The Fragile Hour (2 page)

Chapter
Two

At an office window above Baker Street underground station a stern-faced man in his forties stood looking out, his rank that of major in the Free Royal Norwegian Army. He could see on the far side of the bomb-damaged street a young Wren waiting for a gap in the passing traffic before she could cross. Although he had never met her, he recognised her as Anna Marlow from a photograph in his files.

“
She’s here,” he said to a fellow Norwegian, also in army uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, who came to join him at the window.

“
If looks were all that counted she’d be OK,” Karl Kringstad replied drily. He had read the file on her in this office less than half an hour before; it had given her age, birthplace, parentage and much else about her. “Let’s hope she measures up to her Commanding Officer’s report.”

It
had stated that Anna Marlow was intelligent, alert and conscientious in her duties. She had also kept a cool head in several emergencies during air-raids and once, at great risk herself from falling masonry, she had rescued and attempted to keep alive a fellow officer who had been trapped under rubble in a bombed cinema.

“
I admit that what we would expect of her is specialised work,” the Major agreed. “But it was your hunch that put me on her track.”

“
It was only based on what I heard said about her on one occasion.”

“
But Captain Gunnarsen had known her and her aunt in Norway and, as you said yourself, he’s a good judge of character. Anyway, we shall soon know. She’s starting to cross the street.”

“
I’d better go.” Karl turned away.

The
Major frowned, moving from the window with him. “Why not stay and make some judgement of her for yourself?”

Karl
hesitated, his gaze darkening. “I’m not sure whether I’m ready yet to voice an opinion about any possible replacement for Ingrid.”

The
Major was apologetic. “I was thoughtless. It’s too soon yet. I simply thought that, if the Marlow girl has the right qualities, you’ll be seeing more of her for a while than anyone else.”

He
saw the tightness increase about the younger man’s mouth, but there came a sharp nod of acceptance.

“
You’re right. I’ll sit in on this interview for a little while as an observer.”

“
Good. But don’t hesitate to ask the young woman questions if there’s something you want to hear direct from her.”

When
Anna was shown into the office, she was surprised not to see at least one or two naval officers or even a board of them. Instead she was facing a Norwegian major, ribbons on his chest, who was seated at a desk in a rather bare office brightened only by the scarlet, blue and white of Norway’s flag. Another man with striking Nordic good looks, whose age she judged to be about twenty-eight, stood by one of the two spare chairs. The only naval link was in the large photograph hanging on the wall behind the desk of King Haakon in his Admiral’s uniform.

“
I’m Major Andersen,” the officer said at once in Norwegian, “and this is Captain Karl Kringstad. You’re not here on any naval matter, but to give me the chance to talk informally with you. Please sit down.”

“
Thank you,” Anna said, also in Norwegian since that seemed to be the language chosen for this meeting. She took one of the seats in front of the desk, vaguely aware that Karl Kringstad had seated himself in the other. She was still bemused by this unexpected turn of events. Then, without warning, she was gripped by an icy fear of what she might be about to hear. “Am I here to receive bad news about my aunt in Oslo?” she demanded quickly, her hands clenched together in her lap.

Major
Andersen was quick to reassure her. “No! That’s not the reason! Not at all!” He rose from his chair to come round and perch his weight on the edge of the desk, facing her. “I regret causing you any unnecessary anxiety. We are all concerned about those whom we know in Norway. My own wife and children are there.” Then, before she could say anything, he continued, “I believe you have been in the WRNS since the very day King Haakon and Crown Prince Olav and the Government left Norway in exile for England.”

She
gave a nod, wondering how he knew. “It was June, 1940. I was already eighteen and about to leave school.”

While
speaking she had felt Karl Kringstad’s hard gaze on her from where he sat nearby. It made her feel uneasy and also intensely aware of him as an extremely physical man. In every way he was a contrast to the Major, who wanted her to be at ease. Glancing across at Karl she met a kind of dark look in his sharply intelligent grey eyes. It was not exactly hostility, but something equally turbulent and disturbing. She wished he was not in the room.

“
So you were very eager to join up,” the Major commented.

“
I was. In fact, I thought I was coming here today for a special interview before promotion.”

“
It’s nothing like that.”

Karl
chose to speak for the first time, his eyes never leaving her, and his voice held an oddly challenging note. “I can hear the west coast in your Norwegian.”

Anna
looked fully at him. He had a strong face, high-cheeked with a handsome Viking nose and a jaw to match, his mouth well-cut and his hair a dark wheat colour. There was a self-assured ease in his whole manner combined with an air of confidence that normally she liked in a man, but in his case she felt an extraordinary need to assert herself in order not to be overwhelmed by the force of his personality. There was a curious undercurrent passing between them.

“
As a matter of fact,” she remarked smoothly, “I can tell that you’re from Oslo.”

“
Correct.” He raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve an ear for the nuances of the Norse language.”

“
I think I can pride myself on that.” She turned again to the Major. “I believe that you, sir, are from Bergen.”

“
Yes, indeed.”

But
Karl Kringstad had not finished with her yet. “I’d like to know how you absorbed the county of Romsdal into your speech.”

“
There’s nothing surprising about it. I was only a year old when my mother took me to spend my first summer near Molde and that set the pattern for many summers afterwards. I suppose it could be said that for a while every year I grew up with the local children.”

The
Major was not oblivious to the underlying terseness in the questions and answers being exchanged between the two seated opposite him. Karl was revealing an interest in the character of this girl, bringing her out in his own way and it was going well.

Karl,
sitting back with one long leg crossed over the other, continued his selective questioning of Anna as he watched her closely. “You mentioned your aunt in Oslo. What is her name? Perhaps I know her.” But when Anna told him he shook his head. “No, I’ve never met Fru Rosa Johansen.”

“
Whereabouts did you live in the city?” She was determined not to be beaten down in this extremely civilised battle of questions and answers.

“
Grefsen. Do you know it?”

She
smiled, more at her own pleasant memories than due to any softening towards him. “Yes, I went often with my aunt to visit the Moen family on Tonsenveien.”

“
I grew up in the next road. They’re fine people. A bomb was dropped nearby on the first morning of the invasion and I went to see if they were all right, but they had only suffered smashed windows from the blast.”

Major
Andersen intervened at this point. “I’d like you to tell me who else you know in Oslo.”

Anna
’s resentment soared. It had been obvious to her almost from the start that these men were questioning her about Norway for some inexplicable reason of their own and she felt it was high time that it was explained to her. But she obliged the Major by listing her acquaintances in the city, adding that her closest friends were those with whom she had shared her summer days. Just as she was about to make a direct request to be told what this interview was all about, Karl stood up to leave. He made his apologies for having to break away. He turned to her.

“
Goodbye Fröken Marlow. Perhaps we’ll meet again one day.”

It
was a relief to her when he was gone. The room had been too full of his angry presence. She leaned forward and spoke forthrightly to Major Andersen, who was seated again at his desk.

“
Why am I here? Have you been testing my Norwegian? It’s obvious that you wanted to see me for a specific purpose. Is it that you wish me to transfer from the WRNS to be an interpreter for newly-arrived escapees?”

He
compressed his lips briefly. “It’s much more than that. But, before I explain, I want to tell you something of present conditions in Norway. The newspapers here print whatever they can, but I can give you an insight as to what Norwegians are having to endure in their daily lives.”

He
went on to list some of the hardships being imposed by Reichskommissar Terboven, the German commander in control of the country. She knew, as everybody did, of the thousands of young Norwegians escaping to join the Free Royal Norwegian Forces formed in England under their exiled king, but she had not known that the penalty for even attempting to escape from Norway was death by firing squad. The Major also told her that recently the fathers of the successful escapees had been taken as hostages, whatever their ages, and sent to one of the concentration camps in Norway. The most notorious of these was Grini near Oslo where hundreds of patriots, men and women, were housed in apalling conditions and subjected to brutal treatment.

“
Hitler thought Norway would be easy to subdue. After all, there are only three and a half million of us among all those mountains and fjords, but from the start on what we call the Home Front we proved him wrong. German reprisals and arrests and even torture happen every day, but nothing has checked the people’s determination not to be broken.”

Anna
looked down at her hands linked in her lap, moved by all that she had heard. “Occupied, but unconquered,” she said as much to herself as to him.

“
You’ve summed up the situation most accurately.” He paused for a moment. “How would you consider the chance to return there in these troubled times?”

Her
head jerked up and she stared at him, her heart beginning to thump heavily. A possible understanding as to why she was here had begun to dawn on her throughout all he had been saying. “How would I do that?”

He
sat back in his chair. “This is the headquarters of the Norwegian Section of Mr Churchill’s Special Operations Executive, which organises military sorties and sabotage by the Resistance in Norway, as is being done in every occupied country. Here we select fellow countrymen, who have escaped, to return to Norway secretly and to undertake extremely dangerous missions. Naturally they have to be of the right character and calibre to meet such requirements.”

“
You haven’t mentioned women.”

“
We have many women in the Resistance and you have been highly recommended. The training would be hard and strenuous. I’d want you to have a week’s leave to think it over.”

“
How soon could I start that training?”

His
eyes showed his satisfaction at her query. “Just as soon as I see you again. But there is an important point for you to remember. There can be no reunions with your aunt or anyone else in Norway. That would be putting their lives at risk just because you yourself would always be in danger. Their ignorance of your presence in the country would be their safeguard.”

The
thought of being in Norway and unable to see those she cared about was a bitter disappointment, but she accepted that it was how it had to be. “Does anyone else except you and Captain Kringstad know why I’m here?”

“
Only those within a closed circle.”

“
How did you hear about me?”

He
gave a slight shake of his head. “I can’t tell you that, but I will say that it came from a reliable source.”

“
I feel privileged to have been mentioned.”

They
talked for another half an hour. He could tell that already Anna had committed herself whole-heartedly to what had been asked of her.

“
Come back a week today,” he said as the interview came to an end. “I need hardly say that everything has been strictly confidential. Now enjoy your leave.”

In
the nearest telephone box Anna made a call to a good friend from her schooldays, Joan, with whom she usually spent her leaves. Joan, married to a bomber pilot serving overseas, and alone at home with a three-year-old, always looked forward to Anna’s visits. Her voice over the line was warm and welcoming.

“
Some unexpected leave prior to an overseas posting, Anna? No, of course I don’t mind that you can’t tell me where. Catch the next train!”