Winston's Spy

Home > Other > Winston's Spy > Page 16
Winston's Spy Page 16

by Robert Webber


  ‘Mr Churchill is a military man and benefits from thinking militarily, unlike many of the other bloody fools that are not so blessed. That, gentleman, aids us, because he understands the considerable advantage and value of good intelligence; consequently, he will rely on us much, but many other bloody fools will seek to disparage our worth.

  ‘We can make a difference if the bloody fools allow us – and the difference that we shall make will save lives and shorten this conflict. Although, make no mistake, our foe is formidable, and he, too, has many bloody fools; what we have to do is to ensure that our bloody fools are better than his bloody fools!

  ‘Alex, your assignment is particularly important, for understanding how the Finns approach this conflict will allow us to plan our resources better, and gain a better understanding of the peripheries in this war. You are fortunate that your role is genuinely intelligence gathering and reporting, but the accuracy of that intelligence will be crucial. I do not doubt that you will serve this country well in your role, but let me assure you that your task is no less dangerous than if you were to be involved in sabotage and disruption. Make no mistake that the enemy will not treat you differently to any other agent that they catch, if they catch you, so you must guard against those who seek our cause harm, and trust nobody to be your friend.

  ‘Simon, here, probably knows you best of all, and, consequently, he will be your liaison. You will channel all intelligence that you gather through him, and should you experience difficulties it will be his decision what action is taken. That may prove a formidable task, as difficult decisions are commonplace, but you are fortunate in having a liaison who knows you well and understands your capabilities – many are not so lucky. Equally, working in the field can be incredibly lonely and isolated, so part of Simon’s role will be pastoral; he is there to advise and encourage as well as being a conduit for your information, so I am sure that you will appreciate the grave responsibility that we are placing on his shoulders.

  ‘Incidentally, we are moving out of the War Office because Colonel Swann is worried about this place leaking information, so he has found us accommodation in Victoria Street, not far from the Secret Intelligence Service’s base at Broadway Buildings. It’s not as grand as Whitehall, but if you enjoyed young Simon’s choice of eatery, I am sure that you will fit in well!’

  Alex was unimpressed by the jingoistic rhetoric of the meeting thus far, though he was pleased that he would be working with his old school friend.

  It was clear that Commander Jeffers was coming to the end of his address, and he concluded with the suggestion, ‘Tomorrow evening, perhaps you and your fiancée would care to join me for dinner at my club? The Army and Navy; you know it?’

  Alex nodded.

  ‘We shall have to use the stranger’s dining room as they do not allow women in the member’s enclosure, even Wrens and ATS [Auxiliary Territorial Service] officers!’

  It was just as Simon had predicted, but Alex feigned surprise and consented, subject to Teddy’s agreement. Commander Jeffers nodded in acknowledgement, and Alex and Simon left the room.

  ‘Did you know about being my liaison?’ Alex asked Simon when they were out of earshot.

  ‘Actually,’ Simon replied, ‘it was my idea. Colonel Swann thought it too risky to have one friend looking after another and wanted you allocated to the existing chap in Sweden. I suggested that it might be better to have somebody who understood you as your liaison, rather than the local man who may not appreciate your particular qualities. So, we are to be an experiment and, depending on our success, it could result in similar arrangements being put in place.’

  He paused briefly. ‘Plus, it buys me a promotion; embassy personnel are never more junior than a full lieutenant. So, you can start practising calling me “sir”!’ he teased.

  ‘Never!’ responded Alex jokingly, ‘But congratulations on your second stripe! Are you coming to this thing tomorrow night?’

  ‘I have not had an invitation, but that is usual in these circumstances,’ explained Simon, ‘He wants to charm Teddy and, at the same time, satisfy himself that she is the “right stuff” for one of his chaps. Just tell Teddy to relax, but remember that you both are under scrutiny!’

  Alex rose to leave, and had made it to the door before Simon had an afterthought. ‘Oh, by the way, we are all getting tin hats and gas marks, so draw yours from the quartermaster in the basement, and remember that it is a court-martial offence for an officer to be caught out in uniform without his “battle bowler” and “gas bag”!’

  Alex smiled at these slang terms.

  *

  Not having been allocated a car and driver to take him home, Alex waited in Trafalgar Square for a bus to Kensington High Road, which he took before cutting down the Earls Court Road and turning into Pembroke Road to return to Teddy. He bought a huge bouquet and a box of chocolates from shops on the Earls Court Road, and when he entered Cavendish Court, he was surprised to see the concierge on duty.

  ‘Miss Palmer, 4B,’ he announced.

  ‘And who might you be, sir?’ enquired the doorman, with just the right level of scepticism.

  ‘Lieutenant Carlton; I am expected,’ assured Alex.

  ‘That’s as may be, sir,’ continued the doorman, ‘but nobody has informed me.’ He picked up a telephone, checked a list and dialled a number. ‘Miss Palmer? I have a Lieutenant Carlton for you.’

  There was metallic squawking from the telephone.

  ‘You will have to come down and sign an authorisation, miss.’

  Again came the squawking.

  ‘Very good, miss.’ The porter replaced the handset on its cradle. ‘She will not keep you a minute, sir,’ assured the concierge, ‘Navy, are you, sir?’

  Alex nodded.

  ‘I was in the merchant navy in the last lot. Served throughout, sir, and survived two sinkings.’ He wore his survival like a badge of office. ‘I’m too old now; nobody wants a mariner who is too old, sir, even though I would sign up tomorrow if they would have me. Grand days, they were.’

  Alex deliberated whether he would look back on the war that they were entering and consider them to be “grand days”, and he suspected not.

  The lift arrived, and Teddy emerged. ‘Hello Harry, this is Mr Carlton, my fiancé; please admit him if he calls again.’

  Harry replied, ‘Very good, miss; would you sign this authorisation, please?’ Harry filled out a form and passed it to Teddy to sign, which she did impatiently. ‘Thank you, miss. Mr Carlton is now on my list, and there should be no need to trouble you again.’ He smiled at Alex and saluted, so Alex touched the peak of his cap in acknowledgement.

  Thus admitted officially, Alex and Teddy made their way to the lift and got into it. When the lift was making its way to the fourth floor, Teddy commented that the apartment block was becoming like a prison. Alex’s attempt to console her, with the suggestion that it was likely to get worse before it got better, did not work.

  Suddenly, Teddy laughed and finally noticed the bouquet, and the box of chocolates, she innocently enquired, ‘Are those for me?’

  ‘No,’ he teased, ‘I bought the flowers for your mother and the chocolates in an attempt to sweeten your father’s distaste for me!’

  ‘It would take the entire year’s production from Fry’s to sweeten my father!’ Teddy commented, ‘So I shall eat them and wash them down with a bottle of gin, in the hope that it will take the taste of him from my mouth!’

  On entering Teddy’s flat, they went to the sitting room, and Teddy mixed them both a Martini. It was not one of Alex’s favourite drinks, but, in the company of Teddy, any drink would taste as sweet as honey.

  ‘Did you hear the Prime Minister on the wireless?’ asked Alex.

  Teddy nodded.

  ‘Awful, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, awful,’ agreed Teddy snuggling up against Alex. ‘What happ
ened with you?’ she enquired.

  ‘Much talk and little action, as usual,’ Alex responded in a blasé manner, ‘How do you feel about being at war?’

  ‘I do not know what to feel,’ speculated Teddy, ‘I have not known many Germans; I met a few girls in Switzerland, but they kept themselves to themselves, and nobody truly knew them. I think the only other German who I know is old Mr Kravitz, who once taught me the violin; he was a nice, old cove, but he was ancient then, so must be decrepit now. So, I do not know how to feel. What about you?’

  ‘Likewise,’ Alex replied, ‘I would like to think that people in Germany are wondering about the future, as we are, but I am not convinced that they are. I want to think that it will all be over quickly, but everybody thought the last war would be over by the first Christmas, and it took four long years. My concern is for you, my darling, and your safety. London is certain to be targeted by Germany, and – whether it is by invasion, bombing, gas attacks or whatever – I want you to be safe.’

  Teddy snuggled into him even more, and Alex reached down and kissed her gently on the nose.

  ‘Incidentally,’ he continued, ‘my boss wants to meet you, and he’s offered us dinner tomorrow night at his club. What do you think?’

  ‘Is he nice?’ Teddy asked.

  ‘I doubt that I would describe him as “nice”, but he’s all right, and he is keen to meet you,’ Alex pressed.

  ‘Yes, I think I should like to meet him also,’ Teddy decided.

  ‘Just be careful what you say and how you say it,’ Alex cautioned, ‘this may be a test.’

  ‘Well, thank you,’ Teddy chided, ‘now I shall certainly enjoy the evening, knowing that your boss is secretly interrogating me.’ She gave Alex a playful dig in the ribs, which exaggerated the pain he was feeling.

  ‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed with a faux pained expression on his face. Teddy kissed him better.

  That evening, they listened to the wireless and ate a simple meal of sausages and mashed potato that Teddy cooked for them. Alex told her of his lunchtime culinary experience with Simon Potts, and she pulled a repellent face at the prospect of eating eels. She revealed that her brother Timothy had telephoned to ask whether she had listened to the Prime Minister’s speech on the wireless, and to reproach her for upsetting their father. Teddy told Alex that she had told her brother to, ‘Mind your own bloody business,’ and they had parted with a degree of bad blood between them.

  They went to bed early, and, in the manner of two young people who had just discovered their love for each other, enjoyed each other’s company until Alex kissed her tenderly and fell asleep.

  Teddy, however, could not sleep, and she lay awake in the dim light of the bedroom, looking adoringly at her husband-to-be and praying silently that no harm would come to him. Eventually, she turned over and cried herself to sleep.

  XVI

  The next morning, Alex woke early, just after 4.00am; not wishing to disturb Teddy, he rose and wrapped her cream dressing gown around him before sitting on the tub chair that was in the corner of the room. He watched her while she slept – her rhythmic breathing was almost hypnotic – and he found his eyelids silently drooping. Teddy turned over, and Alex was alert again at once. She reached out with her arm and, discovering the bed empty, she opened one eye to search for Alex.

  ‘Oh, there you are,’ she muttered sleepily, ‘I thought you had left me.’

  ‘Never in a hundred years,’ he reassured her, before realising that he would break this promise within a week, so he added, ‘Even though I may not be here with you in person, you will always be with me in my heart.’

  Teddy flapped her arm in his direction, indicating that he should return to bed. Alex slipped the robe from his body and joined Teddy under the eiderdown.

  ‘Come here,’ she demanded, and she kissed him full on the lips, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth almost as if in search of anything that resembled a lie. ‘And you, darling Alex, will always be with me, here…’ She took his hand and guided it between her breasts. ‘In my heart, also.’

  The lovers fell asleep in each other’s arms and awoke together nearly five hours later.

  Alex gave Teddy a tender kiss on the forehead before sliding out of bed and making for the bathroom, where he drew himself a bath, indulgently sampling some of the fragrant concoctions that Teddy had collected. Finding the one that smelled the most masculine, he liberally applied it to the running bath water and was rewarded with a cloud of fragrant steam. He lowered himself into the water and lay back in relaxation, counting his blessings that he had found such a beautiful and giving woman to share his life.

  Alex dried himself, and then took the shaving brush, worked up a lather and applied it to his stubble. Carefully, he shaved away the shadow of a beard and moustache, and then considered his handiwork; after a few additional deft strokes to remove stubborn growth that had evaded his initial attempt, he was satisfied. Alex reached for a bottle of gentleman’s eau de cologne, splashed some onto his hands, and rubbed them together before applying them to his newly shaved face; the astringency made him gasp. His ablutions completed, he returned to his fiancée.

  ‘That smells nice,’ Teddy said when he returned to the bedroom.

  ‘Sorry,’ Alex apologised, ‘I found it on the windowsill.’

  ‘More of Toby’s leftovers,’ she said, ‘but I know he paid an absolute fortune for that, and he would hate it to go to waste. Besides…’ She inhaled noisily. ‘I actually do think it smells better on you!’

  Alex and Teddy dressed – he in his uniform, and she in a demure, pale-blue suit with an even-paler-blue blouse underneath. She attached a simple gold chain around her neck, from which hung a crucifix.

  Alex looked at her and gave his opinion, ‘Magnificent!’

  They left the flat, descended in the lift and then skipped from the building, holding hands and bidding a cheerful ‘Morning Harry!’ to the concierge, who was on duty at his station.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Palmer; good morning, Mr Carlton,’ he called after them as they left Cavendish Court.

  With a lightness and a fleetness of foot, they capered down Pembroke Road towards the Earls Court Road, and if they had not been hurrying, Alex would have likely missed the man in the grey raincoat and trilby on the opposite pavement.

  As they turned the corner onto the Earls Court Road, Alex drew Teddy towards him, put his finger against his lips, and said, ‘Shh! Watch this!’

  He smartly wheeled her around, and walked back towards the junction, just as the follower ran around the corner and then attempted to slow his speed to avoid colliding with Alex. He failed and bounced off against the edge of a shop doorway.

  ‘Oh, I say; awfully sorry, old man.’ Alex caught him and made a show of dusting the man’s lapels. ‘Better luck, next time,’ he commiserated before standing back and allowing the man to pass.

  Not to be outdone, but in apparent recognition of his failure, the man straightened his raincoat and raised his trilby to Teddy before saying, ‘Good morning,’ and scurrying off towards the Underground station.

  ‘What was all that about?’ enquired Teddy, somewhat confused.

  ‘It’s a game that my boss likes to play to see whether I am alert,’ he responded noncommittally. ‘Fifteen-love to me, I think!’

  They had planned to travel into town by the Underground railway, but Alex guided Teddy towards an approaching bus and helped her onto the rear platform as it drove past slowly, before jumping aboard himself. After climbing the back stairs to the top deck, they found the clippie waiting at the top, and Alex bought two tickets to Oxford Street before they collapsed onto a seat together.

  Travelling into London that Monday morning took even longer than it had two days previously. Looking out at the activity from their eyrie of the top deck of the bus, Alex and Teddy watched workmen filling sandbags to protect every public
building they passed, and they saw policemen stopping lorries, and opening the rear doors or pulling back the tarpaulins that covered their loads; they witnessed a London that was preparing for war. At one stage, their bus was even boarded by a policeman looking for disreputable passengers, and, on seeing Alex’s uniform, he demanded identification. Alex showed his naval identification card and asked what the problem was.

  Handing his identification back to him, the constable said sardonically, ‘We are at war, sir; haven’t you heard?’ before targeting another passenger.

  ‘I wonder if life will ever get back to normal,’ pondered Teddy reflectively.

  ‘Of course, it will,’ replied Alex, ‘It is what we are fighting to protect, although God help us if we fail.’

  *

  The bus eventually drew up in Oxford Street, just at the clock approached midday, and Alex and Teddy got off. It was an Oxford Street unrecognisable even from Saturday; it was an Oxford Street that was preparing for the worst, and desolation hung over the entire area, like a cloud. It seemed to Alex and Teddy that they were the only two people who were happy, and they determined that the despair around them was not going to burst their balloon. They made their way down Bond Street, cutting down a side road until they came to the terraced house that they had visited two days previously. Alex knocked on the door, and a sombre Mr Feldman opened it.

  ‘Good afternoon, sir and miss,’ he greeted them, and he opened the door wider for them to enter. ‘Come in, please, and take a seat. I shall fetch your ring,’ he announced, and he went out through the door, further into the house.

 

‹ Prev