‘Pretend?’ Sarah laughed bitterly.
He said, quietly, ‘I’m so sorry, Sarah. For everything. I . . .’
Just then there was a knock at the door. Jane came in. She looked scared. She said, ‘I’m sorry, but please, please keep your voices down. You can be heard upstairs, and in the hotel
next door, these walls are thin.’ She looked at David, her eyes wide with fear. ‘What you shouted out earlier—’
‘About being Jewish?’ David nodded fiercely. ‘Yes, that’s dangerous, isn’t it?’
‘It’s all right,’ Sarah said. ‘I’ll go up to my room.’ She looked at David. ‘Don’t come after me.’
Jane followed her out, and said, ‘Please don’t think I’m interfering, only – you’ve got to be ready to go off tonight. You can’t be arguing and fighting, not
tonight.’
Sarah realized just how frightened Jane was. Her life was at stake here, too.
In her room Sarah closed the door, sat on the bed and put her head in her hands. It had been as bad as she had feared, worse. She recognized that inside she had been hoping
against hope for some explanation from David that would somehow make everything all right again. But he had lived in a world of deception and lies, not just since becoming a spy, but long before
she’d met him. She had a feeling that even now he hadn’t told her everything. How could she ever believe him again?
F
RANK AND
B
EN HAD BEEN
playing chess again. Ben, soundly beaten, seemed determined to win at least one game but Frank had got
bored and said he needed a break. He went and looked out of the window. He saw a tall woman walk up the empty street and turn towards the hotel. Then she stopped in her tracks, staring in at the
ground-floor window. She seemed to hunch her body a little before going on to climb the front steps, passing out of view. Frank turned and said quietly, ‘Someone’s arrived. I think it
might be David’s wife.’
Ben was sitting on his bed, the chessboard on a little table. He joined Frank by the window.
‘She’s gone now,’ Frank said.
‘What was she like?’
‘Quite tall. Red-haired. Funny, not that pretty. I’d have expected David to marry someone pretty.’
‘Love disnae always go like that,’ Ben said. ‘Romance is no’ like in the films. Ye dinnae choose who ye love.’ There was a sadness in his voice. Frank thought, all
I know of love is from the films. He sat on his bed again. Ben had given him another pill on the way to the hotel, but the odd peacefulness he had felt since his encounter with Churchill was more
than that. It had been astonishing; the old man had seemed somehow to understand him. Frank was certain now that the Resistance people wouldn’t try to take his secret. But he knew the safety
of their little group here was as precarious as it had been in London. And tonight, when they tried to get on the submarine, that would be the most dangerous time of all.
Ben was looking at him curiously. ‘You all right there?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’ve been awfy quiet.’
‘What will happen to me if we get to America?’
Ben lit a cigarette. ‘They’ll ask all about what your brother told you, that’s for sure. But you won’t be telling them anything they don’t know.’
‘I wonder what they’ll do with me then.’
‘Maybe they’ll give you a job working on the atom bomb. They love their super-weapons, the Americans. Almost as bad as the Germans.’
Frank shook his head. ‘I couldn’t do that.’
‘I know. I wis just joking.’
Frank pursed his lips. ‘I don’t want to see my brother again,’ he said. ‘I hope they don’t decide to – well – put me out of the way, because of what I
know. Or put me back in a hospital.’
‘No, pal. You’ll be a hero, coming over to them, escaping the Germans. Maybe they’ll set you up in some nice, sunny, quiet wee town in California.’ But Frank knew Ben had
no more idea than he did of what the Americans would do with him.
‘I wanted to die, before, but now – I think I’d like to live, if I can. But not back in a hospital.’
‘You won’t. I know it was hard there. There won’t be such harsh conditions under communism. Hell, there’ll be nae reason for people to get mental.’
Frank didn’t reply. He had grown to like and admire Ben now he knew the risks he had run to save him, but he wished he didn’t get so misty-eyed about communism. ‘Now that
bastard Hitler’s deid,’ Ben added, ‘things’ll change. You wait . . .’
Then, through the floor, they heard shouting, a woman’s voice. Next David shouting back. ‘
No! It was because the persecutions had started and I’m Jewish!
’
Frank and Ben looked at each other in astonishment. Ben whistled. ‘That’s a turn-up for the book. David? Jewish?’ He looked at Frank. ‘Did you know?’
‘I’d no idea.’
Ben frowned. ‘They’d better stop yellin’ at each other like that, sound travels.’
But there was no more shouting, just murmuring voices. Then they heard a door shut downstairs, and footsteps mounting the stairs rapidly.
‘They’ve got to get themselves sorted out,’ Ben said anxiously. ‘We need to be on the ball tonight.’
Frank didn’t answer. An odd feeling of betrayal had stolen over him, just as it had when he had overheard David and Natalia making love in the O’Shea house. David was Jewish? All the
time he knew David, he’d had this secret, too. He told himself it was stupid; David owed him no confidences. ‘Everyone thought David’s parents were Irish,’ he said.
‘They must have had Jewish blood and kept it quiet.’ Ben sighed. ‘People fake their ancestry all over the place these days. There’s parts of Scotland now, SNP
strongholds, where if you’ve English blood you don’t talk about it.’ He made an angry, scornful sound. ‘Nationalism, what a world we’ve let it make.’
‘It’s strange. It feels – a shock. I suppose it doesn’t matter if someone is Jewish, does it?’
‘No. A lot of the best Communists have been Jews. Karl Marx himself, for example.’
‘Capitalists too,’ Frank said with a quiet smile. ‘Like the Rothschilds. And scientists, like Einstein. You know, the Nazi idea that there’s a conspiracy between the
Bolsheviks and Jewish capitalists always seemed so crazy. Each hates the other’s system.’
‘That’s because Fascist ideology never makes sense, not if you ever really stop to think about it.’
‘Nothing does make sense, much,’ Frank observed sadly.
Ben looked at him seriously. ‘You know David and Natalia were – well, you saw, when we all ran from the O’Sheas’, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Frank answered heavily, ‘I saw. Do you think David told his wife? Downstairs, just now?’
‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so, or they’d have been shouting about that, too. But we can’t have the two of them going off like fireworks all over the place. I may
have to have a word.’ He looked at Frank. ‘You’re a bit down in the mouth about it. Did ye have a bit of a fancy for Natalia yerself?’
Frank smiled sadly. ‘No. She’s very attractive, but she’s –’ he laughed awkwardly ‘– real. I’ve only ever thought about film stars, unattainable
people, in that way.’ He had reddened with embarrassment. ‘What about you? Do you like her?’
‘She’s a good leader. Clear-headed, fast. But no, she’s –’ Ben smiled wryly ‘– no’ my type.’
‘Haven’t you got someone?’ Frank asked. Ben had always seemed so focused on action, on what needed to be done next, that Frank hadn’t thought of him having a private
life.
Ben folded his arms on his chest. ‘No. Never met the right girl. Never met the right anybody.’ He gave a sad little laugh.
‘What would they be like if you did?’
‘Someone ma own class. But – nicer, gentler.’
Frank frowned. There was something odd in the way Ben had put it, but he couldn’t quite grasp what. He said, ‘I can’t imagine what being married’s like. My father died
before I was born. In the trenches.’
‘My parents are still alive, somewhere. Sod the pair o’ them.’
‘You didn’t get on?’
‘Let’s just say I wisnae what they expected.’
‘Married couples. I’ve only really met colleagues’ wives at the university. Christmas parties, things like that. Some seem happy, others you can see are miserable. You
can’t blame David’s wife for being upset. If she never knew anything. That he was a spy, or Jewish—’
‘Not our business, Frankie boy. All that matters is keepin’ everyone focused. You too.’
‘Can you not give me a pill tonight? I want to be alert. In the fog, I got – confused.’
‘You sure? You won’t get twitchy?’
‘Not if we just leave it for a few hours.’ Frank smiled weakly. ‘I’ll have one on the sub.’
Ben looked at Frank seriously. ‘Okay. But whatever happens, you stay with us this time.’
‘I will.’
Half an hour later Frank heard footsteps in the corridor outside again, then Bert’s voice and a woman’s. There was a knock at the door and Bert and Jane came in,
followed by the woman Frank had seen from the window, David’s wife. She looked tired, angry too. Bert was carrying his big map, rolled under his arm. He said, ‘We need to meet and talk
about tonight. Get all the arrangements clear.’
‘I’ll get the others.’ Jane went out. Ben stepped forward, extending a hand. ‘You must be Sarah, David’s wife,’ he said cheerfully, for once playing down the
Glasgow accent. ‘I’m Ben.’
Sarah shook his hand. Her expression was wary, her pleasant voice cool as she asked, ‘How long have you been with my husband?’
‘First met him a fortnight ago, believe it or not. Feels like years though, doesn’t it, Frank?’
Sarah looked at Frank intently. He imagined her thinking:
you’re
the one who brought all this about. Then she forced a smile and reached out her hand. ‘How do you do. My
husband used to talk about you, the letters you wrote.’ She shook his hand gently; she had noticed its deformity.
Frank said, ‘David’s been a good friend. For a long time.’
‘Please, sit down, sorry it’s all untidy,’ Ben said, all cheery politeness. ‘Two fellas sharing a room, you know what that can get like.’ He took a stray sock off
the bed. Sarah sat down. The door opened and Bert and Jane came back in, followed by David and then Natalia. David looked at his wife. She stared back angrily. She turned to Natalia, smiling
uncertainly. ‘I’m Sarah Fitzgerald,’ she said.
‘Natalia.’ The two women shook hands, Natalia looking at Sarah coolly. Frank realized Sarah didn’t know about her and David; he hadn’t told her. Bert spread the map on
the other bed.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Tonight at ten thirty, Natalia will drive you all over to Rottingdean. There’s the coast road, here on the map, but we think it’s safer for you
to drive north into the country and then come down into Rottingdean from there.’ He pointed at the map. ‘All clear so far?’ Everyone nodded. Bert continued. ‘There’s a
path that leads under the cliffs from Brighton, too, but that’s exposed, no cover at all if anything goes wrong. When you get to Rottingdean you go to a house in the village where our man
will meet you. You’ll all change into dark clothes, so you won’t be seen so easily, and then walk down to the cove. They’ll be thick clothes, it’ll be very cold out at
sea.’
‘It looks like a small place,’ Sarah said, looking at the map.
‘It is. There’s a lot of posh houses up round the green, mostly retired people. Rottingdean’s always had a lot of writers and artists, people like that. Then along the High
Street there’s shops, smaller houses. That’s where our man lives, he’s a retired fisherman. It’s a quiet place, nobody will be about on a cold December night. Then you make
your way down to the cove.’ He looked round the little group. ‘From that point on, you’re all at risk, there’d be no cover story to explain a group of people going down to
the beach at night in December.’
Sarah shook her head slightly. David asked, ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. I was just thinking how many identities I’ve had the last few days, how many sets of clothes.’ She looked at Bert. ‘You people have a lot of resources,
don’t you? More than I’d ever thought.’
‘None of it has been easy,’ Natalia said, coldly. ‘I can promise you that. Everyone involved has exposed themselves to danger.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘People
have died.’
Sarah met her gaze, ‘I know. I’ve seen two people killed in front of me in less than a fortnight.’
Natalia nodded at Frank. ‘Getting this man away is very important indeed. That’s what matters tonight, the rest of us are just passengers. It’s as well to be clear about
that.’
Sarah stared back. ‘I understand very well. I know what danger is, I’ve learned that very fast. I’m not a fool, so please don’t take me for one. Just tell me what to
do.’
Natalia inclined her head, a new respect in her look.
Bert said quietly, ‘Natalia is the leader, you all do as she says. So far as we know, we’re safe. We’ve had people watching the cliffs, the village, the coastal path and out to
sea. Nothing unusual has been happening. When it gets dark we’ll still have a few people on surveillance, from the cliffs. In case any unexpected boats appear.’
Ben said, ‘It’s important for everyone tae move quickly and quietly.’ He looked at Frank.
‘Yes,’ Bert agreed. ‘The place will be asleep, you mustn’t wake anyone up. It’s going to be a quiet, clear night, there’ll be a half-moon. The sea’s
like a millpond. Our man who’ll take you to the cove has got a rowing boat and he’ll start to row you out to the sub at twelve thirty. We’ve got precise coordinates, a spot about
a mile out. Because the water’s shallow inshore the sub will be on the surface. It’ll take you on board. After that they’ll go out to deeper water, dive, and take you to an
American ship out in the Atlantic.’
‘And then it’ll all be over,’ Frank said. He shook his head in wonder and disbelief.
Bert looked at him, then Sarah. Frank thought, we two are the weak ones. The others know how to fight.
Bert continued, ‘We have to think about what happens if things go wrong. Natalia, you, Ben and David will have guns.’
‘They should only be used as a last resort,’ Natalia said. ‘Because of the noise.’
Ben nodded agreement. ‘Aye. If we’re attacked.’ He looked at Bert. ‘But whit if someone comes on us by accident, some wandering drunk or somethin’?’