know what is going on between you and my husband.’
Carol raised her head. She looked embarrassed, her face flushed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve known something was going on for a while. I found a concert ticket with your name in his pocket. Then you rang last night. Was it because I answered that you said there was a problem at work?’
Carol clasped her hands in her lap, looked down at the floor for a long moment. Then she looked at Sarah and said, slowly, ‘Mrs Fitzgerald, there is nothing going on between me and David. I’ll be honest, I do have – feelings – for him, I have for a long time. He doesn’t return them, but I’ve been fooling myself for quite a while.’ She gave a quick whinny of a laugh. ‘Isn’t it strange, here we are sitting talking about it. I’ve often wished you didn’t exist, you know, or even that you’d die.’ Her look was so intense Sarah wondered if Carol might be a little unhinged, too, like her mother.
‘At least that’s honest,’ she said flatly.
‘David’s a good man. Believe me, I’ve met plenty who aren’t.’ She frowned. ‘Did you come round here earlier this afternoon? My mother said a woman was watching the house.’
‘Yes. Yes, that was me.’
Carol said, ‘When she told me that, I was frightened. So it was because of the phone call you decided to come round. Was that the only reason?’
‘Yes. What other reason could there be? Miss Bennett, why did you ask whether something had happened to David?’
Carol stood and walked over to the table. She ran her hand along the top of the naval officer’s photograph and Sarah wondered if he was her father; there was a resemblance. Carol turned and looked at Sarah. ‘Something happened at the office today. I’m in charge of the room where the confidential files are kept, secret files. A few days ago a document turned up in one of our files that shouldn’t have been there. Today I was questioned about it by the police.’ She looked away. ‘You see, they all know David and I are friends at the office, they laugh about it. And today I was called in to be interviewed by these two policemen. They asked whether we –’ her voice stumbled – ‘whether David and I – well, I told them I hadn’t, which is true.’
‘Policemen?’ Sarah asked, aghast.
‘They said they were from Special Branch. But one of them was German. They asked whether I’d given David access to my files, though I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t. I may be – what do they call it – a lovelorn old spinster but I’m not that lovelorn.’ A thought seemed to strike Carol and she frowned. ‘But maybe David thought I was, maybe that’s why he became friendly with me.’
Fear washed through Sarah then, from her head to her feet, like cold water. A German. ‘Are you saying that you – that they – think he’s some sort of spy?’
‘They had his personnel file on the desk. After they let me go I phoned David, I had to warn him. They don’t send Germans along just for nothing, do they? I didn’t ask him if he’d done anything, I didn’t want to know. But he didn’t deny it.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘He didn’t really say anything.’
Sarah asked, quietly, ‘Did you and my husband ever meet in the evenings?’
‘No. Never. I swear.’
‘He’s been going somewhere. For over a year. He said he went to play tennis and I’ve been getting – suspicious.’ Her voice tailed away.
Carol leaned forward. ‘You have to help him now.’
‘Good God.’ Sarah closed her eyes. ‘Did they call David in for questioning?’
‘I don’t know. I said he should leave but I don’t know what happened after that.’
‘So they could have arrested him?’
‘I don’t know. All I know is that Mr Dabb, my boss, said the police would want to speak to me again tomorrow; they’ll contact me.’
‘So David might be under arrest?’
‘I tell you, I don’t know. But if he got out – wouldn’t he come home?’
‘I’ve been out all day.’ Sarah didn’t add,
‘Yes,’ Carol agreed quickly. ‘Even if he’s not there, he may telephone you.’
Sarah looked at her. It was strange, now they were on the same side. She asked, ‘Why did you help him today? You’re putting yourself at risk.’
‘I know he’s a good man. If he does something it’s because he believes it’s right.’
‘Would you believe it’s right? For a civil servant to spy against the government?’
Carol smiled sadly. ‘I don’t know anything about politics. And David and I never discussed it. You don’t, in the Service, unless you know someone well. I don’t like a lot of the things that are happening now, some of them I hate. But I have to get by. Isn’t that how it is for most people, they just want – need – to get by? My mother – well, you’ve seen what she’s like. And if the alternative to Beaverbrook and Mosley’s a revolution I’m not sure I’d want that either. I’m not brave, not like David.’
Sarah said, ‘I’ve always been a pacifist. I don’t like the Resistance violence. But things lately—’
‘Yes. The Jews, the deportations and violence, it’s awful.’ Carol paused and then asked, ‘Do you think David could be a spy?’
‘It might explain a lot.’ Sarah stood up suddenly. ‘I should go now.’
Carol took a step towards her, then stopped. She rubbed a hand across her forehead. ‘I don’t know if I should have told you. But I had to. Will you tell him I’ve spoken to you?’
‘I think I must, now.’ It was Sarah’s turn to laugh. ‘I made myself come here, I was determined to get the truth, but you often get more than you bargain for if you do that, don’t you?’
Carol smiled sadly. ‘Yes. But you – you have to help him now.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Sarah looked at Carol. She didn’t feel anger now. She realized that in different circumstances she and this woman might have been friends. But when Carol impulsively extended a hand Sarah shook her head quickly. She knew Carol would have taken David from her if she could.
Carol showed her out. On the doorstep she said, ‘Good luck. To both of you.’
Sarah nodded. She turned away, then looked back and said, ‘Thank you.’
Sarah went home. The rush hour was over, the carriages only half full. She stared unseeingly at the tunnel walls. The idea that David was working for the Resistance fitted with the facts. She felt rage towards him, fury at all he had kept from her if this was true, the danger he had placed them both in. Then she thought of him lying in a police station somewhere, maybe even in Senate House where they said the SS tortured people, and the thought of him in a cell, bruised and broken, made her want to scream out loud.
She arrived at Kenton Station and walked home. Now, for the first time, she began to observe, to calculate. She thought, the house might be watched. If it was there would be someone in a car outside or very close. What would she do if there was? She realized there would be no point in running, they’d soon catch her and running would be a sign of guilt. No, she would go back to the house. But what if David wasn’t there? He might have come while she was out. She would look and see if he had taken any clothes. Then what? She would have to throw herself on Irene’s mercy. Then she thought of Geoff, steady, reliable Geoff. If David wasn’t there she would go to Pinner.
There were a few cars parked at the roadside but none close to the house and none seemed occupied, though it was hard to be sure in the dim yellow streetlight. No lights were on in the house, none of the curtains drawn. She unlocked the door and went in. All was silent and still. The London telephone directory lay on the hall table where she had left it that morning. She went into the kitchen and switched on the light. Then she screamed.
Two men were sitting at the kitchen table; they had been waiting for her in the dark. She saw that the back door had been broken open. One of the men was in his thirties, tall and thin, with a mean, hard face. The other was older, plump, with sad, pouchy features and untidy fair hair. He looked at her with cold, light-blue eyes: a horribly penetrating stare. Then he spoke, in what Sarah recognized at once was a German accent; not angrily but somehow sadly. ‘Good evening, Mrs Fitzgerald.’
AT KENTON STATION DAVID found himself reluctant to go in; he knew the Resistance people would have a
