David passed the room where Natalia was resting. He heard movement inside. He hesitated, then knocked quietly on the door. She called to him to come in. She was sitting on the side of the mattress, the one he had slept on last night, brushing her hair. She smiled at him.
‘Couldn’t you sleep?’ he asked.
‘No. Usually I can sleep anywhere, but not this evening.’
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.’ David closed the door. ‘You’re right. I will tell people I’m Jewish. But I want my wife to be the first to know.’
Natalia looked at him. ‘Will she be unhappy about it?’
‘I don’t think so. I don’t know. But she’ll care about there being yet another secret, so I want to tell her first.’
‘That sounds – right.’
He shook his head. ‘Ever since our son died – it’s strange, you’d think tragedy would bring people together, but just as often it drives you apart.’
She looked at him seriously. ‘My husband – he had a secret from me, too. I told you he was German Army Intelligence, you remember? The Abwehr?’
‘Yes.’
‘He was posted to England, at the end of 1942; the year we had seen the Jews taken away in the summer. We married just before we left, in Berlin. My brother was not long dead. He was a cipher clerk, at Senate House.’
‘Hasn’t the Abwehr been dissolved? There was talk of some plot to kill Hitler.’
‘Yes. In 1943. I don’t know what sort of Germany the officers would have created –’ she smiled sadly – ‘something old-fashioned and proper, I think, Gustav was a very old-fashioned man.’
‘Was he involved?’
‘Yes. He never got over that time we saw the Jews, on that train. Someone betrayed the plotters, we never knew who. A lot of the Abwehr people were executed. Others who the Nazis weren’t sure of, like Gustav, were sent to the East. To posts they would not return from. There were even suspicions about Rommel, you know, but nothing was proved.’
‘How did you find out your husband was involved?’
‘When he was posted to Russia, I stayed behind. He arranged it.’ She sighed deeply. ‘Then one day, not long after he was killed at the front, in 1945, the Resistance contacted me. That was in their very early days, Churchill was still in Parliament, but he could see what was coming. They had already set up networks of supporters, people who could help with intelligence. And I was working as an interpreter; I met many of the Germans who came here. The Resistance had been in touch with my husband, you see, he was working for them, he had become what you call a double agent. He told them I might help them, if anything happened to him. But while he was alive he never told me. He wanted to protect me, as you wish to protect your wife. I think he also wanted me to know he had opposed the Nazis.’ She looked at David, smiling her sad smile. ‘So, I too know about secrets, brave people with secrets.’
‘And you decided to join the Resistance?’ She’s lived this dangerous life for seven years, he thought.
‘Yes. Because I had nothing left. And I wanted to get back at them. For Gustav, for my broken country, for my brother. And to try and end Europe’s nationalist frenzy. It’s not just vengeance, you know, I want something better, a better world.’
David looked down at the floor. ‘Frank said just now he thinks you understand him. I suppose that’s because of your brother’s problems.’
She nodded, not speaking.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘They’ve taken everything from you, haven’t they?’
He saw tears in her eyes, but she smiled bravely and said, ‘Gustav and I had happy times. My brother Peter and I had good years, too, before the war. Bratislava was a cosmopolitan city then, and we were part of it. We went to university together.’ She sighed. ‘In that pretty old city by the Danube. I am sentimentalizing, it was dirty and poor, too. But in our circles, among our friends, whether you were part Hungarian, part Jew, part Slovak, part German, part Tartar, it didn’t matter. Everyone is part something, you know. In the nineteenth century not having a fixed national identity was perfectly common in Eastern Europe. But then nationalism turned that into a danger.’
David hesitated again, then sat down on the bed beside her. ‘We English think we’re special.’
‘It’s that part of your culture you share with the Germans. The great Imperial nation part. I think in the thirties you thought fascism would never come to Britain; you had been a democracy so long, and you felt, as you said, special. But you were wrong; given the right circumstances fascism can infest any country, feeding off the hatreds and nationalisms that already exist. Nobody is safe.’
‘I know.’
‘We have our own little Fascist leaders in Slovakia. People for whom nationalism is everything.’
‘And your leader is a priest.’
‘Yes. Monsignor Tiso. The ruling party has Fascist sections and Catholic components. The Vatican and the Fascists work together in most of Europe. They both like order. Though when the Jews were taken away, some Catholic priests came out and protested.’ She shook her head in puzzlement. ‘While others said they deserved all they got. My husband Gustav was a Catholic, you know, a good Catholic.’ She turned to him. ‘A good man, like you.’ She hesitated, then laid a hand on his. And this time David responded. He leaned forward and kissed her.
Chapter Forty-Four
SINCE COMING TO SEAN AND EILEEN’S house Frank had, for the first time in over a week, passed hours at a stretch without thinking of death. Sitting with the others, talking to them, he would feel a strange warmth inside, towards these people who were endangering their lives for him. He had been frightened of Sean at first but then he’d apologized for his behaviour, something Frank couldn’t remember anyone ever doing before. That afternoon, playing games in the lounge, he had actually forgotten the constant danger, relaxed a little. After dinner his drugs made him tired and he went upstairs to lie down, dozing off for a while.
A soft knock at the door woke him.
‘Yes?’
The woman, Natalia, came in. Frank smiled at her nervously.
‘How are you?’ she asked.
‘Not so bad.’
She leaned against the wall – weighing him up, Frank thought, though in a friendly way. ‘Things must have been very bad for you,’ she said quietly. ‘Ever since the accident with your brother.’ She hesitated. ‘But trying to run off like you did in that field, that was not right.’
‘I know. It put you all in danger. But I didn’t see how we could escape.’
She smiled and spread her arms. ‘But we are here. And you heard Eileen, there is a submarine waiting to collect us. We are moving closer to safety, Frank, step by step. And already you have changed.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I have watched you, this past week. When we first picked you up from the hospital your walk was slouched; you slumped over. Already it is a little less so. And your speech is more –’ she smiled – ‘direct.’
‘Is it?’ He wanted to believe her, to hope, but it was hard. He changed the subject. ‘Where are you from?’ he asked curiously.
‘I am from Slovakia. It was part of Czechoslovakia once: you remember, the country Mr Chamberlain gave to Hitler.’
‘I was always against appeasement. David and Geoff and I used to talk about it at university.’
She took out a packet of cigarettes. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’
‘Please. Did you escape from your country?’
‘I was lucky. I met a German, a good German. I came to England with him. After he died I decided to help the Resistance.’
‘You must have met Nazis, too. We’re told they’re our friends, but I never thought so.’