Operation Kingfisher (5 page)

Bernard was halfway out of the cabin. He looked back.

‘Marie, perhaps … Philippe’s things…?’

In the pause that followed, Christine sensed an unspoken tension.

Then Marie said, ‘Yes, you’re right, of course. Excuse me.…’

Luke moved aside and she passed him, and went into the sleeping cabin, where she opened a locker and lifted out some carefully folded garments.

‘These belong … belonged to our son, Philippe. He was called up at the beginning of the war and we haven’t heard anything from him since the capitulation. We can only presume that he was killed when the Germans attacked. I don’t know why I’ve kept them, really, but they might just fit you.’

Luke said uncomfortably, ‘It’s very good of you, Madame, but I don’t want to … to presume on your kindness. Your son may come back, after all. He could be a prisoner … or he could even have escaped to England. I know a lot of French troops were evacuated from Dunkirk, along with our own … I mean, the British.’

She gave him a small smile.

‘It’s possible, but if he was alive, I’m sure he would have found a way to contact us. Anyway, he doesn’t need these things now. I’m sure he would want you to make use of them. They’re not smart, like your own clothes, but perhaps they are more suitable. After all, it may be necessary for you to pass as a
batelier
, like us.’

‘You mean, the Nazis do carry out checks, sometimes?’ Christine said.

‘It’s very rare, on this section of the canal. But when we go through locks, someone might see you, and it would be obvious that you don’t belong. The lock-keepers are our friends, but you never know who else is hanging around.’

Christine watched her brother sort through the pile and select a well-worn pair of trousers and a sweater. She was uncomfortable in the baggy overall and longed for the slacks she had always worn at home.

‘Don’t you think that applies to me, too, Madame?’ she queried. ‘I don’t suppose there is anything of your son’s that would fit me, is there?’

‘You? But these are men’s clothes.’

Luke grinned.

‘Oh, she won’t mind that. She’s always preferred trousers to skirts.’

Marie looked doubtful.

‘I don’t know.… There are one or two things Philippe had grown out of. If you really would feel more comfortable, you’re welcome to see if there is anything that would fit. He was a skinny lad as a youngster.’

Christine hunted through the pile and discovered a pair of overalls. With the bottoms turned up and a belt round the waist, they were wearable and a loose sweater covered the top. In ten minutes, they were both dressed and, when they went up on deck, Bernard greeted them with a loud laugh.

‘So, I have two new crew members! Welcome aboard!’

All day, the
Bourdon
chugged peacefully through the countryside. They saw no German uniforms and the only aircraft passed high overhead, as unthreatening as the birds. From time to time, they passed other boats and the crews exchanged cheerful greetings. Christine was aware of curious glances, particularly when they passed through locks, but no one asked who she was or why she was on board.

As the day went on, she was increasingly aware that they had been extremely lucky to take shelter in this particular barge. That night she and Luke slept in the main cabin, on the benches which served as seats during the day, lulled by the slap of water against the hull.

Around noon the next day, they came to a junction between two canals. Bernard came up from the engine room.

‘Normally we would turn left here and go straight up the Canal Latéral. But we’ll make a diversion and go through the lock and over the aqueduct into Digoin. It will give Marie a chance to stock up on supplies and I’ll have a chat to the other skippers and find out if anyone is going up the other way. But it might be a good idea for you two to stay out of sight in the cabin while we’re in port.’

Sitting side by side in the cabin, they heard the sounds of the barge passing through a lock and glimpsed through the windows the rails of the aqueduct and the river Loire below. They listened tensely to the noises of voices calling from the barge to the quayside and felt the gentle jolt as they moored. The engine stopped and for a while, they could not tell what was happening outside. Then Bernard came into the cabin.

‘I’m going to have a nose round. I’ll see what boats are in and if any are loading cargo to go up to Chalon. If they are, I’ll put out some feelers to see if anyone might be willing to take you.’

‘Please don’t take any risks for our sake,’ Luke said.

Bernard smiled. ‘Don’t worry. There may be some who don’t want to get involved but no one would shop us to the
Boche
. Their lives wouldn’t be worth living if they did. We stick together, we
bateliers
.’

Shortly after that, Marie looked in to say she was going to market.

‘Do you have a ration card, Christine? I know Luke has lost his.’

Christine handed over her card and Luke said unhappily, ‘Look, it’s not fair for you to go short because of me. I feel such a fool for losing my papers.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Marie told him. ‘I know lots of people in the market here. There’s always a bit extra on the side for friends.’

When she had gone, the brother and sister looked at each other. Tied up here with the distant noises of the town, they felt less secure but neither wanted to voice their fears. From time to time, they heard voices close by on the quayside and they both tensed in the anticipation of the thud of boots on deck as the barge was boarded.

Christine said, ‘Maman must be worried about us. She will assume that we’ve got to Montbéliard by now and she must be wondering why she hasn’t heard from Uncle Marcel.’

Luke ran his hand through his hair.

‘
Mon Dieu
! I haven’t even thought about that! We must let her know we’re all right.’

‘How?’ his sister asked. ‘Can we risk trying to find a telephone and calling her?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Bernard told us to stay hidden. But there’s nothing to stop us writing a letter. Marie would post it for us. We needn’t say where we are or how we are travelling. Just a few lines to let her know we’re OK.’

‘Of course! We should have thought of it before. Do you think there’s anything here we could write on?’

‘I don’t like to go rifling through drawers. We’d better wait till Marie gets back.’

‘No, wait! I’ve just remembered something.’ Christine found her coat and rifled through the pockets, to produce a crumpled sheet of lined paper and a pencil. ‘It’s a bit creased, but it’s better than nothing.’

Luke looked at her, laughing.

‘You’re incredible! Is there anything you can’t produce from those pockets?’

‘Well, you never know when you might need to leave a note for someone,’ she said. ‘Now, what shall we say?’

B
ernard returned in the late afternoon. Luke took in the expression on his face.

‘No luck?’

Bernard shook his head.

‘It seems there is no organized escape line coming from the Chalon area. It’s not surprising, of course. Anyone trying to get out of France from there would be heading for the Swiss border, not the Pyrenees. There are three boats in the docks at the moment, all loading cargo for that area, but I’m afraid none of the skippers are willing to take the risk of carrying escapers. Don’t worry! I didn’t tell them I had a couple on board the
Bourdon
. I made out I was sounding them out with a view to establishing another
réseau
to pick up downed aircrew. They won’t blab; they’re not collaborators; just too lily-livered to take the chance.’

Luke looked from him to his sister.

‘Well, it seems as though we’ll have to risk the train after all.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Marie put in. ‘Bernard, suppose they went to Auxerre…?’

Her husband frowned.

‘Well, it’s a thought. But it’s a very long way round to get to Montbéliard.’

‘But the junction with the Canal de Bourgogne is only twenty kilometres or so north of Auxerre, and that canal connects with the Rhône au Rhin at St Jean. That would get them to Montbéliard eventually.’

‘True,’ Bernard agreed. ‘But eventually would be the word. And
we have no idea whether the
réseau
extends in that direction. All we know is that some of our “packages” have been sent on from Auxerre.’

‘It’s worth a try though, isn’t it?’ his wife said. ‘Better than letting them risk the trains without proper papers.’

‘Does that mean we could stay on board the
Bourdon
with you?’ Christine said eagerly.

Marie shook her head.

‘Not all the way, I’m afraid. As we told you, we’re headed for Nevers.’

‘Look,’ Bernard unrolled the map on the table between them. ‘Let me explain. To get to Auxerre you need to go down the Canal du Nivernais. We can take you as far as Decize, which is another two or three days from here. That’s the junction with the Nivernais, but the locks that lead into it are too small to take a barge like this, a
péniche
. The only boats that can use those locks are the
berrichons
, which are much smaller. As far as I know, there are no boats like that which are part of the
réseau
.’

‘So how do your “packages” get to you?’ Luke asked. ‘You said they come from Auxerre.’

‘Yes, that much we know, but nothing else. The
réseau
works on the strict basis that each member only knows the next link in the chain. That way, if the worst happened, we couldn’t reveal any other details. All I can do is introduce you to our contact in Decize and hope that she will be able to send you on your way.’

‘I’m sure Eloise will help,’ Marie said.

‘So, what do you think?’ Bernard asked. ‘Do you want to take your chance with us?’

Luke and Christine looked at each other and saw, without the need for words, that they were in agreement.

‘Yes, please,’ Luke said. ‘I’m sure that’s our best plan.’

Next morning, having taken on fresh supplies and refuelled, the
Bourdon
chugged on her way towards Decize. It seemed spring had arrived quite suddenly, and the trees along the bank were
hazed with green. In the pastures beside the river, cream Charolais cattle grazed contentedly. Ducks paddled out of their way, quacking protests, and occasionally a kingfisher darted across their path in a flash of iridescent blue.

Sitting in the sun beside Luke, Christine said, ‘It’s almost like being on holiday, isn’t it?’

‘Don’t get too complacent,’ he responded. ‘We need to stay alert. There’s no knowing what’s around the next corner.’

The force of his warning was sharply brought home to them not long afterwards. They had passed through a lock some ten minutes earlier when they were overtaken by the lock-keeper’s young son on a bicycle.

‘My father sent me with a message,’ he explained breathlessly to Bernard. ‘He just had a phone call from Jacques Periot at the next lock. The
Boche
are checking every boat that passes through. He thought you should know.’

Bernard thanked the boy, who jumped on his bike and set off back in the direction he had come from. Christine drew closer to Luke, her heart thumping.

‘What do we do now?’

Bernard spoke calmly. ‘You have papers, Christine?’

‘Yes, but Luke doesn’t.’

‘It’s all right,’ Luke said. ‘Let me go ashore. I’ll find a way round and meet you further on.’

‘No. There is a better way. Come with me.’ Bernard led them into the aft cabin and stooped to roll back the piece of worn carpet on the floor. ‘There’s a screwdriver in that locker just above your head, Christine. Pass it to me, please.’

He slid the tool into a small crack in the planking of the floor and, using it as a lever, lifted a trapdoor to reveal a dark space.

‘You will be quite safe down there until we get through the lock, as long as you keep quiet.’

Luke stared down into the hole and shuddered. He had a horror of dark confined spaces. Once, as a child staying with his English grandparents, he had hidden in a wardrobe during a game
of hide and seek, only to discover that it was impossible to open it from inside. His terrified banging had brought his grandmother to the rescue very quickly, but he had never forgotten the panic-inducing claustrophobia. He stepped back, shaking his head.

‘No, really. I’d rather take my chance on land.’

‘If the
Boche
are carrying out a search for someone, there may be road blocks as well. You’ll be much safer here,’ Bernard said. ‘It’s perfectly dry down there and well ventilated, and look, there is even a box for you to sit on.’

Christine knew what was going through her brother’s mind. She went into the other cabin where her coat was hanging, and felt in the pocket.

‘Here, take my torch, so you won’t have to sit in the dark.’

‘All right,’ Bernard said, ‘but don’t use it while the boat is in the lock. We don’t want any light showing through cracks in the planking. Now, in you go. We’ll be there very soon.’

Reluctantly, Luke lowered himself into the space and squatted down on the box. Christine leaned down and gave him a thumbs up.

‘See you in a few minutes.’

Then Bernard replaced the trapdoor and Luke heard the carpet being rolled back over it. He switched on the torch and discovered that the space was not as small as he had imagined. It stretched the full width of the barge, to the ribs that formed the hull, and was cut off fore and aft by wooden partitions. He realized that it had been specially constructed to conceal fugitives being passed down the escape line in case of emergency, and it gave him some comfort to reflect that none of them had been discovered. If they had been, Bernard and Marie would be in a German prison, or worse. He switched the torch off and made himself breathe slowly and deeply. With any luck he would not be down here for long.

Up on deck Bernard turned to Christine.

‘Right. Your mother is a distant cousin of Marie’s. You are travelling with us because you’ve been ill and you are convalescing.
No, perhaps not. You don’t look as if you have ever had a day’s illness in your life. Perhaps your mother is ill?’

‘Then why aren’t I looking after her?’

‘Perhaps,’ Marie suggested, ‘you and she are not seeing eye to eye about something. Maybe there is a boy she doesn’t approve of? She thought a change of scene would be good for you. Will that do?’

‘Excellent!’ Bernard said. ‘As long as we all stick to that, we shouldn’t have any trouble.’

The barge rounded a bend in the canal and the next lock came into sight. The gates were open on the side from which they were approaching, and a barge similar to the
Bourdon
was tied up inside. Two German soldiers were in the hold, throwing the cargo, which seemed to consist of sacks of cement, out onto the lockside; while a third stood guard over a man and a woman, presumably the boat’s owners.

‘It’s Jean and Louise,’ Marie said. ‘Poor things! What a mess!’

‘Well, whatever the
Boche
are looking for, they won’t find anything on that boat,’ Bernard remarked. ‘I’ve never known Jean take the smallest risk. He’s too intent on saving his own skin.’

Christine felt her bowels turning to water. ‘If they search us like that…. We should have let Luke go overland like he wanted to.’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Marie said firmly. ‘All we have to do is behave naturally. Now, grab that stern line and tie us up. We’ll have to wait out here until they’ve finished.’

The barge bumped gently against the side of the canal, and Christine did as she had been told. A fourth soldier, with a sergeant’s stripes on his sleeve, came out of the cabin on the other boat and said something in German to the two in the hold. They left the remainder of the cargo and climbed out and, when the sergeant gestured towards the
Bourdon
, they headed in their direction.

‘Oi!’ The man identified as Jean yelled after them. ‘What about this lot? It’ll take me all day to reload.’

‘Better get started then,’ the sergeant shouted over his shoulder as he followed his men.

Bernard had joined Marie and Christine on the small after-deck and the German balanced on the gunwale and looked down at them.

‘Papers?’

Bernard handed over his identity card and Marie’s. The German glanced at them, looked from face to face to check that they matched the photographs, and handed them back. He looked at Christine.

‘You?’

Heart pounding, she offered her card. He looked it over and then returned his gaze to her. ‘St Amant? Where’s that?’ He spoke French with a heavy German accent.

‘Auvergne.’ Her voice came out as a croak and she had to swallow hard to clear her throat.

‘What are you doing on this barge?’

Words deserted her and she could only stare at him mutely.

Marie filled the silence. ‘Her mother is a distant cousin of mine. She felt it would be good for Christine to have a break – you know, a change of scene.’

The German looked Christine over and gave a half smile. ‘She doesn’t have much to say for herself.’

Marie shrugged and smiled in return.

‘Oh well, you know – teenagers! You must have been one yourself not so long ago.’

He grunted. ‘I had better manners. No wonder her mother needed a break.’ He looked around. ‘Anyone else on board?’

‘No, just the three of us,’ Bernard replied.

‘I’ll just make sure of that.’

He stepped down and went into the cabin. Christine could hardly breathe. He went through into the sleeping compartment and she tried desperately to send a message by telepathy to Luke. ‘
Don’t move! Don’t make a sound
!’ Then she remembered with a shock of anguish that she had left his good clothes, now dry and brushed clean, lying folded on the end of the bed. A moment later the German sergeant appeared at the door leading to the after deck, with the clothes in his arms.

‘No one else, eh? I don’t think these would fit you, Monsieur.’

Christine saw that Bernard was at a loss, but Marie spoke up at once. ‘Those belong … belonged to my son. He was killed in the fighting at the beginning of the war. I got them out to give to the lock-keeper’s wife. She has a boy they might fit. But now …’ her voice broke, ‘I don’t think I can bear to part with them after all. I expect you have a mother back in Germany, Sergeant, who would feel the same if anything happened to you.’

Watching the German’s face, Christine saw the military mask slip for a moment to reveal the young man beneath. He cleared his throat and returned the clothes to their place without further comment.

Bernard was instructed to pull back the tarpaulin covering the hold and the German made a cursory inspection of the cargo, then climbed back onto the bank, where his subordinates were sitting on bollards enjoying the sunshine.

‘All right, you can go.’

‘We can’t go anywhere until the lock is empty,’ Bernard pointed out.

In the lock, the owner of the other barge was still heaving sacks of cement back on board. The sergeant shouted at his men in German and they scrambled to their feet and trotted back to help.

‘I’ll give them a hand,’ Bernard said, and followed.

Crouched in the dark beneath the floor of the cabin, Luke had no means of knowing what was going on. He felt the gentle bump as the barge came alongside but, although he strained his ears, he could hear nothing except the slap of water against the hull. The time stretched out and still there was no sign of movement. The thought crossed his mind that Bernard and Marie and Christine might have been arrested, or taken away for questioning. In that case, no one would know he was down here. He could stay here for hours, days even. He was not sure whether he could lift the hatch from underneath. He wondered if he should risk trying.

Then suddenly there were footsteps above his head and his heart pounded with alarm. He imagined the hatch being raised, a German face looking down at him, a German gun pointed at his head. Then the footsteps went away and the silence enveloped him again.

At length, after what felt like an hour, the engine restarted and he felt the barge moving forward and then coming to a standstill again. The sound of the water against the hull changed and he felt himself sinking. For a moment he panicked, then logic took over; the lock was emptying. They must be ready to leave.

At last he heard the engine start and felt that they were moving, but it still seemed a long time before he heard the carpet being rolled back and the hatch was raised. Bernard leaned in and held out a hand to pull him up and, as soon as he was on his feet, Christine threw her arms around him in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

‘Thank God! You’re safe. I was terrified he was going to find you.’

He hugged her.

‘So was I! But you’re the one I should have been worried about. Did he ask any awkward questions?’

‘He wanted to know what I was doing on the boat, but Marie said I was her cousin’s daughter.’ She looked around. ‘She was wonderful. The German found your clothes and she pretended they belonged to her son. You should have been an actress, Marie!’