Resistance

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘James! You look a treat.’

  ‘So do you.’ She was framed in the doorway of what he realized at a glance was a suite, wearing a dress and looking as if she had just left a Buckingham Palace garden party.

  ‘Do we kiss?’ she asked. ‘Or is that improper now you’re my boss?’

  He closed the door. ‘I’m not your boss yet.’

  ‘Oh, shit. Your people won’t have me?’

  ‘We have to talk about it.’

  ‘Well, that’s something, I guess. But say, if you’re not yet the boss...’ She put her arms round his neck and kissed him, very slowly and deeply. ‘I’ve wanted to do that since the moment we met.’ She peered at his expression. ‘I guess English girls don’t do things like that.’

  ‘I didn’t know American girls did, either. And...well...’

  ‘You’re in love with Madeleine, and you have the hots for Liane. She told me you’d had a session. She’s quite fond of you, too. Drink?’ James was speechless, which she took as a yes. ‘I’m afraid it’s only champagne. There doesn’t seem to be anything else worthwhile to drink in this goddamned country. No one knows how to make a proper martini: they don’t put any gin in it.’ She sat beside him on the sofa. ‘So what’s the deal?’

  ‘I’ve spoken with my boss. He thinks it might be possible to use you. But there are certain things you have to understand, and certain rules you have to obey.’

  ‘I’ve never been too good on rules.’

  ‘No rules, no way.’

  ‘So tell me about it.’

  ‘Rule number one: get rid of any ideas about killing Hitler, or anyone else.’

  ‘Isn’t that what it’s all about?’

  ‘Winning the war is what it’s all about. Once we’ve done that, we can sort out the details.’

  ‘So what do I do?’

  ‘We can use you as a courier.’

  ‘You have got to be joking. That’s going to win the war?’

  ‘Yes. We have certain agents within Nazi-occupied territory. These people are gathering information which is essential for our future victory. Their problem is how, safely, to get that information back to us. You are able to go in and out as you please. Your job will be to meet these people, collect what they have, and bring it back to us.’

  ‘Big deal.’

  ‘It may turn out to be a much bigger deal than you can possibly imagine. You want to remember that from the Nazi point of view you will be a spy, and that could turn out very badly for you if you were to be indiscreet enough to be caught.’

  ‘So I’m discreet. How do I know these guys?’

  ‘They’ll know you. You, and they, will be given a password.’

  ‘Real cloak and dagger stuff. When do I go?’

  ‘Not for a few weeks. If you’re going to work for us, you have to be trained. You’ll spend the next four weeks at one of our training establishments.’

  ‘Does that mean no booze? Four weeks? Shit!’

  ‘You don’t have to sign on.’

  ‘Oh... okay. Suppose I go along with this. What am I doing in Europe, anyway?’

  ‘Your job. Reporting for your paper.’

  ‘Do they know about this?’

  ‘Not yet. But your cover story has got to be impeccable. You will write to your editor today and tell him that you think there are some good stories to be had over here and you intend to have them.’

  ‘What happens if he says no dice and tells me to come home?’

  ‘We’ll find you another newspaper. Maybe a Swedish one.’

  She considered. ‘You know, there’s a hell of a lot more to this than meets the eye.’

  ‘That’s why we’d like you to consider very carefully before coming in.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. There’s just one more thing. If I’m going back to France, can I look up the de Gruchys? They’d find it kind of odd if they discovered I was in the country and hadn’t given them a shout.’

  ‘By all means look them up. But - ’

  ‘Not a word about what I’m really at. Okay. I’m on board. When do I go to this training camp or whatever?’

  ‘Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at dawn.’

  ‘Dawn? That’s a bit much.’

  ‘You’re in the army now. Oh, by the way, you realize you’ll have to take oaths of allegiance and secrecy.’

  ‘Allegiance? Mom’ll throw a fit. She doesn’t go all that much for Limeys.’

  ‘She’ll be proud of you at the end.’

  ‘Yeah, well... You staying for lunch? Sounds as if it’ll be my last bang-up meal for a while.’

  ‘Sorry. I must be on my way.’

  ‘You mean officers don’t lunch with the GIs. How about sleeping with them?’ He gazed at her and she pushed hair from her eyes. ‘You can’t blame me for being anxious,’ she pointed out. ‘You’ve managed to scare the pants off me with all that talk about how serious this is, so you may as well take advantage of the situation. I’m a better lay than Liane, too. She’s too bossy.’

  Suddenly she looked quite forlorn. He squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Dawn.’

  *

  He had lunch at his club and changed into his civilian suit before returning to his rooms. ‘First, agent files,’ he told Rachel.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ She sat, notebook and pencil poised, and copied down what he had to say without comment until he was finished. Then she said, ‘Forgive me, sir. But is this lady a friend of yours?’

  ‘So is Pierre de Gruchy.’

  ‘Do they know what they’re risking?’

  ‘De Gruchy does, certainly. Jonsson... well, I’ve told her sufficient times. She suffers from an immortality complex.’

  ‘And how do you feel about using your friends in such a business? Or shouldn’t I ask that?’

  ‘You shouldn’t ask that. But if it’s any comfort to you, 1 was given the job of monitoring them just because they’re friends of mine. Now get those typed up and the files opened, then lock them away.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He wished he could be sure of the intonation in her voice.

  *

  ‘Do you know the last time I was up at this hour?’ Joanna asked as she got into the back of the car beside James. The military chauffeur was squeezing her rather large suitcase into the boot. ‘What is this little thing, anyway?’

  ‘It is known as a Wolseley. As for your first question, I shudder to think. All set?’ The car was already moving away from the hotel forecourt to swing on to Park Lane.

  ‘I’m scared stiff, if you must know. I would have called you to say forget it, but I didn’t have a number.’

  ‘You can still say forget it. But this is the last time.’

  ‘Oh, what the hell. Just tell me what they’re going to do to me.’

  ‘The idea is to turn you into an ice-cold, emotionless, efficient, and utterly ruthless British agent.’

  ‘Do I want to be all of those things? Or any of them?’

  ‘Do you want to survive to dance on Hitler’s grave? Or at least this fellow Biedermann’s?’

  She brooded for a few minutes as they left Westminster behind. ‘Just promise me there won’t be any funny business.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

  ‘Well, like cutting off my hair.’

  ‘Good God, no. Your hair, your looks, are amongst your principal assets.’

  ‘You mean you actually think I’m good-looking?’

  ‘I have eyes.’

  ‘But you don’t like me.’

  ‘Personal feelings have nothing to do with appreciation of beauty. But I do like you. We got off to a bad start. Now you belong to me.’

  ‘Say, I like the sound of that.’

  ‘When you have been accepted,’ he hastily added as she began to slide across the seat towards him. ‘And what I mean is, when you have been accepted, I become responsible for you, at all times. We’re going to be spending quite a lot of money making you into what we want. S
o we want you to survive, and make it all worthwhile.’

  ‘You should have been a schoolmaster,’ she remarked, sliding back across the seat, folding her arms, and appearing to go to sleep.

  *

  Joanna woke up when they swung through the gates of a large country house. ‘Looks like a school.’

  ‘Many a true word is spoken in jest,’ he agreed.

  ‘I hope you’re kidding.’

  The car stopped and the chauffeur opened the door for her. James walked at her side up the wide steps while the driver followed with her suitcase. The front doors had been opened for them by a trim young woman, hair in the required bun, wearing khaki with the three stars of a captain on her shoulder straps, and carrying a clipboard to which was attached a sheet of paper covered in notes. ‘Major Barron,’ James explained.

  ‘Oh, yes. The commandant is expecting you. And this is...?’ She looked at her paper.

  ‘Joanna Jonsson,’ Joanna said.

  ‘Jonsson, yes. Will you follow me, please.’ The hall was wide and high-ceilinged, with a flight of stairs rising beside the right-hand wall, but their guide led them past the stairs to a door, on which she knocked before opening it. ‘Major Barron, ma’am.’

  She stood back to allow them to enter. The woman behind the desk rose and came round it to greet him. She was short and a trifle plump, but like her aide wore uniform, in her case with the crown and crossed swords of a colonel. Her face was pleasant enough, and she smiled at them, but her eyes remained detached. ‘Major.’ She shook hands. Then she turned to Joanna. ‘And you are an American, I believe.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  The commandant took in the quality and cut of the dress, the expensive shoes. ‘It is heart-warming to have our overseas cousins rallying to our aid,’ she remarked. ‘I am informed, Major, that this is a rush job.’

  ‘We are a little pushed for time, ma’am.’

  ‘What were you thinking of?’

  ‘Well... four weeks?’

  ‘That is a rush job. We have a lot to do. As I am sure do you.’

  ‘Ah... yes, of course. I’ll say goodbye, Jonsson. We’ll meet again in four weeks. I hope.’ He saluted, and followed the waiting captain out of the room.

  Joanna stared after him, for the first time in her life utterly speechless. Her brain seemed to have solidified just as her knees were threatening to turn to water. She had been abandoned, in this... establishment. ‘We’re not actually going to eat you,’ the commandant said, returning behind her desk and sitting down. Joanna cast a hopeful glance at the other chairs in the room, but she was not invited to sit. ‘But to fulfil the major’s requirements we are going to have to work you pretty hard. This we shall do, to the best of our ability, but you should know that we are a recent and still small establishment. This time last year, that a place like this might ever be necessary had not crossed anyone’s mind. This means that we are still feeling our way, and that we have limited resources. That in turn means that we will require the utmost cooperation from you. Everyone here is a volunteer. There is no coercion. But there must be discipline and a desire to work, and succeed. Do you understand that?’

  ‘Makes sense.’

  ‘You will address me as “ma’am”, and confine your comments to “yes” and “no”, unless required to say more.’

  Joanna gulped. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Good. Now, I am not going to pry into your background, and whatever it is, I do not wish you to divulge it to any of your fellow students. You are about to engage in a highly secret occupation. Keeping your own secrets may mean the difference between life and death. So, your ability to do that starts now, and will be assessed as part of your course. Nor will you ask any questions of any of your comrades. No one is permitted to inquire into the background, or current status, of any other student. Breaking this rule can lead to instant dismissal.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Very good. Now, whatever your background is’ — again she eyed the expensive clothes — ‘I wish you to understand that every student here is regarded as equal. Any attempt to project superiority, whether by birth or wealth, will not only make you very unpopular with your fellows, but will be noted in your record. I don’t know what you have brought with you, but I suggest that you leave it locked away for the duration of your stay. You will be provided with all the necessary clothes, and it goes without saying that we do not use either jewellery or make-up. Are there any questions?’

  Yes, Joanna thought: how the hell do I get out of here? But she had volunteered, she really wanted to hit back at the bastards who had murdered Aubrey and raped her, and she was damned if she was going to be defeated by any bunch of Limey bastards. So she said, ‘No, ma’am.’

  ‘Very good. Captain Lennox will show you to your quarters and give you your schedule.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Do I salute you?’

  ‘In our army, Jonsson, no one salutes unless one is wearing uniform and a hat. You may close the door.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Joanna stopped outside, closed the door, and faced Captain Lennox, who smiled at her. ‘Her bark is worse than her bite, providing you don’t step out of line.’ Joanna looked at her suitcase, which had been placed in the hall by the chauffeur. ‘I’m afraid you will have to lift that yourself,’ Lennox said. ‘Up those stairs.’

  Joanna began the ascent. ‘The boss said something about a schedule.’

  ‘You will have one. But it’s easy to remember. You rise at five.’

  ‘Say again?’

  ‘Five, Jonsson. That will be followed by a ten-mile run. Then showers and breakfast.’

  ‘Don’t tell me: the showers are cold.’

  ‘Of course. This is not a hotel. Then three classes: politics, cyphers and survival. Then PT. Then lunch. After lunch, weapons training, followed by psychological assessments and unarmed combat. Then French.’

  ‘I already speak French.’

  ‘Then you’ll find it easy. Then there is an hour’s social gathering. Then supper. Then bed. Lights out, ten o’clock.’

  ‘So that we can be up again at five.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Holy fucking shit!’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Sounds real fun. Ma’am.’

  *

  James returned to his club, changed into civilian clothes, and took a bus to within a quarter of a mile of his lodgings, then walked the rest of the way. He felt a remarkable sense of guilt as he wondered just what he had sent Joanna to. She had volunteered, of course, and if he was still not sure of either her commitment or her self-control, he had to believe that the training school would either dissolve those doubts or return her as unusable material. Besides, he reminded himself, he didn’t even like the woman. He didn’t like her flamboyant lifestyle, her confidence, her sexual projection, her wealth... Or were those all aspects of jealousy? Well, he could put her out of his mind for a month.

  It was the thought of what had happened to Liane that was really upsetting him, as much by Joanna’s careless comment that she had not been a virgin as by the event itself. Of course he knew she had not been a virgin when she had come to his bed on the night before the wedding, but that had been acceptable and even reassuring. The idea that she might somehow in the future devote herself to him had only developed on that crazy drive that had turned out so disastrously. Now the thought of her being savagely mistreated by several men made his blood boil. And there was nothing he could do about it, save involve her brother in yet more danger, which could well involve her as well. And Madeleine? But Madeleine had to be forgotten, on all of those counts. ‘There’s a visitor upstairs,’ Mrs Hotchkin informed him. ‘He had the password.’

  ‘Is Miss Cartwright in?’

  ‘Oh, yes. She’s up there with him. What do you think of all them raids? Think Jerry’s on his way?’

  ‘Not if he sticks to bombing Wales.’ James went up the stairs.

  ‘James.’ Pierre e
mbraced him.

  ‘You’re early.’

  ‘My training is complete and I am ready to go.’

  ‘Excellent. I gather you have met my assistant?’

  Rachel stood on the other side of the room. ‘He had the password, sir.’

  ‘Of course. He’s the gentleman in your file. Sit down, Pierre. Rachel, perhaps you could make some tea.’

  ‘Right away, sir.’ She bustled off.

  Pierre sat before the desk. ‘Charming girl. So what happens now?’

  ‘You have a passage on a ship for Lisbon, leaving Southampton on Friday night. Once there, you will find your way into France.’ He opened the filing cabinet, took out various papers. ‘Here is a list of people who will assist you on the way. This must be memorized and destroyed.’

  Pierre nodded. ‘What do I tell my family when I get to Paulliac?’

  ‘They’re your family. But you want to remember that everything you tell them about what you are doing may be dangerous for them. The important thing is for your father to appoint you to his Paris office. I don’t know how much you will have to tell him to secure that position. For the rest, I recommend that you stick to your cover story that after the disintegration of the French army you went into hiding, got into Vichy, and have finally come home. You know, I suppose, that Bordeaux, the entire Gironde area, is in the Nazi-occupied zone?’

  Pierre nodded, and regarded Rachel as she placed cups of tea in front of them, and then seated herself at the typing desk. ‘I will handle it. And after I get to Paris?’

  ‘Behave normally, do your job, sell wine to German officers, and if possible drink it with them, watch, listen and record. From time to time you may be contacted by other agents; accept them and their information, as long as they use our password.’

  ‘I understand. How do I get this information back to you?’

  ‘You have the radio equipment?’ Pierre nodded. ‘And you know how to set it up?’

  ‘I have just been trained to do that.’