Voices on the Wind (9 page)

He wrote to her first. ‘My darling Minna, I'm writing from Nice, having just arrived. A very luxurious hotel; my God, how I wish you could be here with me. I think of what you and all our people at home are suffering and I feel guilty because I have everything I want. I don't know how to live with my own safety, when I think of Ernst and you and so many of our friends. But this is a very important job. A big promotion. Can I boast a little bit to you? I've done so well in Paris, that General Knocken sent me here to clear up a bad mess. They've been killing our troops, damaging German property and spying on us. I haven't met the fool who was in charge, but I'll see him this morning. I'm going to teach these people a lesson. I'm going to make this a safe place for our troops to walk at night. They won't get on a train or travel in a truck convoy and wonder if they're going to be blown up. And anyone I catch endangering our security will pay a price, I promise you. For you, and for Ernst and for all our people and the Führer, I'm going to play my part in winning this war and saving Germany. I promise you.'

He wrote tenderly, reminding her of the last time they made love. She was so weary and nerve-racked it had taken a long time to reassure her and achieve climax. But it had been the best of all for him. He had felt so much a part of her that he could well have left a child behind. He hoped so. He longed for her and read her letters again and again. She must know by now that he wasn't good at expressing himself on paper. When he came on leave he would bring her back to France with him. He wouldn't listen to her a second time. They'd marry and she'd come with him. He urged her to visit his mother and father. She was like a daughter to them. Ernst's girlfriend had married someone else. His parents didn't talk about her any more. He ended with their erotic nicknames for each other's bodies, wanting her as he wrote. Sighing, he closed up the letter. No German censor would read his love talk. The Gestapo were above the law. Then he began a long letter to his parents, describing the journey and the hotel and the weather, asking anxious questions about their health and welfare, offering whatever they needed. His father was a proud man, who had accepted the safe accommodation because of his wife and their respective parents. He refused to touch extra rations.

Eilenburg sealed that too. He looked at his watch. It was time to go down to the Headquarters at the Villa Trianon. If they thought they could over-ride the new man because he was young and Knocken's protégé from Paris, they would soon realize they were mistaken. Dressed, he paused for a moment to check himself in the mirror. He'd heard the references to Heydrich. Very flattering, he thought, except that he was ambushed by Czech agents and shot. By the time I've finished here, he said to his reflection, there won't be any agents left alive to shoot me if I walk unprotected down the Promenade and back.

He picked up the telephone. There were no preliminaries, just the order. ‘Standartenführer Eilenburg – I want my car at the entrance immediately.'

Within twenty-four hours of his arrival at the Villa Trianon the people of Nice knew they had a new Gestapo chief.

They had two days' rest in Gibraltar after the long flight from England. Kate and Judy sunned themselves on the balcony of the private house where they were staying. It was surprisingly warm for those two days. Fred, who had suffered miserably from air sickness on the bumpy flight, amused himself playing cards with their hosts, and stayed indoors. They were Anglo-Spaniards, and they were known only as Maria and José. They were charming, generous people, engaged in several anti-Nazi networks that operated on the Rock. Theirs was one of several houses where SOE agents waited for the boat to smuggle them across to France.

Philippe disappeared the second day. He didn't say where he was going and towards mid-afternoon Judy asked Maria. They were forbidden to roam round Gibraltar.

‘He's gone over the border into Spain.'

Kate stared at her. ‘But it's full of Germans! Supposing he was recognized?'

The woman shrugged. ‘He knows what he's doing,' she answered. ‘He must have business with someone in Valerez. Don't worry about him.'

‘I'm not.' Kate spoke sharply. ‘I'm worrying about us. We're not allowed to go out in the street in case someone sees us in France and remembers. Why should it be safe for him?'

‘Safe for who?' Philippe said behind her. There was a quick exchange in Spanish between him and Maria. Then he said to Kate, ‘I'm sorry you were worried. What I did was perfectly discreet. You'll have to learn to trust me, Cecilie. From now on, we use our code names at all times. Cecilie, Julie and you, Fred, will be Pandora.'

Fred protested. ‘That's a bloody girl's name.'

‘She opened a famous box,' the Frenchman said, and smiled. ‘I am Pierrot. The tide is right and we leave at midnight tonight.' He went out of the room. Kate frowned. ‘I think it's a bit silly making us use our code names to each other.'

‘It's standard practice when you leave on a mission,' Judy said. ‘Cecilie's rather nice, it suits you.' She saw the look of disgust on Fred's face. ‘Pandora's not too bad.'

She's very protective towards him, Kate noticed. She was really worried because he was feeling sick on that awful flight over. Cecilie, Julie, Pandora, Pierrot. What a strange name for him to choose; the faceless clown forever darting to and fro across the stage, a man hidden behind a painted mask. And by this time tomorrow they would be in France. Every muscle in her stomach knotted.

‘I'm scared,' she said out loud. ‘I'm really scared. Isn't that awful?'

Maria laughed. ‘Everyone is a little scared when they're waiting to sail,' she said. ‘It's a very good sign. It will make you cautious. And that helps to bring you home. Who would like some wine?'

She spoke to Judy, who looked up quickly and said, ‘What – Oh, yes, thank you.'

I wonder if she feels like I do, Kate thought. She's been very quiet about it. She's the experienced one. I think she's frightened for Pandora.

‘Let's get our stuff together, Julie,' she suggested.

The other girl nodded. ‘Good idea. Then we'll come down and have some wine.'

When they were in their room she said, ‘Don't worry, it'll be all right. I didn't want to say much because poor Pandora has butterflies in the stomach ever since we took off. It's bloody awful for him, not speaking a word and having to lie up somewhere till he's needed. I'll be happy when I see him set up safely.' She put her arm round Kate's shoulders. ‘It's the waiting that's difficult. The moment you land and make contact, you'll feel quite different.'

‘I never asked you,' Kate said. ‘Did you come this way before?'

‘I parachuted in,' she answered. ‘Into Brittany. That was pretty scary, but at least it was quick. I hate the sea crossing, I'm always as sick as a cat in a boat.'

And she was, right up to the moment when she was lifted ashore on a deserted beach just before dawn. Two men and a woman met them. They spoke in loud voices, laughing, offering cigarettes. Pierrot was known to them; she had begun to think of him by the code name. She wondered why they made so much noise. It seemed careless, when somebody, anybody, might have been walking out of sight but close enough to hear. She took a cigarette and found that she was so cold she couldn't light it. The trip had been rough and freezing. The cigarette made her feel queasy. She wished they'd stop talking at the top of their voices and get them off the beach. The felucca had turned about and was sailing away. For a moment they all joined in waving goodbye, then one of the men said to her,

‘This way. We've got some hot coffee and some cognac. Take my jacket, you're shivering.'

They crowded into an ancient van, with a gas bag tied to its roof. There was no petrol for French civilians. They put brandy into the mugs of filthy ersatz coffee, offered more cigarettes. Two young men, one with a consumptive cough; he'd given her his jacket: a middle-aged woman with wiry hair touched grey in places. Julie had some colour in her cheeks. Pandora was silent and withdrawn, nursing the hot drink. They were talking eagerly to Pierrot. He didn't seem affected by the journey across; in the feeble torchlight he could have been wearing some kind of mask, with the pale eyes glittering through the slits. Kate shivered, still cold, but it was the goose across the grave shiver that she remembered from her childhood when she was frightened of something unknown that was about to happen.

The Frenchwoman announced, ‘We're taking you through Nice and to your first safe house just outside. We'll have to pass the German checkpoint on the road because the curfew hasn't lifted.' She grinned at them. ‘Don't worry, we're the van that brings the milk to the Hôtel Mondiale for the Boche officers' breakfasts. They always let us through and they never look inside. You just lie on the floor and we'll stack the crates in front of you.'

They passed through the checkpoint; Kate heard the guttural German voices and held her breath, waiting for the van doors to be flung open. The milk crates were wedged in front of them. They were bent double hiding behind them. They were in darkness and the stop seemed to go on for ever. Someone laughed; it was followed by a brisk order.

‘
Machen Sie, dass Sie fortkommen
.'

They began bumping along and slowly Julie raised herself. ‘You all right, Pandora?'

The reply from the far side was cheerful. ‘Fine. How about you, love?'

He mustn't call her that, Kate thought in alarm. She ought to tell him.

She had lost the sense of time; in fact the last part of their journey was less than twenty minutes. When the back doors opened, the woman was smiling at them. The sun was fully up and the air smelt fresh after the stuffy atmosphere inside.

‘We leave you here,' she said. ‘Hurry, I'll introduce you, then we must get on or those swine won't have milk for their coffee. Or their slops emptied. I work there, you see. Useful, cleaning out their bedrooms.' She laughed, shaking her head.

They were in a quiet side road, surrounded by pine trees. The van had stopped in front of a pink-washed house, low-built and shuttered. The front door opened and a man and a woman came out. They were both elderly, the man limped as he came towards them. They embraced the woman and shook hands with Kate, Julie and the silent Pandora, who only grinned and nodded. The Provençal accent was very strong. Kate looked round, wishing they would go inside, out of sight. Nobody seemed concerned with security. And there was no sign of Pierrot.

She said, ‘I think we'd be better in the house', and led the way.

‘I am Marcel,' the old man said. ‘And my wife, Jeanne. You will stay here with us until Dulac comes. You must be tired and hungry after the journey. My wife will make something to eat and I'll show you where you can sleep.'

‘Marcel,' Kate said. ‘Another comrade came with us. Pierrot, do you know him?' When he nodded, she said, ‘He didn't come in the van – where is he?'

Marcel shrugged. ‘He goes his own way,' he said. ‘He must have other business. Don't worry about him.'

She and Julie were given a tiny attic room which smelt of must and had a window which wouldn't open. There were two small iron bedsteads with blankets and hard mattresses. It was swept clean, but airless as a tomb. Kate sat on the bed; she felt numb with tiredness.

‘Julie,' she began, ‘why didn't Pierrot come with us? I didn't even realize he had left the van.'

The other girl said hurriedly, ‘Oh, God knows. He's a law unto himself. Look, I want to see where poor Pandora is – if he wants to pee he can't even ask where to go. I shan't be long.'

Kate sat for some minutes, waiting for her to come back. The time passed.

‘She's not thinking of anything but him,' Kate said out loud. ‘They've probably gone down to eat. I wish I felt hungry. Maybe I would if I wasn't so uneasy.'

She got up, stretched and rebuked herself. ‘Stop talking to yourself, you idiot. You'll go round the bend.'

There was soup and coarse home-made bread. Wine was offered. Marcel and his wife were talking excitedly, asking questions about England. Kate liked them both and wondered how they had become involved in such dangerous work. Simple, honest people; living the frugal lives of the French under Occupation. She was sure that what they were eating was the old couple's ration for the day.

Julie said, ‘When is Dulac coming?'

Their faces glowed with enthusiasm. ‘Tonight. There'll be a meeting here. It's so wonderful when he comes. He brings such hope to us all.' They looked at each other and Jeanne said, ‘He's a great man. You'll love him, just like all of us.'

Kate translated. ‘Must be a bloody marvel,' Pandora muttered. He looked bewildered and disconsolate. He couldn't understand a word and kept watching Julie.

‘Do you always meet here?' she asked.

Marcel nodded. ‘We are the reception house. Dulac will decide what he wants you to do and where you are to go. Sometimes people stay here with us. We like it. Our sons are gone and it gets lonely. There are no houses near, only the woods. It makes this a good place for people to stay. The Germans never come this way. We're left in peace.'

His wife said, ‘We've talked enough; let the poor children sleep. They're always so tired when they first come.'

‘Julie,' Kate said when they were upstairs, ‘why didn't Pierrot come with us? He's our senior officer till we meet Dulac. Surely it's most irregular to disappear like that and leave us to it?'

Julie sounded sleepy. ‘He knows this place backwards. He knew who was meeting us and that we'd be all right. I don't know why you get so hot and bothered about him.'

‘I don't know either,' Kate answered. ‘There's just something about him.'