‘I’ll pour your tea,’ Claire’s mother called after her, ‘and I’ll put a pan of water on the stove. You’d better have a wash before you go.’
As she turned into the short drive at the front of her house, Mitch’s grandmother pulled up behind her in her car. The old lady wound down the window and beckoned Claire. ‘Don’t leave your car outside the house. Put it in the garage, dear. I’ll park around the corner, so mine’s out of sight,’ she whispered, put her foot on the accelerator and sped off.
Claire did as Esther said. By the time she had unlocked the garage door, put her car inside, taken her case out of the boot and locked the garage, Esther was waiting for her at the front door. ‘What’s going on, Esther?’
‘I’ll tell you when we’re inside. Quickly, unlock the door, dear,’ Esther said. She looked up and down the road. ‘Best if no one knows you’ve come home.’
Claire opened the front door and Esther jostled her into the hall. ‘Is this cloak and dagger stuff really necessary, Esther?’ Claire asked, doing her best not to laugh.
‘Yes, it is!’ Esther said. ‘I’ll tell you why when we’re inside.’ Esther glanced over her shoulder before closing the door. ‘We don’t want Commander Landry and his bully-boys to know you’re back yet, so we’ll go through to the kitchen. If they come knocking, they won’t see us in there.’
Claire took off her coat and kicked off her boots, replacing them with a thick cardigan and her old slippers. ‘How did you know I was back? Are you psychic?’ she asked, following Esther into the kitchen.
‘Nothing as exotic as that, I’m afraid. I called round to see you this morning, on the off chance you’d be here, but you weren’t, so I telephoned the Foxden Hotel and spoke to Bess. She told me you had just left and estimated the time you’d be arriving home,’ Esther said, out of breath.
Claire felt a sudden surge of panic rise from her stomach to her throat. ‘What is it, Esther? Is it Mitch? Have you heard from him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he all right? Where is he?’
‘No. I mean, yes. I have heard from Alain but I don’t know how he is, or where he is. The reason I needed to see you as soon as you got home was because - well it’s two things really, but the first is, I had a visit from Alain’s commanding officer.’ Esther shook her head. She looked flustered.
‘Sit down. I’ll make us a drink.’ Claire pulled out a chair from under the kitchen table and Esther dropped onto it. ‘Now, start at the beginning and tell me what happened.’
‘Commander Landry said he came to see you yesterday, but you weren’t here, so he came to my house,’ Esther said, wringing her hands.
Claire filled the kettle, put it on the stove and took a bottle of milk from her shopping bag. ‘And?’ she said, looking over her shoulder at Esther.
‘And the commander said RCAF intelligence has received information that Alain is in France.’
‘France? Why would he go--?’ Claire stopped speaking mid-sentence. Simone!
‘The commander had received Alain’s medical file. He told me that the doctor who treated Alain in Canada said that under hypnosis, Alain had talked about a woman in the French Resistance who he became ... close to.’ Esther paused, took a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed her nose. She cleared her throat. ‘Apparently, this French woman was in the prison with Alain and--’
‘Go on!’
‘She worked for the Germans. She was a double agent, a plant, according to Alain’s doctor. He said she supplied the Germans with information that she got out of Alain about the Resistance movement. He said Alain told this woman when and how he and the other prisoners were going to escape, and she passed the information on to the Germans. It was because of this woman that Alain was shot in the leg,’ Esther hissed.
‘Simone!’
‘Yes!’ Esther said, clearly shocked. ‘How did you know her name was Simone? Did Alain tell you about her?’
‘No. Not directly.’ Claire’s heart began to pound. She swallowed hard and blinked back her tears. ‘It’s Simone who Mitch - Alain - talks about in his sleep.’ The whistle of the kettle made her heart skip a beat. She jumped up as if she was on auto-pilot and made the tea. ‘How do you know all this?’ she asked, handing Esther a cup. ‘Did the commander tell you?’
‘No! All he said was Captain Mitchell is in France and the Canadian and British Military Police want to question him about a German agent named Simone who they believe he consorted with during the war.’
Claire nodded thoughtfully. ‘You said there were two things you needed to tell me?’
‘Two things? Oh, yes! Just a minute, dear.’ Esther took off her coat, unbuttoned her cardigan and blouse and pulled a brown envelope from between her vest and brassiere. ‘This came - from Alain.’ She handed Claire the envelope. ‘I think it’s a copy of what the professor in Canada sent to Commander Landry. The envelope looks like the one I saw on the commander’s desk yesterday.’ Esther forced a smile. ‘I put it here for safe keeping.’ She tapped the small roll of flesh beneath her bosom. ‘Not even a commander in the Royal Canadian Air Force would dare to have a lady of my age strip-searched. Not in peacetime anyway.’
If the situation hadn’t been so serious Claire would have laughed. She took several pages of thin tissue-like white paper from the envelope and, while she drank her tea, read her husband’s medical notes and a letter that Professor Puel had written to his commanding officer. She shook her head. ‘These notes are transcripts of the private sessions between Mitch and Professor Puel. As his doctor, Puel should not have sent them to anyone. It’s a blatant disregard of doctor-patient confidentiality.
‘I read similar transcripts when I was with the SOE in the war. They were mostly interrogations.’ Claire laid the letter that Professor Puel had written next to Mitch’s medical notes, sat forward in her chair and scrutinised both. ‘Did you read these thoroughly, Esther?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Then you know the two accounts are different. Nowhere does Mitch say that Simone is a double agent feeding the Germans information. Puel has assumed that. He must have known of a double agent called Simone, put two and two together, and decided that Simone the German agent and Simone in the Gestapo prison were the same woman.’ Claire looked at the transcript again. ‘There’s nothing in this document that even hints that Mitch is in cahoots with a German agent who was in the French Resistance; not when he was in the Gestapo prison nor at any other time.’
‘Look!’ Esther said, pointing to the second page of the letter, ‘It says here, Captain Alain Mitchell spent an unnecessary amount of time while in the Gestapo prison with a German spy known as Simone who, in my professional opinion, turned him. He doesn’t say he knows Simone turned him, he only says in his opinion she turned him.’
‘That’s right. We already know from the transcript that Mitch was in the prison with a woman named Simone.’ Claire picked up the transcript. ‘If this is an exact record of what Mitch said in the meetings he had with the professor, it’s more likely that he had an affair with Simone.’ Out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw Esther flinch. ‘He talks about her in a very loving and caring way,’ Claire said, almost to herself.
‘This letter is rubbish. There is nothing in the transcript, which was taken down verbatim, about Simone being a German agent. And nowhere is the phrase turned him recorded.’
‘So how can the professor know this Simone turned him?’
‘He can’t know,’ Claire said. A smile crept across her face.
‘What is it?’
‘That’s why Mitch missed the plane home. He went back to the hospital to copy this. He would have known when he read it, as I did, that it was rubbish.’ Claire flicked her hand at the documents in front of her. ‘He would also know the professor would have to send a copy of his findings to Commander Landry, which is why he posted his copy to you.’
‘My grandson, a spy? It’s laughable. This professor chap might be an eminent doctor, but he
doesn’t know anything about people.’
‘He doesn’t know Mitch that’s for sure.’ Claire looked through the report again, then shook her head. ‘There’s something here I’m not seeing. Something Mitch remembered perhaps.’ Folding the letter, Claire returned it to its envelope and gave it back to Mitch’s grandmother. ‘Keep it safe, Esther, Mitch will need it when he comes back.’
‘I think you should have a good look around, Claire, make sure there’s nothing missing,’ Esther said, returning the envelope to its place of safety between the layers of her underwear. ‘The commander telephoned me and asked me to go to the base. He sent a car for me, so I didn’t have much choice. When I got there, he and another officer gave me a good grilling. His driver brought me home and within half an hour two military officers arrived. They searched my house. They took all sorts of things away with them; Mitch’s notepads and sketch pads. They even took the books he read at university. Some of them, as you know, were written by social and political idealists.’
Claire shook her head. ‘I hope they don’t use his old books to back up what Professor Puel said. All students are idealists and most have strong political views - it goes with being a student. Come on,’ Claire said, getting to her feet, ‘there’s nothing out of place in here, let’s look round the rest of the house while it’s still light.’
It was obvious to Claire as soon as she went into the sitting room that someone had been in there. A thread of cotton hung from her sewing basket and when she pulled on the top of Mitch’s bureau it was locked. The key was always left in the lock, so it didn’t get lost, but Mitch never locked it, there was no need. She checked inside. It was tidier than she remembered but she wouldn’t have a clue as to whether any of her husband’s papers were missing. She closed the lid and followed Esther to the door. Before leaving she turned, looked back into the room, and shivered. She was cold and needed to build a fire. She was worried, too.
Nothing looked as if it had been disturbed in her bedroom. She opened Mitch’s wardrobe. His shirts and jumpers were folded and stacked on the shelves. Too tidy, Claire thought. And his lightweight sports coat and jackets in the hanging section of the wardrobe were lined up too neatly.
‘I’m not sure I’d have noticed anything was amiss if you hadn’t suggested we check, Esther,’ Claire said. ‘I wouldn’t have looked, but now.’ Claire shivered again. ‘Come on, let’s go down, it’s cold up here. I’ll make a fire in the sitting room, while you-- Shush!’ Claire put her arm out to stop Esther from leaving the bedroom. ‘Did you hear that?’ Esther shook her head. ‘It sounded like metal clinking.’
As the women approached the top of the stairs a knock on the front door halted their step. Esther took a sharp and very loud breath. ‘Shush...’ Claire put her forefinger to her lips. Whoever was at the door knocked again. This time louder.
Before they began their descent, Claire heard the jangling sound again. Whoever was outside had keys, and they were about to let themselves into her house. She looked at the older woman, questioningly. ‘Alain?’
Esther shook her head. ‘It’s more likely to be Airforce intelligence,’ she hissed.
Go back to the bedroom and ruffle your hair. I’m going to say you came to see me, didn’t feel well and went up for a lie-down.’ Esther nodded. ‘Come down in a couple of minutes and follow my lead.’
‘Just a minute!’ Claire shouted, running down the stairs. ‘I’m coming!’ She flicked on the hall light and opened the door. ‘Where’s the fire?’ she asked the two uniformed men standing on her doorstep. She looked at the taller of the two officers. ‘My keys, I think,’ she said, snatching them out of his hand. ‘Would you like to explain why you were about to let yourselves into my house with a duplicate set of keys when you thought I wasn’t at home?’ Neither officer spoke. ‘Perhaps you’d rather I telephoned Commander Landry and asked him?’
‘What’s going on, Claire?’ Esther croaked from the top of the stairs.
‘My husband’s grandmother wasn’t feeling well. She went upstairs to have a rest.’ Claire almost burst into laughter when she saw Esther. Her hair looked more like a bird’s nest than it looked ruffled because she’d been lying on it. And to say her clothes looked dishevelled was an understatement. Claire hoped Mitch’s letter hadn’t been dislodged when Esther pulled one side of her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt.
‘Can’t you give this family a bit of peace,’ she said, hanging onto the handrail swaying and yawning. ‘What do you want now?’
Esther was being so dramatic she was on the verge of giving the game away. ‘Come on dear,’ Claire said, helping her down the last couple of stairs then physically turning her in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Light the oven. The room will soon warm up. I’ll be in in a minute to make you a hot drink.’
As Esther toddled off to the kitchen, Claire showed the Canadian Airforce officers into the sitting room. ‘It’s rather cold in here. I’ve been away. But then you know that, don’t you?’ She glared at the tall miserable looking officer. ‘So,’ she sighed, ‘what do you want from me?’
The shorter officer stepped forward and gave her a warm smile. ‘We’d like to know if you’ve had any contact with your husband, Mrs Mitchell?’
Claire straightened and looked him in the eye. She knew the game, good officer-bad officer. When she was with the SOE she had been in worse situations and been grilled by harder and more experienced interrogators. Even so, she must be careful. These men would know Mitch had worked undercover in occupied France during the war. They may not, however, know that she had been an agent too - and she didn’t want them to know. To them, she was only the wife of a suspected traitor. Even so, Claire was not about to let either of them intimidate her. ‘I have not.’
‘He hasn’t telephoned, or written to you?’
‘I’ve just told you. My husband has not contacted me!’ Claire checked herself. ‘I know you have your job to do, but I’m worried about him,’ she said, her eyes moist with tears. ‘I’m sorry.’ She pretended to pull herself together. ‘Mitch has not telephoned me or written to me.’
Thank you, Mrs Mitchell.’ Good Officer turned and motioned for Bad Officer to leave. At the door, Good Officer turned to Claire. ‘Commander Landry would like you to come to the base tomorrow.’
‘What? I spent hours being interrogated when I got back from Canada. Nothing has changed. I don’t know any more now than I knew then, so why does he want to see me again?’
‘I don’t know, Mrs Mitchell. The commander said to tell you he’ll send a car.’
‘All right!’ Claire put up her hands as if she was giving in. ‘Do you know what time?’ she asked, as calmly as she was able.
‘I’m afraid I don’t.’ He saluted and left.
Claire waited until she heard their car drive off, then locked and bolted the door.
CHAPTER TEN
The alarm clock rang at six o’clock. Claire, having hardly slept, had been up for two of hours. She had relegated the clothes she wore at Christmas to the laundry basket and added clean underwear, socks, jumpers and a pair of corduroy slacks to the clothes that remained in her suitcase. She checked that she had the relevant documents in her handbag, dropped it next to her case and sat on the bed.
In the stillness of dawn, she heard the sound of an approaching car. Its engine grew louder, stopped, and idled for a second, before it cut out altogether. She went to the window and drew back the curtain enough to see the street immediately in front of her house. Mitch’s grandmother was getting out of her car. Letting go of the curtain, Claire ran downstairs and opened the front door. ‘Good morning, Esther.’
‘Good morning, dear. Right!’ she said, looking around, ‘what can I do?’
‘Nothing. I’m pretty near ready to go,’ Claire said, returning to the bedroom with Esther hard on her heels. She looked through the drawers, grabbed a couple of pairs of Mitch’s socks and threw them on top of the clothes in her case. ‘New Year is always colder than November a
nd December,’ she said, ‘best to be on the safe side.’ Claire took a woollen scarf that Édith Belland had sent Mitch one year for his birthday. She held it up to her face and breathed in his scent before tying it around her neck. ‘For luck,’ she said.
‘Did you telephone Foxden and speak to Aimée?’ Esther asked, her voice cracking with emotion.
‘Yes, last night. I told her I was going to bring her daddy home.’
‘You didn’t tell her where you were going, did you?’
‘Good Lord, no! The fewer people who know the safer it will be for me, and for Mitch. I asked her if she’d stay at Foxden with her aunt and uncle and, if we’re not back before the school term starts, go to school with Nancy.’
‘And?’
‘And she said yes. She made me promise I’d fetch her as soon as we get back.’ Claire’s throat tightened and she swallowed. ‘I could tell she wasn’t happy about it, and who could blame her? First she was dragged out of school and taken to Canada and now, just when she was looking forward to going back to her old school in Oxford and seeing all her friends, she’s having to get used to the idea of going to a school where she won’t know anyone except her cousin.’ Tears blurred Claire’s vision and she sat on the end of the bed and sobbed.
Esther sat next to her and held her in her arms. ‘Claire, your daughter is intelligent and resilient. She will come to terms with the change and she will cope with it.’
‘She shouldn’t have to come to terms with anything at her age,’ Claire said. ‘Nor should she have to cope. She’s eight years old for goodness sake. It isn’t right.’
‘What’s happening to her father isn’t right either. Whether she understands now or not, she will when she’s older. When you tell her why her father had to go away, and why you had to go after him, I promise you she will understand. Right!’ Esther stood up. ‘It’s time we left,’ she said, ‘I’ll wait for you in the car.’
Claire jumped at the sound of the front door slamming. She looked in the dressing table mirror. She looked a fright. Her face was pale and blotchy and her eyes were red-rimmed. The way she looked now she would attract the wrong kind of attention, and she didn’t want to do that.
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