Go In and Sink! (33 page)

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Authors: Douglas Reeman

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‘How are the others?’ She turned towards him. ‘That nice sailor. From London.’

‘Churchill?’ He forced a smile. ‘Still complaining. He misses having you to look after. I think the officers will suffer from now on.’

She nodded slowly. ‘It all seems a long time ago.’

Marshall thought of the doctor’s warning and then said quickly, ‘I wish I could take you out of here. Right now.’

The sun-glasses caught and held the filtered sunlight, and for a moment she remained quite still.

‘But it is impossible.’ Her shoulders made a small shrug. ‘And where would you take me?’

Marshall watched her as she turned again to look at the window.

‘Somewhere away from here. Where you could be free of war.’ He did not know if she was listening. ‘We could look at the pyramids at Giza. Have dinner by the Nile. You could ride on a camel if you wanted to. Be like tourists.’

He leaned forward and laid his hand on hers.

‘It might help.…’

She pulled her hand away and thrust it under the sheet.

‘It is only a dream.’ She seemed drowsy and he wondered if she was under some sort of drug. ‘Pyramids.’

He tried again. ‘Yes. By moonlight.’

Her head came round again. ‘You have been there before? With one of your girl-friends perhaps?’ Her French accent was more pronounced.

He shook his head. ‘Actually, I’ve never seen them.’ It sounded like an admission of defeat.

Outside the room he could hear voices, the slap of feet in the corridor.

She said, ‘The usual inspections.’ She gave a long shudder ‘Touching me.’

He said, ‘They’re only trying to help, Chantal.’ He started. He had used her name without knowing it.

‘You have
never
seen the pyramids?’

She moved under the sheet, using her elbow so that she could turn more towards him.

He grimaced. ‘Only in the films.’

Fascinated he watched her hand emerge again from the sheet. It hesitated, very small, like an animal coming from its hiding place.

She whispered, ‘But they would never allow it.’ Her hand lay beside his. ‘Regulations.’

‘Maybe.’ Marshall watched her hand. The wedding ring had gone. ‘But I could try. I know I’m not much in the way of company, but——’

She fastened her fingers on his hand, gripping it hard.

‘Do not say that! You are a fine person. When I think how I once treated you. What you did for me, how we——’ Two tears ran unheeded from beneath the sun-glasses and she said, ‘No, it is all right! Do not get distressed. I find I cry a lot here.’

She did not draw back as he dabbed her cheeks with his handkerchief.

He said, ‘I’ll speak with the doctor.’ He stood up very slowly. Unwilling to lose the precious contact.

‘You promise?’ Her lip quivered. ‘You called me by my name just then.’

‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘It’s a beautiful name.’

‘And you are Steven.’ She frowned. ‘Ste-ven.’ Then she nodded. ‘Nice.’

The door opened and the sister called, ‘Time’s up, I’m afraid. How are we doing, eh?’

Marshall took the girl’s hand in his and turned to face the sister. ‘
We
are doing fine, thank you.’

He added, ‘I’ll be back.’

The sister was still staring after him when he reached the doctor’s office.

He listened in silence to Marshall’s hurried explanation and request. Then he said, ‘How long have you got?’

‘I’m not certain. A few days.’

‘It might work. I don’t see there’s too much against it. Unless.…’

‘Unless what?’

‘If you try to force a recovery she might crack up completely. Any sort of real human contact is like opening a door on hell at the moment. You saw what they were doing to her? You, better than most, should know. It’s a risk. But a worthwhile one.’ He held out his hand. ‘Fix it your end. Leave the rest to us.’

Marshall opened the door, his thoughts in a whirl.

‘I’m sure I’m right, Doctor. She needs a complete break.’

The doctor waited until the door had closed and then reached for a telephone. She’s not the only one, he thought
wearily
. But the sailor could be right. They might help each other.

He made his phone call and then walked to the window. The man was still beside his jar of flowers. Only his shadow had moved.

14 Something worthwhile

CAPTAIN BROWNING DABBED
the back of his neck with a handkerchief. ‘Bloody hot.’ He gestured vaguely across the litter of folios and signal clips. ‘Much more of this and I think my head’ll burst!’

Marshall sat opposite him, thinking of his visit to the remote hospital. Yesterday. He had spoken to Browning about his idea immediately on his return, but the captain obviously had a lot on his mind. It might not seem so important to him.

Browning added, ‘I’m just waiting to tie up a few loose ends. After that, I’ll expect you to give me a ride.’ He grinned. ‘A meeting has been arranged. It sounds more like a gathering of city stockholders.’ He became serious again. ‘But this could be hugely important. A definite arrangement within the enemy’s camp, so to speak, would save countless lives. And time.’

Marshall nodded. He had been out to the depot ship, and had been surprised to find that most of his company appeared quite cheerful in their enforced isolation. Time to get things in their right perspective perhaps.

He had found Gerrard in a cabin, writing letters.

‘I thought you were going ashore, Bob?’ He had not expected Gerrard to remain in the depot ship when the maintenance party and all the facilities of the big vessel were at the U-boat’s disposal.

Gerrard had replied, ‘Just got a letter from Valerie.’ He
had
sounded worried. ‘She’s expecting a baby.’

‘That’s good news, surely?’

‘She seems pleased.’ Gerrard had stared at an unfinished letter. ‘It’s what we wanted, of course.’

‘I wish you luck. After this next job is finished, it sounds as if we will be paid off. That’s unofficial, of course, so keep it under your hat.’

But it had made no difference.

‘D’you think it will be worse than the last one?’

‘For God’s sake, Bob, you were the one who was telling
me
to take things easy. Don’t tell me you’ve got the shakes now?’ He had expected a quick retort, or some well-worn joke. It had always been like that before.

Gerrard had said, ‘I nearly went under on our last job. The others haven’t said anything, but they must be wondering. Scared I’ll drop them right in it if we have another dicey mission.’

So it was that bad. Marshall had sat down beside him and had asked, ‘Do you want me to ask for a relief, Bob? I’d not blame you. It was because of me that you got roped in in the first place. You’ve earned a break, and a lot more besides.’ He had tried to get under Gerrard’s guard. ‘Now with, Valerie having a baby, I can understand how you feel.’

‘No. If it’s only one more job, I’ll make it. Anyway, I’d never live with myself if I broke up the team now.’

Marshall dragged his thoughts from Gerrard’s unspoken anxieties as Browning said, ‘I can get you four days. If that’s what you want?’

Marshall stared at him. ‘Four days, sir?’

Browning beamed. ‘I can
see
you want them!’ He gestured to the window. ‘Doctor Williams, the chap you met at the hospital, has fixed it from his end. He’s got
a
house of some sort in Cairo. I was just speaking to him on the blower. He started off with Mrs. Travis about an hour ago.’ He grinned. ‘I’d not let the
Department
take too much of the glory, so
I’ve
laid on transport for you.’

‘I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m not even sure it will help her.’

‘Can but try.’ Browning creaked from his chair and walked round the desk. ‘It might help
you
, too.’

‘Then if you don’t need me any more …’

Browning propelled him to the door. ‘I’ve wangled the Chief of Staff’s driver for you. If he gets a move on, you’ll be in Cairo before dusk.’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘Four days. Less if things go wrong. So make the most of ’em!’

Within half an hour Marshall had found his car and threw his small grip into the rear seat.

The driver said, ‘Ready, sir?’ He gestured to a covered flagstaff on the bonnet. ‘Covered or not, sir, the wogs’ll get out of our way when they see it. They’ll think it’s some top brass coming through.’ He chuckled and edged the car into the busy roadway. ‘So hold tight, sir!’

Marshall sat back in the seat, watching the panorama of jostling figures and little carts sweeping past on either side. What the Chief of Staff would say if they wrote off his car, and how Browning would explain it, seemed totally unimportant.

It was a small but very pleasant looking house on the outskirts of Cairo, and close enough to the Nile to see the crowded masts and furled sails of some local craft. Deep shadows painted one side of the house, and it was
peaceful
. Marshall stood beside the car and stared at it. Timeless. Like the moored boats, the hint of desert beyond.

The driver smiled. ‘I’m off the to N.A.A.F.I., sir. I reckon Captain Browning will fix other transport for the return trip.’ He patted the wheel. ‘My guv’nor might not like us to make a habit of it!’

Marshall watched him drive away and then turned towards the house. The birdlike doctor called Williams came down some steps to greet him.

‘Here, let my houseboy take your bag. He’ll get a bath ready. You’ve been damned fast.’ Without his white coat and formal surroundings he looked more like a respectable solicitor’s clerk than one whose work it was to repair shattered minds. ‘But first, a drink.’ He led the way to a cool, book-lined room. ‘Gin suit you?’

Marshall sat down in a cane chair, feeling strangely relaxed. Like the times when he had been committed to action. No sense in detours or hesitations.

Williams smiled. ‘Cheers. Fact is. I want to put you in the picture, as you naval chaps say. She’s upstairs, by the way. With Megan, my wife. Nice here, isn’t it? I’ll hate to part with it when I get posted back to the U.K.’

He seemed to be assembling his thoughts, gauging Marshall’s ability to understand.

‘Chantal met her husband in England just before the war. She was a student, and he was doing something or other at the university. He’s a first-rate engineer.’ He looked away. ‘I can imagine he would seem very attractive to any girl. Anyway, they got married and went straight to France. He was working there when the collapse came. Dunkirk, fall of Paris, all the rest of it.’ He looked hard at Marshall. ‘Chantal had by that time gone home to Nantes, to her family.’

Marshall stated. ‘Left him?’

‘Yes. She had discovered he was not the man she thought he was. I don’t know how deeply his beliefs went, but he acted like a dyed-in-the-wool Nazi. The German military authorities were suspicious of course, but damn glad to get him all the same. When our armies eventually invade Northern Europe, some of them will have to fight their way through heavy defences designed and built by
friend
Travis.’

‘I see.’ Marshall asked quietly, ‘Then why did she go back to him in Paris?’

‘Partly because she was afraid for her father. He is a Resistance chief in Nantes. A good man. I think she thought Travis would get at her through the father. Shop him to the Germans.’ He sighed. ‘She started to work for the Department herself when Travis betrayed ten Frenchmen to the Gestapo. He had found out something about them. I am not sure what. I am not even certain they were proper Resistance workers. But the result was the same. They were tortured by the Gestapo, and the lucky ones were shot. From that moment Chantal was determined to find out what she could. Warn the Resistance, or inform them if any chance of sabotage was likely. Travis moved from one important site to another. After he betrayed the Frenchmen, he was trusted. He had proved his
loyalty
.’

‘Thank you for telling me.’

‘The rest you know. She was smuggled to England when the Gestapo were almost on her neck. Travis thought she was visiting her parents and never knew a thing about it. So when the Department got news of these new radio-controlled bombs, and that Travis was in charge of the construction work in Italy, she stood out as an obvious choice for making contact. A terrible risk to her, of course.
But
the faceless men at the top would place far more value on the information required and the lives it might preserve.’

Marshall looked at his hands. They were quite relaxed, but felt as if they were shaking.

But for the girl being a passenger aboard his submarine, he would never have known about her, what she was doing, or that she even mattered. She would have died horribly, either on that table, or in some other hideous place of torture. Now, looking back, it seemed almost too incredible that their chance of meeting had been so small.

‘Ah, I hear them coming.’ Williams stood up. ‘Don’t forget, just be yourself. But be careful. Any sort of forced contact, and she might turn away forever.’

The two women entered the room, and Marshall caught his breath. The girl was in a plain white dress which left her arms bare and made her skin seem gold by comparison. Her short dark hair was partly covered by a red scarf, and she was wearing the same sun-glasses.

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