In Love and War (20 page)

‘That would be lovely.' Elsie stowed her case and sat down opposite Marianne. Outside it was still dark and the cramped confines of the cabin seemed like another world. The smell of salt water and engine oil mixed oddly with the comforting aroma of hot chocolate as Adams made the cocoa. He placed a mug in front of each of them.

‘Thank you,' Elsie said, sipping the hot drink, which was thick and sweet with the addition of condensed milk.

‘It's most welcome,' Marianne added. ‘Thank you, Adams.'

‘If there's anything you want just give me a shout,' he said, backing out of the doorway. ‘You might just get forty winks if you're lucky.' He closed the door and they were left alone in the cabin, which had started to rock gently as the boat glided out of the harbour. The motion changed as they emerged into the Channel. ‘I can't imagine sleeping on this,' Elsie said, patting the hard leather upholstery.

‘I think I'd nod off on a bed of nails.' Marianne stirred her drink, frowning thoughtfully. ‘I wonder what's going to happen when we get to Antwerp.'

‘That bothers me too, and what was all that about a white lady? Our elderly friend seemed to think that we ought to know. Is it code?'

‘If it is I haven't come across it.' Marianne put her mug down on the table, and stretched out on the narrow bench. ‘Anyway, I'm going to get some sleep. Wake me up when we get there.'

Elsie finished her drink in silence. She peered out of the salt-encrusted porthole but the sea and the sky seemed to merge in a mass of greyness. Then, suddenly, as if an invisible hand had drawn a line across the horizon, she could see a faint glimmer of light to the east, the start of a new day, she thought tiredly. Where and how will it end?

They were met on the docks in Antwerp by a woman who introduced herself as Adèle. She took them to a small café in a side street where the proprietor seemed to know her, although his greeting was less than warm. They were ushered into a back room, and, as her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, Elsie realised that they were in a storeroom. Crates and boxes were piled up beneath the barred window, almost obliterating what little light filtered in from the street. The air was thick with the smell of must and damp rot and the flagstone floor felt gritty beneath her feet.

Adèle took a packet of cigarettes from her handbag and offered them round. Marianne accepted one, but Elsie shook her head. ‘No, thank you,' she said politely. ‘I don't smoke.'

Adèle struck a match and lit Marianne's and then her own. ‘You will, my dear. When you've been living for a while under the watchful eye of the Boche you might need something to calm your nerves.'

Marianne exhaled smoke into the air above their heads. ‘Why are we here? Where are they sending us?'

Adèle became suddenly businesslike. ‘You will travel to Brussels by train.' She delved once again into her handbag and produced a manila envelope, which she handed to Marianne. ‘These are your tickets and travel permits. There is also a small amount of currency for your immediate needs.'

Marianne stared at the envelope as if it were a ticking bomb. ‘What do we do when we arrive in Brussels?'

‘You will be met at the station and taken to a school run by two sisters, Laure and Louise Tandel. Unfortunately Laure is currently in a German prison, serving a sentence for defying the authorities.' Adèle took a long drag on her cigarette, eyeing them thoughtfully. She exhaled with a sigh. ‘This is a dangerous business, and you are foreigners. To be caught means the firing squad.'

‘We know that,' Elsie said stoutly. ‘We'll do whatever is required of us.'

‘The women agents in Battalion III of the organisation known as La Dame Blanche, the White Lady, as you say in English, are scattered throughout the country, gathering military intelligence and sending it back to London.' She gave them an appraising look. ‘But you are perhaps too young and inexperienced for that kind of work. However, I'm sure that Louise will find something for you to do.'

‘When do we leave for Brussels?' Marianne asked wearily. ‘We seem to have been travelling for days; first by train and then on a very small boat. We're tired and we're both in need of a bath and a change of clothes.'

Adèle smiled for the first time since they had met. ‘I can sympathise, but you will have time to rest in Brussels before you are sent to your post.' She made for the door. ‘Wait here and someone will come to take you to the railway station.'

‘Are you leaving us?' Elsie asked anxiously.

‘You will be in good hands.' Adèle left, closing the door behind her.

Marianne sat down on an upturned crate. ‘I'm actually beginning to miss our ghastly room at the lodging house. At least we could get a decent night's sleep there.'

‘But only if you could ignore the noise from the street below, and the constant thud of footsteps in the corridor outside our room.'

‘Anything is better than that dreadful boat.' Marianne dropped the cigarette end onto the floor and ground it beneath the heel of her shoe. ‘I'm starving. Do you think they'll feed us?'

Elsie perched gingerly on a pile of cardboard boxes. ‘I keep thinking of the meals that Mrs Beale cooked for us. I'm so hungry that my stomach hurts.' She turned with a start as the door opened and the proprietor sidled into the room with a laden tray in his hands.

‘It's not much,' he said gruffly, ‘but it's all we have.'

Elsie jumped up and took the tray from him. ‘Thank you. We're most grateful for anything.'

He grunted and backed out of the room. Elsie put the tray on the floor between them. ‘Bread, sausage and beer.'

Marianne bent down to pick up a hunk of coarse rye bread and a piece of sausage that reeked of garlic. She took a bite, chewed and swallowed. ‘It's better than nothing.'

‘I could eat almost anything, and we're probably taking food from their mouths, so we should be grateful.'

Marianne closed her eyes and took another bite. ‘I'm pretending it's one of Madame Aubertin's freshly baked croissants, spread with butter and apricot conserve.'

‘Who is Madame Aubertin?'

‘She is the Bellaires' housekeeper in le Lavandou. She is the most amazing cook, but she is a frustrated opera singer and sings all day long. You can tell her mood by her choice of aria.'

‘Do you think she's still singing?'

‘I don't think anything short of death would silence Madame.' Marianne drank thirstily. ‘This stuff is all right, but you should taste the wines of Provence. They are like nectar.'

Elsie sipped her drink. ‘You speak so fondly of the time you spent there. Would you like to go back to le Lavandou?'

‘It was heaven,' Marianne said with a sigh. ‘They were the happiest days of my life.'

They finished their meal in silence and settled down to wait for the guide who would take them to the railway station. Elsie felt herself nodding off but came quickly to her senses at the sound of footsteps. She cocked her head on one side. ‘Someone's coming.'

Moments later the door opened and the space was filled by the proprietor's considerable bulk. ‘Come,' he said abruptly. ‘It's time for you to leave.'

The train was packed with soldiers as well as ordinary Belgians going about their day to day business. The sight of so many German uniforms made Elsie nervous, and suddenly the magnitude of their task dawned upon her. When they were in Paris the war had seemed far away, and the shortages of food and fuel had been inconvenient but not life-threatening. Now they had come face to face with the enemy, and that in itself was confusing. Most of the soldiers were young men, and many of them were little more than fresh-faced boys. They were fellow travellers, chatting, laughing and joking as if they had not a care in the world. It was hard to imagine them as individuals, wielding weapons – prepared to kill or be killed – but this was what they must and would do when they came face to face with the opposing armies.

She sat quietly, in a seat by the window, pinned to the wall of the carriage by the weight of a country woman who was hugging a basket filled with potatoes. Marianne sat on the hard wooden seat opposite, next to a small boy who seemed to be having difficulty in keeping awake. His head kept nodding until he fell asleep and slumped against Marianne. ‘Victor, wake up.' The woman seated next to Elsie leaned over to tap him on the shoulder. ‘You are annoying the lady.'

The child jumped and opened his large blue eyes, mumbling an apology.

Marianne rose to her feet. ‘Would you like to sit next to him, madame?'

With a lot of manoeuvring they managed to change places and Marianne took the woman's seat beside Elsie. ‘We should be there soon,' she said in a low voice.

Elsie glanced at the soldiers seated on the other side of the aisle. One of them looked up and winked at her. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and she looked away. ‘The sooner the better,' she whispered.

‘Try not to look so scared,' Marianne hissed. ‘Act normally.'

‘What is normal in a situation like this?'

Marianne fumbled in her handbag and then closed it again. ‘Hell and damnation.'

‘What's the matter?'

‘I forgot my hanky,' Marianne said loudly. She lowered her voice. ‘The other day I was desperate for a cigarette and I bought a packet, but they're French, and although I'd do almost anything for a smoke I simply can't risk it.'

‘I doubt if they'd notice,' Elsie said, chuckling. The air in the compartment was already fuggy with tobacco smoke, and a thick blue haze floated above their heads. ‘You'll just have to give up again.'

‘You can laugh. You don't indulge in the habit.'

‘No, thank goodness, or I'd be in a state like you. Let's hope we get there before you starting chewing your fingernails. And you told me to act naturally.' Elsie leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. ‘Wake me up when we get there.' She was only pretending to sleep, but she realised that she must have dozed off when Marianne nudged her in the ribs as the train lumbered to a halt. All around them there was movement as passengers gathered their belongings and made their way to the end of the compartment.

‘This is where we get off too.' Marianne stood up, shaking out the creases in her cotton skirt.

Elsie rose stiffly to her feet and followed Marianne as she edged towards the open carriage door. In moments they were on the platform, caught up in the throng of civilians and army personnel who were surging toward the exit. ‘I wonder who will meet us this time?' she said in a low voice. ‘Adèle didn't tell us who to look out for.'

Marianne came to a halt in the main concourse. ‘We'll just have to wait and hope they find us.'

Elsie turned with a start as someone plucked at her sleeve. She looked round to see a schoolgirl standing at her side. ‘Yes? Can I help you?'

‘My name is Marie. Miss Tandel sent me to fetch you.' The girl spoke in perfect English with only a slight trace of an accent.

‘We speak French,' Elsie said hastily.

‘Come.' Marie took her by the hand. ‘It is not too far to walk.'

Elsie decided that a twelve-year-old's idea of a short walk differed somewhat from her own, and it was mid-afternoon by the time they arrived at the school. They were admitted by one of the older girls, who led them through a maze of corridors, stopping outside a door marked
Principal
. ‘I'll tell Mademoiselle that you are here.' She knocked and entered, reappearing almost immediately. ‘She will see you now.'

Elsie followed Marianne into the book-lined office. Louise Tandel was seated behind a cluttered desk, but she stood up as they entered and came towards them with her hand outstretched. ‘Welcome to La Dame Blanche,' she said, smiling. ‘Do sit down. You must be tired after all that travelling.' She tugged at a bell pull. ‘I'm sure you could do with some refreshment.'

‘Thank you. That would be lovely.' Marianne sank down on the hard seat of an ornately carved chair.

Elsie sat down beside her. ‘Perhaps you could tell us why we've been sent here, mademoiselle.'

‘You are much younger than most of our agents in Battalion III, but I have something in mind for you.' Louise eyed them thoughtfully. ‘Now we've met, I think you would be ideally suited to this kind of work.'

Elsie was mystified. ‘What would that be?'

A timid tap on the door halted the conversation. ‘Enter.' Louise took her seat behind her desk, sitting upright and looking every inch the schoolmistress.

The door opened and a young maidservant entered the room. ‘You rang, mademoiselle.'

‘Yes, Nina. Would you bring coffee, please? And the ladies are hungry. See if you can find something for them in the kitchen.'

‘Yes, mademoiselle.' Nina bobbed a curtsey and left.

‘I'm afraid it will be ersatz coffee,' Louise said apologetically. ‘Real coffee is very expensive and hard to come by these days. I expect it is the same in England.'

‘We've been away from home for some time, but I believe it's getting that way.' Marianne leaned forward on her chair. ‘Why are we here, Mademoiselle Tandel?'

‘Yes,' Elsie said, taking up the subject that had been nagging away at her ever since they left Paris. ‘What will be required of us?'

‘We have a network of agents whose job is to keep a twenty-four hour watch on the trains that pass through their area. They keep a count of the number of troops, horses and cannons on each train and, once a week, they pass this information on to their contact.'

‘But we will be working together, won't we?' Elsie asked anxiously.

‘Yes, you will. Watching the trains night and day is an exacting task, and you will have to work out a rota between you. We have whole families doing similar work.'

‘That's all we have to do?' Marianne opened her handbag and took out her cigarettes. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?'