Wanderlust (45 page)

Not about anything important. But your nose goes white when you tell lies. A little along the same principle as Pinocchio.

He lay back against his pillows and closed his eyes in the comfortable bed. She was really hopeless. He opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling. There was no point hiding from her any longer. She would hound him all night. His very own Mata Hari. I'm going away for a few days, and I can't tell you where, so don't ask me.

Charlie! she exclaimed in surprise and sat up in bed. Then you are doing something you were lying to me about. She was stunned at how accurate she had been, and he sounded tired and resigned now.

I was not lying.

Yes, you were. She looked delighted as she looked down at him. Now what was it?

I told you, Audrey. I can't tell you. It's top secret. She hesitated at the words, only slightly stymied.

Is it dangerous?

No. He didn't want her to worry.

Then why can't you tell me?

It's just a little trip with General Wavell. I promised him I wouldn't say anything. He tried to make it sound like nothing at all that would interest her, and she suddenly wondered if General Wavell had a mistress.

Is that it?

Well ' Audrey ' I can't say. It's a question of honor between men. But he was doing everything he could to convince her, wishing he had thought of that before himself. And she took the bait, much to his relief. He let her attack him again after that, and she kissed him sleepily after they made love.

How long will you and the General be gone?

Just a few days ' now don't say anything to anyone. He smiled to himself as she drifted off to sleep. He wasn't as bad a spy as she thought. He just prayed that he would be able to get the information for them.

While Charlie was dressing the next morning, Audrey loaded her cameras and sipped a cup of coffee. Their breakfast always came up on trays, and Shepheard's served fabulous croissants that she complained were making her fat, but as she sang the same old refrain she glanced at Charlie's dresser with a look of surprise and he froze.

What are you doing with my passport? She always kept it in a closed compartment in her camera bag, in case someone asked her for it. She had a great deal more liberty everywhere as an American than she would have if she'd been British. Her American passport was a great advantage to her since America still hadn't entered the war. She was officially neutral as a result, unlike Charlie. And she walked toward the dresser now to pick it up, still confused as to how it had gotten there, while he desperately thought of a reason to distract her as she advanced. He stopped her just before she reached for it and asked if she'd pour him a cup of tea, and as he said it, he scooped the passport up in his hand again and walked across the room as though to put it in her bag for her, but he found that as he fumbled with it, she was watching him and her eyes were very serious now. She set down the pot of tea and stared at him.

That's not my passport, is it, Charlie? She had caught on immediately, and he cursed the day he had let her stay in Cairo with him. She was just too damn smart for her own good, and his this time. And there was no avoiding her now.

He shook his head as he looked at her. No, Audrey, it's not.

Whose passport is it?

They stood looking at each other from across the room, and she began to understand things for the first time. She suddenly knew now that he had been working for the Home Office in Intelligence all along. And he wasn't going to deny it to her now. He was going to trust her with his life, and he hoped he wasn't wrong. One careless word on her part could have gotten him killed. It's my passport.

She nodded. She understood perfectly. I had no idea before this. Her voice was almost a whisper as she talked to him. Is it in a different name? She wondered just how far they would go, and just how involved he was.

But he shook his head. My mother was American, they were able to get this for me fairly easily actually. The only thing that had been forged were several entry and exit stamps from immigration offices around the world. He appeared to be fairly well traveled as an American, though not excessively so. Just enough for a journalist, and he had mastered a totally bland American accent that took her totally by surprise when he tried it on her. He had picked it up easily over the years, from his mother and from living with her. He had always been able to mimic his American friends anyway, this was just a little more of the same and she looked at him now with worried eyes.

This is serious, isn't it? He nodded. They both knew it was. Can I come?

He shook his head. No, you can't.

Can I ask where you're going?

And then he made his first big mistake. To Tripoli. He was only going to tell her that much, but it was all he had to say. She instantly knew why.

My God, you're going to find out, aren't you? ' He was going to find out who the German general was. He was going to pretend he was an American journalist ' and then he would come back and report to Wavell. Charlie, you have to let me come! She looked frantic now. You'll need photographs.

His face was harsh. I'll take them myself. Audrey, you're not going anywhere.

I'll follow you if you don't take me along.

You're insane.

Who's going to know we're not both for real? It'll look even better if you have a photographer along! And a girl! No one would suspect you of anything. Come on, Charlie ' give me a break!

What is this dammit? A talent contest for Life magazine? You damn fool, you'd be risking your life if you came with me. I'm going to Port Said, and I'm taking a little fishing boat to Tripoli. We could get shot at, sunk. The Italians could decide I'm full of shit and kill me on the spot. Or the Germans more likely. Her eyes filled with tears as she listened to him and she came and clung to him now.

Don't leave me here. My whole life is with you, Charlie, it always has been ' this is my destiny ' you can't leave me now. He stood there staring down at her, hardening his heart, not wanting to listen to her, but she was so convincing as she pleaded with him.

I won't risk your neck. He sounded harsh but only because he loved her so much, but now she sounded angry as she turned to him.

That's my decision, not yours. And I made that choice myself when I decided to come here. I didn't know it would be like this. It had been a picnic for them for these months, but the picnic was suddenly over. I made a decision to follow you anywhere last July, and I meant it, Charlie Parker-Scott. And you're missing a valuable chance to do this thing right if you don't take me along now. You'll have a lot more credibility if you have a dumb girl with you, with a bunch of cameras hanging around her neck. What she said was true, but he would have taken anyone but her along.

I won't take that chance! He was shouting now, but so was she.

I will! All right? And if you don't take me, dammit, then I'll meet you there. I'll get a damn jeep and drive there myself. And suddenly he knew she would. He walked across the room and grabbed her by the arm, and shook her so hard her teeth rattled.

Be sensible, damn you. I want you to stay here.

Stubbornly she shook her head, and he sat down heavily in a chair and stared at her. I give up. But you're risking my life as well as your own, so you'd better watch your step every inch of the way.

I will ' I swear ' . She looked gratefully at him, and he smiled tiredly at her.

You drive a hell of a hard bargain, you know.

I try, sir. She smiled at him. I try.

It took them three hours to get from Cairo to Port Said by jeep, and the fishing boat that had been promised was waiting for them there. Charlie had torn the British labels out of all his clothes and he had told Audrey to bring anything that was either marked USA or was clearly American at first glance. She had worn an ancient pair of sneakers she'd brought along even though they weren't very comfortable, and she was glad that most of the clothes she had with her were old. She had a lot of sweaters she'd brought from San Francisco with her. They had all seen better days, but if someone went so far as to check, their story was more believable this way. He was an American journalist, supposedly, and she a free-lance photographer, not that the owner of the fishing boat cared. He was only interested in the money he earned getting them as far as Tripoli. They stopped at Beida, Benghazi, Al-Agheila, and Sirte on the way, and the trip took two days in the smelly little boat. They had made good time, the captain said. Audrey had to fight valiantly not to be seasick, but she didn't dare be ill for fear that Charlie would never let her live it down. She took a few photographs when she felt up to it, and they were both quiet thinking of what lay ahead of them. The reality was brought home to them as they slid quietly into port, amidst the Italian and German warships all around, and the uniforms they saw everywhere. They were on enemy turf now, with one false passport, and if either of them made a slip, they'd both be dead. The owner of the fishing boat could have given them away, but he had been working for the British for the last year, and had no desire to lose such a profitable source of income. He dropped them on the dock, and then steamed away again, back the way he had come to Port Said. They were going to have to find their own way back, and Audrey hoped it would be by land, as she followed Charlie through the teeming port. They found a man who was willing to drive them to the Hotel Minerva, where Charlie walked her into the bar, and they both ordered drinks and then rented two rooms on the same floor. They chatted quietly for a little while, not sure whether or not to bother seeing the town's few sights.

What are we supposed to do? She looked quietly up at him, grateful to be on land again.

We'll hear what we need to when it happens, I think. Everyone's going to be excited about it here. She agreed with him, but neither of them expected to hear about it as soon as they did. The German general had arrived that night they learned the next day from two Italians talking excitedly at the bar, and he was staying at a hotel, only a few blocks away. They didn't know his name, but he was one of the best, they grinned happily at Audrey and Charles. They were excited to know that they were members of the American press, and news would be released now to everyone.

The English will shake in their shoes now! they said, and Charlie smiled winningly at them, and when they left the bar after that, he glanced at Aud victoriously.

I told you we'd hear. But they still didn't know his name. They had to learn that now, as they went boldly to the hotel, and walked casually into the bar. Here everything was teeming with activity, and there were German uniforms as well as Italian ones, and an SS guard standing in the lobby talking animatedly. And they noticed Audrey almost instantly when she and Charlie arrived, and two of the men smiled hungrily at her. Charlie propelled her straight to the bar with a disinterested look, and sipped sparingly at his drink. He didn't want to get drunk now, and he advised Audrey to be cautious too, while seeming to laugh and talk easily with her.

Looks like this is where the action is, old girl. He smiled at her. It was going to be easy now, as long as no one caught on to them, and both of them could feel the sweat roll down their backs and their arms as they fought to stay calm and pretended to be as relaxed as everyone else in the bar, and an hour later as they talked about finding a place to eat, a dozen German officers suddenly walked in, and in the midst of them, a stocky, muscular intensely blue-eyed man walked into the room, observing all of them. Everything about him seemed disciplined and military and neat as he seemed to take in everyone in the room, including Audrey and Charles, with his interested eyes. It was as though he were surveying them as part of his new command, and there was no doubt that this was the man they had come here to see. There was a symphony of clicking heels, endless salutes, and even the Italians looked impressed as his aides referred to him constantly as Mein General but he did not look like a pretentious man, and Audrey said afterward that he had intelligent eyes. One could almost hear his mind clicking as he looked at all of them, and she almost wanted to salute too. She felt breathless as they looked at him, and she could hear Charlie's breath catch and hoped no one else had. And then the General walked swiftly out of the bar, and her eyes met Charlie's for a long moment, wondering if he had recognized him.

Do you know who he is? Her voice was low and Charlie slowly shook his head. There was something familiar about the man and he thought he had seen photographs of him, but he wasn't sure.

I want to ask around. I'm sure everyone knows. But as they chatted at the bar for a little while afterward, no one did, except finally a young German officer who openly laughed at them.

Americans! You must know the name of the greatest general in Germany! He took them both for fools and shook his head. All of the Germans knew his name, even if the Italians did not. General Rommel of course! Their mission was a success, and Audrey had to force herself not to squeal with delight and clap her hands as they sauntered out of the bar a little while after that. Even Charlie looked pleased with himself, and he squeezed her hand, as they hailed a cab to go back to their hotel. They could eat dinner there. And they could go back to Cairo immediately. It had been as easy as that. But Audrey wasn't satisfied with merely knowing his name.

Why don't we interview him? she suggested over dinner and Charlie looked horrified.

Are you crazy? What if they find us out?

Find out what? We're Americans. You're a journalist, I'm a photographer. All we can do is ask ' . Her eyes danced. And wouldn't that be something, Charlie? She was enjoying herself now, and his dinner sank to the pit of his stomach like a rock as he thought of it. She was clearly out of her mind.

Listen, you're getting carried away ' . But as he thought of it, he knew she was right. As long as they were there ' and perhaps they could find out something more that way ' . They talked about it over coffee, and planned it that night. They would go back to his hotel the next day, and leave a note requesting an interview with him. And then they'd wait. Audrey could feel her heart pound in her chest the next morning as they went to the hotel and dropped off the note she and Charlie had composed. They knew that the letter would go through the hands of several aides before reaching him, and it said nothing more than that they were two American journalists in Tripoli and would be honored by an interview with General Rommel.