by Caro Fraser
Eve’s voice broke into his reflections. ‘Hey, wake up. I’m going to polish this lot off, if you don’t look sharpish.’
Dan hooked an oyster from its shell and swallowed it.
‘So,’ she went on, ‘what do you make of it?’
‘I think there are a lot of frightened people out there, prepared to make something out of nothing. The idea that Paul is a traitor is ridiculous.’
‘It certainly seems far-fetched to me, but, well, someone’s got to hand this thing to the authorities.’
Dan reflected for a moment. ‘Look, this could make a lot of trouble for Paul – possibly undeserved trouble. There are plenty of reasons why his name could have finished up on this list. Can I take it? I want to make my own investigations.’
Eve shrugged. ‘If you like.’
‘Thanks.’ Dan folded the paper and slipped it into his inside jacket pocket.
She indicated the oysters. ‘Go on – you have the last one. I’ve had seven.’
After dinner they went dancing at Ciro’s, then spent the night at Eve’s flat in Regent’s Park. The following morning, before she left for work, Eve asked him what he was going to do with Alice’s list.
‘I told you. I want to do some digging.’
‘You can’t leave it too long.’
‘No, I know.’
She kissed him. ‘Will I see you before you go away?’
‘Yes, I’ll call you.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’
5
DAN WENT DOWN to Surrey to visit Sonia that weekend, and spent much of it helping with the construction of an Anderson shelter at the far end of the garden. It was designed to be sunk into a bank of earth and covered with turf when completed. ‘I want it to keep us safe,’ said Sonia, ‘but not to be a complete eyesore. Practicality combined with aesthetics, that’s the idea.’
Dan spent Saturday morning digging the trench for the foundations, and in the afternoon he and Lobb erected the steel arches and worked the corrugated iron sheets into place. Dan was glad of the work; he knew it was important not to slacken off too much after his training. By the evening it was almost complete. At six o’clock Lobb put away his tools and went home for the night. Dan was fastening the last of the clip-bolts into place when Sonia came out, with Avril and Laura, to inspect the shelter.
‘Most impressive,’ said Sonia.
‘I’ll put the soil and turf on top tomorrow,’ said Dan. ‘Though I can’t guarantee it will take in this dry weather. It’ll need plenty of watering.’
Avril and Laura were wandering around the dark, exciting interior, the pekes pattering behind them. ‘It’s like a little house,’ said Avril. ‘Can we put chairs and things in?’
‘We’ll certainly have to have some creature comforts,’ said Sonia. ‘Oh, Avril, don’t sit down on the bare earth.’
‘I’ll put down some duckboards to make more of a floor,’ said Dan.
‘An excellent idea, but one that can wait until tomorrow,’ said Sonia. ‘Time for tea. We’ll have it on the terrace. The grass is too long for us to sit under the chestnut tree, like the old days, I’m afraid. Laura, dear, you’ll have to come out of the little house for now. You can come back tomorrow.’
When tea was over, Sonia told Dan to stay on the terrace and enjoy the evening sunshine. ‘You deserve a rest. I’ll join you for a sherry in a while.’
The others went inside, and Dan lay back in his chair and closed his eyes, listening to the low hum of the insects among the flowers and the bubbling coo of the wood pigeons in the summer trees. All was tranquil, and the evening sky was mercifully free of planes. One could almost believe the war wasn’t happening. It was pleasant to pretend, just for a while.
After a few minutes Dan felt a light tug at his sleeve. He opened his eyes and found four-year-old Laura at his elbow. She was holding a book and regarding him with grave, grey eyes.
‘Read me a story, please.’ It was a gentle, but firm instruction.
Dan pushed himself up in his chair and took the book from her hand. ‘Right-ho. Up you come.’
She clambered on to his knee and settled back against him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He opened the book randomly, and was about to begin the story of Red Riding Hood. ‘No, not that one,’ said Laura. She turned the pages back to the very beginning, to the story of Jack and the beanstalk.
‘This one?’
Laura nodded. When the story was finished, she asked for another. Dan obliged, and threw himself into the parts that called for funny voices, which made Laura laugh so ecstatically that Dan laughed, too. Neither of them was aware of Avril watching them stonily from the nursery window.
*
The next day Dan began the task of building up a two-foot layer of soil and turf on top of the shelter. Sunday was Lobb’s day off, and he worked alone. As he was working, he noticed Avril standing nearby, watching. The ten-year-old had been quite chatty and interested in the project the day before, so he said to her, ‘You’re going to need lights in here if there’s a raid. Once I’ve finished this, we could make some by putting night lights inside flower pots. What d’you reckon? There are a couple of chairs and an old table in the shed, too. We could bring them in here, make it more homely.’
Avril wanted nothing more than to help make flower pot lights and furnish the shelter, but seeing Dan and Laura having such fun with stories the evening before had kindled a sour unhappiness inside her, so that she now had no wish to please Dan or herself. She gazed at him sullenly and shook her head, then turned and walked away.
Funny kid, thought Dan as he resumed his work. No better now than when she was five.
On the way back to the house Avril came across Laura playing with Star on the lawn. She watched her for a moment, thinking, then said, ‘Laura, do you want to see something? Something mysterious?’
The four-year-old looked up. She wasn’t used to hearing Avril talk to her in this friendly, coaxing way. In fact, she wasn’t used to Avril paying her any attention at all. She nodded.
‘Come on, then.’ Avril held out her hand and Laura got to her feet. Avril led her across the lawn to the wood, Star pattering at their heels.
*
When he had laid the last piece of turf, Dan stood back and admired his handiwork. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes till lunch. Just time for a quick stroll and a smoke.
He wandered down to the tennis court. Lobb had kept it mown, so that it wasn’t entirely neglected, but the grass was far from the pristine surface on which he and Meg had played a few years ago. He stood reflectively, summoning back memories of the summerhouse party, then after a minute or two he flung away the end of his cigarette and went back up the path.
As he walked along something caught his ear, and he stopped. The light, muffled sound of a child’s voice, singing, came through the trees. He stepped off the path and through the bushes, following the sound, then stopped dead. There, leaning over the edge of the old well, her fair hair falling over her face, was Laura. The little girl was leaning so far forward that her feet were well off the ground, and with just the slightest further momentum, she could easily topple in. The wooden lid lay on the ground a few feet away.
Dan held his breath and crouched down. He moved forward as stealthily as he could. Laura was still singing softly into the echoing depths of the well. Praying she wouldn’t hear him and move in surprise, he reached out and grasped her by the ankles, and pulled her backwards into his arms. She gasped and struggled and began to cry, and he tried to calm her. Eventually she quietened.
‘What were you doing?’ he asked. He felt shaky with relief.
Laura sniffed back tears. ‘I was singing to the princess in the well. Avril told me about her. She said she’s lonely, and if you sing to her it makes her feel better.’
‘I see.’ They were still sitting together on the ground, Laura in Dan’s lap. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m sure she feels a lot better now. But you mus
tn’t do it again. Wells are dangerous places for little girls. Come on, let’s get you back to the house.’
Laura did not tell Dan how Avril had pulled the big lid off the well, then helped her up the stone sides, till she was balanced on the edge, looking in. Nor did she tell him how Avril had urged her to lean over as far as possible, right, right over so that the princess would hear her. She had been too busy singing to notice Avril run quietly away, Star following. Just as now she was too happy to be sitting aloft on Dan’s shoulders, brushing the summer leaves of the trees with her hands, to care about any of it.
Ten minutes later Dan returned with a hammer and nails and some lengths of wood, and secured the lid so that no child could prise it off. No point in mentioning it to Sonia, he decided. She would just have a nervous fit, and blame Avril. It was hardly Avril’s fault if Laura took literally every nursery story that Avril told her.
*
That evening Dan packed his kitbag, ready to leave.
‘So,’ asked Sonia, ‘what now? Back to Scarborough when your leave ends?’
‘No, that’s finished with.’ He wished he could tell her about SOE, but knew he couldn’t. ‘I might be posted overseas.’
‘Well, look after yourself. I hope you’ll come to Woodbourne when you have leave. Your room will always be waiting.’
‘Thank you. I don’t think you know what it means to me to be able to come here. It’s like an oasis of sanity.’
‘I don’t know about sanity. There are times, particularly where the pigs are involved, when I think myself quite mad. Now, before I forget, I need you to return something to my sister Helen in London, if you don’t mind. She came to stay a few weeks ago, and she left some jewellery. Apparently she can’t get by without it. I’ll just fetch it.’
Sonia returned moments later with a small leather jewellery roll and gave it to Dan. ‘You know where she lives?’
‘Yes, Cheyne Walk. I called there once, when Meg was still living there.’
‘Ah.’ She paused. ‘Do you see much of Paul and Meg?’
‘No, I haven’t seen either of them for a long time.’
‘Meg is quite changed. I mean, she was always a capable girl, but she has positively grown up in the past year or two. It’s partly being a mother, I think, and partly the war.’
‘War changes everyone.’ Dan glanced at his watch. ‘My train’s in half an hour. I’d best be off.’
*
Dan set off across the fields to the station. He was still mulling over the business of the list that Eve had given him, as he had been all weekend. There had to be some way to find out more. Should he try to get in touch with Alice to see if she could find out more details of why Paul’s name was on the list? No, that would put her at too much risk. She might cover her activities by wearing a Nazi party badge and spouting pro-Nazi nonsense at every opportunity, but the mere fact that she was British meant she must already be under surveillance. As he reached the road the idea of asking Bill Shirer came to him. With his knowledge of the tight-knit world of espionage and the German high command, perhaps Paul’s name had come to his ears. It was a long shot, but it was worth trying. He would write and see what he could find out. Anything to get rid of this troublesome uncertainty.
As he turned off the path on to the road Dan heard a low droning sound and looked up to see a flight of German bombers, over twenty he reckoned, flying in formation, no more than two thousand feet above. He flattened himself against the hedgerow as the planes passed directly overhead, flying in a westerly direction through the summer sky. He watched as they gradually became specks in the distance, then carried on towards the station.
*
Meg was in the nursery with Max when she heard the drone of planes. She hurried to the window. Paul came in at that moment and joined her.
‘Should we take cover?’ asked Meg.
Paul watched the bombers rumble over the fields beyond Alderworth Hall. From further off came the stuttering sound of machine guns, and the German formation began to break up under attack from Hurricanes and Spitfires.
‘No, I suspect they’re heading for Bracknell. There’s a squadron of Blenheims stationed there.’
The RAF planes had engaged some of the bombers, but the crump of bombs exploding further afield indicated that the first wave of the formation had got through. In the distance came the crack of anti-aircraft guns. Max ran to his mother and Meg picked him up, and the three of them stood gazing in horrified fascination as the aerial battle unfolded in the skies above James Kentleigh’s estate. In the space of the next ten minutes they saw three German bombers and two British planes shot from the skies. The remnants of the German formation disappeared westwards, pursued by British planes. A Spitfire angled in on the last remaining Heinkel and let loose a burst of machine gun fire, and the German bomber lurched, then began to come down slowly at a low slant. Its three occupants parachuted to escape seconds before the plane hit the ground in a sheet of flame and black smoke on Creechurch Hill, just beyond the village, and the Spitfire barrelled low in a victory roll before disappearing westwards to join what was left of the battle.
The sound of the planes receded. They waited in silence for some minutes, then Meg set Max down on the floor.
‘How horrible to see two of our own planes shot down. To think that could have been Roddy.’ Paul said nothing. It was the first time Roddy’s name had been mentioned by either of them in months. Meg went to the chest of drawers and took out some clean pyjamas for Max. ‘Diana rang me while you were in London last week. She’s terribly low. She isn’t allowed to know where Roddy’s been stationed, so she can’t join him. She’s just sitting in the flat in London, all on her own.’
‘She should get a job with one of the forces, take her mind off things.’
‘What, like you?’ The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. There had been a good deal of tension in the house lately, and she and Paul were having frequent arguments. Meg could put it down to nothing in particular, though she blamed Paul rather than herself. He was preoccupied and irascible much of the time, and she couldn’t help feeling that life at Hazelhurst was easier when he wasn’t there.
‘You know I’m engaged in government work,’ said Paul quietly. ‘Otherwise I’d be in uniform like a shot.’
Meg knew it wasn’t fair, but the fact that she was allowed to know nothing of Paul’s work made her feel it was all a bit of a sham. She told herself over and over that whatever he was doing must be valuable, just as valuable as the contribution of every active serviceman – more so, perhaps. But she was aware that the fact that he spent his time in the comfort of his country home, or up in London, reflected poorly on him in the eyes of the servants and other local people, whose husbands and sons had gone off to fight. James Kentleigh was now a prisoner of war, and Meg couldn’t bear the idea that Anna should think that Paul wasn’t doing his bit. She knew she should say nothing to anyone about Paul’s work, but when Anna had observed that it was odd that Paul was still at home, Meg could not help telling her that Paul was working for the government. Anna had merely replied, ‘Oh, a desk job,’ and Meg had felt the slight keenly.
She slammed the drawer shut impatiently. ‘I think I’ll go up to London. I could do with getting away, and I can see my mother and Diana. Lotte will be able to look after Max for a couple of days. And of course, you’re here most of the time.’ She hated herself for uttering these unpleasant barbs, but somehow she couldn’t help herself.
Paul left the room in silence. Meg stared at the pyjamas folded in her hands, sighed, and then called to Lotte to give Max his bath.
*
Meg went up to town the following week, and dropped in on Diana at the Kensington flat.
‘Nice to see at least one member of my family,’ said Diana. ‘I’ve hardly seen anything of Paul this last year. Come and have some coffee – one of life’s few remaining pleasures that mercifully hasn’t been rationed. I get the most heavenly beans from a lit
tle man in Soho.’
‘So,’ she continued over coffee, ‘tell me what my brother is up to. I should have thought he’d be in the RAF by now.’
‘The fact is, he’s working for the government,’ said Meg. ‘All terribly hush-hush. No one’s allowed to know a thing about what he’s doing. It’s rather strange to have him about the place so much when every other man of his age is in uniform. Dixon – you know, our groom and gardener – couldn’t wait to get his call-up papers. But it seems he has an enlarged heart, whatever that is, and the army won’t take him. I’m grateful he’s staying on with us, but the whole thing has made him wretched. I can tell by the way he looks at Paul that he doesn’t understand why Paul hasn’t joined up. It doesn’t seem to bother Paul, though, what other people think.’
‘He was always able to rise above other people’s opinions,’ sighed Diana. ‘It’s a kind of arrogance, but it’s part of his make-up.’ She stirred her coffee, then said, ‘I was thinking of taking a job. I met Constance Davenport a few weeks ago – you know she’s a doctor at the Royal Free now? I was being feeble, fretting about Roddy, and she said the best thing for me would be to get a job. She suggested I train as a nurse, which quite appeals.’