Stranger at the Gates (22 page)

‘I have a responsibility to the village,' Jean de Bernard said. ‘I must see if there's anything I can do. No harm will come to Louise and the children.' He kissed Louise on the cheek; she started to say something in support of Savage, but he left the room too quickly.

‘He's a fool,' Savage said. ‘He shouldn't draw attention to himself. They haven't wasted any time!' It was the usual German practice to take hostages and shoot them in reprisal for acts of sabotage. The going rate in human life was one hundred French for a single German soldier. He didn't say anything about it to Louise.

‘You can't get out!' she said. ‘Don't you realise, they've closed the roads—you're trapped here!'

‘If the Mayor's right,' Savage said calmly, ‘and I expect he is …'

‘I hate that man,' she burst out. ‘Crawling round the Germans from the day they arrived—now he sees what they're really like! And he comes running here, whining for help … You don't think they'll arrest Jean?' She turned to Savage and the anguish on her face surprised him.

‘I don't know,' he said. ‘I don't know what they'll do. My guess is that they'll pay us a visit here pretty soon. You'll need to keep your nerve, Louise. If they see any sign of cracking, they'll have you down to their headquarters. You know your story and all you have to do is stick to it. Don't worry about what I say or Jean says—just keep to your own line.'

‘But you can't stay here,' she protested. ‘You've got to get away before they come round asking questions! Can't you make contact with London—what can you do?'

‘I can radio them,' Savage said. ‘If the routes are all closed I can ask for a pick-up plane. That was part of the deal. It's bloody risky but it may be the only way.'

‘You should have gone last night,' Louise said. ‘Now you're trapped here … Oh my God!'

‘I couldn't do that,' Savage said. He came and caught her by the shoulders. ‘For Christ's sake, I wanted to go normally, catching the early train. If I just disappeared after what had happened, don't you think Minden would have seen the connection? He may be in love with you, but don't think he'd hesitate to turn you in! It's my bad luck they acted so quickly. They must have discovered it very early this morning.'

‘If they arrest you …' Louise whispered.

‘They won't,' Savage said quickly. ‘I'll put a call through to London for a pick-up.'

‘They can't land here, it's madness,' she protested. ‘The plane will be shot down!'

‘You'd be surprised,' he told her, ‘how many times we've landed people on a field not far from here. It can be done. Don't be afraid.'

‘I'm so frightened I feel quite numb,' she said. ‘Numb and sick. Aren't you afraid?'

‘Not for myself,' Savage answered. ‘I've done my job. I'm satisfied. If they catch me I'll swallow my L pill and that's the end of it. But you're different. Your husband's a man, he can take care of himself. But I don't want anything to happen to you. I was thinking about it last night. Get on the plane with me. Come to England.'

‘I couldn't,' Louise said. ‘You know that—the children …'

‘They'll be all right,' he insisted. ‘It's only a matter of a week or so before the invasion. You can come back to them afterwards. We'll smash the bastards back to the Rhine. They'll be all right till then.'

‘No.' She shook her head. ‘No, I could never do that. I couldn't leave them behind.'

‘I'm not sure you'll hold together,' Savage said. He held her against him. ‘If you show any sign …'

‘I won't,' she said. ‘I'll hold together. I promise you that. I won't break down.'

‘I love you,' Savage said. ‘I'm trying to tell you so. This marriage is over; we could be together. If you won't come back with me, then I'm coming back for you. I want you to know that. We'll take the kids to the States. Kiss me.' His mouth was warm; she felt the strength of his arms around her and for the brief moments while they stood together, fear receded. Escape offered itself, not the flight back to England, leaving her family behind, but the escape of losing herself with him, of letting his desire control them both. I love him … The knowledge overcame her, impossible to deny. I love him and, oh God, how I want to be loved by him while we have the chance … She never knew what made her think of Jean de Bernard at that moment. He came unwanted into her mind; the grey in his hair and the lines of worry round his eyes, going down to face the Gestapo in the village. Abruptly she pulled herself away from Savage.

‘When do you think Jean will come back? How long has he been gone?'

‘About an hour,' Savage said. ‘If he doesn't come back soon it won't look very good. You care about him, don't you?'

‘He's my husband,' she said. ‘It's not just the children; I couldn't walk out on him now either.'

‘I see,' Savage nodded. ‘How about afterwards—when the war's over?'

‘That would be different,' Louise said. ‘If we get through this, I would feel free to go with you. If you still wanted me.'

‘I'll want you,' Savage said. ‘Make no mistake.'

It was late afternoon when Jean de Bernard came back to the Château. Louise and the children were at the front door to meet him; Paul, whose ears were tuned for engines, heard the car first. Jean kissed them both. Louise tried to question him with her eyes, unable to speak before the children, but he only shook his head. Louise watched him playing with them for half an hour, listening to their tales of what they had done at school, one balanced on each knee. He looked from one to the other, smiling and calm, the Papa that they expected to find when they came home. ‘We saw a lot of soldiers,' Paul informed him. ‘They were in black, with skull and crossbones on their caps. We waved to them but they didn't wave back. Why are there so many of them?'

‘I don't know,' Jean said. ‘Perhaps they're going on manœuvres.'

‘I wish I could watch them,' Paul said. ‘I'm going to be a soldier and have a skeleton on my cap.'

When they had gone upstairs to see their grandfather, Jean de Bernard sank back in the chair; he looked old and exhausted.

‘The Death's Head Battalion, that's what they've brought in here,' he said. ‘The execution squads. Louise, would you get me a drink, please? I waited three hours in the Mairie to see the officer in charge. I'm very tired.'

She got up immediately and brought him some of Minden's cognac. ‘Drink it down,' she said. ‘Oh my God, Jean, what's going to happen, what did you find out?'

‘Nothing. When he did see me, he just took down my name and told me the whole area was under curfew and S.S. authority. I asked him what had happened—what was the reason for it. He just looked at me. Then he shouted, “Sabotage and murder. Assisting enemy agents. You'll learn what it means to touch German lives and property. You'll pay for it round here, I can promise you that!”'

‘He didn't question you?'

‘No. He was in charge of the military operation. The questioning will be done by others; professionals. That cognac was good. Thank you. You know it was curious today. I watched those swine taking over the village, I saw the people's faces, white with fear; Camier gibbering like an old woman, and I thought this is what I tried to stop. This is what I've been afraid would happen for four years, and now it has. And I helped to bring it about. I brought the Gestapo here in the end. Ironic, isn't it?'

‘
I
brought them,' Louise said slowly. ‘It's not your fault. What do you think they'll do?'

‘Try to find the saboteur. They were already searching the houses when I left. Then they'll make arrests. Hundreds of men, I imagine. And then they'll shoot them unless the agent is denounced to them. That's what they usually do.'

There was silence between them; he held his hand over his eyes, shielding them and Louise didn't move. When she did speak her voice trembled. ‘These hostages—they won't take you, will they?'

‘They may.' He spoke calmly. ‘Poor Camier is certain to be chosen; they always take the mayor, the doctor, the priest. After that it's indiscriminate. Don't worry about that. Where is Savage?'

‘I don't know,' she spoke impatiently. ‘I'll go to Major Minden; I'll ask him to protect you …'

‘I'm sure he would,' Jean de Bernard said gently. ‘He's not a bad man. But he has as much influence with the S.S. as I have. He couldn't do anything.'

‘Jean.' She came and knelt beside his chair. She laid her hand on his arm. ‘You won't give Savage up to them?'

‘If I could save the lives of Frenchmen, yes I would,' he said. ‘I'd give myself up with him. But not you. You are the reason I will stand by and see innocent people murdered and do nothing. You and father and the children. We are caught; there's nothing now to do but wait and see what they will do.'

‘You hate me for it, don't you,' Louise said. ‘You blame me for what's going to happen. I can see it on your face.'

‘The gas had to be destroyed. The monster who made it had to be killed.' He put one hand over hers but there was no warmth in it. ‘A million French could have died when the Allies invaded. Nothing can alter that; we did the right thing. But seeing what I saw today, I can't feel anything but horror. Horror for the few hundreds in this area who are going to die because of what we had to do. It may sound stupid and sentimental, but I can't help it. I feel like a murderer.'

There was nothing she could say to him; silence continued.

At last she spoke. ‘When will we know what's going to happen?'

‘By tomorrow—perhaps even tonight. They move very quickly. I wish I could get you and the children away.'

‘Don't, Jean,' she whispered. ‘Nothing can happen to us. You're the one who could be in danger. Roger was right; you shouldn't have gone down and made yourself conspicuous!'

‘That won't make any difference,' he said. ‘There have been de Bernards at St. Blaize for five hundred years. They would know where to find me. You mustn't worry; we have to be brave and calm. It's our only chance now.'

He got up, and stretched; as he crossed the room his step was slow. ‘I'm going upstairs to see Papa.'

Louise lit a cigarette; she was in control of herself again. The effect of fear was to numb, after a time. She felt cold and tired, with a sense of anger spreading under the dread of what was coming. And yet it seemed unreal. Jean talked of people she knew being taken and shot in cold blood: Camier, Father Duval, Doctor Joubert … Intellectually she accepted it, emotionally she resisted. It couldn't happen. Something, somehow, would prevent it. She went and stood by the window, the cigarette in her right hand, watching for the unknown. ‘There have been de Bernards at St. Blaize for five hundred years … they would know where to find me …'

They wouldn't take Jean as a victim. He was a well-known supporter of the Vichy Government and an open advocate of collaboration with the German occupation forces. They wouldn't take him. She rationalised it calmly, unaware that the hand holding the cigarette was shaking and spilling ash on the floor. They wouldn't drag Jean away watched by Paul and Sophie, screaming and struggling to go to their father …

She was still standing there when Savage found her.

‘They're going to take hostages; Jean thinks it will be hundreds of people. People from the village here, from all over the district.'

‘That figures,' Savage said. ‘I warned you in the beginning it was going to be nasty. Don't worry about Jean; I think he's safe enough. His record will protect him.'

‘I wish you could get away tonight,' she said. She turned round suddenly and clung to him. ‘Jean thinks they may come here at any moment. Couldn't you just go into hiding …?'

‘No,' Savage said. ‘Everyone knows I'm here. If I disappear that puts the finger on me, and I'd be flushed out like a rabbit. And where do you think you'd stand—all of you? Forget it; if they come here and ask questions that's okay. I've got answers ready. I've got to clear my escape with Minden tonight. I'm going to make a hell of a fuss about being kept here.'

‘That's him now, I think,' she said. ‘I hear a car.' Savage went on holding her; her back was to the window.

‘No,' he said and his voice was gentle. ‘No, darling, it's not Minden.'

There were two cars, black and long bonneted, with the swastika pennant flying from the radiators. He watched the men in S.S. uniform spring out, and the rear door of the first car open. A tall man with the insignia of a Standartenführer got out and stood looking up at the Château for a moment. The bell began to peal, and someone was hitting the front door with a pistol butt.

‘They've come, haven't they?' She didn't turn to look.

‘Yes,' Savage said. ‘Yes they have. You've got to be a very brave girl.'

Minden was given his clearance to leave the Château Diane at five that evening. He had no work to do, he and his colleagues were helpless, confined to the Château while the laboratory was pumped clear of water.

Late that day a group of Brühl's staff had stood in inches of water, looking at the destruction of their work. The laboratory was a shambles of broken glass, sodden materials, filing cabinets with their drawers open and the contents reduced to pulp. Electrical failure had followed submersion and they were on emergency lighting from a small generator. There was an overpowering smell of chemicals and damp. Gasmasks were worn as a precaution, both by the pumping crew and the staff; they were discarded when the atmosphere was proved unpolluted. This was done by bringing a junior officer's pet dog into the area. The effect of the gas upon animals was as ferocious as upon human beings. The spaniel stood in the water up to its flanks and sniffed unhappily, its brown eyes rolling with fear, but it showed no reaction. Nothing proved the efficiency of water in neutralising Formula XV more than the immunity of the dog. Minden could have wept; one of Brühl's favourite assistants, a man who had worked with him from the start of the project in Auschwitz, stood with his face hidden in a handkerchief, and sobbed. Nobody was allowed to see Brühl; an autopsy was performed inside the Château by the doctor on the staff. The cause of his death hadn't been announced. Secrecy covered everything, and the rumours multiplied. He had been stabbed, shot, poisoned—a dozen different men were said to be arrested—the saboteur had been caught; it was a team of parachutists who were being hunted throughout the countryside; it was the
maquis
group who had been hiding in the Château—Minden heard it all and didn't care. His work was ruined. But more, much more than a sense of personal loss, was the agony of knowing that the war could not be won. In the flood water lapping through the laboratory, he saw the fall of Germany. There was a terrible incongruity about it which numbed him.