‘Yes, but what else do you suggest?’
‘I don’t think you’ll discover much outside this aerodrome. If there is anything, it’s here.’
I pondered this for a moment. But though I started to try and reason it out, I knew instinctively that she was right. If this were one of the ‘dromes to be attacked then the whole plan was here to be unravelled on the spot. And suddenly I had an idea. It was not a brilliant one. But it did constitute some sort of action — and it was action I needed. ‘Can you find out whether Vayle is going to be in this evening?’ I asked. And then I stopped. ‘No. That’s asking too much. You’re involved enough as it is.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said. ‘I’m as interested as you are. But what did you think of doing?’
‘I understand he lives over the Educational Institute. That’s right, isn’t it?’ And when she nodded, I said: ‘I was thinking I might have a look through his rooms. I mean, it seems the only thing to do. Probably I shouldn’t find anything, but — ‘ My voice trailed off. It seemed such a hopeless thing to do.
‘That’s rather dangerous, isn’t it?’
I was pleased at her concern. ‘Can you suggest anything else?’ I asked. ‘I’ve got to do something positive. I can’t just sit around waiting for something to turn up. It’s just a chance and I can’t think of anything else.’
‘He obviously wouldn’t leave anything incriminating about.’
‘No, but there might just possibly be something there that would make sense to me.’
‘I shudder to think what would happen if you were caught. You’d be charged with stealing, you know.’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘What’s it matter?’ I said. ‘Tomorrow a bomb may land on this pit and blow us into little bits. Anyway, I hear there’s a waiting list for the Glasshouse.’ I was very conscious of the fact that she hadn’t vetoed it as useless. ‘If you can find out his movements, I think I’ll have a shot at it,’ I said.
She seemed on the point of raising some objection. But all she said was: ‘I’ll do my best. I’m on duly at eight. If I find that he’s going to be out, I’ll stroll up as far as your pit before going into Ops. If I can’t find out anything, or if I find he may be in, I won’t come. It might be thought rather odd if we were seen talking to each other twice in one day.’
‘Good idea,’ I said. ‘I’ll be watching for you. It’s sweet of you to do all this.’
She smiled. ‘Good luck!’ she said. ‘And don’t forget to let me know what happens.’
I stayed a moment watching her slim figure walking down the roadway. She didn’t look back, and I turned and went into the hut with a queer feeling of having burned my boats. I found myself hoping that she wouldn’t discover that Vayle was going to be out that night. Otherwise I was committed to an escapade that might seriously affect my life for the next few months.
The hut was seething with argument about food. John Langdon had come back from the orderly room with the news that as from lunch that day the three-inch teams would feed on their sites, the food being brought out in hay-boxes by the troop van. Most people seemed against the new arrangement. Partly it was the usual conservatism. Partly it was the prospect of being confined even more than before to the site. This was my own objection. But then my case was peculiar. It meant that I could only get away from the site to wash. Normally, however, I should have welcomed it, as I hated the queuing for food and the hurried, crowded eating that was inevitable in the over-full mess.
‘Soon we’ll be confined entirely to the site like Hanson here,’ said Chetwood.
‘With a well-meaning old dear coming round with a canteen twice a week to dispense tea.’
‘But do you mean to say, John, that we’ve just got to hang around here until the van comes along with the food?’ said Kan. ‘It’s absolutely fantastic. It’s bad enough in the mess. But getting the stuff half cold will make it quite impossible. I shall just go down to the mess as before. I mean, it’s frightful being stuck up here for meals as well.’
‘No, you can’t do that,’ said Langdon. ‘It’s a good idea really. It means we can all get food without leaving the site only half manned.’
So the argument went back and forth. It was so delightfully mundane, by comparison with my own thoughts, that I enjoyed it. And when the lunch actually did arrive, everyone found it much better than they expected. It came with a table and benches and masses of plates. What is more, it was hot.
Pleasantly full, I lay back on my bed to smoke a cigarette. For the moment I felt at peace with the world — tired and relaxed. God! how quickly that fleeting mood was shattered.
I had barely finished my cigarette when Mason came in. He fluttered some papers in his hands. ‘New aerodrome passes for old,’ he said.
They were the new passes issued to make it more difficult for unauthorised persons to gain entrance to the ‘drome. Our old ones had to be handed in in exchange. I took my Army pay-book out of my battle dress, which was lying on top of my suitcase beside my bed. From a pocket at the back I drew out my old pass. As I did so another folded slip of paper fell to the ground. I bent down from the bed and picked it up. Curious to know what it was, since I could not remember having put it there, I opened it.
When I saw what it was a cold shock of horror ran through me. Had it been my death warrant I could not have felt more frightened. I stared at it, stupefied. It was strange. That single sheet of paper with the two clear-cut creases where it had been folded was so completely damning.
Chapter Five
‘Hallo, what have you found?’ A quick movement of my hand turned the paper face downwards. The action was automatic, secretive. I glanced up. I felt that my very movement betrayed me. It was furtive. Chetwood was standing over me. ‘Just a letter,’ I said hurriedly.
As I said it, I knew even my own voice betrayed me. It was too hurried.
‘Funny sort of letter,’ he said.
I opened my mouth to make some explanation about an old diagram. Then I shut it. Thank God I had that much sense. He could think what he liked. I gazed up at him, hot and tense. He seemed on the point of making some further remark. But Mason came up and asked for his old pass, and he forgot about it.
I handed in my old pass and was given my new one in exchange. I folded it and slipped it into the pocket of my Army pay-book. And all the time the crumpled paper in my hand seemed to burn my flesh. I felt every eye in the room must be watching me. Yet when I stole a quick glance round everyone seemed busy examining and putting away the new passes, and Chetwood was hanging up his battle dress.
I got up as nonchalantly as I could and went out to the lavatory at the back of the hut. I was conscious of each movement of my tensed limbs. I felt they must be watching me. In the seclusion of the lavatory I smoothed out that wretched piece of paper and examined it once again with the aid of a match.
There was the landing ground with the criss-cross of the runways — the hangars, mess, quarters, gun-sites, everything was marked. It was neatly drawn in common blue ink. Everything of interest to the enemy was indicated in fine hand print, even to the field telephone wiring and ammunition stores at gun sites and at the armoury. The information was precise and the drawing accurate. In view of the fact that such a document had recently been found in an agent’s hands, it would have meant that if I had been searched weeks of interrogation would have followed.
I felt sick at the thought of what I should have had to face if I had not discovered it in time. And it was with a sense of immense relief that I watched the flames consume it as I set a match to it.
But the sense of relief did not last long, and I sat there in a state of numbed fear at the thought of what it meant. For it meant, of course, that I was a marked man.