‘In France? I don’t know. They’ll need the RAF to give air cover to our troops if the Germans try anything, I imagine. Here’s another one.’
‘You don’t think there’s any chance that the Germans’ll give up, now they’ve got what they wanted?’
‘I think Hitler wants a whole lot more.’ Matt fiddled clumsily with the lights. He was only using his good hand, she noticed, keeping the other one out of sight. ‘I hope I’m doing these all right. Guy always used to do them.’
‘They look fine.’
‘Is there any news of Anna?’
‘She wrote to say that she’s been promised that her parents will be able to go to Switzerland very soon. It’s all being arranged, apparently.’
‘That’s wonderful. Poor Anna! It must have been awful for her, waiting and waiting. Will she be coming back here?’
‘She says she’ll try to go to Switzerland if she can. To be with her parents.’
He looked crestfallen. ‘I hoped she’d come back here. What a rotten Christmas! No Father. No Guy. No Anna. No Nereus.’
‘What’s happened to Nereus?’
‘Didn’t you hear, Lizzie? He died last month.’
‘Oh, no …’ Tears came into her eyes. ‘Oh, Matt, I’m sorry. I’ll miss him.’
‘Well, he was pretty old, you know. I expect it was best for him.’
Nothing was the same. Everything was changing so fast and it was frightening. Even Christmas itself was different. There were no candles, no crackers and no charades and Aunt Sheila started crying in the middle of the lunch. On Boxing Day Lizzie and Matt walked down towards the jetty. It was bitterly cold with a sullenly overcast sky. They passed Nereus’s grave, in a quiet corner beneath a tree and marked by a stone with his name on it. ‘I can’t remember a time without him,’ Matt said. ‘I keep expecting him to appear, just like he always used to. It’s weird.’
‘Will you get another dog?’
He shook his head. ‘Mother wants to shut up the house. She says she can’t stand it here on her own. I heard your mother suggesting she came to stay in London with you. I think it’s a good idea. She’s have some company and she wouldn’t be so miserable.’
‘Guy thinks the Germans might bomb London.’
‘When did he say that?’
‘When he called by that time. He thinks we really ought to leave London. We won’t, though. We’ve got our shelter in the coal-hole, so we’d be quite safe.’ They had reached the top of the steps leading down to the river and the jetty. ‘Where’s the Rose?’
‘In the boat-house. Guy and I put her away for the winer – well, for the duration, most probably. I doubt if we’ll get her out till the war’s over.’ They walked down the steps and out onto the jetty, their feet making hollow sounds on the planking. ‘Don’t tell Mother, Lizzie, but I’ve applied to join the army. I don’t suppose they’ll have me, but it’s worth a try.’
She glanced at his face. ‘It means a lot to you, doesn’t it, Matt? That they take you?’
‘Yes, it does. I can’t stand the thought of being left out. I’m fit and strong and I can do most things, but they probably won’t see it that way. Heavens, they turn you down for flat feet, apparently.’ He gave her a quick sideways grin. ‘Not a word to a soul.’
‘Don’t you split on me, then. I’m trying to join the Women’s Air Force but they probably won’t have me either because I’m not actually eighteen yet. Don’t say anything, though. My parents are dead against the idea.’
‘You know I won’t. Why the Air Force?’
‘I thought that might be easier to get into because it’s new. Most girls seem to want to join the WRNS. Or the ATS.’
‘I thought perhaps it might be because of Guy.’ He picked up a stick off the jetty with his good hand and hurled it hard across the water. ‘You never know, you might bump into him.’ The stick had sailed high into the air and landed far out in the river. ‘We’re in the same boat then, aren’t we, Lizzie? Both praying for the chance to do something.’ They watched the stick being carried fast downstream.
Anna leaned her bicycle against the wall beside the courtyard door. She tugged at the bell handle and listened to its jangle inside the house. The sound died away to silence. She pulled it again, harder this time, and the jangling went on longer. Still silence and then, after a while, the rasp of iron bolts being dragged back. The door opened halfway. His bearded face was hidden in shadow.
‘What do you want?’
‘You know very well, monsieur. I want the news of my parents that you promised.’
‘I have no news yet. You should not come here so often. I told you that it would take time. You must have patience.’
‘I’ve been patient for long enough.’ She shoved the door hard, catching him off balance so that he staggered back. ‘I insist on talking with you.’
He shrugged. ‘Since you are already inside, mademoiselle …’ She followed him down the dark passageway and into an even darker inner room, cold as a tomb but richly coloured. Oriental rugs were hung on flaking plaster walls, piled high on the stone flagged floor, draped over furniture. He was a dealer in expensive and rare carpets, an Armenian who had lived in France for many years. A Jew. She faced him.
‘When I first came to see you, monsieur, you gave me your assurance that it would be a matter of weeks before my parents were safe in Switzerland. It has been months and there is still no news.’
He spread his hands, palms up. ‘There was great difficulty in finding your mother and father – I told you. Since they were no longer at the address you gave me, it took much searching before they were found. Much time was wasted.’
They had been traced to an address in a part of Vienna that she had never heard of – a poor quarter, she had been told, where they and other Jews were lying low from the Nazis. It would still be possible to help them, but it would be dangerous and it would cost more money. She had sold the necklace to a jeweller in Lille for far less than its real worth. It was too old-fashioned. Nobody wore such jewellery any longer, certainly not now that France was at war. Nevertheless it had raised enough to meet the sum necessary to pay for her parents’ freedom. Half of it she had handed over to the Armenian in advance; the remainder she had kept back.
‘But since they were found, what progress has been made? How and when are they to leave Vienna? Do they now have the necessary papers to enter Switzerland? What route will they take?’
He raised his hands in mock consternation. ‘Always so many questions, mademoiselle. You ask things that I cannot tell you. I do not know how these things are accomplished. It must all be achieved in the utmost secrecy. Papers must be falsified, contacts made, money change hands … and all with much caution. My contacts are at great risk from the Nazis if it should be discovered that they are helping the Jews.’
‘They are well paid for it,’ she said coldly. ‘And it is not for love of Jews but for love of money.’
‘Unfortunately, they are asking for more. It would be as well to give it to them. Part of the balance …’
‘I told you that I am not giving another sou to them until my parents are in Switzerland. That was the arrangement.’
Another shrug. ‘As you please. But I understood that the safety of your mother and father was of paramount importance to you.’
‘You know very well that it is. Why else would I be here? Who are these people? They are not Jews, like we are. Are they Austrians? German? Swiss?’
‘More questions, mademoiselle! Alas, I am not at liberty to tell you anything. That is the way these things work. It is all a matter of trust.’
‘Trust! How can I trust them when I am told nothing? How can I trust you, monsieur? You have taken my money – a great deal of money – and yet nothing has been achieved. For all I know you are cheating me—’
‘Please, mademoiselle, calm yourself. It serves no purpose to make these unfounded accusations.’
‘I shall go to the police and tell them that you have take
n money under false pretences.’
His eyes glittered. ‘Then you will certainly never see your mother or father again.’
The words hung ominously between them. ‘Very well, I will pay more. Another quarter. The final quarter I keep until they are safe.’
‘I knew that you would see reason, mademoiselle. You are far too clever not to.’
She gave him the money and he followed her down the dark passageway to the courtyard door. ‘I will let you know as soon as I have news, mademoiselle. It will not be long now, I promise.’ The heavy bolts grated home behind her.
She rode the bicycle through streets treacherous with frozen ice and snow to Madame Gilbert’s apartment on the other side of Lille. It was a gloomy warren of lofty rooms full of monstrously ugly furniture and shuttered against daylight and fresh air. And it smelled of the old woman. Anna left the bicycle outside and climbed the stairs to the door. Mademoiselle Gilbert would still be out, teaching at a school in the town, but Madame would certainly be there because she only ever went out in the mornings – and then no more than a few steps as far as the boulangerie or the épicerie or the daily market in the next street. She would hear her foot on the stair and call out in that querulous voice of hers – wanting something fetched or carried or another thing done that she was perfectly capable of doing herself. Sure enough, Anna had scarcely opened the apartment door when the old woman was screeching her name. She opened the door to the salon where a black marble clock, sombre as a headstone, ticked away the hours on the mantelpiece.
‘You have a visitor. An Englishman. I told him to wait in the salle à manger. He has been waiting for you for nearly an hour.’
It was Guy. He was standing there, wearing a thick grey-blue military overcoat over uniform and smoking a cigarette. A peaked cap of the same colour lay on the dining-table.
‘In the name of God, what are you doing here, Guy?’
‘I didn’t expect you to be particularly pleased to see me, Anna, but even so, that’s rather unflattering.’
In fact, she was extremely pleased to see him. He looked so very comfortingly English, familiar and safe. Also, it had to be said, very handsome in his fine uniform. After all the months of miserable worrying and waiting, she felt close to throwing herself into his arms and weeping unashamedly on his chest. ‘I’m sorry – it’s a big surprise. Lizzie wrote to me that you were somewhere in France with the Royal Air Force but she did not know where. She said you are already flying fighter planes.’
‘Well, learning to fly at Oxford rather speeded things up. And they’re rather keen on training as many fighter pilots as possible just now.’
‘But how are you here – in Lille?’
‘Our squadron was sent over to France before Christmas. We’ve been based near Reims. Lizzie’s mother gave me your address when I was in London and I thought I’d nip up on the train and see how you were. Take you out for dinner, if you’d like.’
They went for champagne cocktails in the American Bar of the Café Jeanne and then on to the Huitrière close by where they ate chicken stuffed with truffles, then lemon soufflé and finished with Napoleon brandy. The restaurant was crowded with British and French officers in uniform and smartly dressed French civilians, all laughing and enjoying themselves as though they had never heard of the war. She pointed it out to Guy. ‘How can they be so unconcerned, so nonchalants? It’s incredible.’
‘We’re rather doing the same at the moment, aren’t we? I don’t much see the point of not enjoying life for as long as we can. The fun’s going to stop eventually.’ He leaned over to light her cigarette. ‘Everyone’s very worried about you in England, you know.’
‘Yes … They write all the time, asking when I am coming back. I write letters to them, too. I’m sorry that I worry them.’
‘And when will you go back?’
‘Not until the war is over. I shall go to Switzerland to meet my parents there, if I can.’
‘It’s definitely arranged for them, then?’
‘Not exactly – no. But it will be soon. It’s promised.’
He smoked his cigarette, studying her. ‘And just who are these mysterious people who are supposed to be organizing it all?’
‘I have met only one of them – a man here, in Lille. He doesn’t actually arrange it himself. He has contacts.’
‘Have you already paid him?’
‘Part of the amount.’
‘How much?’
‘That is my affair, Guy. I sold the necklace my grandmother gave me. The one I wore for the Oxford ball.’
‘I remember it well. What a pity.’
‘It’s not a pity to me if it saves my parents.’
‘This man could be swindling you, Anna. Taking your money. Making all these promises but doing absolutely nothing.’
‘He has already helped others known to Mademoiselle Gilbert.’
‘Some time ago, maybe. But things are very different now. We’re at war.’
‘There is no need to remind me of that. Is that why you came to see me, Guy? To criticize me? To give me a long lecture?’
‘No. To try and make you see sense. You’re not safe here. The French could intern you at any moment – they might even take it into their heads that you’re a spy.’
‘The police have interviewed me. Mademoiselle Gilbert has vouched for me. They know that I am a Jewish refugee.’
‘They might change their minds when things get worse. You could get stuck here in France and caught by the Germans if they invade. Do you want that to happen to you?’
‘The French will stop them. They have a big army. And you are here, too – the British. The Germans would be driven back. I am not leaving yet, Guy.’
He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘What are you living on?’
‘I still have money left from my parents and some from the necklace, and I am giving lessons in German. There are business people in Lille who believe that it may be a wise idea to improve their German.’ She smiled. ‘The French are very practical. And Mademoiselle Gilbert is very kind – she does not charge me rent.’
‘It’s absolutely freezing in that place. Don’t they ever light a fire?’
‘Madame Gilbert is too mean.’
‘Is she the appalling old woman who let me in?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’
‘Well, she was unbelievably rude.’
‘She always is. She’s utterly loathsome.’
‘Then why do you stay?’
‘I have already told you why.’
He shook his head despairingly. ‘Look, Anna, I know you don’t think much of me and you’ve never taken a blind bit of notice of anything I’ve ever said, but for God’s sake listen to me this time. You’re in danger. You should go back to that place, pack your bags, get on the first train to Calais and take the first boat to England.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Well, I think you’re being very silly and stubborn. It’s crazy to put yourself in such danger. Do you imagine that your parents would wish it? Haven’t you thought about that?’
‘What about the danger they are in? Have you thought about that? Do you know what they are doing to Jews in Germany and Austria? They are beating them, torturing them, sending them to slave camps, killing them.’
‘All the more reason for you to go back to England, where you’ll be safe.’
She said coldly, ‘That’s a thoughtless thing to say, Guy. Would you desert your parents? Would you run away to save your own skin, if they were in danger and you might be able to help them?’
‘Of course I wouldn’t. But that’s not the point—’
‘It is for me. Exactly the point.’
‘I can see it’s not the slightest use arguing with you.’ He glanced at his watch and stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Look, I’ve got to get the train back … I’ll try and come up again.’
‘There’s no need to trouble yourself.’
‘You mean you’d much sooner I didn’t.’
&nb
sp; ‘Not if you are going to lecture me again.’
He looked at her steadily for a moment. ‘OK, Anna, I promise not to. But for God’s sake be careful.’
When she returned to the apartment Madame Gilbert screeched to her from the salon.
‘What do you want, madame?’
‘Janine has gone out and the clock has stopped. It must be rewound.’
‘Very well.’ She opened the glass, fitted the key and turned it.
‘Who was the Englishman? What was he doing here?’
‘He is someone I knew in England.’
‘Is he your lover?’ The coal eyes watched her pruriently.
‘No.’
‘But he would like to be. I could tell. And you would like him to be, n’est-ce pas?’
She reset the hands, ignoring the remark. The marble clock resumed its dreary ticking away of the minutes, the hours and the days. Soon it would be the end of March. March would become April. The bitter winter would be over; the weather would get warmer and, without a doubt, the Nazis would strike.
Chapter Fourteen
By March, Otto had been promoted to oberleutnant. He knew this was due to strings being pulled rather than to any particular prowess on his own part. The winter had been spent in rigorous training but there had been no chance, as yet, to prove his ability in the field. When one did come, however, he was confident that he would acquit himself well. There had been a rumour of some action in November but bad weather had put a stop to the possibility. In January the Panzers had actually moved into position to launch an attack on the Low Countries. The Führer, it was said, would delay no longer. He had promised the German people Lebensraum – the space to live and grow – and they were to be given it. And then something had happened to force yet another cancellation: vital invasion documents had, apparently, fallen into Belgian hands when a Luftwaffe aircraft had made a forced landing. The attack had been abandoned. Since then the weather had been atrocious but, with the melting of the snow and the coming of spring, the rumours were starting again. The Führer was making up his mind when and where they would make their move. It was going to happen at last, and soon.
The Little Ship Page 22
