Against the Tide (38 page)

‘Wow. Not what I expected, Uncle.'

‘Yes, she's quite a looker, isn't she?'

Rachel joined us, catching Fred's remark. She muttered, ‘Men.'

‘What was that about, then?' I asked.

‘Nothing. I just wanted to know if she had heard of someone from Caen.' Her look said,
Don't ask any more questions.

Perhaps I'd have better luck with my uncle. ‘How does she know Miko?'

Fred grimaced. ‘That was a bit loose-tongued of her. I'm surprised. She obviously doesn't mind you knowing.'

‘Knowing what?'

‘I thought he'd told you two his story.'

Rachel shrugged. ‘About the escape from Romania and his wife's death, he didn't mention Hélène, did he, Jack?'

‘No. But how did you know he'd told us anything, Uncle?'

‘Ah, I see. You'll have to excuse me. Force of habit. “Need to know” and all that. I've had to be so careful over the years. Sometimes it's difficult to remember who said what to whom, where and when. Right. I can tell you this much. I've known Miko for some time, well before he came to Jersey.'

He held up his hand to stifle my question.

‘We met in Berlin, during the Olympics. He was there as an assistant coach to the Hungarian water polo team but he also helped out with the diving and swimming. I think you two know how knowledgeable he is. I was there for a different purpose. He was more successful than me. Hungary won gold medals in the water polo and the one hundred metres freestyle. You were in good hands, Jack.'

He tapped Rachel's arm. ‘No luck in the diving, but then he only had men to work with.' He grinned then continued. ‘A few months later, we met again in Northern Spain. I'd been sent to help organise the International Brigades, the Communist volunteers who fought to defend the Spanish Republic against Franco's fascists.'

‘And that's where he met Hélène?' I interrupted. I wanted to know what Fred was doing in Berlin but couldn't face another long story. I'd ask him on another day, sure it was nothing to do with collecting medals.

‘Jack will remember that I told him Miko was trying to get to an English university to pursue his specialist field in physics –'

‘But they wouldn't let him in because he was a clever Jew.'

‘That didn't help, but the immigration authorities also believe he is a member of the Communist Party.'

‘Is he?' Rachel asked.

‘It's complicated.' Fred rubbed his chin. ‘I'm sure you understand there are some things I can't talk about but I do trust Hélène implicitly. Her husband was a political commissar in Albacete, where the International Brigades were trained. She helped to get the volunteers across the French border. That's where she met Miko. He was with the Romanian contingent. The whole camp was run by Comintern and only party members were accepted at that stage.'

He creased his forehead as if to clear his brain. ‘This isn't black and white. Not all Communists were followers of Stalin and Comintern, there were a misguided number who believed in the traitor Trotsky's subversive views –'

‘Stop a minute, Uncle. You're losing me here. Who's Trotsky?'

‘A self-serving enemy of the Soviet people, nothing more, nothing less.'

‘That sounds like the party line. But I remember reading something about this now. Didn't Lenin prefer him over Stalin?'

‘Lenin was ill, wasn't thinking clearly, but enough of this. You wanted to know about Miko, didn't you?'

I was tempted to remind him that he had raised the issue but it was obviously a sore point. ‘Sorry. You're right. Perhaps another time. So what happened in this camp?'

‘As I was about to tell you, we were suspicious of volunteers who weren't already party members. You can't just join, you know. You have to be sponsored and vetted.'

I couldn't resist. ‘So, more exclusive than the Jersey Swimming Club. No riff- raff like Trotsky or Miko allowed in then.'

He scowled. ‘Trotsky is worse than riff-raff. He is a real impediment to the Permanent Revolution. Even from his lair in Mexico, he's still a menace. Do you know, the traitor applied for asylum in Jersey? I'd have put him in the bloody asylum if he set one of his manicured toes on our shore. Anyway, I thought we'd agreed not to discuss him. Now, where was I?'

‘Vetting?'

‘Yes. Miko was interrogated by a panel led by Hélène's husband. It was a normal procedure but Miko's not very good in interviews. He failed to show the requisite respect and they declined to accept him. I didn't know about this. It was a large camp, but Hélène told me about a disrespectful Romanian and I realised that I might know him. Cut a long story even shorter. We got together and I persuaded him to play nicely. He swallowed his pride, apologised and convinced the commissars that he would follow Stalin's orders without question. I'm sure you can imagine how easy this was.' He rolled his eyes.

‘But how did you communicate? I know you and Hélène speak French and Spanish but Miko speaks Hungarian and Romanian. His English is –'

‘Don't underestimate him. He also has some Russian and German and all European Jews speak Yiddish. Hélène's husband spoke Russian as well as Spanish and French. Besides, you'll find that many Communist officials have learnt the language of capitalism so they can better understand their class enemy.'

‘You mean English?

‘Of course. On that basis, you might be advised to learn German. Anyway, that's how they met and now she wants him to take his expertise in physics to Russia. He says he's considering the offer but I don't think he really wants to work under that sort of close supervision. Though I don't know how much longer he can wait around hoping to be allowed into England. Training you and Rachel has provided an interesting diversion for him but he's only using a tiny part of his brain and worries that he'll soon be too far behind to catch up.'

I was puzzled. ‘So he's no longer a Communist?'

‘I think Hitler would disagree. He won't allow Jews to relinquish their identity, neither will he allow Communists to change their spots. Once you've been a member, or associated with members, you are forever unclean, a dangerous leper. Unfortunately, many of the democracies share the same view.'

‘If that's the case, how did he get a job at the Palace Hotel?'

‘Ah, I'd done a favour for the owner, sorted out a union problem. He did one for me in return. Believe me, if I could get Miko to England, I would. Hélène wouldn't thank me though.'

There were still some things bothering me about this. ‘You and Malita were helped to escape. How did Miko and Hélène and her husband get out?'

‘Why do you always ask questions to which there are no simple answers?'

‘Call it youthful ignorance, Uncle.'

‘Miko fought with the Dimitrov Battalion along with the British and Americans. The brigade suffered heavy casualties but gave the fascists a bloody nose. All over Spain, we were holding the Catholic bastards and then, in late 1938, the British and French appeasers pulled the plug and forced the International Brigades to disband. That handed the victory to Franco. You see, the international capitalist community had decided that not upseting Hitler was more important than supporting social democracy in Spain so they let the fascists have their victory.'

‘So Miko went back to Romania?' Rachel asked.

‘Yes, and straight into the arms of the Iron Guard. I believe he's told you the rest.'

‘What about Hélène and her husband? How important are they?' Rachel asked.

‘He was betrayed and captured by the fascists.' He stopped, held my gaze. ‘You know what that means, I don't need to explain, do I?'

‘No.' We could spare Rachel that at least.

‘Let us say he was executed in such a way that his widow will never rest until the last fascist is dead… this is her life now, but it's not easy. She has had to deal with internal issues… I'm saying far too much. But you asked if she was important, Rachel. She is far more than that. She is vital and needs to be protected. As I've told Jack, I believe that the Nazis will go for a rerun of their 1914 plan but they won't get bogged down in trenches this time. They'll crash through and conquer France in weeks. Britain might hold out but she'll be isolated. The Americans will screw every last penny out of us and, when we've got nothing to sell, we'll be left to rot. The only hope is Stalin. He nearly succeeded in Spain and lessons have been learnt. Hélène and her comrades can keep that hope alive and provide a resistance to the Nazis, that's why she's vital, Jack. If she gets those diamonds, you can be sure they'll never end up in German hands.'

There was one very big “if” in his belief but, until he fell out of love with Stalin, there was no point in mentioning it. ‘Thanks. I think I understand, but what should we do now?'

‘As Hélène said, she will contact me as soon as she has any information. We just have to be patient.' He considered me. ‘If you really want to do something then get on and send the signal to Saul.'

‘Let's hope Miko and Malita are keeping watch and my brother hasn't shot himself or anyone else on
Jacob's Star
by accident then.' I picked up the sack, opened it and dug around for the flag. My hand brushed the revolver and I felt clammy again. Had that really been me shooting at that boat?

Fred helped me attach the Red Ensign to the halyard on the flagpole and I hoisted it to the top.

‘How close will they need to be to see that?' asked Rachel.

‘Saul could calculate that for you in a second but I know it involves square roots and some algebra, not my strong points,' I responded.

Fred looked amused at my mathematical weakness. ‘About eight miles in this light. The flag looks to be at least fifty feet above sea level. With binoculars they should be able to spot it easily. We may have to wait for some time though. It's a pity we didn't bring those crabs with us. We could have cooked them up and had our own little feast.'

Food was the last thing I wanted, though we could have left Fred in charge of the crabs while we explored. I caught Rachel's eye and tried to mime the suggestion that we take a short walk.

‘Are you all right, Jack? You seem to have developed a twitch.' Her voice was teasing. She knew what I meant but didn't want to talk in private.

Fred seemed oblivious to this pantomime. ‘Well, we might as well enjoy the sun, I think I'm going to grab forty winks. Old soldier's trick, Jack. Grab the shuteye when you can, you never know when you'll get the next opportunity.' He fished his clothes out of the bag, bundled them into a pillow and surrendered to the sun.

At last. Now I could pull Rachel aside.

But she grabbed her bundle and lay down beside him. ‘That's a great idea, Fred. I think I'll join you.'

Why didn't she want to speak to me? Bugger them. I'd had enough sun. I went inside, wriggled out of my wet costume, changed into my shorts then spent the next hour observing the horizon and brooding. Both were circular activities and only one yielded any results. While I watched
Jacob's Star
approach from the north, I realised that trying to understand women was even more frustrating than algebra.

‘We had some fun, I can tell you. The
kaffirs
tried to close a couple of times. But your brother aimed the rifle and they backed off. Give him his due, he's been more sensible than I expected.' Saul kept talking as we clambered aboard and Alan stowed the dinghy. ‘I swear I had this tub up to fifteen knots. We swerved around the Paternosters twice. That shook them up. Not much room for error there. Miko gave me a long explanation in Yiddish about how he would deal with them if they did attempt to board. I thought you told me he was a professor of physics. Sounded more like a professional butcher to me. Anyway, Malita suggested we head off for Carteret. They followed until we were close to port then turned tail –'

‘Why didn't they keep chasing you?'

‘As I explained before, Jack, it's all about engine speed and fuel consumption. Their petrol engines are like some of your older water polo players, they need pints of ale to keep them happy after a match. We more sophisticated diesel operators require mere sips of a decent wine. They must have realised that we could have kept the game going for hours.'

‘So what's to stop them lying in wait for us on the return journey?' I asked.

Alan waved the rifle. ‘This. Are you glad I brought it now?'

Fred pushed the barrel away. ‘Be careful with that. Why don't you get up on the cabin and keep watch whilst Saul takes us back.'

Alan patted the stock. ‘Locked, loaded, and at your command, sir.'

‘Do you think they will be waiting for us?' Rachel asked.

Fred replied, ‘Unlikely, if they are short of fuel, they'll need to get back to St Helier. I suggest we go straight to St Catherine's and Saul moors there overnight just in case they are waiting in the harbour.'

I tapped his shoulder. ‘That makes sense. What do you think, Saul?'

‘Fine by me so long as we can get a lift home. Is there a phone box nearby?'

‘Why?'

‘Well you don't have a phone at home, you can't get us all on the back of your bike – not that I'd risk my neck anyway – so I'll have to phone for a taxi.'

‘What about the bus?' suggested Rachel.

‘Bus? Jack, tell her what happened the last time I used public transport.'

‘It's not that he's a snob, Rachel, but having to share a bus with those who can't afford taxis brings him out in a rash. I'm not sure there's a bus anyway at this time of day. Not that it matters. I'll take Alan home and come back with our car. It'll be a squeeze but I'll take all of you back.' That would give me a chance to drop the others off and be alone with Rachel. I enjoyed that comforting thought all the way to the breakwater.