There was a buzz of excitement in the air in the days leading up to the concert. On March the seventh, Allied troops crossed the Rhine, and the feeling was that the Nazi resistance couldn’t hold out much longer. Although V2s continued to fall, more and more launch sites were being captured, thanks in large part to the work of the women in the Filter Room, using information fed to them by their sister Filter Room workers who had been taken to Belgium to pinpoint launch sites. While the Filter Room was still busy, Jess didn’t feel the same sense of despair that had haunted her when the V2s had started falling. Now she knew that every launch site they helped destroy could no longer be replaced by troops in retreat. They were winning the war in the air and on the ground. It could only be a matter of time before it was all over.
Despite the excitement, she couldn’t stop thinking about Evie’s theory. No matter how outrageous her suggestion had been, Jess found it impossible to shake off the nagging suspicion that Evie might be right.
‘Ridiculous,’ she said out loud as she arranged chairs into rows in the Memorial Hall. It was the morning of the concert, and she had requested a forty-eight-hour pass to prepare.
‘What is ridiculous?’ asked a voice.
Jess jumped and spun round, pressing a hand to her chest. There was Milan, holding his violin. ‘Milan! I didn’t hear you come in.’ Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. Before she could step back, he pulled her close and planted a lingering kiss on her lips. For a brief moment, all her worries melted away, and she allowed herself to relax. While she was in Milan’s arms, she could believe they had a future together.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she said.
‘I told you I would do my best.’ While he had met with Kathleen Swift to rehearse the piece he had chosen to play, he hadn’t been able to guarantee his attendance until just three days earlier.
Jess stepped back to look at him properly. He looked tired, she realised. His face was pale, as though he had spent too much time cooped up indoors – or in the cockpit of an aeroplane – and there were fresh lines around his mouth and eyes. Lines of strain. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘I have been busy. That is all.’
She hesitated. ‘Have you heard any more about Jiří’s family?’ She had listened in shock when Milan had told her about the mistake that had led to a bomber flight bombing Prague instead of Dresden. Her heart had gone out to Jiří, knowing how helpless he must feel not knowing if his family were safe or not.
‘Not a thing. I do not think there is any way of knowing for sure without going there.’ Milan tugged at the knot of his tie as though it were too tight. ‘Jess, I must speak to you about—’
‘Actually, I must speak to you, too.’ Jess was acutely aware that Leo and some of the cast and crew from the film would be arriving soon, and she needed to tell Milan about her arrangement with Leo. They had only met once since Leo’s confession about the fake marriage, when Milan had been so troubled about the Prague bombing, she hadn’t wanted to add to his worries. Although they had spoken on the telephone several times, it hadn’t been a conversation she’d wanted the operator to overhear.
She swallowed. If she was honest with herself, she had put off telling Milan because she knew how weak it made her sound. ‘Leo’s coming this evening.’
A slight frown had furrowed Milan’s brow. Now it cleared. ‘You do not have to worry. I know having him here means you will raise more money.’
Hell’s bells. Why had she waited this long to tell him? His understanding made it all the worse. She moved another chair, taking great care to line up the legs with the one to its right. ‘There’s something else, though.’ She kept her eyes on the chair while she spoke. ‘He’s pretending that we’re getting married so he can get work with a Hollywood studio.’
Milan burst out laughing. Jess was so surprised and relieved, she dropped the next chair she had just picked up. ‘What will they say if they sign him and discover you have no intention of marrying him?’
Jess released a shaky breath and grinned at Milan. ‘I don’t think he’s thought it through. He’s just desperate to get work.’ Then a memory returned. ‘Actually, I think he’s found himself in debt to the wrong people.’ She repeated the conversation she had overheard at the Christmas party.
She moved to pick up another chair, but Milan placed his hand over hers, stopping her. ‘I understand you want to raise money. I would go to any lengths to help the people of Prague. If there was anything I could do.’ Jess could feel the full weight of his helplessness and frustration in those last words. She had the impression Milan was talking to himself, his gaze focused on a scene a thousand miles away. Then he seemed to recover himself and he was seeing her again. ‘I will not bother telling you I do not like it. You are not an idiot. You know how this makes me feel.’
Jess almost wished he would be angry. Tell her she had to refuse to cooperate with Leo’s lies or he would leave her. This patient understanding only made her feel worse. A mental image flashed into her mind of Evie giving her a knowing look. ‘See,’ she seemed to say. ‘You’re punishing yourself.’ She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak but Milan went on.
‘I do not wish to see you hurt. And this man still has the power to hurt you, I think.’
Jess had no answer to that. She moved more chairs in silence. Milan helped her. She was grateful that now he had made his position clear, he did not labour the point. Whenever she looked at him, he seemed lost in thought.
Then she remembered that he had been about to tell her something earlier. ‘What did you want to say to me?’ she asked.
But the door swung open again, and Evie and May appeared, having just finished their shift in the Filter Room. And there was no chance to find out what Milan had wanted to say. Still, there would be plenty of time after the concert.
Seeing Evie and May arrive, Milan slipped away into a back room to warm up before the concert. After tuning his violin, he ran through a series of scales and arpeggios.
His mind drifted while his fingers automatically worked through the familiar exercises. It had taken all his self-possession not to show Jess how hurt he was that she could allow another man to pretend they were together. Did that mean he could not put his arm round her or hold her hand while Leo and his friends were in the room?
He supposed he was partly at fault. He had pursued Jess doggedly at the start of their relationship then when they had met again he had fought to keep seeing her. Yet now, several months afterwards, he hadn’t spoken up. Hadn’t so much as hinted that he saw any future with her. He supposed with Evie’s wedding fast approaching and May and Peter clearly also destined for marriage, Jess must be expecting Milan to speak up and ask her to marry him. However, despite knowing he wanted a future with her, he didn’t know what he had to offer her. His life was in Prague. Thanks to his new violin and the improvement he had seen since starting to practise again, he was hopeful of finding work in an orchestra or even as a soloist in Prague. He had already made something of a name for himself there, and hopefully he would be able to pick up his life again if he returned. No one knew him in London. He didn’t think he would find it so easy to make a life for himself here. Until he knew what he was going to do, he didn’t feel it was fair to burden Jess with his feelings. And without declaring his intentions, he felt he had no right to complain if she saw other men. He hoped Leonard Steele didn’t hurt her, though. He had used her and discarded her once before, and Milan hadn’t seen any sign that he was sorry for the way he had treated her back then.
After playing through the piece he planned to play later, he left his violin and returned to Jess. The room was filling up when he emerged from the side door into the hall. There was a buzz of excitement among the audience.
‘Is it true Leonard Steele will be performing?’ he heard one middle-aged woman say to another. Both sat near the front and wore what Milan guessed was their Sunday best dresses and hats, their hair expertly waved and their faces made up with almost as much care as Jess’s. Both craned their necks to look at the entrance each time the door creaked open, and Milan knew they were straining to catch a glimpse of Leonard Steele.
He turned when a hand slipped through his arm and saw Jess, her eyes alight. ‘Isn’t it marvellous?’ she said. ‘Look how many people have turned up already.’
‘That’s thanks to you and all your hard work.’ And her contacts in the acting world.
Jess led him to a group of chairs at the side of the hall. ‘The performers will sit here,’ she said. ‘I’ve put Douglas Murray and Leo’s group as the last acts.’ She leaned closer with a grin. ‘It’ll make sure everyone stays until the end,’ she added. ‘I’ve put you down to play third, because I know you’ll really make the audience sit up and take interest after a couple of air force choirs who, between you and me, aren’t bad but nothing special.’
The door opened again, and Milan could tell from the ripple of interest from all those already present that it must be Leonard Steele arriving. Jess hurried to greet him, and Milan drew several slow, deliberate breaths to calm the sudden flare of temper. When Jess returned, she was accompanied by four men. There was no mistaking the famous face of Leonard Steele among them.
Jess introduced him, her smile a fraction too bright and her voice a shade higher than usual. Milan would have much rather punched him in the face than shake his hand, but he didn’t want to embarrass Jess. Besides, it wouldn’t do to injure his fingers. He contented himself with gripping Leonard’s hand until he spied a flicker of discomfort in the man’s eyes.
Although Jess also introduced the other three men, Milan didn’t pay attention to their names, and he quickly forgot them. His head was too full of anger towards the self-satisfied Leonard Steele who right now had his hand on Jess’s shoulder and whispered into her ear. Milan only unclenched his jaw when Jess stepped away from Leonard, shot Milan an apologetic smile and disappeared backstage.
Soon the hall filled up. Jess walked on stage in front of the curtain and the hum of conversation died down. Milan’s heart gave a leap, as it always did whenever he saw her. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this concert in aid of the victims of the V2 bombing in Poplar. All proceeds from the ticket sales will go towards providing for the families who lost their homes and possessions during the attack. We’ve got some wonderful acts lined up for you tonight, so without further ado, I’d like to welcome onto the stage the barbershop quartet, Air Fours.’
The curtains opened to reveal four young RAF officers who, Milan supposed, must be attached to RAF Bentley Priory. Despite Jess’s warning, they were rather better than Milan had expected and after singing three songs, left the stage to enthusiastic applause. Milan took the opportunity to slip through the side door and he went to collect his violin. After checking it was still in tune, he carried it into the wings and watched a group of WAAFs perform a lively rendition of ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’. Looking out across the audience he saw smiles and heads nodding to the beat, indicating people were enjoying the first two performances far more than Jess had estimated. He could only hope that the piece he had decided to play wouldn’t prove too highbrow and spoil the mood.
It was amusing to watch the audience. More than one woman surreptitiously leaned forward or back and kept turning their heads to dart glances at the group at the side of the hall then quickly turned their faces back to the stage before their companions noticed. Usually their companions were too busy doing the same thing to notice where their neighbours were looking.
On stage, the WAAFs reached the end of their song with a flourish and the audience applauded. The young women trooped off, blowing kisses to the audience, and Jess strode back onto the stage to introduce him.
‘Thank you, Waaflers,’ she said. ‘And now I’d like to introduce you to a talented violinist who will be playing “Havanaise” by Saint-Saëns, accompanied by Mrs Kathleen Swift. Please give a huge welcome to Milan Mašek.’
Milan walked onto the stage, his sleeve brushing Jess’s as she headed for the wings. He couldn’t help it. He smiled at her, happy to see her in her element, organising an event to help others. Jess’s face was turned away from the audience as they passed. She shot Milan a glare, giving an unmistakable nod of the head towards the side of the hall where Leonard Steele sat. Don’t spoil this for me, her look said.
Milan could keep his feelings in check just as well as Jess. Even while he bowed to the audience with a polite smile plastered to his face, his eyes sought out Leonard Steele and silently promised retribution to the man who had treated Jess so badly yet expected her help in furthering his career.
He tucked the violin under his chin then gave Kathleen a nod. The first gentle chords of the piano sounded then Milan was playing the lilting first notes. Even though Jess wouldn’t allow him to display his true feelings for her in public, she couldn’t prevent him from pouring all those feelings into his playing. As his fingers ran up and down the strings, he forgot everything except the emotions of the past few months. His love for Jess, his fears for his family, the hollow in his heart from being exiled from the country he loved. He found expression for them all in this piece of music that alternated between dreamy, drawn out notes and explosive bursts of furious bowing as his fingers moved faster than thought. At these moments he attacked the strings with all the savagery he longed to inflict on Leonard Steele.
Before he knew it, he had reached the final drawn out high notes. He looked into the wings and met Jess’s gaze, feeling like he had experienced a catharsis. Somewhere in the storm of music, his thoughts had fallen into place. He knew what he had to do.
After the final note faded into silence a hush fell on the hall. The audience was so still, Milan could hear the blood pulsing in his ears. Then someone coughed; that seemed to release everyone from their spell, and the audience burst into enthusiastic applause. Milan took a bow then walked into the wings.
As he passed Jess, she caught his sleeve. ‘That was…’ She shook her head wordlessly and dabbed at her eyes. She gave a crooked smile. ‘Good job you’re only playing once, or I’d lose all my mascara.’ After a brief squeeze of his arm, she walked onto the stage.
He didn’t hear what she said to the audience. He walked straight to the room where he had left his music and violin case and packed it away. Then he picked it up and walked out into the passage leading to the hall. He nearly ran into a distinguished looking man in late middle age.
The man took Milan’s hand and shook it vigorously. ‘Splendid performance,’ he said. ‘Takes me back to hearing that piece performed by Yehudi Menuin.’ Then he fumbled in his pocket. ‘I’d love to talk to you, but I’ve got my own performance to prepare for, and I’ve got to dash off at the end. Another engagement, you know.’ Milan, his thoughts still in turmoil after his performance couldn’t really take in what was happening. He just nodded and muttered something in reply, he hardly knew what. Then the man pulled something from his pocket and handed it to him. Milan saw it was the man’s card. The name ‘Douglas Murray’ was printed on it in elegant copperplate. It rang a bell, but Milan wasn’t able to place it. ‘I’d very much like to talk to you,’ Douglas Murray said. ‘Get in touch when you have a moment.’
Milan nodded, scarcely taking in what Murray had said. He put the card in his pocket and then he was heading for the hall to the door while Murray went backstage.
He pushed the encounter to the back of his mind as he took his seat. His head was too full of Jess to spare a thought for anyone else.
The decision that had occurred to him on stage remained unchanged. He needed to give her time. If she truly loved him, she would not toy with his affections. He would tell her what he had decided after the concert.