Dominion

Chapter Fifty-Seven

THEY DROVE INTO ROTTINGDEAN, past some large houses to a village green with a pond in the centre, a skin of ice on its surface, and a tall war memorial, a stone column topped with a cross. On a hill to the right Frank saw a large windmill, outlined against the starry sky. To the left the ground rose up to an ancient church. Frank remembered the kind, brave vicar in London; if it hadn’t been for him, he knew, he would have wandered about in the fog until he was caught, and then – he took a long, deep breath.

A few cars were already parked outside the large houses surrounding the green, and Natalia drew quietly to a halt between two of them. They stepped out into the freezing air. There were a couple of streetlights, but nobody was in sight and the windows of all the houses were curtained and dark.

Natalia told them not to talk, just follow her, as quietly as possible. Frank felt his heart begin to pound as he walked beside David. Sarah and Ben were behind him and Natalia in front. They turned into a narrow street with shops on either side, some Christmas decorations in the windows. Beyond the end of the street, moonlight shone on the sea.

Frank remembered his talk with Natalia, when he had asked to see her that afternoon. In her room he had asked her, haltingly, to give David the chance to rebuild his marriage.

He had thought she might be rude or contemptuous, but she only said, in a kindly but definite tone, ‘You don’t understand.’

He answered, ‘I suppose that’s true in a way. But I can see Sarah loves him, even though she’s so angry now. And he has feelings for her, I’m sure he has.’

Natalia lit a cigarette, inclined her head. ‘What if he feels more for me than for her?’

‘If he just abandoned her in America, think of the guilt he’d feel. David doesn’t forget people. He didn’t forget me, remember, when you asked him to get me out of the asylum.’

Natalia smiled sadly. ‘You are so like my brother. Your problem is not that you don’t understand things, it’s that you see too much. But you must leave me and David to decide what to do.’

‘I know,’ he answered quietly. Natalia looked out of the window, her arms crossed, her pose thoughtful, then turned back to face him.

‘Don’t say anything to the others, please. We all have to concentrate on our escape now.’

Frank said, ‘I won’t.’ He took a long, deep breath. ‘But there was something else I wanted to ask. About tonight.’

Natalia turned into a tiny street of little cottages fronted with dark flint. She approached the second cottage. Like all the other buildings they had passed it was in darkness. But when she went up to the door it opened a crack; someone had been watching. She whispered the mission password, ‘Aztec.’

The door opened wider and Natalia went in, the others following. For a moment they were in complete darkness. Then a light was switched on and they saw they were in a small room with battered furniture, photographs on the mantelpiece. A stocky man in his forties in a heavy blue jersey stood in the middle of the room. His face was lined and weatherbeaten, stubble on his seamed cheeks, but his small, dark eyes were sharp and alert as he looked them over. ‘Any problems?’ he asked quietly. His deep voice had a strong country accent.

‘None,’ Natalia said.

‘Anyone about?’

‘Nobody.’

‘We’ll go through to the back.’

They followed him into an untidy kitchen, smelling strongly of fish. He drew a pair of dirty curtains shut and waved them towards a wooden dining table where hard chairs and a couple of stools had been drawn up. ‘Sit down.’ He joined them at the table, gnarled hands clasped together.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Give me your first names.’

They told him. ‘I’m Eddie. I’m a fisherman,’ he said. ‘I’m going to row you out to the submarine. I’ve a big old rowing boat, I’ve left it down at the beach. Some of you will have to help me row, we’re going out about a mile. I’ve got the bearings and a red torch to flash out to sea, when we get near. You’ll see the sub as we approach; it’s big. They’re expecting us at one a.m., we need to get rowing out by twelve thirty. It’s only just gone half past eleven, we’ve plenty of time.’ He nodded to the darkened kitchen window, and gave them a gap-toothed smile, his first sign of friendliness. ‘You need to know exactly where you’re going if you’re in a boat, there’s an old submerged pier out there. I’ve fresh clothes for you here, heavy dark clothes. You’ll need them, it’s going to be very cold out at sea. Understand?’

They all nodded silently.

‘We’ve had people walking up and down on the cliffs since morning with binoculars, there’s no sign of anything unusual out to sea. And the village has been quiet all day.’ He looked round them once more, his eyes lingering on Frank, as most people’s did. ‘Is everyone ready?’

‘Yes,’ Natalia said.

‘Has anyone any experience of rowing?’

David said, ‘I rowed for Oxford. Haven’t done much since, but it’ll come back.’

‘Good.’ Eddie picked up a pair of binoculars and slung them round his neck. ‘Go on up, then,’ he said. ‘Up and change. Men to the left room, women to the right.’

They went upstairs. Frank and David and Ben changed into thick sweaters in a tiny bedroom, then heavy trousers, boots and peaked caps. When they were finished Ben put his cap at a jaunty angle, grinned at them, and said, ‘All right, me hearties?’ in a mock-Long John Silver accent. David managed the flicker of a smile. He looked at Frank. ‘We’re going to be all right. We’re almost there now.’

Frank nodded. ‘You haven’t said much since we arrived,’ David said. ‘Sure you’re okay?’

‘Yes,’ Frank answered quietly.

They went back outside. Eddie took the lead. They walked down the main street in silence, then at a signal from him they crossed the coast road, which ran at right angles to the High Street. There was a hotel opposite, a sign hanging from a pole creaking gently in the light breeze from the sea. Next to it a sharply angled stone path led down towards the water, between high concrete banks. They followed Eddie down. At the bottom of the path was a promenade, bounded by cliffs on both sides. Steps could be seen leading down from the promenade to the little beach. Eddie said, ‘Wait here a moment. I’ll look around. Get your eyes accustomed to the dark.’

He went forward, the rest of them standing at the end of the path, between the high banks. There was no light now, apart from the half-moon which made a long pencil of silvery light on the sea. Frank, looking at the others, felt a sudden sense of distance, as though none of this were anything to do with him any more. He thought suddenly of his flat in Birmingham. He would never see it again. He realized he didn’t care.

He heard Sarah speak quietly to David. ‘I was just thinking of Mrs Templeman. I don’t know why. I suppose I wonder what she’d think of it all.’

‘She’d think we were doing the right thing.’

‘And Charlie?’

‘A great adventure.’ There was a catch in David’s voice.

Eddie returned. ‘It looks all clear,’ he said quietly. ‘We’re going to cross the promenade and go down the steps to the beach. Come on now, follow me. Slowly now, one at a time, don’t rush.’

David watched as Ben followed Eddie out onto the promenade. Frank was next, then Sarah. He was about step forward himself when he felt Natalia’s hand on his arm. He looked round. He couldn’t see her face properly in the shadowed mouth of the pathway but it looked serious, grave.

‘Listen, David,’ she said quickly. ‘We’ve only a moment. I’m not coming with you.’

He stared blankly. ‘What do you mean? You must—’

‘I don’t want to go to America. That’s not where the struggle is. It’s here, in Europe, the climax is coming at last. I have to be part of it. I’m going back to London. And you – you belong with your wife.’

‘But why—’

She put her finger to his lips. It tasted of the salty air. Her brown hair stirred in the breeze. ‘Your friend Frank came to see me.’ She smiled wryly. ‘What he said tipped the balance. And – I could never settle to a safe life again, even with you. Every time I thought I had one, you see, it was taken away.’

Footsteps could be heard coming back from the promenade; the others would be wondering why they hadn’t appeared. Natalia said, ‘Ben is in charge from now on.’ She grasped David’s arms and kissed him quickly. He saw tears shining in those slightly slanted eyes. She said, quietly, ‘Ich hob dich lieb.’

He held her. ‘What did you say?’

‘It’s what your mother said to you. It means “I love you”. Forgive me for not telling you before. Ich hob dich lieb, David.’ And then she turned away and walked rapidly back up the path, disappearing from view quickly in her heavy dark clothes. Ben appeared beside him. One hand was in his pocket, where his gun was. ‘Whit the fuck’s gaun’ on?’ he hissed.

‘It’s Natalia,’ David said. ‘She’s not coming, she’s staying behind.’

‘Jesus.’ Ben hesitated for a moment, looking up the path.

‘She said you’re in charge now. Come on,’ David added, quietly, a catch in his voice. ‘I never even knew her last name.’

‘Naebody did.’

Then Sarah appeared at the mouth of the pathway, Frank and Eddie beside her. Eddie asked anxiously, ‘What happened?’

‘Natalia’s stayin’ behind,’ Ben answered.

Sarah looked at her husband. ‘Why?’

Ben said, ‘Never mind. She’s gone. I’m in charge now. Come on.’

The five of them crossed the promenade and descended a flight of stone steps, clinging to a slippery metal rail. The whispering line of the surf was surprisingly close, the tide high. Eddie pointed over to a large, dark, concrete groyne about twenty yards away. The moonlight cast a shadow beside it. ‘The boat’s over there,’ he said quietly. ‘Let’s go and get it upright. It’s gone a quarter past twelve.’

They walked the short distance to the boat, their feet crunching on the shingle. It was hard keeping their balance in the dark; Sarah almost slipped and David took her arm. She looked at him and nodded thanks.

Then all hell broke loose. The boat heaved up from below, knocking Eddie and Ben to the ground. A sudden blur of dark figures surrounded them and strong arms grasped David’s hands, pulling them behind him. Looking wildly to his left and right he saw that Sarah and Frank were similarly pinioned, held by men dressed in black clothes, with black balaclavas and blackened faces. A fourth man was dragging Eddie to his feet, while another struggled on the ground with Ben. Ben was strong but his assailant was stronger and a moment later he too was hauled to his feet, arms behind him.

There was a sixth man with them, stouter than the others. He stood by the boat, looking round. ‘There’s one missing,’ he said in a German accent. ‘The Resistance woman.’ He walked over to David, looked at him, nodded briefly. ‘Mr Fitzgerald. I recognize you from your photographs. Where is she?’

‘Who?’

‘The other woman who should be with you.’

‘She didn’t come,’ David said.

The German frowned, puzzled. He took off his balaclava. ‘Then who leads you?’

Ben said, ‘I dae, ye fuckin’ fat Nazi cunt.’ The tall thin man holding him twisted his arm violently, making him cry out. ‘Commie poof,’ the man spat, and David realized he was British. Eddie and Frank stood still, unmoving. Eddie’s eyes were full of rage but Frank’s were unfocused, looking straight ahead at the sea. David thought, it’s what he’s expected all along and he was right. We’re not going to be able to save him after all.

Sarah said, ‘That’s the man who interrogated me at Senate House. He’s dangerous, David!’

David looked into the man’s face. Under the streaks of charcoal it looked fat and puffy, but the mouth was a thin line and the eyes were clear and questing.

‘Who betrayed us?’ David asked.

The German smiled. ‘I tricked your friend Geoffrey Drax into letting some information drop. But mostly I worked it out myself, with the help of certain radio intercepts.’

‘Geoff? My God. He’s alive?’

‘No longer, I think. He was badly hurt. I am sorry, he was brave.’ He turned and went over to Frank. ‘Dr Muncaster?’ he asked quietly. ‘Remember me?’

‘Yes,’ Frank answered, just as softly.

Gunther nodded at the tall thin man holding Ben. ‘And you’ll remember Inspector Syme, who came with me to the hospital. You gave us a good run. This must have been a difficult time for you, a great strain.’ He spoke sympathetically. David thought, the bastard’s weighing him up for interrogation already.

Gunther sighed. ‘Well, it’s over now, Frank, you did your best. Relax, talk to us a little when we get you back to London, that’s all you need to do.’ He turned to the others and said, ‘Hold them while I search them.’ Methodically, he went through each of the prisoners’ pockets. He found Ben’s gun, and David’s, and handed them to Kollwitz and Kapp. He also dug out the suicide pills. He held them in the palm of his hand, then looked at Frank. ‘You do not have one?’ he asked.

Frank shook his head.

‘They were probably scared he’d top himself the first chance he got, like he tried at the hospital,’ Syme said mockingly.

Gunther turned to Ben. ‘Is that right?’

‘Yes.’ Ben looked at Frank. ‘I’m sorry, pal.’

Frank turned his head, his face working for a moment. ‘It’s okay,’ he mumbled.

‘Right,’ Gunther said briskly. ‘Get them tied up.’ He nodded at Sarah. ‘Start with her. I’ll cover you.’ He took out a gun. ‘Don’t try anything, Mrs Fitzgerald, or I’ll shoot you dead. You’re dispensable, you see. You’ve dyed your hair, haven’t you? You Resistance people, you are always so thorough. Now, keep your hands behind you.’ He produced several coils of strong wire from his pocket.

When her hands were tied Sarah’s captor pushed her roughly down on the pebbles and stood back. Then Gunther turned to Eddie. He had not uttered a word so far but as his hands were tied he said, ‘My father and uncle died in the Great War, they’re buried in Flanders. I’m only glad they took some of your people with them.’ His captor hit Eddie sharply on the side of the head before shoving him down on the shingle beside Sarah and tying his hands. Gunther looked at Frank, David and Ben, each still held with arms pinned behind them. Gunther nodded at Frank. ‘Him next.’ David saw Frank was shaking, breathing fast. Gunther pointed the gun at his leg. ‘I won’t kill you, we need you alive. But if you try anything I will shoot you in the knee.’

David watched as the tall German holding Frank released his hands and took a coil of wire from Gunther. David thought, he and Ben would be next and then it would be over for all of them. The man holding him leaned forward and whispered in his ear, ‘I was with Sturmbannführer Hoth when he interrogated your friend, Drax.’ He chuckled. ‘He is so subtle, a master.’

David turned his head away, looked down to where Sarah and Eddie lay trussed up, the two Germans standing guard above them.

Suddenly two shots rang out, echoing round the cliffs, and both of the Germans staggered and fell. One crashed to the pebbles but the other fell across the prone figures of Eddie and Sarah; David saw a wash of blood spill out over them. Gunther whirled round. ‘Get the prisoners in front of you!’ he yelled to his three remaining men.

David was dragged around, pushed next to Frank and Ben. The three of them faced the promenade, forming a human shield for the two Germans and the Englishman holding them from behind. Gunther ran round behind them as well, feet crashing on the pebbles. Everyone was breathing hard, their breath visible in the cold air. David thought, Natalia’s here, she stayed behind to see us safe and saw the ambush. Natalia, who was a crack shot.

‘How many shooters?’ Gunther’s voice was a furious din.

Frank’s captor answered, his voice with its heavy German accent steady. ‘Only one, I think. I saw two flashes, same place.’

‘I want you to try and get him. I’ll hold Muncaster and cover you as well. Do you think you can do it, Kollwitz? I know it’s open ground.’

The German nodded at the groyne. ‘I can use the moonlight shadow for some cover.’ Turning his head, David saw the man called Kollwitz look at Gunther with cold, clear, fearless eyes.

‘Thank you,’ Gunther said.

David watched as Kollwitz ran to the groyne, zigzagging, crouched over, moving astonishingly fast. He glanced down at Sarah, one dead German sprawled over her, the other beside her. Their guns lay where they had fallen on the pebbles. There was a blotchy darkness on Sarah’s face, which David realized must be blood from the German. She stared up at him, she was breathing hard but her face was set. She gave him a brief nod. Eddie’s face was turned towards the promenade from where the shots had come.

Kollwitz had almost reached the top of the groyne when another shot rang out, echoing over the beach. This time David saw a flash of light from behind the promenade rails. Gunther saw it too; he fired at it instantly. Frank flinched away. David heard a cry from the promenade, a woman’s cry. He sagged in the arms of the man holding him. Gunther turned to Ben, his charcoal-streaked face furious. ‘It’s her, isn’t it, the Resistance woman? You posted her there on watch. That’s two of my men dead, you lying bastard.’

Ben didn’t reply. David watched as the dark, crouched figure of Kollwitz climbed the steps. He saw him walk up and down the promenade, as though he were looking for something, then wave his hands as a signal they were safe. David thought, is Natalia lying up there dead? He saw the dark figure of the German walk back down the steps and towards them. He was carrying another gun as well as his own. He said to Gunther, ‘Looks like you hit him, sir. There was a gun on the promenade and there’s a trail of blood leading to the path to the coast road. A lot, he’s hurt.’

‘She’s hurt,’ Gunther corrected him. ‘It was the woman. It’ll take her time to get back to her people, even if she makes it.’

‘I thought it better not to follow,’ Kollwitz said. ‘She’s harmless now.’

Gunther nodded. He drew a deep breath. ‘Right, let’s get the rest of them tied up. You next,’ he said to Frank, letting go his arms as he felt for another piece of wire in his pocket. Frank stood shivering violently.

And then he started to run. He almost overbalanced on the pebbles but he righted himself and stumbled on, towards the whispering line of the surf. It was surprisingly close now; the tide must be almost full.

Syme, who was holding Ben, laughed. ‘What are you doing, you silly cunt?’

Gunther, though, raised his gun. ‘Stop!’ he cried out urgently. ‘What are you trying to do?’ Frank stumbled on, almost in the sea now. Gunther lowered his pistol, aimed at Frank’s legs, and fired. Frank went down with a groan. Gunther stepped across the pebbles and leaned over him, turned him round. David saw Frank’s face, white with pain.

‘Why did you do that?’ Gunther asked. His voice was irritable, like that of a schoolmaster whose pupil had done something stupid. Frank didn’t reply. Gunther looked at his leg. ‘It’s just a flesh wound,’ he said, his voice reassuring now. ‘We’ll look after you.’ He took off the thick scarf he was wearing and began tying it tightly round Frank’s calf to make a tourniquet. Gunther called to Syme, ‘Come over here, help me get him up. Kollwitz and Kapp, watch the other two.’

Kollwitz stepped into Syme’s place, holding Ben’s arms behind him, as the lanky Special Branch man stepped over to Gunther. Together they pulled Frank to his feet. The German let Syme take Frank’s full weight. Frank stood on one leg, leaning on Syme, his trousers black with blood below the tourniquet. Gunther took a pencil torch from his pocket and shone it full in Frank’s face. It was white and set, his eyes wide and staring. ‘Don’t put any weight on your bad leg,’ Gunther said. ‘We’ll help you over to the boat, you can sit down on it.’

Frank put all his weight on his uninjured left leg. Then he took a long, shuddering breath and bared his teeth at Gunther in a wide, mirthless smile, the old Muncaster rictus. But there was something different this time; Frank was holding something between his teeth. Gunther shouted, ‘No!’ as Frank clenched his jaws together hard and David heard the faint crunch of breaking glass. Frank’s body jerked convulsively and he fell forward, deliberately throwing himself at the German to unbalance him and Syme. Gunther’s feet skittered on the slippery pebbles and he fell backwards, Frank falling on top of him. David thought, Natalia must have given him her pill. He must have talked her into it. He must’ve put it in his mouth when they left the car in Rottingdean; that was why he hardly spoke after that. And now he was dead, Frank was dead.

Taking advantage of everyone’s shock, Ben shoved himself violently backwards at the German holding his arms, Kollwitz. His captor lost his balance and staggered, letting Ben break away. David dug his heels into the pebbles and tried to do the same to the man holding him, but his captor braced himself and held on, letting out an angry grunt. Kollwitz had righted himself and was reaching for his pistol but Ben was quicker; he threw himself at one of the guns lying beside Sarah and Eddie then raised his weapon and shot the fair-haired German full in the chest. As he went down David’s captor pushed him away and aimed his gun at Ben. He and Ben fired at the same time. They hit each other. Both crashed to the pebbles, the German dead with a bullet hole in his forehead, Ben writhing on the ground, clutching his shoulder.

The beach was strewn with bodies now, dead and injured and bound. Gunther was struggling to push Frank’s corpse off him. Only David and Syme were left standing now, facing each other. Syme reached into his pocket and pulled his gun on David. ‘Don’t you fuckin’ move, sunshine,’ he said fiercely, his accent suddenly broad Cockney. ‘Hands in the air!’

David lifted his arms above his head, staring Syme in the eye.

With a grunt Gunther pushed Frank’s body off him but he did not stand. Instead he knelt, crouching over the body of the man he had hunted across England. He shone the torch in Frank’s face again. David saw Frank’s eyes, as still and unseeing as Charlie’s had been that terrible day, the Muncaster grin frozen on his face, tiny shards of glass glinting on his teeth. Gunther reached out and held Frank’s shoulders, then bowed his head. Syme looked at David. ‘Right, you fucker, hands behind your back. Let’s get you tied up. You can still be of use to Special Branch. Hoth, you cover me.’ Gunther looked at him with unseeing eyes for a moment. ‘Will you bleedin’cover me?’ Syme repeated, his voice ringing across the beach.

‘Yes – yes.’ Gunther pulled himself together and fumbled for his gun, pointing it at David. On the ground nearby, just beyond Sarah and Eddie, Ben was still groaning, clutching his shoulder. His gun lay beside him on the sand. Syme turned towards him, his face furious. ‘Stop making that noise, you cunt!’

‘I’ve got half ma fuckin’ arm shot off,’ Ben shouted.

‘I’ll bloody shut you up for good!’ Syme stepped towards him, pistol raised, walking past where Sarah and Eddie lay. Then David saw Sarah brace herself and kick up and out with both feet, right into Syme’s groin. He yelled and doubled over, dropping his gun, which fell by Sarah’s face. He reached down for it but she stretched out and bit him, with all her force, on the hand. He screamed, ‘Fucking bitch!’ and staggered away, tripping and falling down on the pebbles with a howl.

David lunged forward and picked up Syme’s gun. As he did so he heard a bullet ricochet off a pebble nearby, saw sparks from the bullet. Gunther. He turned swiftly and shot the German in the arm, Gunther’s gun flying outwards in a spray of blood. Gunther looked down at his arm in astonishment, then at David as he walked over and pointed Syme’s gun at the centre of the German’s broad, charcoal-smeared forehead. Behind him Ben was still groaning, and Syme was curled over in a foetal position, sobbing with pain. Perhaps Sarah’s heavy Wellington boots had burst his balls; David hoped so. His wife had saved him.

He looked into the German’s eyes. They looked, not hard and wicked as David had expected, nor frightened, but sorrowful and unutterably weary. David was suddenly aware of how cold he was, his feet were like ice and the hand holding the gun almost numb.

The German stood there, seeming not to care about the blood gushing down his coat from his ruined arm. He gave David a sad, lopsided smile and shook his head slightly. He said quietly, ‘You won’t win. You just held our victory up a little. That’s all you can ever do.’ Then, louder, he shouted, ‘For Germany!’ And there was a bang and a flash as David shot him between the eyes. Gunther fell back with a crash and lay still, his forehead shattered, blood and brains seeping out, white and black in the moonlight, the lopsided smile still on his face, as though he knew best even now. Beside him Frank lay, mouth still locked in the Muncaster grin. David looked back at Syme, who was struggling shakily to his feet, hands between his legs. David pointed the gun at Syme and he raised his hands. Still watching him, David reached over and gently closed Frank’s eyes.

Suddenly he heard the crunch of running feet: Syme was running away, slowly and painfully, towards the promenade. David fired at him but missed, the cold numbness in his hand affecting his aim. Syme loped painfully on. He reached the steps to the promenade and began to climb them. David fired again and this time he hit him; Syme went down. But he was still alive; he began crawling painfully up the steps. His leg muscles aching from the cold, David started to run towards him, but from the ground nearby Eddie called out, ‘No! You’ve got to get us into the boat! There’s just time to reach the submarine! But only just!’

David stood irresolute for a moment. He looked at his watch. It was quarter to one. All that horror and killing had lasted only half an hour. Syme had reached the top of the steps now, and was crawling onto the promenade. David raised his gun again but Sarah called out, ‘No, David! Leave him! You have to help us get away! And Ben’s hurt!’

Eddie said, ‘If we’re not there soon the sub will go! Untie us, quick!’

David thought of Natalia, hoped desperately that she had got away. Then he looked into Sarah’s eyes and nodded. He went over to Ben. He looked in a bad way, grimacing with pain, blood leaking from a nasty shoulder wound. David could see white, exposed bone. Ben said, ‘I cannae feel my arm.’

‘We’ll get you safe on the sub.’

Ben looked round the bodies on the beach. ‘We beat thae fuckin’ Nazis, eh?’

‘Yes. Yes, we did.’

He looked down towards the water. ‘Frank’s dead, isn’t he? What happened? I didn’t see.’

‘He had a poison pill after all. Natalia gave it to him.’

Tears came to Ben’s eyes. ‘Poor Frankie. Poor wee man.’

Frozen, soaked and shocked as they were, David and Eddie pulled away in the boat as fast as they could. The breeze was stronger out at sea, bitterly cold. Ben lay in the bottom of the boat. Sarah had opened his coat and had taken off her own jumper, pressing it down on Ben’s shoulder to staunch the flow of blood.

They were already some distance from the shore. Looking back, David saw the line of chalk cliffs that stretched to the east, the Seven Sisters. For a second he thought he saw something move on top of the cliffs. ‘Eddie,’ he said. ‘Can I have the binoculars?’

‘What is it?’ he asked sharply.

‘I thought I saw someone, up on the cliffs.’

‘Be quick.’ Eddie handed David the binoculars. Resting one arm on the rowlock, he scanned the top of the cliffs. He caught a glimpse of two figures, one a woman with long hair, leaning on the other one, a man. The woman was waving out to sea. He thought, it’s Natalia, she made it. She’s found one of the Resistance watchers.

‘Anyone?’ Eddie asked anxiously.

‘I thought I saw a woman waving. It might have been Natalia.’ He glanced at Sarah, but she didn’t look up from tending Ben. ‘He’s unconscious now,’ she said. ‘He’s in a bad way.’

Eddie and David pulled as fast as they could. Eddie had a compass on the seat beside him, kept guiding David to change course slightly. Out on the calm sea the silence was unnerving after the shots and cries on the beach. David looked at his watch. Almost quarter past. ‘Not far,’ Eddie said. ‘Steady, now.’

David looked at him. ‘Will you come with us? To America.’

The fisherman spat in the water. ‘Not likely. I’ve been a Sussex man all my life.’ He gave his gap-toothed grin again. ‘Do you know, since the 1940 Treaty put those duties on trade between Britain and Europe, smuggling’s started up again. French perfume, that’s a favourite. Haven’t earned too bad a living since.’

‘Will it be safe for you to go back?’ Sarah asked. ‘If he survives, Syme could identify you.’

‘I’ve friends all along the coast, most of them Resistance. I’ll be all right.’

‘Why did you join?’ David asked.

‘Don’t like being told what to do by Nazis and Fascists. It’s as simple as that, my friend. That’s all it needs to be.’

‘If you’ve the courage,’ Sarah said.

It was unbearably cold; David could barely feel his hands on the oars. He looked at Sarah again. ‘How’s Ben now?’

‘Quiet.’ She looked at him and said. ‘Why didn’t Natalia come with us?’

David didn’t answer, lowering his head over the oars. Then he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up. Sarah smiled at him, through the blood on her face, her old reassuring smile, the smile he had never deserved. He smiled back, sadly. Then Eddie sat up, pointing. ‘Look!’ he shouted. ‘Over there!’

They all turned to look.

Ahead of them they made out an enormous shape in the water, dark, like a whale. Eddie took out his torch and flashed a series of red signals. After a moment red flashes appeared in return. They rowed harder. They made out a giant cigar-shaped object, its flanks wet and slippery. They saw deck rails, a long gun-barrel. As they came up to it the submarine towered over them; they made out a conning tower bristling with periscopes, dark-clad figures moving in front. The conning-tower hatch opened and a powerful light shone on them, blinding them for a second.

David shouted out the password. ‘Aztec!’

The boat bumped against the side of the submarine, its dark flanks glistening above them in the moonlight. A rope was thrown across the rail by one of the figures beside the conning tower; Eddie caught it and made it fast.

‘Aztec it is,’ a confident American voice shouted back. ‘Let’s get you safe aboard!’