Ambassador Leskov struck a coin on a glass. He immediately got our attention.
‘Forgive me. There is just one more announcement to make. How could I have forgotten?’ The guests stared at each other, wondering what was on his mind.
‘I wish to inform you that Robert Harvie has been promoted and will forthwith be located in Bolivia. His fiancée will join him after they are married in Scotland.’
Thunderous applause resounded for some time. After all, the Russian ambassador had found an excellent agent and was ready to exploit him further.
The brass band had had their break and they struck up some strangely familiar Scottish airs. I suspected some of the band had been schooled at Mons, or at Sandhurst and had memories of celebrating Burn’s Night in the barracks.
We danced on the lawn in each other’s arms and Morag whispered in my ear. ‘I don’t like their plans for you Robert.’
I buried my face in her hair as eyes turned discreetly away from the loving couple. ‘Nor do I, but my plan is being thought through.’
Chapter 23
Planning Political Asylum
My information about the British embassy staff car scam had gone down well. So, I was encouraged to get to the Labadi beach club more often and mix freely, which I did. I had to be seen keeping up my espionage to my host’s satisfaction. In fact, I was now at the club four days a week. It was a time of freedom. I knew there were no listening devices there, and it was an excellent place to meet ‘normal’ people and keep fit.
A man approached the table where I was nursing a cool Club beer. I smiled at him and he drew back a chair.
‘Hi, I’m Ralph. Ralph Owens and you?’
‘’I’m Ewan Shankland. Been here long?’ I asked—the usual question.
‘Coming up two years,’ he said. I knew he was trying to identify me.
‘So where do you earn your cedis?’ I asked, smiling.
‘British High Commission.’
I had to think quickly, take a chance? Now or never—time was running out. My palms were sweating and I felt a panic in my heart. My plan was materialising right before my eyes. ‘So where are you on the ladder of progress?’ I asked to see where he stood in the ranks.
‘Third Secretary. Two off the top but I hope to make progress as long as I don’t blot my copybook,’ he laughed and clicked his fingers at a passing waiter. A Guinness was ordered.
‘And you? Let me guess. Banker?’
‘No, you’d never guess.’
‘Okay, then I won’t try.’
I took a deep breath.
‘I’m a Soviet agent, wanting to defect.’
Ralph laughed loudly—till he saw my sad expression.
A silence grew. His Guinness arrived. He put his lips to the glass and his eyes focused on mine.
‘But you are Scottish aren’t you?’
I nodded. ‘Would it be possible to speak to your ambassador?’
He held his glass in both hands. ‘Maybe.’ His face turned serious. ‘It depends how much you can tell me here and now.’
I asked if he had an hour to spare so my story could be laid bare.
‘I’ve all afternoon, and it looks like overtime for me,’ he said rubbing his hands together.
So I told him how I fell into the clutches of the Soviets, and how the chocolate’s I delivered in Sandema killed a traitor to their cause and four African children. I also warned him that the Russians knew about how the diplomatic car scheme was being exploited by his own staff. He took considerable interest in that.
‘Tell me again, how did you find that out?’
And I told him. He could see the honesty in my eyes as I began to reveal myself. It made him uncomfortable. He shifted from one buttock to the other. I could see he was ill at ease.
‘So it’s all about choosing the correct timing. I want my fiancée back in the UK before I make my move,’ I told him.
‘When is she leaving?’
‘Next Friday.’
‘So you are looking for political asylum?’
‘Exactly and I’ll spill the beans on the Russians in Ghana and London too,’ I said making an offer he could not refuse.
‘What time is her flight?’
‘It’s a midday flight to London, then a hop up to Glasgow.’
‘I see. Could you be at the British Embassy by 1:30 pm after she has flown?’
Chapter 24
Asylum Denied – Morag Flies Home
That night I went to see Morag. She told me how much she had enjoyed the last six weeks, and how she was looking forward to getting home to show her parents her engagement ring.
‘But how long will it be before you come home?’ she asked.
‘I’ve made some progress there,’ I began.
‘Not flying home from Bolivia then?’
I patted her arm playfully. I shook my head. ‘If I play my cards right I’ll be home a few days after you.’
‘You seem confident.’
‘I suppose I am. I have a golden bullet for the British Embassy. I think they’ll like what I have to say.’
Morag dropped her head at a rakish angle and raised her eyes in a teasing manner. ‘Normality is all I want. A stable life—to have a family one day. Is that too much to expect?’
‘Trust me Morag,’ I said.
She looked at her watch. ‘Do you have to be home tonight?’
‘No, they think I’m making myself useful.’
‘I’d prefer you were making yourself useful to me.’
She kicked off her shoes, grabbed my T-shirt and we flopped onto the bed.
Morag’s departure day arrived and I was there to help her do her final packing. What seemed like a multitude of medical professionals called at her room that morning. I realised if I had not already, that she had been made very welcome, been enthusiastic in her work and become popular with the staff.
The hospital paid for a taxi to the airport. In the backseat, Morag tapped my bag. ‘What have you got in there?’
‘Essentials. I’ll need them tonight.’
Fear gripped her. ‘Darling, do be careful.’
I hoped a reassuring smile would placate her, but we both felt our separation looming and neither of us could be certain when we would meet again. Separation would be even more painful now that we were engaged.
Caledonian Airways efficiently sent her baggage through the lines then we loitered in the departure lounge holding hands. The heat of the day was at its peak outside, but inside, the high fans gave some considerable relief. They resembled the propellers of older aircraft – wafting a steady flow of cool air. I held my anxiety in check, doing my best to hide it from Morag.
‘Give me a call as soon as you land in the UK, won’t you?’ she asked.
‘Don’t worry, of course, I will—I hope sooner than you expect.’
Small talk and sentiments of mutual love were expressed until Morag’s flight was called. It heightened my anxiety further and sweat began to form on my brow, I wiped it off with my handkerchief. No sooner than the handkerchief was out of sight than Morag gave me a hugging clenched kiss. I held her tightly for as long as I could. The second call for the flight was announced and we let go of each other.
I stood and watched her disappear and I was all alone once more. It gave me the impetus to sort out my situation.
I left the airport and hailed a taxi.
‘Osu R.E. please, British High Commission.’