Harpers Heroes

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘No and they won’t,’ Maggie said but laughed because the teasing look in his eyes was infectious. ‘I am a very lowly nursing assistant and shall never rise to such dizzying heights.’

  ‘Then they should be ashamed of themselves,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen you at work and no one could be more devoted to the patients than you are, Nurse Gibbs.’

  ‘Oh, I should have to pass lots of exams to become a sister,’ Maggie replied with a little shrug. ‘I think I’d rather return to Harpers after the war. I volunteered because I knew we should be needed, but I loved being at Harpers with my friends and I’ll go back when this is over.’

  ‘And I’m sure they miss you.’ His eyes seemed to caress her, giving Maggie a nice warm comfortable feeling. ‘Your first six months must be up soon, I think?’

  ‘Yes, it is, next month,’ Maggie replied with a frown. ‘I’ve told Sister Mayhew that I want to stay out here, continue with my work. She says she will talk to Matron, but she thinks I should go home for a couple of weeks’ holiday, so perhaps I might.’

  ‘I’m sure all your friends will be pleased to see you.’

  ‘Mrs Harper has been so good to me,’ Maggie told him with a little smile. ‘She sent me a huge parcel of lovely knitwear so that I could give lots away to the nurses out here and they were all so pleased. Some of them had never had anything as nice and they couldn’t believe they were free.’

  ‘Sally Harper is a lovely woman,’ Mick agreed, ‘but I’m sure you have lots of friends at home.’

  ‘Yes, I have Beth and Rachel and Becky Stockbridge, and there’s Marion Kaye. Marion sends me things too and writes me lovely letters, so do Beth and Rachel sometimes. Becky doesn’t earn very much yet and I told her not to send anything, because I really don’t need it. I’m very lucky…’ Maggie looked thoughtful. ‘Sally Harper and Beth and Rachel became my family after my parents died – I suppose Harpers is like family too. I liked most of the staff, particularly Mr Marco and Fred Burrows.’

  ‘Yes, I can see why you would; they are both decent chaps,’ Mick agreed. ‘So, you’ll be returning to them when this is over then.’ He nodded as if the idea pleased him.

  ‘If it is ever over…’ Maggie sighed. ‘Do you think we’re winning, Captain?’

  ‘Not winning exactly, but at the moment we’re holding our own and that’s pretty good given the power of the German Army,’ Mick said. ‘It will take time, but we’ll get there.’ He hesitated, then, ‘Would you allow me to call you Maggie – or am I asking too much?’

  ‘Off duty that would be nice,’ Maggie said. ‘I know you’re a special friend of Sally Harper’s so I feel as if I know you – so that is fine, if you wish.’

  ‘Yes, I should like to be your friend too,’ Mick replied, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘If you are ever in any trouble here, Maggie, you have only to ask for me and I’ll find a way to help you.’

  ‘I’m not in any trouble…’ Maggie sighed deeply, ‘but my friend is. She is going to need help soon. She won’t admit it or think about it.’ Maggie shook her head. ‘It isn’t my secret and she hasn’t given me permission to say, but I might ask for your help…’

  ‘Anything,’ Mick said and smiled. ‘I think you’re a lovely person, Maggie Gibbs, always thinking of others, and I should be delighted to help your friend when she needs it.’

  ‘Thank you, that relieves my mind a little,’ Maggie confided. ‘She may have to leave the service soon and she says she won’t be sent back to England. I think the French family we know might take her in, but if they can’t keep her after the birth…’

  ‘I can give her money or whatever she needs,’ Mick assured her, his gaze steady and steadfast, making her feel she could trust him. It was almost as if she’d known him for years and she felt safe and comfortable with him. ‘Just tell me what you need, Maggie, and I’ll do all I can.’

  Maggie thanked him and glanced at the little watch pinned to her uniform. ‘I have to go back to my hut and sleep. I’m on duty in four hours…’

  ‘Then I shan’t delay you.’ Mick rose, but Maggie touched his arm and he looked back at her as she too stood up. ‘Something I can do for you?’

  ‘I was wondering if you would be at the grape harvest celebration this Saturday? Marie’s family have gathered their grapes in and are about to start the winemaking, so she is holding a party.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps – I could change duty with a friend.’ Mick’s face lit up. ‘Will you be there?’

  ‘I’m going with my friend, Sadie, but there will be dancing.’ She looked at him shyly. ‘We might dance if you liked…’

  ‘Then I shall definitely be there,’ he said and once again she felt the caress of his eyes. ‘Go and get some sleep, Maggie. I shall see you on Saturday.’

  Maggie returned to the hut she shared and discovered Sadie just changing her uniform. Sadie looked pale and tired, shadows beneath her eyes.

  ‘You shouldn’t worry too much about the future,’ Maggie said and caught her friend’s hand. ‘We’ll work something out, love. I’ll help you all I can.’

  ‘I’m not worried,’ Sadie replied. ‘I’m going to stay in this village until the child is born and then I’ll give it to the family or the nuns. I want to be a nurse, Maggie – and I’m going to retrain from the start. I’ll use a false name if I have to…’

  Maggie was shocked, though she tried to hide it. How could her friend give away the child of the man she loved? ‘Are you sure that’s what you want, Sadie?’

  ‘What would you do in my situation?’ Sadie asked a little truculently. ‘I want to go on with my nursing, Maggie – there’s nothing else for me back home.’

  ‘But your baby… If I’d had Tim’s baby, I would’ve kept it,’ Maggie said firmly. ‘Sometimes I wish I’d slept with him and fallen for his child – at least I would have that to love… a little part of him…’

  ‘If Pierre had lived, I would have married him, but he’s dead – so what are my alternatives?’ Sadie said defensively. Maggie was silent as she thought about it. Sadie continued, ‘I could try to pass it off on some other man, but the thought of another man touching me makes me sick – or I can keep it and pretend to be a widow – though the only jobs I’ll find will be scrubbing or factory work. I don’t want that, Maggie. Nursing was my way to a better life. I was a fool to let Pierre talk me into doing it… but I loved him…’ Her voice broke on a sob and the tears slipped down her cheeks. ‘I loved him so much and he offered me a wonderful life here on his farm. I’ve lived in the slums of London all my life, Maggie, and I won’t go back to that.’ She looked up at Maggie. ‘Don’t judge me, please. I don’t want to give the baby away – but I can’t face the alternative.’

  ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t have to,’ Maggie offered but knew that Sadie had faced reality. Without an income, she would have to work and with a child the only jobs she would be offered were menial. Employers wouldn’t be interested in a widow with a small child. Sadie sounded hard but she must be hurting so much inside; to lose the man she loved was grief enough, but then to be forced to give up his baby for the sake of convention was even worse, but it was the way things were. Either she had to pretend to be a widow and struggle on alone or give the baby away; it was a stark choice and Maggie wished there was an alternative but couldn’t think of any she could offer. ‘I can help with money until you can find work again,’ she went on, because it was all she could do. ‘And anything else I can—’

  ‘I know you want to help, Maggie. It does help just having you to talk to,’ Sadie said. ‘Thank you for being my friend – and for understanding. Some women would be shocked at what I’d done…’

  ‘I half envy you,’ Maggie said honestly. ‘If I had Tim’s baby I would want to keep it.’

  ‘I have to go…’ Sadie left abruptly and Maggie knew her words had inadvertently hurt her friend. Sadie didn’t really want to abandon Pierre’s baby but she didn’t know what else to do…

  36

  ‘I know you’
ll be running the risk of being recognised,’ the officer said to Marco that September morning. ‘Now that your last mission to help with the logistics of supplying the field hospitals is finished, we have decided it is time for you to return to France. We don’t normally send our operatives back to the same area, but at least you’ll be twenty miles or so away from where you were based. However, we do realise that it is likely you may be recognised by someone who saw you working at the nightclub. However, we need to re-establish contact with our agents out there and we’re not sure who to trust now that Pierre and a couple of others were killed. We’ve had messages, but they could be from the enemy trying to trick us – if some of those captured talked, they may have all our codes.’

  Marco had spent a few weeks working with Ben Harper and others, his local knowledge of various locations helping them to plan what had been a successful initiative to resupply vital medicines to those hospitals most in need.

  ‘Yes, I perfectly understand, Colonel Rush,’ Marco replied and flicked ash from the cigarette he’d been offered, along with the glass of aged Scottish whisky. ‘What exactly do you need from me, sir?’

  ‘We need you to contact those you knew who are still alive and ask them who has taken Pierre’s place as their leader and then make contact. You will supply them with new codes we know haven’t been penetrated and can trust. We want to organise some guerrilla raids with them – supply them with guns, explosives, that kind of thing. Pierre was planning several assassinations of high-ranking enemy officers before he was killed. Not everyone is up for that, Marco, but it could make a big difference to the outcome of the war.’

  Marco frowned, wondering at the use of dirty tactics, but supposed all was fair in love and war. Something about the mission he was being given this time seemed to smell bad to him, but there was no thought in his mind that he might refuse it.

  ‘Who are my contacts when I land?’ Marco asked.

  ‘Things have changed since you got out and our links to the French partisans have become tenuous. You’re going to have to use your own judgement. We don’t know who may have been turned and is playing as a double agent now. However, those that are loyal to the cause will trust you – that’s why we need to send you back.’

  Marco nodded. What the colonel was saying was true. He knew several people in the underground network and they would trust him; he also knew Pierre’s cousin Marie, because she had come into town once and Pierre had introduced them. He was the obvious choice if the network was to be re-established – and yet Pierre had died to get him to safety. It made the loss of a friend’s life seem worthless. However, Marco had no choice but to obey orders. ‘Of course, sir. When do you want me to leave?’

  ‘We’ll get you there tomorrow night. They will be celebrating the wine harvest and your arrival will blend in nicely. You are Marcel Robards and a second cousin of Marie Robards come to help in the winemaking.’

  Marco nodded. Marcel was close enough to his own name to make it easy for him to respond to and he would not be in the immediate area of his prior posting, but he would more than likely have to visit Pont le-Neuve to speak to some of the operatives he’d known. That would be when the danger of being recognised as Marco the nightclub singer would be at its zenith, but Marie might have visitors who could also recognise him and he would need to be on his guard.

  ‘Take the same precautions as before – nothing personal with you, no British clothes, cigarettes. We should be able to fix you up with some French ones.’

  ‘I’ve got used to them anyway,’ Marco said with a wry twist of his lips. ‘No matches, lighters or watches. I know the drill, sir, and I still have what I brought back with me.’

  ‘You’ll need different clothes this time. You’re a farm manager not a nightclub singer.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Marco agreed and got up as the officer rose. ‘Anything else, sir?’

  ‘No – just good luck.’ Colonel Rush extended his hand. ‘Sorry to have to send you back, Marco, but we need that group of French guerrilla fighters to continue with their resistance to the German occupation of border villages. They can get to places our chaps can’t, harass the enemy…’

  ‘Yes, sir. I perfectly understand.’

  Marco frowned as he took his leave. Pierre had been part of a group resisting the Germans in whatever way they could manage, but he knew that his escape would have brought reprisals. There might be some locals who resented that and would betray him for food or money, even though the majority hated the enemy. This idea of assassinating German officers was a dangerous one. Pierre had never spoken of it to him, but perhaps he would not trust even a British spy with that information – and yet Marco was reluctant to pass that part of the message on. If such assassinations took place, reprisals would be taken against innocent men and women and that left a bad taste in the mouth.

  Marco wrinkled his brow in thought. He would do what had been asked of him but he wouldn’t suggest anything unless the new leader of the French resistance was eager for the mission – though he knew the names of men that were more accessible and would most certainly help throw the enemy into confusion.

  The crossing was uneventful and Marco was met by the same group that had taken him in earlier that year. They looked surprised to see him return, because it wasn’t usual to send the same man back, but said very little, simply nodding as Marco told them his new name and his destination.

  This time they travelled in a shabby farm truck and went by the back roads, bumping over dried ruts in the hard-baked summer earth. It had been a good harvest and his guide talked of the winemaking to come now that the grapes were gathered.

  ‘I’m looking forward to experiencing it,’ Marco said and saw them look at each other and laugh.

  ‘It is hard work treading the grapes,’ his guide told him. ‘If you’ve never done it, your legs will ache before you’re half finished.’

  Marco nodded and smiled. He didn’t mind they were making fun of him; they were a friendly, uncomplicated bunch and he thought he would quite enjoy working with them if he had the chance. At least they knew what they were working for – to keep the enemy out of their country and protect their homes and their families.

  Marco was here because he was loyal to the country, he called home, but he had no real home, he realised, and no family. Sometimes that made him feel empty inside and filled him with regret. He would like to know there was someone waiting for him. Of course, he had friends – Ben Harper, his wife and everyone at Harpers, but apart from that no one special. It seemed that everyone he cared for died or was killed…

  Shutting out the sharp pang of grief as he remembered Julien, Marco concentrated on taking stock of his surroundings. He might need to know what the surrounding countryside looked like in the dark.

  Marie greeted Marco with a kiss on each cheek and then another on the mouth for good luck. ‘You are welcome to stay with us, Marcel,’ she told him. ‘I was so pleased when my aunt told me you were coming to stay. It is many years since we met and you were but a boy…’

  She had greeted him at the bus station where his guide had dropped him off with the small haversack he was carrying in full view of any passers-by. It would appear to an onlooker that he’d arrived by bus, coming to stay with his cousin Marie.

  ‘It is good of you to have me, cousin,’ Marco replied.

  ‘You come to learn how we make our wine, and it is my pleasure to show you,’ Marie said as she led him to the horse and cart she’d arrived on. ‘First we have a celebration this evening to thank God for the good harvest he gave us – and then we begin the hard work on Monday.’

  ‘I understand it is hard work,’ Marco said and smiled at her as he climbed up beside her.

  She offered him the reins, but he shook his head and she laughed as if she thought it a good joke. Marco had never driven a horse and cart, though he had ridden a horse in Hyde Park. He thought he would have to learn and took note of the way Marie handled the reins and the instructions she g
ave to the horse.

  ‘It is hard on the legs,’ she told him as they approached the farmhouse and yard, ‘but you are young and you can learn – and driving the horse, too. I shall teach you.’

  ‘I’ve ridden but not driven a cart…’ he apologised.

  ‘No matter, we can show you everything.’ Marie smiled at him. ‘You are a brave man, Marcel. Pierre told me he admired you…’

  ‘He was the brave one, Marie. I owe my life to him and the others who suffered because of me – and I’m truly sorry for what happened.’

  ‘What you did may save many lives,’ Marie said and shrugged. ‘Pierre knew what he risked – and this is France. It was his country.’

  ‘Yes, I know how he felt,’ Marco said. ‘I don’t want any of you to risk your lives for me – if my cover is blown, you must give me up as an imposter. Pretend you knew nothing…’

  ‘Pouff.’ Marie snapped her fingers. ‘It would be the same.’ She drew a finger across her throat. ‘I would kill as many as I could first.’

  Marco laughed. He rather thought he was going to enjoy this assignment far more than the last one.

  ‘You look lovely,’ Sadie said as they finished dressing that Saturday afternoon. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you wear that dress before?’

  ‘I haven’t…’ Maggie’s smile faded for a moment. ‘It’s the one I wore for a friend’s wedding – the night Tim proposed to me. I was saving it until he got leave and then I couldn’t face wearing it after he died…’

  ‘You’re feeling a little better, aren’t you?’ Sadie asked, looking at her curiously.

  ‘Yes. It still hurts to think of him, but it is getting easier to remember the good things,’ Maggie said. ‘I know I’ll always miss him and wish he hadn’t died, but life has to go on and we’ve seen so much…’

  ‘Too much,’ Sadie agreed and hugged her. ‘Let’s forget it tonight and have a good time.’