“Eve, it’s me. Please stop. I’ve got a cab.”
She stopped and turned to me. Her face was grey and wet. The flesh had fallen away and the big features stood more prominently. It was a truly stupid thought; she looked more Jewish.
“Go away, Danny. I don’t want any more. I just want to get away from here.”
“Be sensible. It’s miles to a bus. I have a cab.” On cue the taxi rolled up and sat next to us. She looked back down the long empty street, shivered and nodded.
I helped her in and we set off back to town.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked.
She dug into her coat pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “They said my flat’s gone. I guess my landlady didn’t want me back.”
“I guess so.”
“I have to stay here. Part of the bail conditions.” She handed me the paper.
“Cabbie? Can you take us to Battersea?” I gave him the address.
It was a long ride. We were in silence for most of it. She sat with her head against the window gazing out at nothing. I noticed her hands; they looked thinner and longer. We pulled up outside a Victorian mansion block opposite the park. I paid the driver, wincing as the meter reached ten bob. I gave him a tanner tip and got out beside Eve. She was standing in the street gazing up at the redbrick faзade.
“They said they’d left my stuff here. My clothes. Shoes. I have to report to the police station every day. It’s round the corner.”
“Who’s paying?”
“They are. For a month, they said. Till I can find somewhere.”
This was unwarranted charity. Not like the Yard to care what happened to former guests of His Majesty. Wilson had set this up. He hadn’t done with her yet. But why? “Come on. Let’s get you settled,” I said cheerily. “Let’s see if they left you a kettle.”
She looked like she was going to protest, but then she clamped her mouth shut and fished out two keys. One was for the big main door. We went in and stood for a moment in the gloom of the hall till our eyes recovered. Her flat was on the third floor. We took the lift and emerged in a corridor lit by the sunlight from big windows.
The flat was stale and dark. I found a switch. A light came on in a tiny toilet and sink on our left. I could see a chink of daylight ahead, and I strode across the sitting room and flung the curtains open.
“Room with a view! Look, you can see the park.”
She didn’t respond. She sat down on the couch, still in her outdoor coat, and closed her eyes.
“Sleepy?”
She shook her head. “Danny, it’s OK now. Thank you for all you’ve done. I just need some quiet.” She closed her eyes.
I felt my resolve slipping away. Stupid, stupid me. I thought I was over her.
Instead I’d been holding on to the tatters of a dream. That she’d come out of jail and we’d be able to pick up again. That with everything out in the open, we could at last be ourselves. But it seemed that her self wanted nothing to do with my self. I was a jilted teenager. And it stung.
“Sure, Eve. Just wanted to make sure you were all right. Check that Wilson had left you in one piece.”
She opened her eyes and stared at me. I shrugged.
“I’ll leave you to it. Call me when… Call me if you need anything. Otherwise…” I turned and made for the door.
“Danny? Wait. I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch. How’s your head?”
I rubbed the new marks on my brow. “Hasn’t spoiled my good looks.”
“The arm?”
I waved my bandaged wrist at her. “You wouldn’t have a knitting needle would you? I have a terrible itch.”
It got a faint smile from her. “I heard we were lucky.”
“And the flyboys weren’t. Shame it wasn’t the Redcaps. We could have made a run for it.”
We went quiet again. I was at a loss. “Right, I’m off,” I said.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” she asked.
We muddled about until we found the kitchen and the kettle. Someone had been thoughtful enough to provide a teapot, two cups, a strainer and a packet of tea.
There was even a bottle of fresh milk in the pantry. Jam and a loaf and some butter in a dish. We made tea, and strawberry jam sandwiches.
“Was it bad?” I asked.
She sipped at her second cup and took a pull on her cigarette. “Was it bad?” She let the silence gather. Her big eyes filled. She kept brushing them with her cuff until they were red and puffy. She wasn’t going to give in to tears.
“They put me in solitary. A little cell. Away from the others. Said it was for my own sake. They wouldn’t let me sleep. Called me names. Nazi shit. Jewish whore. Better if I’d died in Belsen.”
I reached out but she moved her arm. She kept going.
“I didn’t mind what they called me. But then he started on my people. He made up lies about Gideon, said he was a deserter. A murderer. A child molester. Gideon?
The man who won the Military Cross with the Jewish Brigade? He told me they knew what had happened to my parents. Knew where they were buried. Said he would tell me if I told them the truth.”
“Eve. Who’s he?” fearing the answer.
“Wilson. The one you said was at my flat. He hates you. He kept telling me you were scum.”
“From him that’s a compliment,” I hissed.
“He wouldn’t listen to the truth. My truth. Didn’t want to hear about the warnings. Didn’t want to listen when I said they had Arab spies in the British Mandatory Government. That they’d been the ones who’d deflected the warning. The ones who’d said it was a rumour.”
“Is that true? Arab spies in Palestine, working for us?” I could believe it. We Brits have always had a thing about the desert. Rudolf Valentino in white robes, making the girls swoon.
“We know who they are. We know them by their terrorist names. I can give you details. But not Wilson. He wouldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to.” She took some more tea. With her coat off I could see the bones of her shoulders. I wanted to hold her.
“What happened to MI5 and your pals there? The ones who ran, what was it, the Double Cross unit?”
“B1A? Yes. I asked for them. Asked for Tar himself. Tommy Argyll Robertson. The colonel in charge. They just laughed. Said I was making it up. They’d never heard of such an outfit.” She shrugged. “Washed their hands of me, I guess. A Nazi spy is one thing, but a Jewish agent…”
Her voice was quieter now. “I kept trying to get some sleep. And every time I dropped off, they woke me. He told them to wake me. That was bad. I begged them for sleep…” She broke off, searching for the words.
“And the woman. One of the warders…” She couldn’t get it out. “She kept doing a search. A body search.” Her eyes blazed. “The others held me. She made me stand naked. And she touched me. She put her fingers in me. She enjoyed it!”
Her chest was heaving. “And all the time… all the time… he was there. Behind the grill. Watching me. I can see his eyes…”
She gathered herself after a while and started again in a whisper. “I couldn’t take it, Danny. I couldn’t help it. They made me. I was out of my mind…”
I whispered, “What? What did they make you do, Eve?”
“I told them I knew about the bomb. I told them about Menachem Begin. Told them he was the leader of Irgun. Told them he didn’t give a warning. I betrayed him.
How could I?” She broke apart again. I pulled her to me and held her for a long time till the sobs stopped. She pushed back and went to the bathroom and washed her face.
I was pacing the room when she got back. “We’re going to file a complaint, Eve.
They can’t do this to you. I won’t let him get away with it. That bastard!”
She took my hand. “But he can, Danny. You know he can. Who’d believe me?”
I calmed down. I decided to go. Take the pressure off. Let her sleep. The sun was dropping behind the
