Later, as Allenby, shaved and changed into his best reefer, entered the HQ building, he saw Second Officer Balfour looking at a notice board.
She turned instantly and Allenby thought of Frazer when he had told him his secret. He had beaten her and Keith to it. He could barely stop himself from chuckling despite the news of another mission. It sounded a straightforward one this time. And the team would be together again.
She said, “Good to see you.” But she looked suddenly uncertain.
Allenby had the strange feeling she had been waiting just for him.
She said, “Joanna has got a draft chit.” She watched his dismay. “Only to Plymouth, but I know how she feels. I wanted to tell you myself. She’s upset. She told me about your news. It will stay a secret as long as you want it to. I’m so happy for you.”
Allenby barely heard her. Plymouth. They would be separated just when he had hopes of seeing her more often. Thoughts raced through his mind like wildfire. She might meet someone else; Plymouth was a big naval base, not like this place. Then it hit him, and in his mind’s eye he saw the Plymouth admiral speaking with Jo’s father at the party. He should have seen her change of mood then. They went to school together. So he must have fixed it to keep his daughter away from him.
He asked wretchedly, “Couldn’t you do something to stop it?”
She touched his arm. “I tried. It was useless. Joanna is very experienced in her job. It’s her sort of skill they need at Plymouth.” She did not sound as if she believed it herself.
She said, “Be gentle with her. She loves you very much.”
Allenby nodded. “Thanks.” He hurried towards the office but she called after him, “She’s in the signals room.”
For a moment their eyes met. It was a spare room for storing boxfiles of signals and only rarely used.
They stood pressed together for a long moment without a word being said. Allenby stroked her hair and made everyy second count.
She said in a small voice, “You’ve heard.”
“Yes. Just now.” He pushed the door shut with his foot. “Try not to worry about it. We’ll be together again soon.” He spoke with a brightness he could not find in his heart. “I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
She looked up, her eyes red as if she had been crying. “It’s not fair. I need to be here. In case you-“
Allenby touched her face. “In case I need you, is that it? I shall always do that.”
They walked together to the window and stared out towards the river. It was harder to see now that the trees were covered with leaves.
It all flashed through Allenby’s thoughts. Their walks in the rain and the driving wind. The first sunny days when they had looked for a quiet place to talk, to touch, to thrill at each new discovery.
Now it was to end. It could be months before they met again. And when the Second Front was mounted he might be killed.
Allenby held her more tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”
She leaned back in his arms, her eyes suddenly very bright.
“You never will. If you’re thinking what I believe you are, then stop it. There’s been no one else. I want nobody else. I love you.” She put her arms round his neck and spoke in a fierce whisper. “I know about the next mission. It should not take long, my dear. Then She lowered her face and he could feel her tremble. “And then I want to go away with you. I want you to love me, do you understand?” Her voice was muffled and he could only guess what it had cost her to say it. “Anyway, every way you want. Then nobody can ever take it away from us, or separate us again.”
Then she did look up at him, her face flushed, but her gaze quite steady.
He said, “We will, my darling Jo. We will.”
She stood back and straightened her tie. “And then, if you like, we can announce our engagement.”
Outside by the same notice board Lynn Balfour heard their voices, merged in laughter and tears. She was deeply moved. Because of the happiness she too had discovered, and which she could still so easily lose.
They stood round a table and stared down at the chart. It was in the center of the room with a light directed straight down onto it. Outside the shuttered windows it was light. The days were drawing out, the nights warmer.
Goudie said, “As you may know, there are rescue floats moored along the Dutch and Belgian coasts.” He gestured to a glossy photograph which showed something that looked like a conning tower. Goudie explained, “When pilots ditch in the sea they can make for these rafts. There’s shelter inside but not much else. They’re visited after any big air raid by rescue launches, just to see if they’ve got one in the net, theirs or ours. A touch of unusual humanity, although the cost of training new air crews plays a large part, I suspect.”
Frazer leaned on the table. Trust Goudie to spoil it. He seemed unable to stop himself.
“Our man will be dumped near one of these floats.” His eyes settled on the sub-lieutenant. “Your German may come in handy.”
Frazer glanced at Allenby. He was not even listening. Miles away.
Frazer asked, “Why not send someone else?”
“Orders from on high. Just pick him up and leave. Don’t touch any other airmen, if there are any. It might wreck the whole rescue agreement.”
Frazer looked at his pad. They would leave at dawn.
Refuel at Felixstowe and pick up an escort from the base there. By then they would know if it was on or not.
Goudie said, “If you tangle with the enemy, E-Boats and the like, get the hell out, right?”
Frazer smiled. “No heroics, you said.”
Goudie eyed him coldly. “You have to be back within the week. Have to.”
Allenby had joined Balfour to look at the chart; they did not even notice. But Frazer felt a sudden chill up his spine like ice. When he met Goudie’s eyes again he knew he had not been mistaken. The invasion was on. Within the week.
“Christ Almighty,” he said softly.
Goudie’s face softened. “Oh, He’ll know all right.”
Frazer looked at the others. “Get your gear and return to the boat. If any of the libertymen are adrift tell me first before you blow the whistle.”
He walked with Allenby to the door. “You OK, Dick?”
Allenby sighed. “She’ll be gone when we get back.”
“I know. I’m damned sorry, for both of you.”
Balfour said, “I’d better drop in on my sister.”
Goudie said, “Obey the last order. Get aboard.” He ignored the young sub’s crestfallen look and waited for the door to shut. Then he said, “She’ll be browned off enough without both of you dropping in.” He glanced at the clock. “Off you go. I’ll bring your sealed orders myself before you cast off.”
Frazer crossed to the Operations Room where the usual clatter of teleprinters and typewriters greeted him with noisy abandon. The Leading Wren’s desk was empty, the typewriter covered.
Frazer grimaced. No wonder Lynn had been terrified of another attachment, a new love.
She was in her office, a telephone jammed under her chin as she searched through some papers. She saw him and made a kiss with her lips.
Then she said, “Here it is, sir. Number thirty-one. All right, sir?” She slammed down the phone and said, “Silly old sod. Too lazy to look it up.” Then she got quickly to her feet and almost ran to him.
“I’m not going to be silly, Keith.” She searched his face. “But do take care. For me, this time. For us.”
Frazer held her very gently. Feeling her supple body through her shirt, remembering each discovery, the way they gave freely to each other as if they had been meant always.
He said, “I’ll be back, my darling, never fear.”
She looked deep into his eyes. “You’ve guessed, haven’t you?”
“Well, it had to come soon.” He held her more tightly against him. “The Boss would never forgive me if we missed the big one.”
She touched his mouth with her fingers li
ke that first time. “I do love you, you know.” Somewhere a bell rang and she said urgently, “Kiss me!”
When they forced themselves apart she said, “Go now. I’ll be thinking of you. Always.”
It was over and Frazer found himself outside the door, his back against it as several pairs of eyes looked up from the busy machines.
One girl said, “Good luck, sir.”
“Thanks.” He blundered out into the hallway. This feeling was something he had never known before. It was as unnerving as it was exciting. No wonder Dick had changed.
He picked up his cap and walked to his quarters to change into seagoing gear. Once he looked back, but in his heart he knew she would not follow, nor would she try to see him before he sailed.
Outwardly she would be as normal. She knew that if she gave way now she would be beaten.
A door opened and Prothero came out into the corridor folding a tiny pair of old steel-rimmed glasses. “Look after the boat, Frazer. “
Frazer nodded. He had never seen the great man in spectacles.
Prothero added vaguely, “You as well, of course.”
Frazer walked on, his mind returning to Lynn. She had not even asked him to take care of her young brother although it must have been on her mind. She was too professional for that, and knew that he had enough to cope with.
Frazer joined Allenby in the crowded chartroom forward of and just below the bridge. It was even more cramped now that it had been partitioned off to make room for the new radar set. On deck there was little to show of their new strength, just a little jampot perched on top of a tripod abaft their mast. Goudie had remarked suspiciously, “Hope it works better than it looks.”
As in the Med, the first part of the operation had gone like clockwork. They had entered Felixstowe at dusk, refuelled, and had been visited by an intelligence officer from the admiral’s staff. It was all a question of timing, he had said. The German forces had the coast completely hemmed in. Nothing could pass without proper authority. A Dutch tugmaster was to drop the luckless agent at sea near the prescribed float while on passage from Flushing to Kiel where he was to pick up a tow of barges. All coastal traffic was vital - to the Germans, especially as the Allied air forces bombed the roads and railways with regular persistence. If the tugmaster was caught he would pay dearly before he was permitted to die.
Frazer often wondered how many of these brave men and women were scattered across the occupied countries, risking death, trying to follow instructions on their makeshift radios while they waited and prayed for the invasion.
It had to work. There could be no retreat, no second try. It was all or nothing.
Frazer found it helped him in a strange way when he was being sent on one of these missions. If he was captured he would with luck be treated as a prisoner-of-war. If he was killed it was a small sacrifice when compared with the war’s vast appetite.
These agents and members of the Resistance had no such cover. Nobody would have blamed them if they had sat passively by and done nothing, like the majority of their countrymen. It was for them a savage, personal war. After it was all over the vengeance amd recrimination would be equally terrible for some.
Allenby shut his ears to the squeak and whirr of the radar and peered at the chart.
“One hour from now, I’d say.”
Frazer nodded. “That’s what I think.” He tapped the chart. “Our escort will be about there.”
There were three big motor gunboats and an MTB for extra strength, keeping station to port.
They peered around the black curtain and stared at the blinking radar which reflected on the intent features of Crocker, their only operator. He was a failed candidate for a commission, but seemed to have settled down with his new toy.
Allenby gestured to the screen as the scanner found the four escorts. Little, shimmering blobs but easy to distinguish. Before this the majority of MGBs had been blind, with human resources which had changed little in a hundred years.
Outside on the open bridge they waited for their eyesight to recover from the piercing chartlight.
Frazer looked at his luminous watch. “Go round the boat, will you, Dick? Check all the gun positions and make sure we’re properly darkened.” He saw Allenby’s teeth, very white in the darkness. He knew the boat was ready, had been since they had closed up at action stations. But you had to check. Also it helped to be kept busy.
Frazer walked to the gratings at the forepart of the bridge and tasted the spray on his lips. Like her tears.
Ives was at the wheel, a lookout nearby.
On either side of the bridge was a new machine-gun mounting. Twin Vickers .303 with drums instead of trailing belts of ammunition which could become a snare for the unwary at night.
Able Seaman Weeks was at one of them. He smiled. Jack of all trades. At the rear of the bridge Balfour’s shadow detached itself from the flag locker and swayed towards him.
They were moving slowly on wing engines only, but the motion was bearable, especially for the North Sea.
Balfour said in a hushed voice, “Pretty calm night, sir.”
As the deck rolled to starboard the two officers brushed against each other.
Balfour grinned. “Oops, sorry, sir.”
Frazer watched the sea ahead of the bows. It was an odd feeling. Like being with part of her. An extension. He shook himself angrily. Don’t start getting morbid.
He said, “The RAF are supposed to be dropping some anti-radar foil over the coast tonight. It will mess ours up too, but it should help in the long run.”
New inventions on every hand, he thought. If only they had had them at the beginning. The terrible harvest in the Atlantic would have been halved if not prevented altogether.
No moon. Just a few bright stars, very pale and fragile.
Frazer could see their stumpy mast spiralling gently across them, the ensign whipping out from the gaff.
He heard Ives humming gently to himself. He had meant to ask him if his relationship with Sullivan had improved or worsened since his promotion to the petty officers’ mess. Once at the shore HQ Frazer had called at Ives’s quarters to tell him about the new crew members. Ives had not been expecting his visit and had been shaving at the time. He had been stripped to the waist, and Frazer had understood why nobody ever picked a fight with him. Around his neck, on the same cord as his identity disc, there had been another, made of metal.
Ives had seen his glance and had said defensively, “Well, who knows, sir? I might meet her again when this lot’s over.” He must have taken the German-girl’s identity disc while he had been caring for her. It was becoming a strange war, Frazer thought.
Now, Ives was just another shadow, legs braced, eyes on the shaded compass as he held the boat on course.
Down below Shiner Wright and his two stokers would be crawling about their greasy world with one eye on the rev counter. The new telegraphist, “Blondie” Page, a deceptively innocent-looking youth, would be listening in case of a recall or cancellation. Did he ever think about the one he had replaced and how he had died? And up forrard Leading Seaman Sullivan, Bert to his pals, was at his two-pounder, a key man when the guns began to bark.
Allenby returned. “Everything’s fine, sir.” In front of the others he insisted on the “sir” no matter what Frazer said about it.
“Stand by.” Frazer raised his night glasses and heard the caution whispered around the boat. He examined his feelings. There was nothing. Just a kind of numbness. Like cramp.
Ives leaned forward on the spokes, his eyes glinting faintly in the compass light.
As usual he was composing another of his imaginary letters. It was quite mad of course, and he would never tell anyone about it. But he often thought about the frightened girl called Christiane. It was stupid, nothing could ever come of it, but still
He tried again. My dear Christiane, Tonight we are steering towards the coast of Holland. I have never been there. I never went anywhere until I joined up. Perhaps aft
er the war
The crash of an explosion seemed to lift the hull and a blinding flash laid bare the sea and one of the escorts far away on the port beam.
Frazer, shouted, “Full ahead all engines!” He leapt for the other side, his eyes seared by the flash. His ears heard the startled roar as the escorts threw themselves into full speed, but his mind was still dazed by the sudden explosion. Then he saw the other vessel. She looked like an old trawler, with a tall funnel and outdated bridge. But Goudie had warned him about these craft. The Germans had dozens of them, and had fitted them with a few heavy guns and made them almost invulnerable with layers of plastic armor which was said to be as tough as concrete. They cruised or just floated motionless up and down the coast waiting for a marauding MTB or gunboat. They were too shallow-draught for a torpedo and could take a lot of punishment.
They must have thought the MGB was alone, but as the star shell exploded almost overhead they had seen the escorts. A gun shot out a long orange tongue and again a deafening bang seemed right alongside. But the MGB was gathering speed, cutting the tired water into great banks of white foam as she tore diagonally past the armed trawler.
Tracer lifted overhead, and Frazer saw it slash the water into curtains of spray. But the trawler was turning to bring another gun into play and had already shifted target to the escorts. Frazer saw the shells burst dangerously close to the leader, the haphazard necklace of tracer dazzling green as it ripped across the sea in reply.
“Hard a-port!”
Frazer felt the hull roll over, the sea bursting over the bows like a group of angry specters. More, more. Shots crashed past or shrieked close astern as the escorts came in to the attack. Frazer tried to level his night glasses, but it was hopeless in the fierce motion. He pointed across the screen. “There! Red four-five!”
Balfour, his face alive in the glow of tracer, shouted, “I see it!”
The lookout called, “W/T reports they’re transmitting, sir!”
Frazer kept his eyes fixed on the rescue float. It was an odd-shaped raft with the tower in its center. It was garishly painted with white and orange stripes which made it all the more unreal as the crash and rattle of cannon fire ripped the night apart.
The Volunteers Page 24