Voices on the Wind (6 page)

‘Good idea,' Taft said. They gave themselves a generous helping of the precious whisky before they each went to their rooms.

Fred was the hero of the survival course. They were taken out on to the moors, given a meagre basic ration and a compass and told to report back to the main house by four p.m. the following day. They were sixty miles deep into wild countryside, without radio linkage or any knowledge of the terrain. They steered by compass. As if on signal, a tremendous storm broke. The sky blackened as if it was night. Rain swept like scythes, soaking through their waterproof clothes, blinding in its velocity. Thunder exploded and the lightning streaked viciously through inky clouds. There wasn't an inch of shelter on the moors. Then to everyone's surprise it was Fred, the urban dweller, who took command. He huddled them in groups of three, facing inwards against the wind, holding the tarpaulin over themselves as a shield. Their bodies helped to keep the supplies dry and to maintain some kind of warmth. He kept their spirits up by joking.

‘Bloody Walt Disney couldn't do better than this lot – next thing we'll see the Wicked Queen! How's Snow White doing in the corner?' That was to Judy, who was shivering with cold and flinching at the thunderclaps.

‘I'm okay. Sadistic bastards, they
knew
the weather was going to do this!'

‘I'll bet they did,' Fred shouted, above the yelling of the storm. ‘Warming their backsides by the fire and thinking of us!'

When the storm slackened, they began to walk, encouraged by Fred, who set a brisk pace. It would help to dry off, he said. If the clouds lifted, he might get a setting. But the general direction they should take was north east. How did he know, they demanded. Because he'd taken a fix when they left, and that was the rough compass reading. Come on, step it out, he roared, imitating their instructor's buzz-saw voice. At intervals they stopped, rested, used some of their rations. But they walked throughout the night, guided by brief glimpses of the stars through broken clouds. Judy and Gerard, a young Frenchman, paired off, supporting each other. He had a severely blistered foot and she was chilled and exhausted. Kate had no partner. She was soaked and shivering, but otherwise in good heart.

How funny about the little airman. The rock had defeated him, but the vile terrain and blistering cold and darkness didn't worry him at all. It was good to see the comradeship between the weaker and the strong. Judy and Gerard with his raw, bleeding heel … Fred helping another man, who'd complained of a feverish cold before they started out. He'd be lucky to escape pneumonia by the time they got back.

And get back they did, at exactly twenty-two minutes before four o'clock the next afternoon. Judy was in bed for three days, running a temperature. Fred's companion got pleurisy and was taken to hospital. He didn't return to the course. Kate and Fred suffered no ill effects. She could see that Michaelson was disappointed when she came down to breakfast the next morning.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' Michaelson announced. ‘You've been here two and a half months. We've lost one of you through illness. Another redeemed himself after making a fair mess of an exercise.…' Fred turned to Kate and grinned. ‘The rest have done well in some areas of training and badly or fairly in others. We're coming now to the last two weeks of this particular course, and I'm going to hand you over to Mr Finch. Mr Finch will teach all of you the basic principles of unarmed combat, and from there he will show you how to switch from defence to attack. Some of you – Philippe and Judy – have done this before, so you can occupy yourselves by assessing the others and helping Mr Finch with demonstrations. If you feel you need smartening up, he'll put you into a class. I must warn those of you who have no experience of this, that you can get hurt.'

‘He's looking straight at me,' Kate murmured.

‘Miss Fitzgerald, if you have any comment to make, why don't you let us all have the benefit? I'm sure we will all learn something.'

A month ago, Kate thought, I would have sunk through the floor. But not now. I've had enough of your bullying. ‘I said you were looking straight at me, Captain.'

‘How very presumptuous of you.' There was complete silence. Michaelson let it continue and then said abruptly, ‘Now, perhaps we can get on.'

Kate stepped forward, brushing aside Judy's restraining hand on her arm. ‘Captain Michaelson, if you don't think I'm suitable for this course, I wish you'd say so.'

She was surprised to see a red colour creep into his face.

‘I will, at the right time. Which isn't in the middle of my briefing. If you have anything to say, then come and see me in my office at six o'clock.'

‘Thank you,' Kate answered. ‘I'll be glad to.' She turned and went back to her group. She saw a very odd expression on Philippe's face.

Mr Finch appeared later that morning. He was small and slight and unprepossessing, with a broad Yorkshire accent. Track-suited, wearing gym shoes, they were lined up in a row. He looked them over carefully, taking his time. He nodded to Philippe and frowned when he saw Judy. He actually snorted when he came to Fred, who looked painfully skinny out of uniform.

‘I'm here,' he announced, ‘to teach you how to take care of yourselves. And so as I can do it, I'm not going to take care of you, if you see my meaning. Now, let's play a little game, ladies and gents. Let's imagine we're in a dark street with houses either side and nobody about. Right? Right. You, Sir, Mr Gerard, is it? Right, you're walking down this street, minding your own business and someone's laying for you.… Right? Right, come along then, walk past me – you don't see me 'cos I'm hidden in a doorway, right? Right.' The young Frenchman walked past the instructor. Finch moved up and threw an arm lock on him.

‘What do you do now, eh? How do you break this hold – come on, come on, don't be bashful – I'm a German, right? Making an arrest.'

Gerard, a rather taciturn man, who prided himself on his fitness, made a quick and violent movement. Finch changed his stance and threw him very hard indeed on to the stone floor. ‘I can see you've got a lot to learn, Sir, but never mind. I'm here to teach you, right? Anyone else want to try?'

Nobody volunteered. Satisfied, Finch nodded. ‘Right,' he repeated yet again. ‘We'll start with the basics. Mr Philippe, will you step forward and show the ladies and gents how it's done?'

After a hot bath, Kate lay on her bed, lit a cigarette and closed her eyes. She'd learned a lot by watching. Finch had taught her a few simple rules, and she felt she'd mastered them. How to break a stranglehold; how to knee an attacker without knocking him in the thigh instead of the crutch. It was done gently and slowly as part of a general demonstration of technique. She felt he was only waiting for an opportunity to throw someone like the unfortunate Gerard. Judy knocked on the door and came in. ‘The bathroom's free,' she said. ‘I've had mine.'

Kate held out the cigarettes. Judy took one and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked tired, Kate thought, and on edge.

‘Got a light?' She mimicked the maddening voice that had gone through their heads all afternoon.

‘Right? Right! I thought if he said it again I'd go mad and start screaming!'

‘He's a nasty little brute,' Judy murmured. ‘I remember him from my first time. He used a hold on me that nearly broke my bloody arm. He's a right little sadist. You watch out for him.'

‘I will,' Kate said. ‘And talking of sadists, I'm going to have it out with Michaelson tonight.'

‘You made quite a stir this morning.' Judy puffed rapidly at the cigarette.

There's something the matter with her, Kate decided. Maybe it's this little horror, Finch. I'll ask her later. ‘I suppose it was a silly thing to do,' she admitted, ‘but I've had enough of him picking on me for everything. Do you realize he's never said a single word of encouragement from the moment I got here? All he's done is snipe at me, made me feel a perfect fool whenever possible, and try to undermine my confidence. I'm going to ask him why.'

Judy said slowly, ‘He never gives explanations. He has picked on you, Kate, it's been very noticeable. But he doesn't exactly like me either. Trouble is, he can't flunk me, because I'm only on a refresher course. But he'd like to. I think the whole thing has got on top of him. Ever noticed his hands? He shakes like a leaf. My God, it's nearly six – you'll be late.'

‘Oh no, I won't,' Kate promised her. ‘I'm going to be outside that damned door at exactly 1800 hours! Wish me luck. The way I feel I may get thrown out on my ear.'

‘Come in.' Michaelson was sitting at his desk. There were a lot of stubs in the ashtray in front of him. He scowled at her. Kate walked over to the desk and said, ‘I won't keep you long, Captain.'

‘You won't indeed,' he said. ‘I'm very busy.'

‘And very rude.'

He jerked upright, stared at her, and was about to say something. Kate didn't flinch or look away. Suddenly he made a gesture; it was almost despairing.

‘I'm sorry. It's a waste of time your coming here, but you might as well say your piece and get it over.'

‘It's not a very long piece,' she said quietly. ‘Just one question really. What have you got against me?'

‘Against you? You in particular? You must be a very conceited young woman to ask a question like that.'

‘If I'm conceited,' Kate answered, ‘it's no thanks to you. I've never done anything right, so far as you're concerned. So why haven't you chucked me out?'

He leaned back in his chair, tipping it slightly. He made his expression as unpleasant as possible. ‘You'll know that at the end of the course.'

‘I want to know the reason; I'll take my chance on the result. You've taken a personal dislike to me, Captain Michaelson, and you've done your best to make my life hell since I came here. Either you stop it and give me a fair chance with the rest of the group, or …'

‘Or you walk out,' he finished for her. ‘I don't know how we'll win the war without you!' He lit a cigarette; she saw that he could hardly hold the lighter steady long enough to light it.

‘I'm not walking out,' she said quietly. ‘I wasn't going to say that. That was wishful thinking on your part. I'm going to get through and go to Europe and unless I make a mess of it, you're not going to bully me out of the chance.'

‘Bully you?' The chair came back on its feet with a bump. He pushed it away and got up. He walked a few paces and then turned round to face her. ‘Bully? My God, you bloody silly little idiot, you don't know what bullying means.'

Kate didn't answer. The sight of those trembling hands kept her quiet. There were lines of deep strain on a face that should have been young.

‘Sit down,' he said. ‘You smoke, don't you – here, have a cigarette, help yourself.' He tossed the lighter to her. ‘You say I've given you hell. Well, that's my job. To make life tough and difficult so we can weed out the people who won't last the pace when they go overseas. But not tough and difficult enough! They send in girls like you, puffed up with a lot of nonsense about damaging the Germans in Europe and helping our gallant Allies to resist – did they give you all that cock-and-bull at the interview? Yes, of course they did. Told you you mustn't rush into it, oulined all the risks; not too many gory details, of course, and then said you were indispensable … but you must think it over very carefully and ring up some charming army chap – did he take you out to lunch by any chance? By God he did, I can see by your face! What a lot of shits they are!'

‘I don't know what you're talking about,' Kate said slowly. ‘It happened, but not like you put it. I do think I've got an important job to do. And why do you help them, if you think it's nonsense and they're playing some kind of dirty trick on people like me?'

He didn't answer her directly. ‘It's not the men I mind.' He was speaking low, as if he was talking to himself. ‘Men can take care of themselves. You can train them to be tough, to kill. To die fighting, or take the L pill. But it's madness for women! Criminal bloody madness to pretend they're men and send them out there!' He sat on the edge of the desk. ‘You're very sure of yourself; you think it's going to be a bit of an adventure. I saw your attitude the first morning when you stepped off the train. I said to myself then, Oh Christ! You wouldn't listen to me, I suppose? All right, I haven't been nice to you or fair, but just try and listen to me this once. You're no coward, and you're far from stupid. I'd say that in some ways you're better equipped for this sort of thing than most of the girls I've trained here. But that doesn't make you remotely suitable to go into Europe and take on the most highly trained and ruthless counter-intelligence service in the world. And that's what this is all about. Not tramping over the moors or climbing rocks, or having Finch throw you about and getting a few bruises. I'm talking about the Gestapo!' He grabbed another cigarette. Kate held the lighter for him. ‘Not to mention the Abwehr. They're the army, but they're not exactly gentlemen when it comes to women. You're not listening, are you? No, of course you're not. I've been a sod to you, and you wouldn't take in anything I said.'

For a moment they looked at each other. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. There was no sarcasm, no arrogance about him; the professional mask was dropped and a man racked with some private anguish was pleading with her not to make it worse. She came and held out her hand to him.

‘I have listened to you. And I understand the risks now. Maybe I didn't before, but you've made them a lot clearer to me. I will think about it, I promise you. And I'm sorry you feel like this. It must be awful for you, doing this job.'