Page 27 of The Dark of the Moon
He was quieter as we walked back along the river to my digs. When it was time for him to go, he held me for a long time beside the holly bush at the gate. ‘You will take care, won’t you,’ he whispered, burying his face in my hair.
I tipped my head back to look right into his eyes. ‘Don’t worry, most of my days are spent sitting behind a very safe desk. But I promise I will,’ I said. ‘Just as you must. I couldn’t bear to lose you, you know.’
‘I’ll always be yours, Philly. By the dark of the moon and the light of the sun, remember?’
I nodded. ‘I’ll always remember.’
And I stepped back and watched as he kicked the starter pedal of his motorbike and disappeared down the lane, raising his hand in a final salute. He didn’t need to look back to see if I was watching. He knew I would be.
Summer became autumn and the leaves in the grounds of the Manor turned from red to gold, then tumbled to the earth, forming a thick carpet on the bank surrounding the lake. I was walking there after lunch one day when a soldier in a sergeant’s uniform approached.
‘Miss Buchanan.’ He spoke tersely, unsmiling. ‘They said I might find you here. Would you come with me, please?’
I followed him into the main house and down a corridor to an office. It was the room where I’d signed the Official Secrets Acton my first day at Bletchley Park. I glanced at the leather-topped desk, half expecting to see the revolver still lying there, but it had been replaced by a pile of papers, stacked tidily beside an inkwell and a blotter.
I didn’t recognise the man sitting behind the desk, and he didn’t introduce himself, but I could tell from the rows of gold braid on the sleeves of his jacket that he was a General. He peered at me over the top of his gold-rimmed spectacles and gestured to me to sit on the chair across the desk from where he sat. He glanced down, consulting the sheet of paper he held in his hands, then back up at me.
‘Miss Buchanan,’ he said. ‘We have received a somewhat unusual request from our people in France. I understand you are familiar with the château where the French have given refuge to a team of Polish agents?’ He paused, waiting for me to nod, then continued. ‘We have need of your services once again. Our intelligence suggests the Germans may soon be taking over Vichy France as a result of ... well, suffice it to say some significant developments. So it has become a matter of some importance now that the residents of Cadix leave as quickly as possible and we would like to offer them a new home in Britain. We’ve communicated this to our French counterparts, but unfortunately they do not share our sense of urgency. They want to hang on to the Poles, but we need them here in Britain. It has been suggested that a direct approach by you might be able to persuade them – the Frenchman known as Bolek, and the leaders of the Polish team – that they need to leave as quickly as possible.’
He paused, searching my face to make sure I understood the gravity of the situation. I returned his gaze steadily, giving a brief nod.
‘They should make their way to Spain by whatever route possible and our people will meet them there, facilitating theirtransport out,’ he continued. ‘Could you do that, do you think? Would you be prepared to go back and deliver this message to them in person? It is vitally important.’
I didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, sir,’ I said.
‘Very good. In that case, if you are prepared to leave right away, we have a car waiting.’
I was a little thrown by the immediacy of the arrangements. When he said it was urgent, he clearly meant it. But I stifled my qualms and said again, emphatically, ‘Yes, sir.’
‘You’ll go tonight. Everything you need for the trip will be provided, and you’ll be fully briefed. I think you know the drill by now.’ He stood and extended his hand to shake mine, dismissing me. ‘Thank you, Miss Buchanan. You’ll find the sergeant waiting for you at the front door. He’ll show you to the car.’
My day had begun like any other, but it ended with another journey to the airfield at Tangmere. The light was just beginning to fade as we drew up in front of the cottage and the moon was visible in the darkening sky. It was past its fullest, starting to wane. There would only be a few days left this month when the Lysanders could fly. But then if I was just going to deliver the message and persuade the Poles to pack up and leave as quickly as possible, I supposed it would all be over and done with quickly and I’d be collected in a day or two’s time.
The door of the cottage opened, and Major Bertram beckoned me in. ‘It’s good to see you again, Miss Buchanan. Or should I say, Eveline,’ he said. While his smile was warm, there was a tension behind his expression as he led me to the Ops Room and began my briefing.
The map was dotted with more pins than the last time I’d seen it, denoting an increase in the areas defended by flak cover. The corridor along which the planes could get through had definitely narrowed in the past months. The Captain noticed me scrutinisingit. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘As you can see, the challenges haven’t got any easier. But then I suppose that’s why you’re here. Things are hotting up, and not just across France.’ He frowned. ‘We haven’t had the time I’d have liked to prepare for this mission, but we know it’s important. You’ll only have a day to liaise with the team at Cadix and we’ll be back to pick you up the next night, before the moon window closes. We can bring two additional passengers on the return flight, so you may wish to ask the Poles to prioritise those who need to leave the soonest. The others will have to take their chances getting out via Spain, where it will be easier for us to extract them in greater numbers.’
I thought of Janina, along with Jakub and their unborn baby. Would they qualify as priorities? Or would it be more important to extract the group’s leaders, like Marian, Henryk, Antoni ... how would they decide?
Just then the door of the Ops Room opened, and Wing Commander Elliot walked in. ‘Hello again,’ he said, his tone matter-of-fact as he pulled out a chair and joined us at the table. Once more I was both disappointed and relieved that it wasn’t Ben who’d be flying the mission. The map clearly showed how much more dangerous these flights were now. But then I realised it probably only meant Ben would be flying somewhere else over Europe. I imagined all the Special Duties pilots flying the Lizzies would be busier than ever these days.
Major Bertram handed me a thick envelope. ‘There’s money and papers in there,’ he said. ‘To help them get out of France. And here are the briefing documents for them, with details of an agent they should liaise with in Spain. If they can make it across the mountains from France into Spain, we can do the rest. I can’t stress it too highly – although it probably goes without saying – if you’re caught you must find a way to destroy this information. You understand that, don’t you?’
I nodded, then glanced across at Commander Elliot. He, too, was looking at the map on the wall, a slight frown creasing his brow.
Major Bertram stood. ‘All right then, Eveline.’ He placed an emphasis on the name, reminding me of my role. ‘If you go upstairs to the first room on the left, you’ll find the things you need. Clothes, papers and so on. The ones you had last time. You won’t need to take anything else, other than that.’ He nodded to the envelope he’d given me. ‘You’ll be extracted tomorrow night. Thankfully, the weather is set fair so at least we have that on our side.’
‘Right-o,’ said Commander Elliot, getting to his feet in turn. ‘I’ll go and get our Lizzie checked over and ready for the off then. See you back here for supper and then we’ll leave around ten-ish.’
In the bedroom upstairs, beneath the timbered eaves of the cottage, my fingers shook as I did up the buttons of the woollen jacket and tied my bootlaces. This mission felt horribly less well-prepared than my last, and the timing was tight. I pulled back a corner of the blackout and peeped out of the window. Over the wall, above the airfield, the waning moon was rising, just visible in the darkening sky. I settled the blind back into place and took one last look in the mirror. Eveline stared back at me, her face pinched and pale. But her expression was determined, and I gave her a little nod before I turned away, tucking the envelope into a leather satchel that had been provided with the clothes and going downstairs to try to force down a little supper. It was going to be a long night.
Finn
Very early in the morning of the Acclimatisation Day for the sailing course, Mum asked me if I’d like to go for another walk on the beach before breakfast. It was still dark, but we were both up because I hadn’t been able to sleep very well and then I’d been sick. Mum came into my bedroom when she heard me trying to clean it up. It was all over my sheets and it smelled really bad.
She asked me if she could take my temperature. I said OK, because I was really hoping I did have a fever and then I wouldn’t be able to do the course because I’d officially be ill. Mum would have to cancel her trip and stay in France and bring me Marmite sandwiches in bed (once the sheets had been washed) and that would make me feel better.
But she looked at the thermometer and said it was absolutely normal and that it must just be nerves. So I got dressed and then we went out of the gate and down the path through the dunes to the beach.
