Hetty's Secret War

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘I think it makes it a bit more bearable if you put home-made pickles in it,’ Georgie said, ‘but we don’t have any of that here, do we?’

  ‘Up from the country are you, luv?’ the woman asked cheerfully.

  ‘Yes, just for a couple of days.’

  ‘Staying with friends?’

  ‘No. I’ve come to meet my friend.’

  ‘Going to have a little fling with your feller?’ The other woman grinned at her. ‘It’s all right, luv. We’re all in the same boat. My feller was home last month. I shan’t see him no more for a year, worse luck – still, as long as he gets back in one piece that’s all that matters, ain’t it?’

  ‘Yes, of course it is,’ Georgie said and smiled. ‘We’ve had it easy where I come from compared to you. We’ve seen a few dogfights and a German plane crashed into the field near my house. It went up in flames. I don’t think anyone got out alive. They searched in case, but they seemed to think they had all died.’

  ‘Poor buggers,’ the woman said. ‘My name is Dot, luv. I know I didn’t ought ter feel sorry for the bloody Jerrys, but I ’ate ter think of any man dyin’ like that.’

  ‘I’m Georgie. Yes, I agree, it’s horrid – except that it makes you hate them more when you see what happened tonight just round the corner.’

  ‘We don’t none of us know what’s comin’ next,’ the other woman agreed. ‘My parents lost their ’ouse last week, but they got out all right so that’s all that matters. They’ve moved in with friends now. I told them to leave and go live in a cottage in the country and they told me they bloody well wasn’t going to let that Hitler win, so what can you do?’

  ‘Not very much,’ Georgie said. ‘Other than what you already are, keeping going despite it all.’

  ‘That’s just right,’ Dot said. ‘Well, that’s the last of the Spam then. We shall have to start on the paste next and then it’s jam. Still, that’s better than we got when we were kids. A bit of bread and scrape if we wus lucky. I tell yer, the kids these days don’t know they’re born!’

  *

  ‘Well, I think you were brave and foolish to go out after a raid like that,’ Ben said, his arms protectively around her as they lay side by side in bed. ‘It can be very dangerous, Georgie. Bombs don’t always go off immediately, you know. And there are gas leaks and explosions, to say nothing of danger from fires and collapsing buildings.’

  ‘Well, I was fine so there’s no need to worry,’ Georgie told him. ‘I was telling you about Dot. She’s a really funny lady. She had me laughing all the time. It didn’t seem as if anything out of the ordinary had happened.’

  ‘Salt of the earth some of these Londoners,’ Ben said and held her closer. ‘I’m just glad you’re all right. I couldn’t have stood it if anything had happened.’

  ‘Silly,’ Georgie said and pressed herself against him, lifting her face for his kiss. They had already made love twice since he’d got here. It seemed that they just couldn’t get enough of each other, and it just kept getting better and better. ‘I love you so much, Ben. I know I shouldn’t say it, but I hate being on my own now. I miss you so very much when you’re not there. It’s daft considering that until a few weeks ago I hadn’t seen you in years, but that’s the way it is. I hate this war for taking you away from me!’

  ‘It will be over one day, darling. I promise you,’ Ben said and his hands were firm and gentle as they stroked her back. ‘I’m sorry I wasted all those years when we might have been together. If I could go back to the beginning I would do it all differently, believe me.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault, Ben. Things were stacked against us. One day we’ll be together and then we’ll look back on this time and think how romantic it was.’

  ‘Well, at least Jerry seems to be giving it a rest tonight,’ Ben said and began to kiss her neck. She could feel him harden against her thigh and knew he wanted her again, but she was ready too, and she put out her hand to caress him and show him that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. ‘I’m like a man dying of thirst in the desert,’ Ben said on a laugh. ‘But I promise I’ll take you somewhere tomorrow. I want to buy you a present. Something nice for Christmas.’

  ‘I’ve got you a present,’ Georgie said. ‘And I managed to get a nice duck. We’ll make it our Christmas tomorrow, shall we? A Christmas dinner in the evening with all the trimmings we can find, and presents.’

  ‘Yes, that’s just what we’ll do,’ Ben said and covered her with his body.

  For a while they both forgot that when Christmas actually came they would be apart.

  *

  Georgie went back to the flat after she’d seen Ben off at his station. He wasn’t returning to Scotland, but somewhere down south. He hadn’t told her exactly where and she hadn’t asked.

  ‘I’ll be thinking of you all the time, darling,’ he’d said as he held her for one last embrace. ‘Take care of yourself, Georgie.’

  ‘I shall think of you always,’ she’d said. ‘Come back to me soon, Ben.’

  ‘Of course. As soon as I can.’

  He hadn’t looked at her as he’d said it and she’d felt an awful chill at her nape. Ben didn’t need to tell her he was about to do something dangerous; she knew. He was nervous but also excited; she had picked up the vibes despite his efforts to control them.

  He hadn’t wanted her to wait until the train left, so she’d walked away as soon as he’d boarded. Her eyes were bright with tears, but she hadn’t cried. She didn’t cry until she got back to the flat and found one of his socks lying under the bed. She picked it up and, on impulse, shoved it into her coat pocket. Stupid of course, but it was all she had of him personally. The presents he’d given her were beautiful and included a soft cashmere coat and a gold bracelet.

  ‘But that’s far too much,’ she’d protested when he’d given her both presents. ‘The coat alone is very generous, Ben.’

  ‘I want to make up for lost time,’ he’d told her. ‘For all the years I wanted to give you a present and knew I couldn’t. When I come home, you’re going to be one spoiled lady, my darling.’

  ‘Just love me, keep loving me as much as you do now – that’s all I ask.’

  ‘I shall love you until I die and, if it’s possible, afterwards.’

  ‘Do you think it’s possible, Ben?’

  ‘I don’t know – but if it is, I shall, Scout’s honour.’

  They had laughed and made love again – so many times that Georgie had lost count. It had been the most wonderful two days of her life and she would treasure the memory.

  Pray God it wouldn’t have to last her for the rest of her life, Georgie thought as she locked Ben’s apartment and went out – but she mustn’t let herself think like that or she would break down in tears. And she wasn’t going to cry any more!

  *

  ‘You are my A student,’ Keith Barker said to Ben as they smoked a last cigarette and drank a glass of wine together. ‘I despair of some of them ever getting it right. The main thing is to keep your wits about you and remember what we’ve taught you. For God’s sake don’t do what that ass Forsythe did last week. He started to speak English to me when I offered him an English cigarette. Even if you think they’re all right, stick to French and be certain. They know we’re sending teams of French-speaking operatives over there and they’ll catch you out if they can.’

  ‘Merci, monsieur,’ Ben said and grinned at him. He liked the man and felt flattered that he had been picked for this urgent mission. ‘I know where my brains are, thank you, sir, but I’m not likely to make that mistake.’

  ‘Anyone can have an unguarded moment,’ he said and frowned. ‘The last man completely messed up, that’s why we’re having to send you in so soon. I wanted you to have more training on the explosives, but there’s no help for it. Foxcub needs you and you’re the only one who can remember the new codes. We’re reluctant to transmit them because we think they may have his frequency. Foxcub is going to change it when you get there and we shall
wait until we hear the signal before we reply.’

  ‘What about the other supplies he asked for? You were waiting for clearance on those, weren’t you?’

  ‘We’ll be sending them a day or so after we get the new codes in place. Otherwise they could be waiting to pick them up – and they may be waiting for you, Ben. Just be aware that instead of Foxcub’s men you could find a very different welcoming party.’

  ‘Yes, I am aware of that, sir.’

  ‘If the pilot suspects danger he will divert and you’ll be dropped at another location. If that happens it means you will have to make your way to the original dropping zone yourself or if that fails keep the rendezvous at the second location. You have the references in your mind – you know what to do if it all goes pear-shaped?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Ben tapped the side of his head and looked confident. ‘I know the area Foxcub is using. It isn’t far from Paris and I used to drive out there with Hetty for picnics. That’s why I was able to assimilate the details so easily.’

  ‘Good man. It’s your experience on the ground as well as your grasp of the language that makes you so useful to us – but I wish you’d had more time on the explosives. You’d better tell Foxcub that you didn’t finish the course, ask him to fill you in on anything you’re not sure of. He’s an excellent man, the best of our contacts over there. Some of the groups are disjointed, amateur affairs; there’s one in particular that has caused us a few headaches in the past. Foxcub isn’t sure where they’re working from or he would have told them to fall into line and co-ordinate their attacks. They mean well and they’ve had some success, but they work on their own and they messed up an attack Foxcub had planned last month. They didn’t know, of course, but they blew up a patrol the night before an important person was due to pass through and compromised weeks of planning. He was furious about it, but until he can make contact, there’s not much he can do to stop them. He’s heard a woman is running the show, but it may just be rumour.’

  ‘Sounds a bit unlikely, sir,’ Ben said. ‘Still, if things haven’t been going just right it may be that a woman is behind it – and Georgie would have my guts for garters if she heard me say that.’

  ‘Friend of yours?’ Keith Barker raised his brows.

  ‘Yes…’ Ben slipped a hand into his cheap, French-made suit and took out an envelope. ‘This is for Georgie if anything happens. I was thinking of leaving it in my room, but you’ll see she gets it if necessary?’ He felt a pang of regret for all the wasted years and prayed he would make it back to the woman he loved.

  ‘Yes, of course. Not carrying anything else that might give you away, are you? You’ve got rid of all your English stuff as instructed?’

  ‘Yes, sir. It was just this.’

  ‘Well, it’s probably time you were on your way, Ben.’

  ‘Yes, sir. It looks like being a dull night.’

  ‘All the better for you.’

  They shook hands and Ben went out into the raw cold of a bitter night. The aircraft was waiting and he ran across to be greeted by the pilot and a junior officer who helped him to board.

  ‘Put these on, sir,’ the young officer said and handed him a fur-lined helmet and gloves. ‘You’ll find it a bit cold up there tonight.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Ben took them gratefully. It was bloody stupid to feel an attack of nerves now. He’d gone over this a hundred times in his mind, but he was already trembling inside and he hoped it didn’t show. ‘I mustn’t take them with me, though.’

  ‘No, sir. Good luck, sir.’

  The pilot turned round to grin at him and the gunner in the tail fin put his hand up in a salute as Ben scrambled on board and sat down. His stomach was tying itself in knots. It was one thing to talk this thing through with his commander but very different on a cold December night to be actually doing it. The navigator was helping him to fasten his parachute.

  ‘This is for an emergency. In case we can’t put you down. You have practised this I hope?’

  ‘Yes, of course. We covered all emergencies.’

  Ben hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. The plan was to land on a strip prepared by Foxcub and his men, but there was a chance he would have to drop in.

  ‘We’ll soon have you there, old chap,’ the pilot said. ‘First time up in one of these birds is it?’

  ‘I’ve been up in a few, but not one of these,’ Ben said. ‘Looks like it’s a rough night.’

  ‘Just right for what we want,’ he said. ‘Hold on tight. We’re getting the signal for take-off.’

  Ben sat back and held his breath, closing his eyes until he felt lift off. He willed himself to think of something other than what was happening. He mustn’t lose his bottle now. They were all relying on him. He mustn’t let them down. As a child, his mother had often made him feel he was letting her down; he’d tried hard to make up for it after his father’s death, but he knew he could never measure up to her expectations. Helen had been much the same, always dwelling on his failures rather than his few triumphs. Not that there had been many of them, apart from his writing. Maybe that was why he’d welcomed this chance to do something with his life, to show himself that he was capable of being both brave and decisive. He’d spent too many years worrying about duty and the way others saw him – and he knew he’d hurt the woman he’d always loved because he’d taken the easy path. Why hadn’t he been brave enough to defy his mother’s expectations and marry for love?

  He thought about Georgie, about her lying in his arms, kissing him. He remembered the taste and feel of her, her own special scent, and wondered what she was doing that night. Would she be making toast in front of the fire? Would she be thinking of him?

  He imagined the two of them toasting bread together. Where would they choose to live after the war? If he was as successful with his writing as he had been before the war, he could buy them a small place of their own. Helen and his children would have Tarleton Towers, of course. He wasn’t sure what Georgie would want to do about her own home…

  They were up at last, on their way. The nerves that had attacked Ben on take-off were under control now. He felt a return of the excitement he’d felt about making the trip and settled down. He had everything clear in his mind. It was all going to be fine.

  *

  The mist had settled thickly over the land by the time they reached France. The pilot circled lower and lower, looking for the flares that would tell him he had found the right dropping zone, but there was no sign of anything.

  ‘It’s right, according to my references,’ the navigator told the pilot. ‘Something must have gone wrong.’

  ‘Shall we abort the mission and try again another night?’

  ‘No, that is out of the question,’ Ben said. ‘Double-check your references and if you’re sure this is it I’ll go in.’

  ‘You’ll never find your way in that, sir. Wouldn’t be able to see your hand in front of your face in mist as thick as that.’

  ‘I’m going in,’ Ben said stubbornly. He wasn’t going to fail again! ‘This can’t be aborted. It has to be tonight.’ If he went back it would mess all their plans up and he refused to give up at the first hurdle.

  ‘You’re the boss,’ the pilot told him. ‘I’ll take us up to the proper height, sir. This is as close as we’re going to get to where you should be dropped, but I don’t like the idea of you taking pot luck without the signal.’

  ‘I know how to find my contact,’ Ben said. ‘We arranged a secondary meeting in case this was aborted. Just drop me and get out of here before something happens.’

  ‘I think that’s an open field down there,’ the pilot said as for a moment the mist seemed to clear. ‘You know what to do? Is your parachute secure?’

  ‘Yes, it’s all done,’ Ben said. ‘I’m ready now.’

  ‘Tally-ho then, sir. Good luck!’

  He prayed silently as he left the plane, a sick feeling in his stomach. This was another thing he hadn’t had enough practice for unfortunately. They had been ce
rtain it wouldn’t be necessary, but they hadn’t bargained on the fog being this thick or Foxcub letting them down. Thankfully his chute opened properly and he floated down endlessly, feeling like he was in some kind of a nightmare.

  He landed with a sickening crunch on his right ankle. The pain told him immediately that he had damaged it, though when he tried getting up he discovered that he could just about put it to the ground. Probably not a break then, but a nasty jolt that would hurt like hell if he had to walk far. He told himself to keep calm and take things slowly. He could still walk, so it might have been worse. All he had to do was find somewhere to rest for the night. In the morning his ankle might be better and he could find his contact easier once the mist had lifted.

  But first of all he had to get rid of the parachute, helmet and gloves. He’d meant to leave the helmet and gloves behind, but the chute was a give-away in itself. He had to find a thick bush to hide the stuff. The mist seemed a little thinner here on the ground than it had from above, and he saw a ditch just ahead of him. He would dump the things there and tell Foxcub where to find them. Someone else could come back and make a better job of covering them. He wasn’t about to try digging with his bare hands in ground as hard as this! It was freezing!

  He hobbled as far as the ditch and dumped all the stuff in it and then turned away. His ankle hurt more than he’d imagined and he realised it might be a minor fracture after all. He swore as he got out his compass and found the glass had cracked when he landed. He could just about see the needle and hoped it was still working properly. If the pilot had got his references right, he needed to head due north from here.

  Ben started to walk in what he hoped was the right direction. His best bet was to keep moving and watch out for German patrols.

  He shivered in his thin clothes. They were cheap and they felt it! Cursing beneath his breath, he wondered why he was stuck in alien country on a night like this instead of in a nice warm bed at home. His teeth gritted against the bitter cold, he missed his own thick overcoat, which was hanging in the wardrobe in his apartment, and then told himself not to be a misery guts.