Dominion

Chapter Thirty-Nine

THEY LEFT ON THE MORNING OF Friday, the fifth of December. The weather was still cold and frosty; it felt strange to Frank to be out in the open air again. The car they had arrived in was brought out of the garage; the previous evening Geoff and Colonel Brock had fixed on new number plates. David was to drive, Natalia sitting beside him in the front passenger seat, a map on her knees. Colonel Brock and his wife came out to see them off. Frank was about get into the car, Ben’s hand on his arm, when the colonel unexpectedly leaned forward and shook his hand, very gently. ‘Good luck, old chap,’ he said awkwardly.

A weak sun was starting to melt the frost covering the trees and hedgerows. Geoff had told Frank they planned to take quiet country roads for the first part of the journey, then join the motorway near Northampton. Frank stared out of the window at the empty countryside. He found himself thinking about what had happened to the Jews. He wasn’t surprised by what the government had done; he’d always known those in charge were capable of anything now. He remembered there had been a Jewish boy at Strangmans, Golding. There was actually less anti-Semitism at the Presbyterian school than in other places Frank had been; their religious prejudices were directed at Catholics, not Jews. All the same Golding had stood out as different, not attending assembly or religious knowledge classes, but otherwise he had always conformed, been good in class and always part of a crowd of boys. He had sometimes shouted ‘Monkey!’ and ‘Spastic!’ after Frank like the others. Frank had asked himself how Golding, an outsider, had been able to belong while he couldn’t. What was it about him? They had gone for him since the first day; it had been like a snowball that rolled on, getting bigger and bigger, nothing and no-one to stop it. Well, he thought with heavy desperation, it doesn’t matter now.

Following the circuitous route Natalia had traced on the map they passed through a village called Sawley and then came to a fork in the road. To his horror Frank saw a Black Maria turned sideways to block the entrance of the right-hand turning, the one they were going to take. Two young Auxiliaries in heavy blue greatcoats, rifles slung over their shoulders, stood blocking it, stamping their boots in the cold. Frank felt everyone in the car tense.

David turned the wheel to take the left-hand turning, but one of the Auxies waved them to stop. He approached the car, slouching across the road, the barrel of his rifle gleaming in the winter sun. David slowly wound down the window and the Auxie leaned in, nodding to him. He didn’t examine their faces closely, he didn’t seem that interested. His chubby face was red with cold.

‘Where are you headed for, sir?’

‘Northampton,’ David answered, emphasizing the upper-class drawl in his voice. ‘We’ve come from Sawley. Is there a problem, Constable?’

‘No, sir, only this road’s shut off now. We’re guarding the new residential camp for the Birmingham Jews.’

Frank stared up the closed-off road. It was fringed by trees, their bare branches a skeletal latticework, brown ploughed fields on either side. In the distance he thought he made out a row of high poles, what might have been wire strung between them.

‘Is it?’ Something in David’s tone made the policeman look at him sharply.

Ben leaned forward. ‘Sae long as we get the Yids out of the towns, eh?’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s all right, we can take the longer route.’ The constable looked at David again, then nodded and stepped away. David steered the car left and they drove in silence till they had crested a hill.

Geoff let out a long breath. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry,’ David said. ‘I couldn’t help my tone.’

‘You need tae be able to act in this job, pal,’ Ben spat angrily. ‘Our fucking lives could depend on it.’

That policemen could have asked for our papers, Frank thought, taken us back to his post, and then – ‘I need to wee, I’m desperate,’ he said. ‘Can we stop?’

‘How desperate?’ Ben asked. ‘Can’t you wait a bit? When we find a cafe or somethin’ ye can go to the cludgie there.’

‘I need to go now. I’m sorry, please—’

‘We should get on,’ Ben replied. ‘I want to get as far away from thae Auxies as possible.’

‘If Frank needs to go, he needs to go,’ Geoff answered irritably. He leaned over and spoke in a whisper to David. Frank caught his words. ‘What if he pisses himself? The car’ll stink.’

They turned down another lane, high laurel hedges beside the road. David stopped the car beside a little gap, just big enough for someone to squeeze through. Ben got out and held the door open for Frank. It was strange to be out in the empty, undulating countryside. It made his head swim after his weeks confined in the hospital. He was glad of the winter coat they had given him before they left the house. He really did need to urinate but he was also thinking, this was a chance to get away. The effects of his morning pill were wearing off, he thought he would be able to run. There was a brown ploughed field beyond the hedge, the furrows still white with frost, and what looked like a thick wood beyond. He would head there, if he could get in among the trees all he needed was to find one with a large branch, then use his belt . . .

‘Come on, Frank, wake up,’ Ben said, not unkindly. He pointed at the gap in the hedge. ‘We can just aboot squeeze through there.’

‘I can go on my own.’

Ben hesitated. Natalia had wound her window down. She said with unexpected sharpness, ‘Let him go. Stop treating him like a child.’

Ben frowned, and Frank wondered if he was going to argue. He started walking across the verge, frosty grass crunching under his feet, and bent to get through the gap. Ben didn’t follow. Little thorny twigs clutched at his clothing, making him wince.

On the other side of the hedge Frank quickly opened his coat, unzipped his flies, and urinated copiously onto the ploughed earth. As he did so he looked round quickly, heart thudding fast. He took a deep breath. Then he began running, fast as he could, across the field.

It was much more difficult than he had thought. The frost had made the ground hard but he had to jump from ridge to ridge, earth cracking and flaking under his shoes. He hadn’t run for a long time and his legs began shaking; there was a pounding in his ears.

Then he felt something irresistibly strong clutch his legs and he tumbled over, face forward, his chest landing on top of a ploughed ridge. He lay there winded, gasping for breath. Hands grabbed his shoulder, pulling him roughly round. David was kneeling over him, his own face red with effort. ‘For God’s sake, Frank,’ he shouted. ‘What in hell d’you think you’re doing?’

Frank sat up, wheezing. Geoff and Ben and Natalia had got through the hedge and were running towards him. David raised his hand and they halted a little way off, standing like scarecrows in the empty field. He shouted angrily, ‘Why did you run away from us, Frank? Why?’ His voice, echoing across the fields, startled some crows at the edge of the wood. They rose into the air, cawing.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t you trust us?’

Frank looked into David’s eyes. ‘It’s not that. I just don’t think you can do it,’ he said. ‘I’m frightened they’ll catch us, they’ll get what I know out of me.’

‘Did you think you could get away on your own?’ David asked furiously. ‘Where the hell would you go?’ He grasped Frank’s shoulder and shook him roughly. ‘Where were you planning to run? If you’ve got someone who might help you round here, Frank, you’ve got to tell us about it. We’re risking our lives to get you out.’

Frank looked into the woods again. The crows had circled and were settling back in the trees. ‘There’s nobody, David,’ he said quietly. ‘I was going to kill myself. That’s what I’ve got to do. It’s the only way I can be sure they don’t win. Can’t you see that?’

David knelt beside him. ‘You shouldn’t hold your life so cheap, Frank.’

‘You don’t know what it is that I know. I’m so tired, David.’ He whispered, ‘It’s the Bomb. Edgar was working on the atom bomb, and he told me something about how they built it. If the Germans find out it would let them build atomic weapons, too.’

David stared at him, open-mouthed. ‘For God’s sake,’ he breathed. ‘Don’t tell me any more. Not another word.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier if you just killed me? Wouldn’t it be safer? I haven’t spoken to anybody else about what Edgar told me, nobody.’

‘You really mean this, don’t you?’

Frank nodded slowly.

David said, ‘You know that if it comes to it, we won’t let them take any of us alive.’ He sighed. ‘There’s no turning back. We all depend on each other now, we have to trust each other. We’ve got a good chance if we stick together and keep our heads. There’s a whole network of people helping us, Frank. Please promise me you won’t do anything like that again. If you try it again you could risk everyone’s lives.’

He hesitated, looking into David’s eyes, then nodded.

David helped him up. They began trudging back to join the others. David held his arm. ‘You always hated the Nazis, didn’t you?’ Frank said.

‘So did you.’

‘That’s why I’d die rather than help them.’

‘Better to confound them and live,’ David answered fiercely.

Frank said, ‘All those years ago, at university, I must’ve been a bloody nuisance, hanging round you and Geoff.’

‘You were our friend.’

‘All I ever wanted was to be ordinary, to blend in. But I can’t.’

David smiled wryly. ‘It’s been the same for me. Always.’ He laughed. ‘Even more so now, after what you just told me.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Frank whispered. ‘Don’t tell the others—’

David looked at him. ‘All right, I won’t. But you’ve got to stay alive for all our sakes, Frank.’

David got him back in the car, then stood outside for a few minutes talking with the others. Frank wondered if they might be angry with him now, especially the woman, but she caught him staring at her and smiled. Frank thought, she understands.

As they started off again, Ben said, ‘You’ve had a hard time, Frank, I know that. You did bloody well holding out against the police in the asylum. But you’re with us now, and we’ll see ye through. We will. Ye’ve got tae see that.’

‘All right,’ Frank replied. He was too weary to say anything else. They continued on through the countryside, then onto the Great North Road, now driving fast. They’re all willing to die to get me out, Frank thought. Though he was still full of dread about what might happen, he felt a rush of warmth towards his companions.

Around one o’clock, after Geoff had passed round some sandwiches the colonel’s wife had prepared, and Ben had given him another pill, Frank dozed off, dimly aware of the steady hum of the wheels beneath him.

He woke up at the sound of voices. It was getting dark.

‘That’s the second train we’ve seen stopped on the line,’ Ben was saying.

‘Maybe there’s a problem with the signals or something,’ Geoff said. ‘It always seems to happen on a Friday evening,’ he added lightly, as though they were ordinary people off for a weekend drive. Frank looked out of the window. On an embankment beside the motorway, he could see a stationary train and, through its lighted, steamed-up windows, passengers in their hats and coats. ‘Where are we?’

‘Another twenty miles to London.’ Natalia smiled at him as she turned to answer.

They drove on. Frank dozed again. He was woken by the car slowing down. He became conscious of a strange, unpleasant, sulphurous smell. He sat up. It was dark outside. They were in a long queue of traffic, moving very slowly. He realized he couldn’t see any lights from streetlamps or houses, and looking ahead he saw a thick, greasy, swirling vapour in the beam of the headlights. Fog, as thick as he had ever seen it.

He sat up. ‘What’s happening?’

‘We’re stuck,’ David answered. ‘That’s the last bloody thing we need tonight. It started half an hour ago and it’s getting thicker the closer we get to town.’

Geoff whistled. ‘This is some bloody fog,’ he said.