The winter of 1940-41 was Siberian. Griffon House stood as though encapsulated in a bubble of light and warmth, whilst around it the whole country appeared to be going up in smoke. Thousands of people were killed. By then, Eve had had enough of Griffon House. Electra was well able to take her place. She determined to go over David and Faludi’s heads and ask Colonel Linder for something that could involve her more directly in the war.
A few days before Christmas she received a letter from him saying that she was to come to his office on 30 December.
Nobody went to London by choice, but if one was travelling out of almost any city at that time, it was a case of exchanging one blitzkrieg for another. It was hell on the railways, so Eve decided to travel up on the last Sunday of the year to give herself more time. She had been given a permit to stay in the basement of one of the Government buildings in which Colonel Linder had his London office. It was a case of arriving and taking your belongings into the basement, and staying there overnight.
That night 10,000 fire bombs fell on the centre of London. Even so deep underground, Eve could hear the crash of buildings collapsing throughout the night. It was impossible to sleep. Smoking was not allowed. Those who had foresight had brought something to eat and drink. Eve had only a screw-top bottle of lemonade and sponge cake she managed to buy at the café on the Embankment where she had rowed with David Hatton in September.
Now that the social barriers had come down, English people were talking to one another. Eve struck up a conversation with a woman who told her that she was Mrs Jago, a Jewish refugee, and that she and her little girl had recently arrived in England and she must present her papers.
‘What about Mr Jago?’
‘Seb was taken away – some friends say in a cattle truck, but I wasn’t there.’ The woman said it so matter-of-factly. ‘I do not expect to see him again.’
What was there to say? ‘I am sorry’ was so inadequate. ‘But you have your little girl. What is her name?’
‘Elizabeth.’ The woman stared at Eve, disconcerting her. ‘May I tell you something?’
‘Of course. What have we got to do except sit here and talk until the raid is over?’
‘The day after we arrived, which was… I don’t remember, after Christmas Day, we came into London Docks. After we had disembarked and were free, there was an air raid. Elizabeth tripped as we ran for shelter. Her arm was broken, not a serious break. Some people were so kind. They took us to the hospital where we were told to wait to get an X-ray and plaster.’
‘So she’s still there?’
‘No. A nurse took Elizabeth and told me it would take time, so I should find a tea trolley and wait. The X-ray department was directly hit by a big bomb… nothing left but a big, big, hole. Everyone was killed.’
‘Elizabeth?’
‘Everyone.’
The woman’s dry-eyed constraint was frightening.
‘You should get some treatment yourself,’ Eve advised. ‘I think you may be suffering from shock. It could be bad if you don’t get help.’
‘Thank you.’ She withdrew into herself for several minutes. ‘We would have been better to go with Seb.’
All that Eve could do was to break off half the cake and offer to share the lemonade.
The last Eve saw of Mrs Jago was when the all clear sounded, and Mrs Jago took her one bag and went to queue up to use the toilet.
The world outside was unbelievable. The whole area from where Eve had spent the night to St Paul’s Cathedral had been all but demolished. Elizabeth Jago was known to have been killed, but in the devastation of last night’s blitz, there would be hundreds of people never accounted for.
Surprisingly, the building where she was to meet Colonel Linder still stood. It was too early for office workers, but a night guard allowed Eve to use the ladies’ room and found her a place to wait until her appointment.
‘They tell me my courtesans are working well.’
‘They are, sir. They prefer to be known as the FiFi.’
‘Ha, ha. Damned good. But I understand you want to move along?’
‘There is nothing at Griffon House that Miss Sanderson can’t do. The women there like working in those surroundings. But I think my brain will shrink if I stay there any longer.’
‘How is Vee Dexter?’
‘Very well. She certainly suits the place, and I think the place suits her.’
‘If I take you away, then I should appoint Miss Dexter to your post.’
‘Vee hasn’t been to the Finishing School, and I thought Miss Moncke’s plan was to have everybody at Griffon under her command.’
‘All right, then Miss Dexter shall have the full Finishing School treatment. And Miss Sanderson shall replace you in the meantime.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘And what about you, Miss Anders? You must have had something in mind when you went over your two seniors and asked to see me.’
‘I realised that it would be you who would make the final decision, so coming to you directly seemed appropriate.’
‘Miss Anders, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you ever ease up?’
‘Yes, of course I do, sir. Why do you ask?’
‘You are such an earnest young lady. I’m told that you have a great intellect and ability which you seem to need to use endlessly.’
‘I can hardly switch off my brain, sir.’
‘Do you go dancing?’
‘I love dancing.’
‘Tennis? Swimming, the cinema, music?’
‘All of those, sir.’
‘Really? Then I may have read you wrongly. I believe that it is essential that life contains an element of pleasure.’
‘Satisfaction is better, sir.’ She gave him a smile. ‘More satisfactory.’
He nodded and smiled. ‘What is it that you want me to give you permission to do? I am quite sure that you have it all planned.’
‘I should like to learn to fly, sir. I know that I could do it. I have always had an affinity with anything mechanical that has an engine and moves. I can strip down an engine and put it together again.’ She gave him another smile. ‘I know that I would make a good pilot.’
The colonel leaned back in his chair and stared off through the netted windows, drumming his fingers. ‘I believe what you say, but what would you propose to do – if I allowed this?’
A shiver ran through Eve, thrilled at his interest. ‘There are two possibilities at the moment. One is to transport aircraft from the factories; the other is to do the channel-hopping, dropping our agents wherever they need to be dropped.’
Colonel Linder slapped his hands together briskly. ‘Right! You shall have it.’
Eve raised her eyebrows high and smiled broadly. ‘Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.’
‘Good, now that’s settled, let us get down to my reason for calling you here. Maybe it could be part of a deal between us.’
A deal? Linder was head of SOE for the entire south of England. Pike don’t make deals with minnows.
‘Now. Concerning Major Vladim. I, of course, know your past history with him.’ He looked at her over his half-lens glasses, expecting a response, which he didn’t get.
‘Major Vladim has proved himself invaluable to us, more than that… He now has a section of his own, brought into being by him, and it is proving very, very important.’
‘Yes, sir. I can imagine it would.’
‘However, we have a problem. His presence here is clandestine – he’s best classed as a refugee. However, his own country considers that he has no such status, but is a deserter and traitor. They demand that he is handed over to them.’
‘How could they possibly know that he was here?’
‘Good question. We believe that the GPU have been on his trail, but have come to a dead end for the moment. So they are, so to speak, flying a kite; demanding any of the likely nations who may have accepted him – Australia, Portugal, Switzerland, ourselves – to hand him over.’
‘Are you saying that they don’t actually know that he has come here?’
‘No, as I say, they are fishing around. We, of course, don’t admit to knowing who this man is, but the GPU aren’t fools. Vladim himself is proof enough of their calibre, if proof were needed.’
‘You can’t possibly hand him over… sir. He would be shot as a deserter. He would have to be made an example of.’
‘However – and I warn you what I am about to tell you is classified Top Secret, and I should not be telling you this if it were not for the Vladim problem – the Soviets are teetering on the brink. Which way will they jump, with Germany or Britain? Britain cannot afford to cross them with things as delicate as they are.’
‘You aren’t even contemplating using him—’
‘No, no. Vladim must stay with us. He is crucial to the Polish cipher section. But he must disappear. He has already been registered as a refugee, Lec Podsadowski. But change of name is not enough, and he is not truly a refugee. Under international law, if his country wants him returned, then we must do so.’
Suddenly Eve felt cold. She crossed her arms over her chest and stilled her shivering hands under her arms. She knew almost nothing about international law. Even if what Linder said was a pack of lies, it was probably what would happen anyhow. Individuals could sink as long as governments swam.
Linder took two glasses from his desk drawer and poured a finger of golden spirit into each. ‘Almost the last of my good brandy – go on, drink it.’
Eve took the drink and felt it burn its way down. She wondered how delicate interviews would be managed if there was no drink to smooth difficulties. It was either the teapot or the bottle of spirits. ‘Thank you, sir. It’s no use me saying that I can’t believe this would happen, because I know that it could, and I know how guilty I should feel for my being the reason for him to have come to England.’
‘You have no reason to feel that. Major Vladim came very willingly.’
‘That doesn’t make it any easier if he is handed over to them.’
Linder poured out the very last of the brandy. This time Eve sipped and felt her mind, which had been dull with fear, begin to function. If the Government intended to hand Dimitri over to the Russians, they would just do it, and she would never find out what had happened.
‘You haven’t called me here just to tell me this, have you, Colonel?’
‘There is a solution, Miss Anders.’
Eve knew that there was. She stared through the glued-on nets at the windows and saw a fire reignite in a nearby building. Linder waited patiently. ‘Naturalisation. If I married him, as my husband he could become a naturalised British citizen.’ She turned from the window and met his gaze.
Linder nodded. ‘Would you do it?’
Eve took plenty of time, then nodded. ‘No need for us to do a deal, sir. Of course I will do it. But with one condition.’ She never really understood the true reason behind this. ‘After the official civil ceremony, you allow Major Vladim leave to come to my home and for us to be married in the village church.’
‘All right… why not? Actually, Miss Anders, I think that a splendid idea. Could it wait a few weeks? Not the registry office ceremony, the church wedding?’
‘A spring wedding in a village church – what could be more cheerful in the midst of war? Do you think I might start my flying tuition before then?’
Linder laughed. ‘You press a hard bargain, Miss Anders. All right. I’ll tell Captain Faludi to sort it out.’