I FLEW HOME the next afternoon, having spent the morning shopping for clothes for Marisol, chocolates for Alice and a box of Berlin pastries for Jacob and Kitty.
‘Where is she?’ I cried, turning the key in my door and stepping inside. Alice, who was sitting on the sofa, listening to the radio, put her finger to her lips.
‘She’s asleep in the nursery. Go and see her but don’t wake her up.’
My girl seemed to have grown in the few days I’d been away, and as I leant over her cot and kissed her little cheek, she moved and murmured in her sleep. ‘You will be safe,’ I whispered to her. ‘Whatever happens I will make sure of it.’
Charlie came to the flat early the next morning while I was still in my dressing gown making tea. ‘My God, you don’t waste time,’ I yawned.
‘No, I don’t, Blake,’ he grinned. And while I went to get dressed, he made breakfast.
I’d sent Alice home for the day, and now I could hear Marisol chattering to her stuffed rabbit.
‘Mama,’ she laughed, fastening her dark eyes on me, and I bent over and picked her up. ‘You’re a lovely girl,’ I cooed at her, ‘but I think you need a wash,’ and I took her to the bathroom.
‘Blake, where are you?’ I heard Charlie calling.
‘In the bathroom, with Marisol,’ I shouted back.
He put his head around the door. ‘God,’ he said. ‘She’s gorgeous,’ and he rolled up his sleeves and took over the bathing while I sorted out her clothes.
Later, I held her in my arms while we ate breakfast, handing her to him only when I got up to pour more tea. When I brought the cups back to the table, I laughed.
‘What is it?’ asked Charlie, who was struggling to keep his glasses out of Marisol’s curious little hands. ‘What?’
‘We look like a typical married couple,’ I said. ‘Mummy, Daddy and baby.’
‘I wish we were.’ Charlie said the words into Marisol’s cheek and stood up to take her back to the nursery for her morning sleep.
‘For God’s sake, Charlie,’ I said, exasperated. ‘You’re already married.’
‘Yes,’ he said bleakly as he went to put Marisol in her cot.
It’s time we had this out, I thought, finishing off my coffee. I have to ask him about Diana and why he doesn’t seem to love her or want to be with her.
‘All right,’ he said when he came back. ‘It’s time for a debriefing.’
‘Yes, I’ve got tons to tell you and ideas for a couple of extra articles but first . . . Charlie, tell me about Diana. You keep flirting with me and making remarks. It’s not fair to her and it seems so out of character for you.’ I thought back to that phone call I’d made to his home in Dorset. When she’d answered, she sounded quite harsh, as though she knew who I was and resented my call. ‘I spoke to her when I called you at home. She didn’t sound happy, does she know you make up to other women?’
‘No.’ Charlie sat down heavily on the wooden chair beside the window. ‘She doesn’t. She doesn’t know anything. Seven years ago she was thrown from her horse and paralysed from the waist down. She also suffered some brain damage.’ He gave a swift, sad smile. ‘Funny thing is, she’s always so happy to see me, although she doesn’t really know who I am.’
‘But,’ I said, upset by what he’d told me and almost disbelieving, ‘I spoke to her. She sounded quite sensible.’
‘You spoke to Clarissa, Diana’s sister. She’s been with us since Diana came out of hospital and has looked after her devotedly. Clarissa runs the house, nurses Diana and cares for the boys when they’re home from school.’
‘The boys?’
‘Yes, my stepsons. Diana was a widow with two boys when I married her.’
I put my hand across the table and took his. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t have asked, it’s none of my business.’
He sighed. ‘I’m afraid it is now, Blake. Now that I’ve told you. I’ll keep coming back from Dorset and grumbling to you about the latest slighting remark that Clarissa has made. She doesn’t like me because, as she never tires of telling me, I’m not a patch on Diana’s first husband. Basil was my cousin, you know, but we weren’t a bit alike. He farmed and rode to hounds.’ Charlie frowned. ‘Christ, they were all so very horsey.’
I smiled. Although it was a sad story, it made Charlie more understandable and the thought of him being part of a horsey family was funny. ‘I can’t think what on earth Diana saw in you,’ I said. ‘Or you in her, for that matter.’
‘Oh, she was all right, quite sweet in many ways, and I liked the boys. I hated to think of them without a father, so, even though Diana is a bit older than me, I stepped in.’
‘Like you did with Marisol?’
‘No. That’s different. I adore our little girl. I feel as though I could be her real father.’
I was about to pour scorn on that remark but then I realised that his emotions were no different from mine. I felt as though I was her real mother. ‘We’re a sorry pair,’ I smiled. I thought of how I was hopelessly in love with Amyas, and Charlie feeling the same about me.
‘I don’t think so, Blake. I think we’re lucky. Now,’ he leant forward. ‘Let’s get down to work.’
It took most of the morning for me to tell him about Berlin and to write copy for the paper. ‘This is good stuff,’ Charlie said after we’d finished. ‘I’ll go in this afternoon to set it all in motion and, naturally, your name will be fronting it. The photographs, delivered courtesy of Wilf Cutler, have already been developed.’ He laughed. ‘How you charmed Wilf into bringing them to us, untouched and unpinched I might add, I can’t imagine. He wouldn’t have done it for me.’
‘I introduced him to von Klausen,’ I said. ‘He got to talk to someone very close to the centre. Perhaps it was some sort of a thank-you.’
‘Well, whatever, your whole piece is going to be terrific. You’ve done great work, especially getting close to Heydrich.’
‘But you met him, remember, at that dance at the Kaiserhof.’
‘I did,’ Charlie agreed. ‘But it was only a brief handshake before he moved on. No, Blake. I confess, I’m jealous.’
I laughed. ‘That’s good.’
He grinned, then looked at my notes again. ‘I see you found Xanthe.’
‘I did, but, Charlie, I’ve lost her again.’ I told him about von Klausen coming to the hotel and saying that she’d gone to Bavaria. ‘I don’t think I believe him, but if she did go, I’m positive that she didn’t go of her own accord.’
‘Mm,’ he nodded. ‘And she didn’t know anything about what von Klausen and Heydrich were up to?’
‘No, not really. You know how dense she is, although . . .’ I remembered the one snippet of conversation about von Klausen going away. ‘She did mention a place, a place von Klausen was having meetings about and where he was going at the end of August.’
‘What place?’
‘D’you know, I’m struggling. I should have written it down, but at the time it wasn’t possible . . . it was something like Gleiwik, or Gleiwitz, yes, that’s what it was Gleiwitz.’
‘Gleiwitz. Where the hell is that?’
‘I don’t know and of course Xanthe didn’t either, but somehow I think it’s important.’
‘Could be. I’ll look it up when I go into the office.’
I knocked on Jacob’s door after Charlie had gone. I had Marisol on my arm and the box of pastries, which I’d kept overnight in my American fridge, dangling from my finger by the little cord that tied it. ‘Hello, Jacob. I’m home again. I brought you a taste of Berlin.’
He ushered me in. ‘Thank you, dear Seffy. It is thoughtful of you.’ He seemed rather distracted, and although I was made as welcome as usual, I could see that he had something on his mind.
‘Where’s Kitty?’ I asked.
‘Ah,’ Jacob replied. ‘I have arranged for her to have extra tuition to improve her English. She is with a tutor, down the road from here; she and two other children who came on the Kindertransport. I am happy for her, but . . .’
‘But what, Jacob? What is it?’
Putting Willi down on his little bed, Jacob went to his desk and picked up a letter. I could see from where I was sitting that it was official. It had a government stamp on it. ‘Read this, Seffy,’ he said. ‘Tell me what I should do.’
It was a letter from the Department of War, telling Jacob that the British government intended to register all German aliens living within the United Kingdom and that he should report to the nearest police station.
‘Goodness,’ I looked up at him. ‘This is a bit of a facer.’
‘It’s like Germany all over again,’ he cried, running his hands through his hair so that it stood up like a grey halo. ‘Registered, counted, put on a list. What will be next? Prison?’
‘It won’t come to that, I’m sure. You’ve been here, what is it now, ten years?’
‘Fourteen,’ Jacob said, sitting down on his chair and beckoning Willi to jump on his knee. ‘Fourteen years of paying my taxes and behaving like a good citizen.’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘I don’t think anything will come of it. Go to the police station and register. It would be better to do it straight away because that will prove that you are happy to comply with government rules. If you don’t go, they might come looking for you and that would make you look guilty of something.’ I had another thought. ‘What about Kitty?’
‘I don’t know,’ sighed Jacob, leaning over and taking the letter out of my hand. ‘It says aliens sixteen and over. She’s not sixteen.’
‘Then I don’t think you must tell them about her. Though they might know already, I imagine they keep an eye on German immigrants.’
‘Do they? Haven’t they got a quota of how many people should be allowed in?’
‘I wouldn’t worry about that. Some other child will have stayed behind, his parents not able to bear giving him up. You know how it is.’ I tried to sound confident, but I was sure that the civil service had a very precise list of all the children who had immigrated and where they had gone and they would probably catch up with Kitty some time. ‘Go to the police station this afternoon. I would.’
Willi suddenly pricked up his ears and thumped his tail, and the next moment I heard the sound of the key in the door and Kitty came in.
‘Oh, Seffy,’ she cried. ‘You have come home.’ She rushed towards me and gave me a kiss, and then after taking off her jacket she took Marisol into her arms and cooed at her.
‘I hear that you are having some extra lessons,’ I said. ‘Do you like your tutor?’
‘Oh yes, I do,’ Kitty said. ‘She is very nice. I have been doing a lesson this afternoon, learning . . . contractions. I can say, “I’ve” instead of I have and “we’ll” instead of we will. Like you do.’
‘Very good,’ I laughed. ‘It will not – that is, it won’t – take you long to speak fluently. So what have you been doing besides that?
‘Yesterday I went for a walk with Miss Alice and Marisol. She showed me the Houses of Parliament and told me some history about London. She is so good like that. I love going out with her and she has promised to take me to other places and tell me stories about them.’
Jacob got up and put the letter on his desk. ‘I shall make coffee to go with these pastries,’ he said, leaving Kitty, Marisol and me together.
‘How was Berlin?’ asked Kitty. She didn’t look at me, but I guessed she wanted to know whether I’d been to see her mother. I had to tell her straight away.
‘Kitty,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I couldn’t get into Auguststrasse, so I didn’t see your mother. The whole area seems to be out of bounds, particularly to reporters, which is what I am. I did meet someone the other evening whose wife has been regularly going in there to see her mother, but now she’s been taken. To a camp, I suppose.’ I took the girl’s hand. ‘I know that this isn’t nice for you to hear but I think, I hope, you would rather I was honest.’
She nodded. I don’t think she could speak, her emotions were running too high, and she rocked Marisol in her arms while my girl tried to undo Kitty’s thick plait.
I cast my mind about, trying to think of something to cheer her up and then it struck me. ‘Kitty,’ I said. ‘I’m thinking about going down to Cornwall for a few days, to the seaside. Perhaps at the end of the week. Why don’t you come with me? That is, if Uncle Jacob agrees.’
‘What do I have to agree about?’ Jacob had come in with a tray of coffee.
‘I want to take Kitty to Cornwall for a few days. Please let her come; you too, Jacob, if you would like. There’s plenty of room.’
‘I will stay in London,’ he said. ‘There are things I have to do.’ He jerked his head towards the desk where the letter from the government lay. ‘But Kitty, yes. It will be good for her. Thank you, Seffy.’
I turned to Kitty. ‘Would you like that?’
She looked up and I could see that she had tears in her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I would like it very much.’
So it was decided. Alice was thrilled with the prospect. ‘I’ve never been to Cornwall,’ she said. ‘All over the world with some of my families, but never Cornwall. It’ll be a right treat.’
I went into the office the next day and wrote my piece and took it and the photographs into the editor’s office. He was sitting at his desk enveloped, as usual, in a cloud of blue, foul-smelling, pipe smoke.
‘D’you mind having a look at this?’ I asked. ‘Is it what you wanted?’
I waited while he scanned the article and leafed through the pictures and was quite alarmed when he slapped them down on his desk. Oh God, I thought. He doesn’t like it.
‘You see,’ said Geoff, pointing to my typewritten paper and the photographs, ‘that’s what the others don’t get about you and I do. You always seem to be able to gain access to the right people. The pictures of Heydrich and the piece about the picnic are terrific. They give insight into the minds of ordinary Germans.’
‘They’re not that ordinary,’ I said. ‘Those picnickers were all party members. But at the same time, I did get the impression that the majority of the population, certainly in Berlin, are ready for war. They know what’s coming and I think they approve.’ I sighed, thinking of Dieter and Rachel. ‘The minority are terrified and are being terrorised. I’ll be giving you another article about that.’
He gave me an odd look. ‘So, you’re not thinking of leaving us?’
‘No,’ I said, confused. ‘Why would I?’
He bashed out his pipe in the ashtray and I watched, wondering when the thick glass would break. ‘Look, Miss Blake, we all know that you brought a baby back with you from Spain. There has been talk that you won’t be able to manage your brief with your responsibilities at home.’
That’s bloody Monica, I thought. She’s been spreading the poison again. But why now?
‘I do have a baby,’ I admitted. ‘I adopted her in Spain on our last assignment. Her mother died giving birth to her and her father entrusted her to me. And,’ I said, surprised at how fiercely my words came out, ‘I will never give her up, no matter what Miss Cathcart and her friends might say.’
Geoff gave an embarrassed little cough. ‘I thought there was more to your adventure in Spain than Charlie put in the article. Is one to presume that the other person who helped you was this child’s father? Do you have a name?’
I frowned. Our editor was a newspaperman through and through. He understood the necessity of not disclosing one’s sources. And what if just saying his name put Amyas in danger?
‘We can’t tell you that.’ I spun round in my seat. Charlie had come into the office and heard the last exchange. ‘Come off it, Geoff,’ he said. ‘No matter how much Monica wants to know the details, neither Blake nor I will give them. Anyway, I can assure you that Miss Blake’s baby is well cared for, has a proper nanny and Miss Blake will continue to be the best young reporter you have on this paper.’
Geoff grinned. ‘That’s all right, then. You two make a great team.’ He gave me an awkward glance. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Blake. Our owner had heard and was a bit worried.’
I smiled back. ‘It doesn’t matter. I understand what went on.’ But I made a vow that somehow I’d get back at Monica. I wasn’t the sweetness and light person that some thought I was.
When we were back at our desks I asked Charlie if he’d mind if I went away for a few days. ‘All right, Blake,’ he said. ‘But only a week. Things are hotting up and I’m arranging a meeting in France with their foreign ministry. It’ll probably be in about ten days’ time and I’ll need you for that.’
‘I’ll be back before then,’ I promised. ‘I want to show Marisol my house by the sea. I want her to sniff the Cornish air.’ I had another thought. ‘Charlie,’ I said slowly. ‘You could join us for a couple of days. I’d like that.’ I was coming to the realisation that having Charlie around was a good thing. A comfortable thing. He made me laugh.
‘I might,’ he answered. ‘It would be good to have a day by the sea. Don’t hold me to it, though. If anything happens I want to be on hand and I’ll want you to be with me as well.’
I gave him the address and telephone number of Summer’s Rest and then, as I was about to return to the article I was writing about Dieter, he said, ‘By the way, Blake. I looked up that place you mentioned. The place that Xanthe said von Klausen was going to. It’s in German Silesia, not far from the official border with Poland. It’s a disputed area and has been since the last war. I don’t think he’d be going there unless they’re up to more than we thought. I’ll keep an eye on it, but maybe she got it wrong.’
‘I expect she did,’ I said, and that got me worrying about Xanthe again and I wondered how she was and where she was. That afternoon I went to see my father, to tell him that I hadn’t been able to persuade my sister to come home.
‘But you did see her?’ he asked.
‘Oh yes. She looked well and has a house in a nice area of Berlin.’ I didn’t tell him about von Klausen; that would be up to Xanthe. I didn’t tell him she was pregnant, either.
‘I don’t care how nice the area is,’ he groaned. ‘She must get out of there. I’ve contacted the British Embassy but they have no idea where she is. How is it that you found her?’
I laughed. That was more or less what von Klausen had asked. ‘I’m a journalist, Daddy. We find things out. Look, I’ll give you her address and you can pass it on. They might have some luck with that. And there’s one other thing. She’s being very reckless with her money. Is there any way you can put a limit on her account? I know it’s a trust fund but can anything be done?’
He looked up at me. ‘You’re trying to tell me that she’s giving money to her Nazi friends, is that it?’
I shrugged. ‘Possibly.’
‘Oh God, that girl,’ he growled. ‘Nothing but trouble. Always has been.’ He picked up a book from the table beside his chair and lovingly stroked its cover. It was a gesture I had seen him make so often. ‘Leave it with me,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll contact the lawyers and see what can be done.’
I had a moment of private malice. That should put paid to von Klausen. Perhaps he’d let Xanthe come home if he was cut off from her money, but I smiled at my father and said, ‘Anyway, enough of her. How are you?’
He hunched his shoulders and I took a proper look at him. His face was paper white and he had dark shadows under his eyes. ‘Not so good,’ he muttered. ‘My fellow in Harley Street wants me to go into a clinic for tests. Said the old ticker isn’t working properly.’
‘Well, go,’ I said angrily. ‘Do what you’re told.’
‘Yes, Seffy, dear. I will. I’m going next week.’ He smiled fondly at me. ‘Don’t nag.’
‘Have you heard from Mother?’
He nodded, miserably. ‘She’s started divorce proceedings and sent me papers to sign. Apparently it doesn’t take all that long in America.’ He flipped over the pages of the large dusty book he was reading and made a pencil note in the margin. ‘I still don’t know what I did wrong.’
‘Nothing,’ I said, upset for him. ‘Absolutely nothing. It was her.’
It was a bright sunny day when we set off for Cornwall and all thoughts of Mother and even poor Daddy had vanished. I was excited. This time, when I arrived at the house, it would have an extra frisson because it would be mine. My property. A property that I loved and which meant so much to me, especially after being there with Amyas. I thought of him a lot on that long drive, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Nothing legal, I was sure of that.
‘Why are you smiling?’ asked Kitty, who was sitting beside me. Alice and Marisol had taken the back seat and were fast asleep.
‘I was thinking of someone,’ I answered.
‘Someone good?’
‘Good? Well,’ I laughed, ‘I don’t think anyone would call Amyas good. But . . .’
‘He is someone you love?’
‘Yes,’ I said simply. ‘He is.’
‘Is he here in England?’
‘I don’t know, Kitty. I don’t know where he is. He could be anywhere.’
As we’d started off so late, and because Marisol needed to have a proper sleep, I decided to stop over at a hotel for the night in Devon. It was frustrating because I was suddenly desperate to get to Cornwall. I needed to smell the sea and walk barefoot on the beach, but in the morning, when I came to start the car, it had sprung an oil leak. The garage mechanic said it would take all morning to fix.
‘Oh, God, this is ridiculous.’ I looked at Alice and Kitty. ‘Perhaps we should turn round and go home.’
‘Oh, no.’ Kitty’s face fell. ‘I have not been before to a beach. Please, please, Seffy, let us go.’
‘All right,’ I grinned and raised my eyebrows to Alice, who was smiling too. So, after lunch, when the car was mended, we set off again and arrived at Summer’s Rest in the late afternoon of a wonderful Cornish day.
Alice and Kitty exclaimed with delight over the house as, holding Marisol in my arms, I walked on to the veranda and looked at the ocean. It was smooth and calm, greeny blue and sparkling in the sun. I’ll have a swim later on, I promised myself. I’ll immerse myself in the water and remember the time we made love in the sea. How long ago was that? Two years? It must be. And so much had happened since.
‘Your daddy was here,’ I said to Marisol, who was pointing to the sea and squealing in delight. I thought of Amyas standing on this veranda and me coming up behind him and putting my arms around his beautiful, naked body. Oh, Amyas, I thought, how I want you.
‘I’m going down to the village,’ I said, ‘to see Mrs Penney. If we’re lucky she’ll be able to come up and cook for us. I won’t be long.’
With Marisol in my arms I walked the few hundred yards down to the harbour and to the fisherman’s cottage that was the Penneys’ house. She was there, brushing sand from her step, and looked at me, and particularly at Marisol, in surprise.
‘Well, Miss Seffy, what can I say? Is this your child?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, she is. I adopted her in Spain. Her name is Marisol and I hope you’ll come to care for her as you did for Xanthe and me.’
‘I dare say I will, but I’m still surprised at you, Miss Seffy. Carrying on the way you did with that man.’
‘I know,’ I said, ‘and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I’m down here for a week, can you come up to the house? I’ve brought the nanny and a young friend, so there’ll be the three of us.’
She gave me a screwed-up smile, from a face that had spent many days looking out to sea. ‘Of course I will. I’ll be up in the morning. Have you got something for supper?’
‘Yes, I bought bread and milk and some eggs on the way. I’ll make an omelette.’
‘All right.’ She stepped forward and peered into Marisol’s face. ‘Adopted, you say? Well, she’s a pretty babby, I’ll give her that. You brought a pram down here and a cot?’
I shook my head. ‘I’ll carry her and she can sleep on one of the little beds in the nursery until I get more organised.’
‘No need,’ Mrs Penney said. ‘Your old cot is in the loft and there’s a pram in the store shed. I’ll send Penney up later to get them for you. Make do for tonight and I’ll give them a good scrub tomorrow.’
‘Thank you,’ I smiled. Then, ‘Mrs Penney, the house is mine now. My father has given it to me. I hope you’ll continue with the arrangement.’
‘I know it’s yours, Miss Seffy. Your dad sent me a kind letter and a generous cheque.’ She patted my arm. ‘You were a naughty girl with that man, but I’ve always said you were the best of the bunch, so I’ll keep on and gladly.’
I walked back up to the house, calling hello to the villagers who knew me and nodding to the summer visitors.
Kitty was waiting when I walked in. ‘Seffy,’ she cried. ‘I have something to tell you.’
‘What?’ I smiled. ‘Did you walk on to the beach and paddle in the water?’
‘Yes. I did. How do you know that?’
‘Because that is exactly what I used to do as soon as we arrived from London. Did you love it?’
‘Oh, I did. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you. It is a most surprising thing. I met a man on the beach. And Seffy, it was Dov! The man who came to our apartment in Berlin. It is so surprising that he is here in Cornwall. On your beach.’
I knew then. I think I’d known all along. ‘Where is he?’ My heart was almost bursting from my chest and I could barely get my words out sensibly.
‘He is still on the beach, I think. He told me to send you down when you came home. He wants to talk to you alone.’
I had reached the bottom of the steps before I dared to look towards the sea and the figure in white trousers and a billowing white Indian cotton shirt who was standing on the shoreline. The late afternoon sun sparkled on the water and the gulls screamed as they followed in the wake of the fishing boat crossing the bay, but I had eyes only for him. As I started off across the sand the smell of ozone filled my head and my heart was beating so fast that I felt dizzy.
He turned and, as if in slow motion, started to walk towards me then stopped when we were only inches apart.
‘Hello, Persephone,’ said Amyas, smiling his beautiful smile and, opening his arms, he gathered me in.