by David Woods
“Under a pile of sacks.”
“Oh, my God. I hope they don’t find them for a while.”
“So do I.”
Ben’s face turned white as he was shocked into silence. The police stopped them at the check point and searched the cab, as well as under the lorry before waving them on. Ben shouted across to Brian above the din of the engine, “Where’s the package?”
Brian pointed behind. “In that machine.”
Ben nodded and looked ahead. The lorry lurched about over potholes in the road, and Brian cringed as he thought about Sally being knocked about in her steel prison. When they reached the border in East Berlin, they watched as the car in front was being taken apart by heavily armed police. Both men became frightened, remaining silent when it was their turn. They were ordered out of the cab and into an office where their suitcases were searched, their passports examined and an official stared hard at Brian’s face when he noticed the swelling beneath his eye. “I had a minor accident on a farm,” Brian blurted out. The man just nodded expressionless and returned their documents.
The lorry cab was undergoing a search when they returned and a man was crawling underneath. Brian watched, his heart in his mouth, as someone climbed on to the lorry bed and was staring at the forage harvester. A mirror on the end of a broom handle was handed up, grass that had fallen out lay underneath that the official kicked away. The mirror was shoved under, but after a quick glance he pulled it out and handed it back. Brian felt sweat trickling down his back as the man tapped the side. It sounded solid and he tapped again harder, a lump of grass fell on his foot and he stepped back and jumped down. A discussion with the officials followed and they looked at the two men, who were standing together trying to look normal, and indicated that they should carry on with their journey. Brian had to stop himself running towards the cab, but they just drove forward into no man’s land and past the West German customs post with no difficulty. Both men yelled with relief, but Brian just felt exhausted. He looked at Ben who was grinning from ear to ear. “We must find somewhere quiet as soon as we can.”
“What for?”
“To unload the contents of that machine.”
. “Right.”
They stopped in a rough looking lorry park between two high-sided vehicles. Brian found his spanner and jumped up on to the lorry bed whilst Ben stood watching. “What’s the hurry?”
“You’ll see.” The top was soon off, Brian climbed up and peered into the blackness, reached down and was handed the package, which he laid carefully on the lorry and then climbed up again. Sally’s head suddenly appeared, her eyes blinking as she tried to get accustomed to the brightness.
Ben could not believe his eyes. “Who the hell is this?”
“Sally. She saved my life.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were smuggling her out?”
“Because it would have worried you too much.”
“It surely would have.”
Brian slowly helped Sally out, as she was still trying to get used to the daylight. “Are we really in the West?”
“Of course we are.”
She smiled and kissed Brian as he struggled with her stiff body. “Thank you very much. You’ve save my life.”
Ben helped to ease her down to the lorry, and she hugged them both. “You’re both very brave men.”
“Very frightened men,” replied Brian. Now tell me what’s so bloody important about that package.”
“It’s a very special listening device. To detect a new type of fighter plane engine.”
“All that trouble and risk over a tape recorder?”
“It’s not that simple. You’ll take it back with you, please.”
“Of course, but what will you do?”
“I’ve many friends in West Berlin. I’ll stay here.”
“Have lunch with us first?”
“I’d love to. She removed her stained overalls to reveal faded jeans, and they walked to a nearby restaurant. A large meal was served and Brian was so happy he forgot his tiredness. Sometime later both men said farewell and watched as Sally disappeared into a maze of side streets. Brian’s next priority was to find a telephone box and ring Anna. “I’m back in the West and all is well.”
“That is wonderful. I have been so worried and at one point I dreamed you were in terrible danger.”
“Not any more. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” They chatted for a few more minutes and he rang off. Fatigue finally engulfed his aching body, so they checked into an hotel and Brian slept for the rest of the afternoon.
Two days later Brian arrived back at the Kent farm. Anna smothered him in kisses, and his father delightedly handed back the envelope.
Anna stared at his still swollen eye. “What happened? What have you really been doing? Please tell me.”
When they were alone in the kitchen Brian related the full story and she was stunned into silence for a while. “You should have told me before. You must never keep anything secret again.”
“But you’d have worried so much. Anything might have happened. A miscarriage, for instance.”
She could not be angry with him. “You did it to save me from going to prison, didn’t you.”
He smiled as he gave her the envelope. “This ensures we won’t.” She read the document whilst Brian answered the telephone.
It was Hawkins, who sounded delighted. “Thank you for what you’ve done. I can’t tell you how grateful we are. I’ll pick up the package tomorrow morning.”
“Right, and then I hope we won’t meet again.”
“I don’t blame you. It must have been a terrifying experience.”
Brian handed over the package the next morning and proceeded back home. It was a beautiful sunny day, and a pleasant breeze blew into their faces as he sat on the veranda with Anna, and they looked across at The Weald. He took a deep breath. “It’s wonderful to be free and together again.”
“You bet it is. But I wonder if there is anyone else about to blackmail us? She said in a strange and melancholy voice.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Several months later, during late spring, Anna gave birth to a baby boy, who they decided to call William John. The nursery in the Kent flat soon filled with toys from Belgium and England, and Anna settled down with their son to life on the farm. She still kept a close interest in the progress of the company, which had expanded and become the leading supplier of grass harvesting equipment in Western Europe. Brian became blissfully happy running his own business and living with his family.
The company hired a large stand at the Frankfurt Agricultural show, at which they exhibited a very impressive display of machinery. He visited the show every day, along with salesmen from the Belgium factory. On the last day a group of twelve men walked on to the stand and asked to see Brian. Fortunately one of the delegates was an interpreter and he introduced the group, who were Russian officials, to Brian. “We have come to look at your machines.”
“You’re very welcome to examine them in detail. “I will show you around the stand.”
They all followed Brian while he explained the virtues and benefits of individual machines, after which the group sat in easy chairs in the reception area to talk among themselves and take coffee. Brian just sat back watching, and was approached by the interpreter. “ We are very impressed with your machinery and would like to discuss a business proposal.”
Oh, really, what have you got in mind?”
“We need forage harvesters on our collective farms.”
Brian was beginning to have a bad feeling about the conversation, remembering the last communist farm he visited. “I am sure we can supply you with machines from our Belgium factory.”
“Yes of course. But it is the policy of the U.S.S.R. to be self-sufficient in manufactured equipment.”
“Oh, I see, so what is it you want from me?”<
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Would you consider collaborating with us to set up a manufacturing base in the Soviet Union? We can supply the raw materials and workers. You could supply the manufacturing know-how and expertise.”
Brian looked around at the men, who were all in their late fifties except for one, who was a burly individual with a sullen expression, and Brian judged his age to be about thirty. The others appeared relaxed and seemed to want to ignore the younger man. Brian cleared his throat. “I am interested in your proposal, subject to studying all the details.”
“Of course. We would be pleased to furnish you with all the relevant details in a draft agreement. And perhaps we could visit your factory in Belgium.”
“Yes, but I have to return to England tomorrow. If you would contact me there, I’ll be pleased to make the necessary arrangements, after I’ve had a chance to study your proposal.” Following this they bid farewell after smiles and handshakes all round. Brian watched them leave, and then sat down to think. He had deep misgivings about returning behind the iron curtain, and wondered if the East German police or the Stasi had realised that he was responsible for helping Sally to escape. After a while he dismissed the whole idea.
The show had been a success, and on his return to Kent he did not mention the Russians to his wife. He sat in his office pondering the future of his company and in which direction to expand next. The Soviet Union seemed to be the solution, so he picked up the telephone. “Can I speak to Philip Hawkins, please?” The line went dead, and he was about to put the receiver down. “Hawkins here, how can I help you?”
“Brian Wilkins. Can we discuss a business proposal that’s been offered to me?”
“To expand in an easterly direction, I presume?” Hawkins said dryly.
“That’s right, how did you guess?”
“I don’t make guesses. It has already come to my notice.”
“I see. And do you think I should give it consideration, or turn it down?”
“I can’t see any reason for turning it down. There are no problems left over from your previous business.”
“Good. In that case I’ll study the proposal.” After the conversation ceased Brian began to get excited about the prospect of further expansion.
The next day a file of papers arrived from Moscow, which he spent all day studying. In the evening he chatted with Anna over tea, whilst they took turns cuddling William before Brian tucked him into his cot, and slipped quietly back to Anna. Their conversation then took a more serious note. “Anna, I’ve been approached to start a joint manufacturing venture in Russia.”
“Good God, what for? We’re still expanding in western Europe.”
“But that can’t go on for ever, can it?”
“I suppose not. But do you really want to take the risk of going behind the iron curtain again?”
“That depends on how high the risk is. And the possible rewards. The proposal looks very interesting.”
“But what about last time? You were nearly killed.”
“Ah, that was different. And I’ve been assured by Hawkins there are no problems in that direction.”
“I just hope he’s telling the truth.”
“So do I. There’s a lot of work to do before we actually make a commitment.”
“That’s just as well. I want you to promise me you will be very careful before going ahead with this.”
“I will, don’t worry.” He spent the next few days studying, making various enquiries and thinking hard about the Russian project before driving to Belgium with Anna and William.
Anna’s parents were desperate to see their first grandson, and immediately smothered the bewildered child with affection, and bombarded his ears with lots of new sounds. Brian left the happy family together and went to the factory to explain the new proposal to an enthusiastic Manfred Vulder.
Two days later five Russian officials arrived, and were duly escorted around the premises by Brian and Manfred. They appeared very impressed with all they saw, and afterwards a meeting was convened in Brian’s office, when ideas were exchanged in a light hearted manner. Brian and Manfred were invited to Moscow to view factory sites. After the delegation left, the two men sat and talked. Brian began the conversation. “I wonder why they don’t buy one of our machines and just copy it?”
“I thought that myself. Perhaps it would take too long to set up without our assistance.”
“That may be the reason. But supposing we go ahead, get it all set up and start turning out good quality machines. They could just boot us out without a penny!”
“They could I suppose. But surely they wouldn’t like the bad publicity that would generate. It might stop other companies from helping them.”
“That’s true, but I still feel it’s dodgy.”
“I agree it is. But they will still need us for future development of new and better machinery.”
“I think we should work on a deal that involves us setting up the factory to produce two models of our harvester for a fixed fee, and after that a management charge. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a good idea. Then we wouldn’t get caught if we were booted out.”
“That’s right. But we’ll have to be careful not to end up with a competitor selling identical machines to ours.”
The discussion went on for another hour, and when they had finished, it was agreed they would meet the Russians again to discuss their ideas. This resulted in an invitation to visit Moscow and Anna was not pleased. “Why must you go? I don’t like it.”
“This is different to the last time. There are no funny deals. It’s just a straight forward business trip. Thousands do it every year.”
“But I still don’t like it.”
“I’ll be ok, you’ll see.”
“Has Hawkins got anything to do with this trip?”
“No. I was approached by the Russians.”
“Who is going with you?”
“Manfred.”
“Oh, that’s all right then.” She seemed a little more relaxed about the situation. “Well I suppose it will be safe if you are careful.”
Two weeks later Brian and Manfred flew to Moscow carrying briefcases bulging with figures and drawings of ideal factories. They were met at the airport by the same interpreter together with two of the officials they had previously met. Their welcome was friendly and they were driven in a large black car to a huge hotel in the centre of the city. The car and driver were put at their disposal for the duration of their visit, which was planned to last four days. The two men were shown to their rooms, after ascending in a slow creaking lift, and walking along several long badly lit corridors with faded wallpaper and threadbare carpets. The rooms were, by contrast, well furnished with easy chairs covered in deep red velvet and finished with gold braid and tassels. Double beds were provided and the walls were adorned with pictures of past glorious battles and landscapes. The rooms also had en-suite bathrooms which were well equipped.
Brian felt the bed, deciding it would be comfortable, and they arranged to meet half an hour later. Manfred knocked on time and they descended to the foyer to be greeted by a man of about thirty with fair hair and a broad smile. “Hello, you must be Mr. Wilkins and Mr. Vulder. My name is Andrew Longman from the British Embassy.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Brian and this is Manfred.”
“I have been requested to assist you in any way I can.”
Brian felt grateful to be offered help. “What do you do at the embassy?”
“I’m assigned to the commercial section. And we’re very pleased you’re going ahead with this exciting farm equipment project.”
“Well, there’s more work to do before we can decide to go ahead or not.”
“I see, well if there’s anything I can do like translating, or explaining the Russian way of doing business, I’ll be pleased to help.”
“You’re very kind. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“I’d be delighted.”
“Good, what time is the evening meal served here?”
“Any time from now on.”
“Right, let’s eat straight away.”
They had a long but enjoyable meal with Andrew talking about life in the U.S.S.R., and explaining how the immense bureaucracy works or rather how it does not work. Brian told him what they had in mind and he seemed enthusiastic about their ideas. Then Brian asked “What about the ordinary people? How do you get on with them?”
Very well indeed, they are very friendly, nice people, who love to meet new and interesting foreigners.”
“Oh, why is that?”
“Because they like to hear about life in the West. There’s so much propaganda about the West in the papers, so they like to actually question foreigners themselves.”
“I don’t suppose we’ll have much time for socialising.”
“Why ever not? I’ve already organised a dinner party for you tomorrow night.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks.”
The next day was spent with Russian officials and their interpreter, who were far more interested in showing the two men the sights of Moscow, than doing any business. By afternoon, after a heavy lunch, Brian wondered if they had gone off the whole idea, and when the interpreter’s running commentary paused for a moment Brian asked. “When will we be looking at your factories?”
“Soon, we thought you would like to see our beautiful city first.”
“Of course, it’s very kind of you to show us around.” They smiled broadly and carried on with the tour.
At seven thirty that evening Brian and Manfred waited in the hotel lounge as instructed by Andrew. “A very interesting day.” Manfred remarked. “I wonder who we will meet tonight.”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we’re going to enjoy this evening.”
“Well, I hope the company makes up for the food.”
“Yes not too good, is it?”
“Andrew arrived with a car and they were driven through a maze of streets to a large block of flats. As they pulled up outside he said. “The people you are about to meet are all professionals of one sort or other, and nearly all speak good English, which is another reason why you’re invited. “It’ll give them all an opportunity to practice their language skills.