by Allan Jones
The men drew near and Henri replied, “We’re all fine, the job is done, everything went to plan.”
They were all smiles as they strode proudly to join her .They exchanged kisses and hugs, till Gaspar asked, “The plane! It came?”
“It came,” Lucille assured them. “They are safe, back in England.”
Henri spoke next. “And the ‘Bandit,’ he is here?”
A smile played on Lucille’s lips as she replied, “You could say that. Er… he is upstairs; get inside and take those filthy boots off and I’ll call him down.” She turned and went inside.
Gaspar and Henri busied themselves with their boots till presently Lucille returned to the kitchen. Then they stood as the sound of footsteps came down the stairs.
An attractive middle-aged woman stood in the doorway. She had blonde hair framing her round face and mischief glittered from her piercing blue eyes as she smiled warmly at them. Henri and Gaspar’s jaws dropped and they stared open-mouthed in surprise, till Henri recovered first. “You! You are ‘Bandit’?” he asked.
The woman came into the room. “Yes, you can call me Juliette,” she announced. “Which of you is Gaspar?”
Henri nodded towards a still-amazed Gaspar. The woman went and draped herself on Gaspar’s arm. In a low, sultry voice, she said: “Hello, Gaspar, I’m your new wife.”
Gaspar exploded! “Wife! Wife! I ’ave no need of a wife!”
The woman continued. “The Captain seems to think you do! See, I have the ring! And I have the papers to prove it!” She held up her ring finger in front of Gaspar’s eyes, teasing him.
Gaspar appealed to Henri .“Henri, what is this? Lucille! It is a joke, no?”
He watched them appealingly as first smiles grew on their faces, and then he saw them both collapse into helpless, raucous laughter. He was puzzled at first, but then, gradually, it affected him also and he dissolved, his braying laughter spiralling out of control, encouraging them still further, till tears of mirth filled all their eyes.
Juliette looked on. She didn’t see the joke herself, but the laughter was infectious and she couldn’t help but join in!
CHAPTER 16
The plane landed at Bodmin. They had a scare during the trip as a fighter plane came out of nowhere and roared over them, causing their pilot to dive the plane in a gut reaction. The pursuer hurtled after them, caught them up and settled itself on their wingtip. They could clearly see the roundel markings and the silhouette of its pilot giving a thumbs-up signal. It was a Hurricane, sent to escort them on the last leg of their flight. Had there not been a need for radio silence, they would have been spared the fright, but now its presence was reassuring and they relaxed a little.
The Hurricane left them as they were on their final approach and streaked off low over the moor, back to its base.
The plane taxied next to the waiting car. Gibbons had sent his own Hudson. They said their thanks and goodbyes to the pilot. Amelia was amazed at how young he looked, her thoughts flitting to her dead Bill. Then they climbed into the car and settled into the plush leather seats, grateful for the ample leg room after their confinement in the small plane. The car drove to Fowey and pulled into the rear entrance of the Fowey Hotel, which overlooked the glittering harbour filled with warships of all kinds. The driver saluted and went off to park the car.
They walked through the door and were immediately assailed by Pru as she flew into Amelia’s arms, gushing her joy and welcome. Paul looked over and saw Gibbons rising from his chair, till he too was treated to Pru’s hugs and kisses.
Gibbons strode over.“Pru! Put them down, girl, let them get in the door.”
Pru released Paul, allowing Gibbons to shake his hand, as she drew Amelia into the room and over to the sofas. “Welcome home, Captain, it’s good to see you again,” he said warmly, pumping Paul’s hand in a firm grip.
“It’s good to be back, sir,” Paul said with sincerity.
They joined the women at the sofas and settled themselves into their seats. Gibbons extended his hand to Amelia. “And welcome back to you, young lady. You gave us quite a scare; thought we’d lost you,” he said with a warm smile ,then turned to Paul. “I assume, since you’re back, that you’ve dealt with that business at Rennes?”
“Yes, sir, it’s dealt with,” Paul said, and went on to tell him of Sims’ treachery and how he had unmasked him. Gibbons listened attentively, leaning forward in his seat.
When Paul had finished, Gibbons spoke to Amelia. “It was your disappearance that set the final alarm bells ringing. Made us take a closer look. Things started not to add up: a niggle here, a detail wrong there. I was in the stages of planning an op. when these two burst into my office, all fired up, with your cryptic photographs in their hands. I saw the opportunity of killing two birds, so to speak.”
He paused for a while as a man came over and whispered something in his ear. “Chef has very kindly stayed up to put on a spread for us ,by way of a welcome back.” He spoke to the hotel manager. “Please thank chef for me, and tell him we’re ready at his convenience.” The man departed.
Gibbons asked the question. “So! What did you get?”
Paul spoke up. “We have a complete dossier on all the collaborators in the area, personnel files on all Gestapo, SS, Abwehr officers, Milice, Gendarmerie, the usual stuff. I have info from my visit to the Luftwaffe base that ought to be useful to the RAF, some juicy bits of dirt on some high rankers Wessendorf was blackmailing; but best of all, we have detailed info on all the submarine pens on the Brittany coast: details of building works, defences, security procedures, dossiers on responsible personnel .St Nazaire,Brest, Lorient, La Rochelle, the lot! Plus, we know the location near Brest where they’ve set up one of their triangulation points for radio signals detection for the whole of France; the others are, one in Paris, the other in Germany. I recommend we bomb it immediately, sir.”
Gibbons looked thoughtful. He stroked his chin as Paul awaited his response .“Best not to tip our hand just yet, I think. We’ll think of away to deal with it now we know. I’ll get the boffins on it right away. Anything else?”
Paul looked to Amelia and nodded for her to take up the story. She cleared her throat before speaking. “Well,” she began nervously, “there’s plans, detailed plans and maps of the ‘Atlantic Wall’ defences, all of them, every region, some already built, some in planning, some still under construction. Every pillbox, every tank trap, killing zones, fallback positions, it’s all there.”
Gibbons was astonished. “He had all that!”
Paul answered. “He had no right to, that’s for sure. Amelia and I think he got them through bribes or blackmail. We think perhaps he was going to use them as a sort of insurance policy if the war started to turn against Germany. Offer to sell them to us in exchange for his neck. He’d also built up a considerable fortune, most of which is in a Swiss account. We have the number; perhaps we could get our hands on it to boost the Ops budget.”
“That’s a thought,” Gibbons agreed. “It’s in those bags?”
Paul handed him his satchel. “It’s all in here on these films.”
Gibbons rummaged inside the bag, then paused, lost in thought. “Look here, I’ve got to make a phone call. Pru, show them into the dining room, will you? I’ll join you there .”He picked up the bag and scurried off.
Pru led them to the table. The dining room afforded a fine view across the harbour and out to sea. The moonlight glittered on the water, and they paused to take in the sight. .Pru took Amelia’s arm. “Come with me to the loo?”
“Sure,” Amelia replied, and they went off arm in arm, talking busily.
Paul stared at the few lights of Polruan visible across the water; the moon rode high in the sky and a myriad of stars engrossed him. He let out a deep breath. For the first time in an age he began to feel relaxed; he could almost feel the tension of the last few months palpably draining away. A smile played across his lips as he rehearsed the plan he had in mind for later. He w
as so lost in thought that he jumped when Gibbons appeared beside him.
Gibbons was about to speak when he was interrupted by the bustle of the women’s return. At the same time, they were called to the table. Gibbons opened the champagne and poured, and, after a few toasts, they settled down to their first decent meal in what seemed like a lifetime.
When it was over, Gibbons pushed his seat back for comfort and addressed them all. “Well, Winston was delighted,” he said, smiling broadly.
Pru gasped .“You called him! At this hour?”
“He often works late, into the small hours; only time he can get a bit of peace. He wants to see you two: we’re to dine with him at Downing Street tomorrow evening. We fly from here to Hendon at 0900 hours this morning; chance for a bit more sleep on the plane. Then I suppose we’ll have to kit you scruffs out with something decent to wear! We’ll have time to get to Harrods, Moss Bros, etcetera. Might as well get myself a new outfit while we’re at it. Make a note of it, Pru.”
“Yes, sir! Me too ,sir?”
Gibbons sighed and raised his eyes to the heavens.“Pru Perkins! When have I ever been able to go anywhere or do anything without you? Yes, of course you too.”
“Oh goody, nice new frock!” She smiled over at Amelia. “We can get some fancy undies while we’re at it, eh! Push the boat out while we’re allowed!”
Gibbons smiled. “No more than you deserve. Do you know, she camped out in the signal room for days; couldn’t shift her, said she wanted to be on hand, wouldn’t trust anyone else. When your signal came through, she broke records rushing it to me.”
“I remember. I didn’t have long to wait for the answer. Thanks, Pru, it can get pretty hairy, the waiting,” Amelia said.
She took Pru’s hand and they smiled at each other. “You’re welcome,” Pru replied, her eyes moistening.
“Who’s for brandy? A nightcap,” Gibbons asked, and was a little taken aback when the women, as well as Paul, immediately proffered their glasses.
Amelia entertained them with the tale of her adventures in detail, and Gibbons asked some pertinent questions, having to raise his voice over Pru’s laughter. She had found Wessendorf’s predilections extremely amusing, and pressed Amelia to tell every detail. Amelia obliged, which sent Pru off into more paroxysms, infecting the company till they were all roaring with laughter.
Presently, Gibbons noticed the hovering waiters. “Ah, mustn’t keep these good people up any longer. Come! Anyone feel like some fresh air?”
He rose and they all drifted through the french windows onto the cast-iron balcony. They lined up, glasses in hand, and leant on the rail, taking in the spectacular view. Gibbons broke the silence. “Well! A fine evening; a fine end to a most spectacular success. Well done! Well done everybody!” He raised his glass, and they all drained them.
Gibbons looked at his watch. “Well, time to get some shut-eye, I think. Come on, Pru, let’s leave these two on their own, shall we?” They said their goodnights, accompanied with handshakes and kisses, then Gibbons and Pru went inside. Amelia turned and watched them go and had to nudge Paul quickly for him to see.
As they watched the departing pair, they saw that Gibbons was gently patting Pru’s bottom! “My God!” Amelia exclaimed.
“You didn’t know? Bit of an open secret!” Paul laughed.
“The tart!” Amelia said.
“You’re not kidding,” Paul replied, and told her of the time Pru had caught him with his trousers down. They laughed together till Amelia grew serious and, draping her arms sensuously round his neck, said softly, “She’s right, though: I am a lucky girl.” She kissed him.
Paul held her apart. “Speaking of luck, you still got that brooch I gave you?”
Amelia released him and reached inside her shirt and produced it, holding it out to him in the palm of her hand. “Do you want it back? After all, it was your mother’s.”
He smiled at her. “No. No. Actually, I have a confession to make. I only gave you half of my talisman. I kept the other half for myself. Here it is.”
He placed a matching ring next to the brooch in her hand. She looked at it, her eyes wide, her mouth open in surprise. She looked up at him as he took the ring and hovered it over her finger.
He looked earnestly into her eyes and said: “I want you to marry me. Will you?”
Her eyes filled with tears and her smile broadened. Her heart was thumping as she said, “Yes! Yes! Of course! Of course I’ll marry you.” Paul slipped the ring onto her finger and they fell into each other’s arms and kissed repeatedly. “I love you so much,” she breathed into his ear, prompting more urgent kisses from him.
“I love you too, always will and I always have. I fell under your spell the first time we met, on the train. When I was babbling. There was something about you, endearing, I don’t know. I just wanted you from then on.”
“I guess I felt it too, but back then I was confused. Still grieving, I suppose.”
“And here we are,” he sighed.
“Yes, my darling man, here we are.”
A thought struck her suddenly and she detached from his embrace. “Here, what about them! Do you think they’ll let us? They may not while the war’s on; they might separate us, send us off to different places.”
Paul gathered her again into his arms and looked deeply into her eyes. “They’ll never separate us again, I promise. After all, some of the best spies in the world are married couples!”