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Authors: Elizabeth Buchan

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BOOK: I Can't Begin to Tell You
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Very carefully, Kay placed her crumpled napkin on the table. ‘Did he have any option, Franz?’

‘We are not complete bullies, Kay. He’s a very interesting, extremely brilliant young man, a credit to his parents.’

‘Are you interested in mathematics?’ she asked.

‘Let us say only in its applications,’ he replied.

‘I knew it, Franz …’ Kay sent him a sweet, but treacherous, smile. ‘You are a Renaissance man.’

The phone rang in the hall. It was for the general.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said on his return into the room, ‘but I’ve been summoned to Berlin. I’m afraid Ingrid and I will have to leave before dawn. A plane has been sent to København.’

The evening continued – a slow and heavy endurance test. Eventually, Anton kissed Ingrid’s hand in the most charming fashion, complimented the general on his knowledge of wine and said goodnight to Bror. Kay accompanied him to the front door.

‘Why introduce Nils to him?’ she hissed. ‘What are you doing?’

He pressed her hand meaningfully. ‘I’ve cut the telephone line,’ he said, kissing her cheek.

A little while later Kay and Bror escorted their guests to their bedroom. The Gottfrieds were effusive in their thanks. ‘There’s no need to wake you in the morning,’ said Ingrid charmingly. ‘Franz and I are quite used to early morning getaways.’

Kay led the way back down the corridor.

‘Goodnight,’ said Bror outside the bedroom. He glanced at his shoes, polished to mirror brightness. ‘Thank you.’

‘Goodnight, Bror.’ She watched him walk away.

Kay
awoke with a start. Downstairs there were noises signalling departure, followed by a car moving carefully down the drive. She peered at her clock. It was five a.m. and she sank into exhausted sleep.

Again, she was pulled abruptly back into consciousness. Someone was in the room, searching in her drawers.

‘Tanne!’

Tanne whirled round. ‘Sorry,
Mor
. Didn’t mean to give you a fright. I need some underwear.’ She frowned. ‘You will know why … so inconvenient. I’ve taken some of your things. I thought I shouldn’t risk going to my room if the general was in the guest room.’

‘He’s gone. Thank heavens.’ In a flash, Kay was out of bed. ‘Listen, darling, you can’t be here. The police and an SS officer came looking for you yesterday.’ She searched Tanne’s face. ‘Someone –’

‘Dr Hansen …’ Tanne sat down heavily on the bed. ‘I knew it.’ She clutched her stomach as she confessed what she had done. ‘How stupid I’ve been. How –’

‘No time for that now … Listen to me. Think. Did Hansen know which cottage?’

Tanne exhaled with an audible hiss. ‘Not really. He may have an idea but he was blindfolded. But he didn’t want to know,
Mor
. That’s why I thought we would get away with it.’

Think
.

‘Dr Hansen … if it was him … will have told them it’s one of the cottages on the estate but won’t know which one. That buys time. An hour or so, three at the most, to get Felix up and running. Get back to the cottage and stay there until I can work out how to get you away.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Birgit and Else will be here soon to make breakfast. No one must see you. Understand? I’ve told them you were with cousins and explained to your father that you went to stay with the Federspiels at the last minute. Let’s get you some food.’

So saying, Kay flung on a pair of trousers and a jersey and they
made for the back stairs. In the kitchen, she stoked up the stove, put the kettle on and packed a basket with bread and cheese.

The kettle boiled and Kay made Tanne drink some tea.

Don’t ever pass up the opportunity to eat or drink
.

Tanne had never seemed so beautiful. Or so focused. Or so alive. Or so beloved.

Kay refilled the cup and, pressing Tanne to eat a slice of bread and honey, watched her like a hawk as she did so.

How did resistance work?

Intelligence.

Surprise.

Attack and get out. Never hang around to defend.

‘Tanne, can you memorize this and tell Felix?’ She ran over the conversations with the general – captured agents, the Aarhus archive … ‘The RAF might want to bomb it. Tell Felix, too, that they may have Vinegar. Can you remember that?’

Tanne burst out laughing. ‘
Mor
, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you and I would be doing this.’

‘Don’t make a noise.’ She pulled Tanne to her and kissed the tousled head. ‘You must take care, my darling daughter. You’ll have to live differently now. Be watchful. Ultra careful and discreet. Get yourself to the Federspiels. They’ll look after you. Promise.’

Tanne held up a hand. ‘Listen,’ she whispered.

Vehicles were rolling up the drive.

Kay edged over to the window. This time there was the black car plus a couple of military vehicles. They parked. The doors were opened to release a posse of soldiers with dogs.

A dreadful certainty hardened.

‘You’re blown, Tanne. Leave – now! Never, ever, come back here until the war is over. Get out of Denmark. Go to Sweden. Do you understand?’

Tanne dropped the slice of bread she was holding. ‘It’s my fault.’

Down the passage, Sif and Thor began to howl.


Do
you understand?

Tanne had gone chalk white.

‘Tanne, concentrate.’


Mor
, forgive me.’

Think, Kay.

Wireless set
.

‘Tell Felix I’ll deal with the wireless set. Don’t take it with you.’

Were there any traces of Felix in the attic room?

‘Forgive me …’

‘Go,’ Kay hissed. ‘Get out the side door. Leave the cottage. Felix will know what to do.’


Mor
…’

‘Of course I forgive you.’

Tanne ran.

Kay slipped up the back stairs and into her bedroom, ripped off the trousers and jersey and got into bed.

She had only seconds to spare. Bror was already at the bedroom door. ‘Kay, can you come downstairs?’

No need to hurry. She took her time to put on her dressing gown and to brush her hair. Descending the stairs, she was confronted by
Hauptsturmführer
Buch, Sergeant Wulf and Constable Juncker in the hall and, beyond them in the drive, the men and the dogs.

An enraged Bror was remonstrating with Buch. Looking wretched beyond belief, Sergeant Wulf had distanced himself from the Germans. Bror looked round. ‘There you are. Darling, these men want to search the house.’

The morning sunlight threatened to dazzle every wit Kay possessed. Sif and Thor surged into the hall followed by a goblin-eyed Else, who took one look and bolted up the stairs. Where was Birgit?


Search
the house?’ She frowned. ‘Do they have the authority?’

Outside, the tracker dogs barked and strained at the leashes.
These were dogs which lusted after their quarry. They were dogs that would run fast and fierce.

Sif and Thor joined in. Buch snapped his fingers at them and, to Kay’s astonishment, they quietened. ‘We won’t take up too much of your time.’

‘So I should hope,’ said Bror. ‘I’ve appointments on the farm, and we’re short-handed.’

Buch was a man who could finesse a situation. ‘For those who cooperate with us we are only too happy to supply more workers,
Hr
Eberstern.’ There was a pause. ‘If you are short-handed.’

‘No,’ said Kay sharply, immediately regretting it.
Be boring
.

‘Let me explain again,’ said
Hauptsturmführer
Buch. ‘There has been enemy activity in the area and a terrorist is hiding in the vicinity. He’s wounded and he probably can’t get far. Our intelligence tells us he is on the Rosenlund estate.’ He was polite. He was firm. He was – Kay thought with a touch of hysteria – taking pains to behave like a gentleman. ‘The intelligence couldn’t have been clearer.’

Juncker slapped his thigh with his gloves.

Buch continued, quiet and relentless: ‘We have reason to believe it was your daughter who helped him.’ He gave a polite, wintry smile. ‘Probably out of misplaced pity.’

‘No,’ said Kay. ‘As I told you, she’s with her cousins. They live in Aarhus.’

Mistake?

‘Name,’ demanded Constable Juncker.

Kay gave it.

‘May we use the phone?’

‘If you must.’

Juncker tried it, only to report the line was dead.

‘Oh Lord,’ said Kay. ‘It’s always happening. It’s the mice. They eat through the cables. We’re always having to lay new ones. She appealed to them. ‘Gentlemen, I assure you the reports are incorrect.’

‘Tell
them, Wulf,’ ordered Buch.

‘The doctor says otherwise.’ Sergeant Wulf was reluctant.

‘My daughter helping a terrorist?’ Bror was incredulous.


Fru
Eberstern,
Hr
Eberstern,’ Sergeant Wulf was almost begging them, ‘I’m afraid we must search your daughter’s room.’ He took a look at Bror’s thunderous expression. ‘The sooner you allow me, the sooner this will be over.’

They all trooped upstairs to Tanne’s room and discovered Else cowering inside. ‘I wanted to know if
Frøken
Tanne wished for her tea.’

‘But
Frøken
Tanne is away,’ said Juncker.

‘Oh.’

Tanne’s bed, with an arched wooden bedhead and green and white quilt – green and white were Tanne’s colours – dominated the room. Clothes were heaped on it. Scattered on the floor were books and the dance records that she played on her gramophone. By the window, housed in a Sèvres pot, was the tropical fern which, against the odds, Tanne managed to keep alive.

Kay explained who Else was.

‘Have you seen
Frøken
Eberstern today?’ Buch was brusque.

Else flushed. ‘Yes, no, I mean no. No. It must have been yesterday.’

‘Which?’ Buch took up a position by the window.

Else endeavoured to hide her shaking hands in her apron.

‘Please stop,’ said Kay. ‘At once. This is bullying.’

Hauptsturmführer
Buch signalled to Constable Juncker. ‘Take her down to the station.’

‘No!’ Else’s scream of terror shocked the listeners. ‘Please.’

‘Let me talk to her,’ said Kay. Turning her back on the men, she snatched up one of Else’s hands. ‘Did you see
Frøken
Tanne this morning?’

She pressed down on the clammy fingers.

Else, still a child really, struggled to speak. Her nose was running and Kay offered her a handkerchief.

Else
blew into it. ‘I can’t remember.’ The words were barely audible.

‘We can make you remember,’ said Juncker.

Buch pointed to the chest. ‘Would you mind opening this drawer?’

Kay looked to Bror for back-up. ‘
Hauptsturmführer
Buch, that’s private to my daughter.’

It was useless.

Opening the drawer to reveal Tanne’s delicate lacy things was one of the hardest things she had ever done. Sergeant Wulf endeavoured to calm a hysterical Else. Buch and Juncker searched the room.

Kay was stiff with hatred in a way she never imagined she would ever feel.

Intent on impressing, Juncker exhibited rodent cunning. He opened Tanne’s wardrobe, shuffled the clothes on their hangers and poked at the rows of shoes on the floor. Then, at the back of the cupboard, he unearthed the shoe box and removed the lid. ‘Sir?’

Triumphant, he carried it over to the desk and displayed the contents.

Buch held up the pamphlet. If anything his voice had grown softer. ‘An explanation, please.’

Naturally, Buch didn’t believe Kay when she improvised and told him that they used any old pieces of paper to stuff into wet shoes. ‘Shoes are often wet out here.’

Bror was silent.

She could almost read his thoughts:
My wife. My daughter
.

‘This is seditious, dangerous rubbish. Why didn’t your daughter burn it?’

‘It’s wartime. Probably she found it somewhere and didn’t want to waste valuable paper.’

Constable Juncker spoke into
Hauptsturmführer
Buch’s ear. Buch turned to Bror. ‘I am afraid this confirms we must search the estate.’ He picked up one of Tanne’s sweaters which had been on the bed. ‘I will use this. The dogs will need the scent.’

‘I
haven’t given you permission.’

‘I think you will,’ replied Buch.

Wulf, Buch and Juncker returned downstairs. Orders were issued and the dogs set up renewed barking.

Bror hustled Kay into her bedroom. ‘Where
is
Tanne?’

‘I told you. In Aarhus,’ she replied. ‘Let me get dressed.’

‘Don’t lie to me.’ He was almost too angry to speak. He paced the room. ‘Is Tanne mixed up in something? She is. I sense it. What have
you
done? There must be a reason that some idiotic, but clearly dangerous, German turns up and suggests our daughter is a terrorist, and I think the reason must be you.’

‘This is war. It happens.’

‘Or Anton.’

‘Stop it.’

‘And what has Anton done to the telephone? It was him.’

Anton bought Tanne some time
.

‘Where could Tanne have got hold of that leaflet?’

‘Maybe she’s got views of her own.’

Bror grabbed Kay by the arm. It was a rough, angry gesture and introduced a brand-new element into their relations: hostility. ‘What
are
you?’

‘And what are you, Bror?’

‘You know who I am. You’ve always known.’

‘Aren’t you disgusted by what’s happening to Denmark? Disgusted by the newspapers, the industrialists and businessmen all falling over themselves to accept the German mark? How we collaborate with an occupying force?’ His fingers dug hard into her flesh but she continued. ‘How we entertain German generals?’

‘Tell me what is going on.’

Kay’s resolve wavered. On her back rested the burden of bringing suspicion down onto the house and those that lived in it.

‘Go and get dressed, Bror.’

‘I’m going into Køge to try to sort this out.’

‘Listen
to me, Bror,’ she said, fierce and impassioned. ‘Whatever you think you
must
act normally, as if there is nothing to worry about. We will have breakfast as we always do.’

For a second or two, she thought the appeal had failed. Then he said: ‘If I find out that it’s you who’s put Tanne in danger by involving her in something unwise, I’ll never forgive you.’

BOOK: I Can't Begin to Tell You
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