“I came to see you of course,” said the German speaking in his native language. “Will you not ask me in?”
“No!” exclaimed Sybilla quickly, then with tenderness, “Not today.”
“Why on earth not, dearest?” The German sounded disappointed. “I have come a long way to see you. Do you have a new lover? Are you hiding someone in there?”
“Of course not!” responded Sybilla, too quickly. “It’s just that I don’t feel too well.” She sounded unconvincing, thought Kelly.
“Then let me comfort you, as I always do,” soothed the German.
“Come in,” she said resignedly.
They walked past Kelly’s door as he sat frozen on the floor. He heard the main bedroom door close. As the bedrooms were adjoining, Kelly could hear muffled sounds coming from the room. He felt an impulse to hear more. Looking around the room his eyes alighted on a tumbler by the side of the bed.
Rising, he shuffled across the room and retrieved the tumbler, the bandages on his feet ably masking any sound. Silently, he moved to the adjoining wall, placing the open end of the tumbler against the wall, and his ear against the base of the tumbler. It was as if a radio had been instantly turned up. He could hear quite clearly now, but what he heard made his heart sink.
It was perfectly obvious what was taking place in the next room. He lowered the tumbler reluctant to listen further, but was suddenly struck by the notion that perhaps Sybilla was being taken against her will? He would rescue her! He listened again to make sure. No, Sybilla was definitely a very willing partner, judging by the sounds he heard.
Kelly shuffled back to the bed and noiselessly lay down. He didn’t bother to hide himself. His stomach twisted and turned. At that moment he would not have cared less if he had been captured. After a while, the sound of muffled voices came again. Picking up his hearing device he moved across to his listening post once more.
A conversation was taking place, most of which he could distinguish, but he found it difficult to understand. The topic appeared to be ‘heavy water’.
“But I don’t see the point of heavy water,” Sybilla was saying. “Water is heavy enough. I know. I used to have to fetch it from the pump in Bergen!”
“It’s part of a process,” the German answered. “They will use it to create heat.”
“But how can water produce heat?” asked Sybilla. “You can’t burn it.”
“I don’t understand the process myself. Something to do with atoms. Anyway, the whole thing is top secret, so don’t breathe a word of this, alright?”
“As if I would!” responded Sybilla. “What would I tell everyone?” She adopted a mock conversational tone. “Yesterday lunch time while I was having sex with Herr Hauptman Meyer, he told me all about heavy water.”
They both laughed.
“I don’t think so Jürgen, do you?”
“No, I suppose not,” he said, still laughing. “Anyway, I must go. As always, Billa, I have greatly enjoyed your company.”
Kelly eased himself back to his hide position behind the door and waited until he heard the outside door close. He then moved to the bed and sat down, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
Presently Kelly heard the bath running and the sound of splashing. A sound that had been so pleasing and provocative only twenty-four hours ago was now almost obscene. After an eternity, his door opened and Sybilla walked slowly in. She was wearing a loose-fitting light cotton dress which reached almost to her ankles, her hair was wet and her face was set hard as a stone.
“I suppose you heard?” she said, ice in her voice.
“It was hard not to,” answered Kelly quietly.
“You don’t understand—”
Kelly cut in. “It’s none of my business.”
“You are right!” she snapped. “It is none of your business. I don’t know why I am even bothering to explain to you!”
Kelly should have let it go but couldn’t. “In your husband’s bed!” he exclaimed.
“We were not in my husband’s bed!” Her voice was raised now. “We were in my bed! You are sleeping in my husband’s bed!” She started to leave but turned abruptly to face Kelly, her eyes flashing. “And what is more Dan, my husband knows!”
With that she pivoted on her heel and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Dragan Kelly stared after her, his chin resting firmly on his chest.
The evening meal had passed with little conversation despite the efforts of Gunnar to generate light-hearted banter. Kelly had been determined to take part but Sybilla was sullen and quiet and without her help as an interpreter, the attempt at small talk was doomed.
Later as the three sat around the fire, Gunnar spoke quietly but seriously. His wife immediately picked up on this and became more alert.
“We have a plan,” she translated, “to get you out to the Russians.”
Kelly, reclining and enjoying the warmth of the fire, sat upright with a start. He motioned for Gunnar to continue.
Gunnar spoke, gesturing occasionally, then his wife would take over and translate. The whole process was repeated in bite-sized chunks until the whole of the plan had been revealed. Sybilla spoke in the first person as if the plan was her own:
“Tomorrow I will receive a telegram from Bjornstad, that’s a village in the next valley. It will advise me that my sister is ill, and suggest I visit. I will have no difficulty getting leave from the German Commander, Jürgen, as I know him well.” She coloured slightly as she relayed the last part, but Kelly inconspicuously averted his gaze from both Sybilla and Gunnar.
“I will leave for Bjornstad tomorrow afternoon with my brother Hansy. We will return in two days’ time. My sister will have made a full recovery.”
“But where do I fit into this?” asked Kelly.
“You will be Hansy,” she replied quietly. “He will come to this cottage where you will exchange clothes. He will remain in the cottage when we leave.”
“But
