‘Who’s that?’ David asked the young fireman.
‘Don’t know, mate. We were just told to bring you here.’ He clapped the side of the truck. ‘Good old Merryweather engine, never lets you down.’ He brought out a packet of cigarettes and passed them round. David took one gratefully.
The military man came over, looming out of the fog. He was in his fifties, with a lined face, black moustache and severe, hard eyes. He wore the uniform of a captain. He looked them over.
‘Are you a real soldier?’ Ben asked.
‘Yes,’ the captain answered brusquely. ‘I’m with Churchill now. Right. All of you in the back of the truck. We need to get you out of here.’ He turned and barked, ‘Fowler, open up!’ The canvas back was pulled aside and a stringy little man in a private’s uniform jumped down, lowered the tailgate and waved them up impatiently. David saw he was carrying a rifle.
David shook the hand of the young fireman. ‘Thank you.’ He looked at the rest of the crew. ‘Thank you all.’ They raised their hands in acknowledgement.
‘Come on,’ the captain said impatiently. ‘We haven’t much time.’
They all climbed in. The truck smelt of sweat and machine oil. The private shone a torch into the back, showing a double row of benches. Another man in private’s uniform sat at the far end, with a rifle across his knees. Next to him was a civilian in a dark jacket, hunched over. David’s heart jumped when he saw it was Frank. Frank’s face lit up and he cried out, ‘It’s true! You’re alive!’
‘No thanks to you,’ the stringy man said grumpily in a Cockney accent. He waved his arm to indicate that David and Ben and Natalia should sit down on the benches. He closed the canvas flap, and the soldier next to Frank leaned over and banged on the back of the cab. There was a little window, giving a view into the front. The driver, another man in military uniform, was already sitting there; the captain got in beside him. The truck started and began moving slowly down the street.
The stringy private played the torch across their faces. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘We’ll get into one of the sidestreets and then you’re all going to change into uniform. We’re going to be a group of soldiers travelling to guard duty at the Jew camp in Dover.’ He turned the beam on Natalia. ‘Except you, miss, they’ll not take you for a soldier if we’re stopped, you’re going to be dropped off and debriefed about today. You’ll rendezvous with the others later.’
‘Where?’ Ben asked.
‘You’ll find out when we get there,’ the soldier next to Frank answered quietly, in a Yorkshire accent. ‘Can’t really say anything more.’ He was a big man, with a wrestler’s build, but his manner was friendlier than his comrade’s.
‘Who are you all?’ David asked. ‘The man in front’s got a captain’s tabs.’
‘Used to be a regular soldier until Churchill left Parliament,’ the Yorkshireman answered. ‘Decided to help him “set Britain ablaze”. Remember that speech?’
‘And you two?’
‘We’re soldiers of the Resistance,’ the Cockney answered, ‘not forces of the Fascist state. We steal army uniforms as well as trucks. Two of the men who brought you here were real firemen, though. That’s their jobs finished, because of this,’ he added reproachfully. ‘They’re on the run now.’
‘So am I, pal,’ Ben said, an edge to his voice. ‘I had a safe job nursing in a loony bin for years till last week. That’s the price of servin’ the cause, eh?’
‘We’re all in it together,’ the Yorkshireman said gently.
The truck halted. They had only travelled a few streets. The thin Cockney shone his torch under the seats; David saw a number of canvas bags there. ‘Right,’ the Cockney said briskly, ‘everybody take a bag, get out and get changed.’
‘I want tae know where we’re going,’ Ben said stubbornly.
The Cockney shone the torch full in his face. ‘Listen, Jock. We lost good people tonight in London, thanks to you lot. So do as you’re fucking told. Now out, all of you.’
They were in a narrow street beside what looked like a small factory. A man was waiting there, a thin man in a bowler hat and a long coat; he looked like a rent collector. He went over to the captain, who had stepped out of the cab, and exchanged a few whispered words. Then he came over to Natalia. ‘You’re to come with me please, miss.’
Natalia glanced at David. She said to the man, ‘Can you give us a few moments?’
He nodded reluctantly. ‘All right. But just a minute.’ David and Natalia stepped away from the others. He said, ‘We – I’m sorry that—’
She smiled. ‘I’m not. How could I be? We’ll meet again soon.’ David looked at the group of soldiers, a dim huddle in the fog. Frank and Ben were changing into army uniform. ‘Will we?’
‘Yes. I’ll see you soon.’ She hesitated. ‘Though from what Eileen said your wife will be joining us.’
David took her hand. ‘Do you know, that was the first time I’ve ever been unfaithful to her?’
Natalia took a deep breath. ‘Then perhaps you were right, and it is over between you?’ She looked uncertain.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The captain came over. ‘You have to leave now, miss,’ he said sternly. ‘And you –’ he gave David a look of disapproval – ‘you have to change into uniform. Now.’
Natalia leaned up and kissed David quickly. ‘Till later,’ she said with a sad smile. She touched his hand briefly, then went over to the man who had come for her. Without another word the two walked away, their shapes instantly swallowed up in the fog.
‘Come on,’ Ben called impatiently. David wondered what the Scotsman thought of him and Natalia; he hadn’t given any sign. Geoff might have disapproved, but Geoff was dead.
They changed quickly into thick, itchy army uniforms. They were all privates now. The uniform felt familiar to David, took him back to 1940. He adjusted his cap and felt in his pocket for the cyanide capsule he had transferred there. They climbed into the back of the truck again and it set off once more, rumbling slowly through the empty streets. Through the window into the cab David looked past the heads of the driver and the captain, outlined against the weak beams of the headlights. The road ahead was full of swirling fog.
‘How are you doing, old friend?’ he asked Frank quietly. He was sitting next to him; he seemed in a daze.
‘All right, I suppose. It’s strange wearing this uniform.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry I ran, David, I broke my promise. But I thought we were going to be captured and I was the only one who didn’t have – you know, a pill.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘A church. The police were coming. This vicar found me. He helped me, got me to the Resistance people, gave me his jacket.’ He was silent again, then he said, ‘I keep thinking about Geoff.’
‘I know. He was a brave friend.’ He glanced at Ben, sitting on his other side. He was frowning.
‘You all right?’ David asked quietly.
‘I just wonder what they’re goin’ tae dae with us,’ Ben whispered. He looked at the Yorkshireman, then asked, ‘Where are we goin’ now?’
‘Out of town, that’s all I know.’
They passed through a busy area, the truck slowing to a crawl, inching along in the fog. Then they speeded up again for a while. Outside the fog seemed to be lifting a little. Then David heard the captain say from the cab, in a tense tone, ‘Here we go.’ Looking into the cab David saw a roadblock ahead, a wooden barrier across the road. The Cockney got up and pushed David aside to watch through the glass panel as the truck pulled to a halt. The Yorkshireman leaned across and tapped Frank on the knee.