Dominion

Chapter Forty-Nine

AFTER PASSING THROUGH the roadblock the fire engine continued racing dangerously fast down the road, sirens blaring. At one point the driver sounded the horn and a man in a white facemask crossing the road jumped wildly out of the way, his leaping figure momentarily visible in the headlights. Then, so suddenly that David was thrown violently sideways, the powerful machine juddered to a halt. He and the others stood, a little shakily, and looked over the side. The headlights were still on and though they barely penetrated the fog David was able to see that they had stopped in front of a large stationary truck, its canvas-covered back facing them. An army truck, he thought with horror. Beside him the young man who had rescued them threw off his helmet. ‘Go on,’ he said cheerfully, ‘get down. Your new transport’s waiting.’

‘But it’s army . . .’

He laughed. ‘We stole that, too. Now, come on. It won’t take the police long to realize this engine was on a fake call.’

David climbed down into the street, Ben and Natalia and their young rescuer following. The three firemen who had been in the cab stepped out too. David looked round; they were in a cobbled street, lock-up garages on either side. He saw a man in military uniform standing beside the army truck, tall and burly.

‘Who’s that?’ David asked the young fireman.

‘Don’t know, mate. We were just told to bring you here.’ He clapped the side of the truck. ‘Good old Merryweather engine, never lets you down.’ He brought out a packet of cigarettes and passed them round. David took one gratefully.

The military man came over, looming out of the fog. He was in his fifties, with a lined face, black moustache and severe, hard eyes. He wore the uniform of a captain. He looked them over.

‘Are you a real soldier?’ Ben asked.

‘Yes,’ the captain answered brusquely. ‘I’m with Churchill now. Right. All of you in the back of the truck. We need to get you out of here.’ He turned and barked, ‘Fowler, open up!’ The canvas back was pulled aside and a stringy little man in a private’s uniform jumped down, lowered the tailgate and waved them up impatiently. David saw he was carrying a rifle.

David shook the hand of the young fireman. ‘Thank you.’ He looked at the rest of the crew. ‘Thank you all.’ They raised their hands in acknowledgement.

‘Come on,’ the captain said impatiently. ‘We haven’t much time.’

They all climbed in. The truck smelt of sweat and machine oil. The private shone a torch into the back, showing a double row of benches. Another man in private’s uniform sat at the far end, with a rifle across his knees. Next to him was a civilian in a dark jacket, hunched over. David’s heart jumped when he saw it was Frank. Frank’s face lit up and he cried out, ‘It’s true! You’re alive!’

‘No thanks to you,’ the stringy man said grumpily in a Cockney accent. He waved his arm to indicate that David and Ben and Natalia should sit down on the benches. He closed the canvas flap, and the soldier next to Frank leaned over and banged on the back of the cab. There was a little window, giving a view into the front. The driver, another man in military uniform, was already sitting there; the captain got in beside him. The truck started and began moving slowly down the street.

The stringy private played the torch across their faces. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘We’ll get into one of the sidestreets and then you’re all going to change into uniform. We’re going to be a group of soldiers travelling to guard duty at the Jew camp in Dover.’ He turned the beam on Natalia. ‘Except you, miss, they’ll not take you for a soldier if we’re stopped, you’re going to be dropped off and debriefed about today. You’ll rendezvous with the others later.’

‘Where?’ Ben asked.

‘You’ll find out when we get there,’ the soldier next to Frank answered quietly, in a Yorkshire accent. ‘Can’t really say anything more.’ He was a big man, with a wrestler’s build, but his manner was friendlier than his comrade’s.

‘Who are you all?’ David asked. ‘The man in front’s got a captain’s tabs.’

‘Used to be a regular soldier until Churchill left Parliament,’ the Yorkshireman answered. ‘Decided to help him “set Britain ablaze”. Remember that speech?’

‘And you two?’

‘We’re soldiers of the Resistance,’ the Cockney answered, ‘not forces of the Fascist state. We steal army uniforms as well as trucks. Two of the men who brought you here were real firemen, though. That’s their jobs finished, because of this,’ he added reproachfully. ‘They’re on the run now.’

‘So am I, pal,’ Ben said, an edge to his voice. ‘I had a safe job nursing in a loony bin for years till last week. That’s the price of servin’ the cause, eh?’

‘We’re all in it together,’ the Yorkshireman said gently.

The truck halted. They had only travelled a few streets. The thin Cockney shone his torch under the seats; David saw a number of canvas bags there. ‘Right,’ the Cockney said briskly, ‘everybody take a bag, get out and get changed.’

‘I want tae know where we’re going,’ Ben said stubbornly.

The Cockney shone the torch full in his face. ‘Listen, Jock. We lost good people tonight in London, thanks to you lot. So do as you’re fucking told. Now out, all of you.’

They were in a narrow street beside what looked like a small factory. A man was waiting there, a thin man in a bowler hat and a long coat; he looked like a rent collector. He went over to the captain, who had stepped out of the cab, and exchanged a few whispered words. Then he came over to Natalia. ‘You’re to come with me please, miss.’

Natalia glanced at David. She said to the man, ‘Can you give us a few moments?’

He nodded reluctantly. ‘All right. But just a minute.’ David and Natalia stepped away from the others. He said, ‘We – I’m sorry that—’

She smiled. ‘I’m not. How could I be? We’ll meet again soon.’ David looked at the group of soldiers, a dim huddle in the fog. Frank and Ben were changing into army uniform. ‘Will we?’

‘Yes. I’ll see you soon.’ She hesitated. ‘Though from what Eileen said your wife will be joining us.’

David took her hand. ‘Do you know, that was the first time I’ve ever been unfaithful to her?’

Natalia took a deep breath. ‘Then perhaps you were right, and it is over between you?’ She looked uncertain.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The captain came over. ‘You have to leave now, miss,’ he said sternly. ‘And you –’ he gave David a look of disapproval – ‘you have to change into uniform. Now.’

Natalia leaned up and kissed David quickly. ‘Till later,’ she said with a sad smile. She touched his hand briefly, then went over to the man who had come for her. Without another word the two walked away, their shapes instantly swallowed up in the fog.

‘Come on,’ Ben called impatiently. David wondered what the Scotsman thought of him and Natalia; he hadn’t given any sign. Geoff might have disapproved, but Geoff was dead.

They changed quickly into thick, itchy army uniforms. They were all privates now. The uniform felt familiar to David, took him back to 1940. He adjusted his cap and felt in his pocket for the cyanide capsule he had transferred there. They climbed into the back of the truck again and it set off once more, rumbling slowly through the empty streets. Through the window into the cab David looked past the heads of the driver and the captain, outlined against the weak beams of the headlights. The road ahead was full of swirling fog.

‘How are you doing, old friend?’ he asked Frank quietly. He was sitting next to him; he seemed in a daze.

‘All right, I suppose. It’s strange wearing this uniform.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry I ran, David, I broke my promise. But I thought we were going to be captured and I was the only one who didn’t have – you know, a pill.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘A church. The police were coming. This vicar found me. He helped me, got me to the Resistance people, gave me his jacket.’ He was silent again, then he said, ‘I keep thinking about Geoff.’

‘I know. He was a brave friend.’ He glanced at Ben, sitting on his other side. He was frowning.

‘You all right?’ David asked quietly.

‘I just wonder what they’re goin’ tae dae with us,’ Ben whispered. He looked at the Yorkshireman, then asked, ‘Where are we goin’ now?’

‘Out of town, that’s all I know.’

They passed through a busy area, the truck slowing to a crawl, inching along in the fog. Then they speeded up again for a while. Outside the fog seemed to be lifting a little. Then David heard the captain say from the cab, in a tense tone, ‘Here we go.’ Looking into the cab David saw a roadblock ahead, a wooden barrier across the road. The Cockney got up and pushed David aside to watch through the glass panel as the truck pulled to a halt. The Yorkshireman leaned across and tapped Frank on the knee.

‘We’re being stopped. But the captain will get us through okay.’ He spoke as though to a backward child. ‘You just keep quiet. All right?’

David whispered to Ben, ‘I suppose Frank’s pills are back at the O’Sheas’?’

‘The Largactil? Yes.’ A policeman appeared then, shining a torch into the cab. The captain wound the window down. ‘Evening, officer,’ he said confidently. The policeman saluted.

‘Where are you going, sir?’ he asked. His tone was respectfully polite but there was something worried, David thought, about his look.

‘Taking some men to the Jew camp at Dover. Guard duty. I’m going to be assisting the Commander.’ He handed a document to the policeman, who studied it by the light of his torch. ‘Having trouble with the Yids?’ he asked apprehensively.

‘No. Why should we be? But the camps need guards. Why the roadblock?’

‘Escaped terrorists. Three men and a woman, all in their thirties. They got away from a raid at New Cross. The Branch is pulling all the stops out on this one for some reason.’

‘Locking the stable door after the horse has bolted, eh?’

‘That’s about the size of it, sir,’ the policeman answered heavily.

‘We haven’t seen anybody. Though it’s hard to see your own hand in this fog.’

‘I know. Never seen anything like it. Strange night for – what’s happened in Germany.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Hitler’s dead. It’s official.’

The men in the back of the cab looked at each other, their faces suddenly bright. Frank said, ‘Did he say—’ The Yorkshireman leaned forward and put a hand over his mouth. ‘Shhhh.’

‘Are you sure?’ David heard the captain ask.

‘They’re saying at the police station that it’s true.’

‘Good God,’ the captain said. ‘What’ll happen now?’

‘Who knows?’ the policeman answered. ‘I hope the Jews don’t hear, that’s why I wondered if there might be trouble at the detention camps. Anyway, we’ve got to check all vehicles going out of London. Mind if I just have a look in the back?’

‘Be my guest.’ The captain leaned back and called out, ‘Open up!’

The Cockney private opened the canvas flaps. The policeman leaned in and shone his torch over the men, and under the benches. Ben said in a joking voice, ‘Wisnae anything to do with me, Constable, that missing crate of Spam in Aldershot!’ The others laughed. The policeman grunted and closed the flap. He waved them on, saluting the captain again as they passed. Everybody let out their breath and relaxed, except Frank, who sat staring rigidly ahead.

The captain slid open the glass partition. His face was animated now, excited. ‘You chaps hear that? They’re saying Hitler’s dead!’

‘That bastard, gone at last,’ the Yorkshireman said feelingly.

They weren’t stopped again, and they drove slowly but steadily on. David thought they were heading east rather than south but he wasn’t sure. He wondered where Natalia was, whether he would see her again. And Sarah. Was it over with Sarah? He still didn’t know.

The fog thinned further, eventually vanishing to leave the starry darkness of a December night. Twisting his head to look into the cab, David saw they were travelling along country roads now, the skeletal shapes of trees appearing and vanishing again, ghostly white in the headlights. He thought, we’re not going to the coast, we’d have been there by now. He glanced at Ben, who sat looking ahead of him, frowning. The roads became worse, the truck banging and clattering over them. As the journey continued, heads began to nod despite the jolting. David leaned across and whispered to Ben, ‘Frank’s asleep. He wasn’t looking too good earlier.’

‘He needs another dose. But I had to leave all his stuff at the O’Sheas’. Where the hell are they taking us?’

‘Why are you so worried?’ David whispered.

‘I want tae know where we’re going. Why won’t they tell us? There’s something in their attitude – I don’t like it.’

‘They’ve lost people tonight.’

‘So have we.’

David sat back. After a while his eyes closed from sheer weariness. He woke with a jolt as the truck came to a halt. The captain opened the cab window. ‘Everyone out!’ he called.

They all climbed down. David helped Frank, who was shaking. They stepped into pitch darkness, onto what felt like a gravelled driveway, tall trees on either side just visible as shapes outlined against the sky. It was very cold; there was a smell of wet, freezing air. No lights were visible anywhere.

‘David,’ Frank whispered urgently. ‘Where are we?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘No talking,’ the captain snapped. ‘Follow me.’ The three soldiers had surrounded them, their rifles held at the ready. Beside David, Ben took a deep breath. The thought flashed through David’s head: they’re going to shoot us. We’ve caused them so many problems they’ve decided to get rid of us, somewhere quiet out in the country. Or perhaps they’ll keep Frank alive, interrogate him, find his secret. If Hitler’s dead everybody’s calculations will change. He looked at the dim outline of the captain, marching steadily ahead of him. He didn’t like him, there was something cold and implacable about the man.

They were led down the pitch-dark driveway, footsteps crunching softly. Then the shape of what looked like a large country house loomed ahead, and David glimpsed tall chimneys against the sky. They walked slowly on towards it.

A slit of light appeared, as a door in the side of the house opened a fraction. ‘Aztec,’ the captain said, quietly. The slit widened. David’s party was led up a short flight of stone steps and through the door. They found themselves in a long corridor lined with pictures, blinking in sudden light. A young man in khaki uniform with a Union Jack sewn on the breast pocket was posted at the end, a rifle over his shoulder. The corridor windows were all heavily curtained, the sort of thick material David remembered from the 1939–40 blackout. In the distance he heard voices; this place was big, probably owned by some aristocrat who had come round to supporting the Resistance. A telephone rang somewhere in the depths of the building. It was answered quickly.

The man who had opened the door was elderly, tall and thin, dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat, like a butler. He looked them over, then stepped forward with a smile. ‘Welcome, gentlemen. Mr Fitzgerald?’

David stepped forward. ‘Yes?’

‘Could you take Dr Muncaster upstairs please? Mr Hall, could you come with me? Your account of what happened in London is needed.’

‘All right,’ Ben said. ‘See you soon, Frank.’ Ben followed the man away down the corridor. The captain accompanied them. The man with the Union Jack on his uniform stepped forward, addressing David and Frank in a friendly tone with a strong Welsh accent: ‘Come with me, please.’ He turned to the uniformed men. ‘You chaps, go outside and someone will show you where to park your truck and bunk down.’

He led David and Frank down the corridor to a hallway with a wide central staircase. Through a half-open door David glimpsed furniture covered with white dustsheets. Another man in a uniform with a Union Jack and a rifle joined them. They walked upstairs. From behind a closed door nearby they heard a murmur of male voices; another telephone rang somewhere. David guessed this place was some sort of headquarters. The reports of Hitler’s death would be causing a flap.

David and Frank were shown into a large bedroom, again with heavily curtained windows. There was a double bed and a pair of camp beds on the floor. ‘Keep the curtains closed please,’ the Welshman said, his tone still amicable. ‘There’s a toilet just up the corridor. We’ll have some food brought up. Mr Hall will join you later. I’m Barry, by the way.’ He was the first person they had met since their rescue who had given them his name.

‘Can you tell us where we are?’ David asked.

‘No, sorry,’ Barry answered apologetically. ‘Not now. Is there anything else you need?’

Frank said, ‘I’m supposed to have my – my medicine, to help me sleep. I need it. Ben knows about it.’

The Welshman nodded. ‘I’ll have a word with him.’ He smiled. ‘Have you heard the news?’

‘The rumours that Hitler’s dead? Yes.’

‘It’s more than rumours. German radio say Goebbels is the new Führer. Maybe things are going to happen now, eh?’

When he left the room Frank sat down wearily on the bed. ‘What d’you think of that?’ David asked.

‘I don’t know if I believe it.’ Frank scratched his chest. ‘I feel bad. I can’t stop thinking about Geoff, seeing him on the ground. And Sean and Eileen. I nodded off in the truck, but the pictures that came into my mind . . . He put his head in his hands.

David sat beside him. He looked at his watch; it was past one in the morning. He felt exhausted, and suddenly angry with Frank. Was it any worse for him than the rest of them? David knew that what had happened tonight would affect him for the rest of his life. Assuming he survived. He looked at the top of Frank’s head, then thought, he didn’t volunteer for this the way the rest of us did. He put a hand on his arm. ‘We’re safe now.’

Frank looked up. ‘Are we?’

There was a knock at the door and Barry returned. He had a tray with sandwiches on it, and also a glass of water and a bottle of pills. Frank’s eyes lit up. ‘This what you need?’ Barry asked.

David said, ‘You had this stuff here? You knew we were coming?’

‘We thought you might be. We know it’s important Dr Muncaster has the – what is it – Lar-something.’

‘Largactil.’ Frank eyed the bottle with an addict’s greed. Barry opened it and passed the glass and two pills to Frank, who swallowed them eagerly and lay back on the bed. ‘I’ll feel better in a few minutes,’ he said. ‘Then I’ll sleep.’

David thought, he may not be physically addicted, but he can’t do without them.

Barry looked at David. ‘I’d get a bit of sleep yourself now if I were you. Will you be – er – all right with him?’

‘Of course I will,’ David answered sharply.

Barry left. Frank lay on his side and after a minute his breathing became deep and regular. Wearily, David took off his boots, then the army tunic. He switched off the light, then walked over to the window and parted the curtains slightly. It was pitch dark outside, only the stars visible high in the sky, the suggestion of a treeline in the distance. There was a stone terrace directly below. Then a soldier with a rifle stepped into the slit of light and gestured at him angrily to close the curtains. David thought, there must be guards all round this place. He felt his way over to one of the camp beds and lay down. At least it was warm in here; the room had central heating. To the sound of Frank’s regular breathing, he fell asleep.

He was woken by Ben switching on the light. He looked haggard. David sat up and, putting a finger to his lips, pointed at Frank. Ben stepped quietly over to the bed and looked down at him, then came over to David. ‘He’s out for the count,’ he said quietly.

‘They gave him his pills. He wasn’t feeling too good before. We’ll have to get him off them when we get away.’

‘If we get away.’ Ben sat down wearily on the other camp bed. He looked at his watch. ‘Christ, it’s near four. They’ve been questioning me all this time, trying tae work out how those Special Branch bastards found us. There’s raids going down on Resistance suspects all over London, despite the fog. A few people have been picked up but it seems it was us they were looking for.’

‘I think that little boy put them onto the O’Sheas.’

‘Aye, likely.’ Ben lowered his voice. ‘The people who questioned me were all military. They’re pissed off by all the trouble this mission’s caused. They don’t seem too happy with us.’

‘All we’ve done is follow orders.’

‘They seem to think we’re more trouble than we’re worth.’

‘I was scared when we were taken off that truck,’ David confessed. ‘I thought they might shoot us. You did too, didn’t you?’

‘Aye. I thought they’d decided to get rid of the problem.’

‘Are we still going to the coast?’

‘They won’t say. Nor where the fuck we are.’

‘I took a quick look outside, could only see some sort of terrace. There was a guard outside, he made me shut the curtain again.’

‘There’s people with rifles all over the house, and a guard posted in the corridor outside.’

‘Are they going to move us on?’

‘Fuck knows.’ Ben looked across at Frank. ‘Poor wee bastard, he’s best off out of it all for a while.’

David said wearily, ‘I was thinking earlier, I wonder if this is any worse for him than for the rest of us?’

Ben said, ‘I think life is worse for him than for most people. In the asylum, you know, some of them were quite happy, just living there. Though others just pretended to be. But Frank hated it.’ He looked at David seriously. ‘I know you think I’m a bit hard on him sometimes, but in the loony bin you have to make it clear who’s boss. It just reflects the system, keepin’ people under as cheaply as possible. It’ll be different after the revolution.’ A misty, longing look came into Ben’s eyes. ‘I didnae like it much, reminded me too much of when I was inside.’

David looked at him curiously. He realized the chippy young Communist was becoming a friend. ‘You said you were in prison when you were young. What was it for?’ he asked.

Ben glanced at him doubtfully, then said, matter-of-factly, ‘When I was seventeen I got found in bed with my best mate. He wis sixteen.’

‘Oh.’ David was astonished. He thought queers were girlish, effeminate, like a man who had worked in the Dominions Office and been sacked when they’d cleared out possible security risks a few years ago. Involuntarily, he leaned away. Ben saw the movement and smiled sarcastically.

‘Yeah, that’s right. I’m one of those. The Glasgow magistrates threw the book at me, and ma family disowned me. They were all Presbyterian Orangemen, poor as fuck and blaming it on the Irish.’ He shook his head, smiling sadly. ‘There wis five of us kids in three rooms, the babies had to sleep in drawers at night; there wisnae anywhere else to put them. My sister accidentally shut the drawer on ma wee brother Tam one night. He near suffocated, he wis always a bit slow after. I wis the clever one, no’ that it did me much good. A year in a reformatory and six strokes of the birch.’

David couldn’t think of what to say. He remembered the scars he had seen across Ben’s back. ‘The birch,’ he said quietly. ‘My father had clients who were sentenced to it. He used to say it was barbaric.’

‘Disnae sound much when you say it, does it, the birch, but when you’re strapped to a rack with nothin’ on and they bring that bunch of knotted canes out, well, I fucking wet myself. Still,’ he added bitterly, ‘it toughened me up, as they say.’ He looked David in the eye. ‘And we have to be hard, if we’re to fight for something better.’

‘I know.’ They fell silent. Then David asked, ‘Did they say when Natalia’s coming back?’

‘They didn’t tell me nuthin’.’ Ben smiled sarcastically again. ‘So you and she got together, then? I saw you both as you came down the stairs.’

‘Yes,’ David answered quietly. ‘Yes, we did.’

Ben shrugged. ‘It’s all right by me, pal. I’m the last one to cast aspersions. Natalia’s a tough one. I admire her. She’s been on some hard missions. I wouldn’t get too many romantic notions, though,’ he added.

David shook his head wearily. ‘I don’t know what notions I’ve got any more.’

‘It’s like that, bein’ on the run. Nae anchor, nae certainty about anything, nothing familiar. Sometimes you cling to people, take pleasure when you get the chance. It’s no’ a great way to live.’

‘No. That’s true enough.’

Ben looked at him seriously. ‘That’s why I’m glad I’m a Marxist. I’ve got something bigger than me, a truth to hold on to.’

‘A belief, at least.’

‘If you like.’

David said, ‘All I want’s an end to this savagery.’

‘Don’t we all?’ Ben stood up. ‘Anyway, I’m away for a piss, then I’ll try and get some sleep.’

David couldn’t get to sleep again. The terrible events of the day before kept spinning round in his mind. A few feet away, Ben had begun to snore lightly. His confession had been a total surprise. David thought, nothing in the world is how I believed it was, none of the safe certainties were true, ever.

After a while he padded over to the door in his stockinged feet and opened it gently. Outside, a young man in the ubiquitous khaki uniform with the Union Jack on the breast sat on a chair, rifle over his knees, half-asleep. He blinked, sat up straight and looked at David.

‘I need the toilet,’ David said quietly.

The guard jerked his head to the right. ‘Second door down.’

‘Thanks.’

This corridor looked modern, plasterboard walls, perhaps added to the house recently. David went to the door the guard had indicated. The lavatory looked as though it was a recent addition, too, just a little windowless cupboard room with a toilet and washbasin. As he went in he heard male voices murmuring. They seemed to be coming from low down, by his feet. He knelt and bent his ear to where the toilet pipe joined the wall and found he could make out the voices. There was some sort of conference going on, perhaps in the next room. There was a mixture of accents, arguing in loud tones. David made out the voice of the captain who had brought them. ‘It’s got too dangerous. We have to abort the mission. We tell the Americans it’s too risky.’

‘Then what happens to Muncaster and the others?’ A Liverpudlian accent.

‘I still say we could get this secret of Muncaster’s out of him ourselves,’ said a languid upper-class drawl. ‘Might be useful, whatever it is; if Germany collapses and Britain becomes properly independent again, we’ll be doing our own weapons research.’

The captain again: ‘Don’t be so bloody silly, Brendan. That would really piss the Yanks off. We’re going to need them now more than ever.’

‘What do we do with them, then, shoot them?’

The captain raised his voice: ‘Those people have risked their lives to get Muncaster here. We can absorb them within the organization. But Muncaster – given his mental state – I don’t know.’

‘If the decision’s to get rid of him, we might as well get what he knows out of him first,’ the man called Brendan retorted.

‘How can you even talk about it?’ The Liverpudlian accent. ‘An innocent man?’

‘A potentially dangerous man—’

The Liverpudlian: ‘Look, the Germans don’t know anything about the pickup.’

‘And if we go ahead and they’re caught . . .’

A new voice, cold and flat: ‘They’ve got suicide pills. Except for Muncaster—’

‘Well, we know the options.’ The Captain spoke with a touch of weariness. ‘We’re not going to agree. The ultimate decision is out of our hands. The briefing meeting’s at half past six tomorrow, so I suggest we get some rest, but think over the options carefully. There’ll have to be a decision first thing, there’s going to be a hell of a lot to decide over the next few days, with Hitler’s death announced.’

David heard murmurs, chairs scraping, a laugh, a door slamming. Then nothing. He stayed crouched over by the toilet, his fist in his mouth, trying to contain his rage, his eyes full of tears. They were pawns, just pawns. But then he thought, it was war and they were soldiers, volunteers. But not Frank.

There was a sharp rap at the door. The guard’s voice, loud. ‘You all right in there?’

David heaved himself to his feet, went and opened the door. The guard looked suspicious for a moment, then sympathetic. ‘Blimey, you look rough.’

‘Yes. Constipated. Not really eaten properly recently.’

He went back to the room. Ben and Frank were still asleep. David thought of waking Ben and telling him what he had overheard, but Frank might wake as well and he didn’t know how he would react. He would wait until the morning. He lay back down on his camp bed, shaking with anger. He knew he wouldn’t sleep now.

At shortly before seven, by his watch, David heard people moving in the corridors outside. It was beginning to get light, though with the heavy curtains drawn the room was still dark. Frank and Ben were still asleep. David got up, stretched, then padded over to the window. The meeting to decide their fate would be going on now. He parted the heavy curtains and looked out.

The beauty of the scene outside made him catch his breath. Wide lawns stippled with frost dropped away to a reed-fringed lake with still, clear waters where ducks swam, leaving a broad wake behind them. A red sun was just clearing the trees, and there were fragments of pink-tinged cloud in the blue sky. Beyond the lake, more lawns rose towards thick woodland, a mixture of trees, some with bare branches, others evergreens. The impact of the sharp colours was almost physical after the last few days in the smog.

Behind him he heard Ben stir. Ben went to look at Frank, then came over to stand beside David. He looked at the view and whistled. ‘That’s somethin’, is it no’?’

‘Where are we?’

There was a sharp knock at the door. As David and Ben turned, Barry, the Welshman they had met last night, came in. He was tired-looking, unshaven. To David’s astonishment, he was followed by two young housemaids in uniform, black skirts and blouses, white pinafores and caps, each carrying a large tray loaded with food.

Barry nodded. ‘’Morning.’ He looked at Ben. ‘You need to get Dr Muncaster awake. Have some breakfast and a quick wash and shave, then we need you downstairs. Spruce yourselves up a bit, there’s some shaving stuff in the toilet up the hall.’ He went over to Frank and looked down at him. ‘Will he be all right to answer some questions?’

‘Leave him,’ Ben said sharply. ‘I’ll get him up. He’ll be fine. We’d better be with him, though, or he’ll get scared.’

Barry nodded. ‘All right.’

‘What d’ye want to ask him?’

The man looked at them seriously. ‘It won’t be me, mate. Some of the bigwigs have been talking about the next step for you people. You’ll be talking to them. Come on now, girls, leave those trays.’

After the maids and Barry left the room there was silence for a moment, then David said, quietly, ‘Don’t wake Frank just yet. Listen, I found something out last night. You should know.’

As Ben listened his face darkened and he clenched his fists. ‘Bastards,’ he breathed. ‘You mean they might try to force this secret out of him for themselves, after what he was promised, or even fuckin’ kill him? What, take him out and shoot him on that terrace?’

‘Keep your voice down. I don’t know. But there’s nothing we can do, we’re too closely guarded.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Except make sure we stay right by Frank, and if it looks as though they’re going down that road, give him one of these.’ He took the cyanide pill from his pocket and held it out. ‘Did you transfer yours when you changed into your uniform?’

‘Aye. ’Course I did.’ He stared at David. ‘If we do that, we’ll really be in the shit.’

‘I don’t care,’ David said. ‘I’ve had enough, I won’t stand for it.’

Ben nodded agreement. David couldn’t help wondering, would Ben’s reaction have been different if it were the Russians who wanted Frank’s secret? Who knew? Everything was in flux now, with the three of them at the centre.

Frank was hard to wake, a little groggy at first, but he came to himself as they ate. He asked Ben for his morning pill. Ben said he would ask the staff, exchanging a look with David and shaking his head slightly; if the worst came to the worst Frank should be fully awake. They went to the little toilet in turns to wash and shave. When they returned to the room, Ben told Frank some people wanted to talk to them.

‘What about?’ His eyes were instantly wary.

‘We’re no’ sure.’ Ben looked at David. ‘Might be a committee of bigwigs, we think. To talk about what’s to happen to us next. That’s what we hope anyway.’

Frank dropped his knife and fork with a clatter. ‘What do you mean by that? What else could it be? Bigwigs? You said nobody would ask about my brother, about what happened, they’d just try to get me out to America.’ He turned to David. ‘I can’t tell them, I won’t—’

‘A promise is a promise,’ David said steadily. ‘It’s all right, we’ll be with you.’

Ben looked into Frank’s eyes. ‘All the way, pal,’ he said. ‘Understand? All the way.’