Hilda was on edge. ‘Otto is now the man of the house and I wish him to take greater responsibility. I cannot say how long I will be in Scotland, of course. I have family and friends there as well as in Hamburg. But you can assume that I shall return to Hamburg before too long.’
‘I understand, Frau Richter. And I wish you a safe voyage.’ He gave her a wide smile as if approving her trip. That was a relief for Hilda.
‘Thank you,’ she said, hoping he had said everything he wished to say. However, that was not to be the case.
‘You will leave with fond memories of our land, and of course, your much respected late husband.’
‘Naturally.’ She found herself folding her arms defensively.
‘And Karl and Renate, and especially Otto, will miss you?’
She was losing her patience with him. ‘Herr Eicke, they are my family. Of course, I will miss them, but I am returning I do assure you. Surely my travel arrangements do not require so much of your attention?’ She felt a mist of anger begin to rise.
‘You are quite right. Of course, I would not interfere with domestic arrangements.’
Herr Eicke stood up, walked to the window and gazed up and down the street. She watched him, sensing that his pose was somewhat staged, as if to say, Look at me now; see how important I have become.
He turned around smartly. ‘We are all insignificant as individuals. Together we realise Germany is on its way to recapturing its prominent and rightful position in Europe once more, and that England is, how shall I say, sympathetic to our cause, we hope.’
She hid a smile. ‘It always pleases me to hear that Germany has so much in common with England, or to be more precise, Britain.’
He thought about what she said for a moment. ‘Forgive me. Yes, Great Britain, you are right of course. The British royal family has Hanoverian connections, the English are Saxons from central Europe, and of course, the Scots are pure Viking Aryan stock, is it not so?’
‘Well, some are. Most are lowland Scots of Irish descent.’ The confrontation eased and Hilda relaxed eager to expedite the conversation. ‘Why should this interest you?’
Herr Eicke took a cigarette from a silver swastika emblazoned case. He tapped the cigarette twice against the case. He lit up and inhaled a second time before blowing a stream of blue smoke towards the ceiling. Then he turned to look at her. His eyes seemed to be closer together than ever, his eyebrows almost colliding. Eventually, he said, ‘Since 1912 you have been a German wife. You will be the mother of a brave German soldier soon and so I expect you will retain a firm loyalty to the ideals of our Fatherland in all its aspects?’
Hilda felt the atmosphere change for the worse.
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied firmly, keen for her conviction to appear genuine.
‘It would be good if you would keep in touch with me, not on a personal basis of course, although I would always value your friendship if it were granted.’
Hilda’s lips tightened. ‘I am confused, Herr Eicke. I am going to be in Scotland for a while. I cannot see how I could be of interest or assistance to you when I am there.’
‘Forres is in the north of Scotland, isn’t it?’ he asked curtly.
‘How do you know that?’ Suddenly she was on edge once more.
‘Otto has only told the truth. He told me you would be staying with your parents in Forres at their hotel, is that not so?’
‘Well, of course, I have to go somewhere when I arrive, and it is my parents’ home.’
‘Of course.’ Herr Eicke placed his cigarette ash in the ashtray on the mantelpiece. His spectacles slipped down the bridge of his nose and his expression grew more and more solemn.
‘We have our contacts in that area.’
Hilda let out a gasp of astonishment. ‘I doubt that, Herr Eicke. What a claim. It is in a remote part of Scotland, and it is most unlikely that you have German agents there. It would be a waste of their time.’ She laughed at the thought of German men entering Mr David Harvie’s baker’s shop in Forres without being noticed. Herr Eicke seemed uncomfortable as he threw his cigarette end into the fire.
‘You know the airbase at Lossiemouth and the garrison at Fort George?’ he asked.
Cold sweat trickled down Hilda’s back as she realised Eicke was quite serious and was playing his hand with both caution and precision. A moment’s silence seemed to pass at a snail’s pace. The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall stopped as it prepared to strike four.
‘If you already know about these places, what use am I likely to be?’ she asked guardedly.
‘Frau Richter, there are bases we would need if there was war against Russia and a naval attack on our country. We would rely on the British in such an event. If they refused, well… we would have to take the matter into our own hands. I’m sure you understand?’
‘I see. You need British assistance.’
‘Exactly. Our agents may not speak such fluent English as you do. They may need some help; some reassurance perhaps. Or even just the opportunity to speak to someone who is familiar with both languages and cultures and who shares their love of the Fatherland.’
She felt trapped. ‘I would have no hesitation in helping any stranger who needed it, whether they were German or any other nationality.’
Eicke gave a long sigh. ‘Yes, true, I am sure you would. Nevertheless, if there should be a war, would you help our cause? In fact, Frau Richter, exactly where would your loyalties lie?’
This question had been at the forefront of her mind many times over the last few months, and she had gone to great pains to avoid answering it. She turned away from Herr Eicke in an attempt to compose herself.
‘Why would Germany be at war with Britain?’
‘We have no intention of being at war with our friends, of course.’ Herr Eicke began to walk up and down the room, staring at his feet awkwardly. When he looked up, his eyes seemed to pierce through to Hilda’s heart. ‘Should it come to war, you realise the Gestapo has to secure its borders.’
‘Naturally. That makes sense. Herr Eicke, I think you have a lively mind. You seem to enjoy playing games. Britain has no land borders, you realise?’
He seemed annoyed at her attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Then let me make myself clearer, Frau Richter. Your sister-in-law Renate and her husband Karl, Otto’s guardians. We don’t want any weakness there, do we?’
She looked down at her hands and found them so tightly clasped together that her knuckles were white. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead and nipped her eyes as they ran down. Why was he mentioning her brother and sister-in-law? She took out her handkerchief and dabbed her running sweat.
‘Most loyal Germans are keen to attend rallies when the opportunity arises,’ he went on. ‘I think I can say quite confidently that neither Karl nor Renate Richter have ever attended such grand occasions.’ He paused to allow her to absorb his allegations. ‘They may have to be given some… encouragement… perhaps?’
‘And just what do you mean by that?’ she asked, placing a defiant fist on her hip.
‘Times are changing. Everyone must change with them, everybody, with no exception, including Karl and Renate. We must all support and serve the Fuehrer.’
She was incensed. ‘Karl and Renate do support him, as does Otto as you know. Karl is a busy dentist and his wife is his secretary. They work long hours.’
‘It’s my job to mend the cracks, Frau Richter. You don’t see them, do you?’
‘I only see what is right.’