The Secret Generations (34 page)

He was not as tired as usual, but still fended off her myriad questions; the chatter interrupted by Nanny, arriving with young Donald. There was happiness, many kisses, and some tears. Then James went off to take a hot bath and change. It was almost eight-thirty when they sat down for dinner.

James told his wife that, by rights, he should have reported to his superiors on arrival in London. ‘So, Mrs James Railton, not a word. If anyone asks, I did not get here until well after midnight.’

‘
You know what I’m like about time, darling. Can’t tell midday from midnight.’ She put on a funny accent, meant to indicate an alluring Germany spy, ‘Zo, your secret iss save wiz me.’ Margaret Mary had a child-like sense of humour which appealed to James.

‘
You should really join the Service, my dear,’ eyes alive with the pleasure of being with her. ‘I’d say you have a natural talent. They’d plonk you down somewhere in Belgium, and you could vamp all the German officers.’

‘
What on earth does that mean – “Vamp”,’ she giggled.

‘
Well, I’m told the men use the word to describe eating something. But I have it on the highest authority that it really means to attract men by using your feminine charms.’

‘
Oh!’ This time the laugh was more wicked. ‘Can I “vamp” you, darling? Soon. It’s perfectly safe, the doctor… Oh!’

‘
What about the doctor?’

‘
Damn! I was saving it as a special surprise.’

‘
What? For heaven’s sake, Maggie Mary?’

Her face blanked into innocence.
‘We’ve done it again, darling. You’re going to be a father for the second time.’

His eyes became brighter than ever.
‘You all right?’

‘
I’m fine, darling. You’ve been away so often, and for so long. I’m over two months now, and Dr Madingly says everything’s in order. I can live a perfectly normal life for the next few months. That doctor’s quite a card. He stressed it could be a
normal
life, meaning fun and games.’

James gave a mock sigh.
‘I do find you an oddity M-M. You look as though butter wouldn’t melt, yet you’re always craving for… Well…’

‘
Oh, don’t be so stuffy. Of course I am. It’s not only men who get hot and bothered. I’d understand it if you weren’t such a goat yourself.’

He rose and walked over to her, one hand caressing her shoulder as he bent to kiss her hair. The smell of it gave him the usual wink of desire, and his hand dropped to her breast. She covered it, pressed, and then said,
‘Go and finish your pudding, James. We’ll get to bed sooner if you’d only eat a shade faster.’

Later, lying in the darkness of their room, she asked him how long he would be able to stay? He told her the truth, as always. He had to see people in the morning. There was no way of telling.

‘What’s it been like this time?’

‘
Nothing much. No problems.’

They lay in silence for another five minutes. Then she asked, very quietly,
‘James? Saturday last?’

‘
Mmmm?’ He sounded sleepy, though remained alert. Last Saturday had been 21 November.

‘
Were you in any danger? Please tell me. I don’t want details, but it’s important. Last Saturday morning.’

‘
I suppose some might say it was dangerous. Why?’

‘
It sounds silly. I was in the drawing room. For no reason I began to play – Chopin. I didn’t play well, it was that difficult one, the Sonata in B flat minor…’

‘
The one with the dead march thing in it?’

‘
Musicians wouldn’t quite put it like that, my darling, but you’re learning. Yes, the one with ‘the dead march thing’ in it. That’s the point, I could hardly get through it. I began to play the piece, then I felt you were very close. There was this really horrible feeling that something had happened. It was vivid, like a nightmare; then it went, and I knew you were safe. It was so real. You were here, James, in the house, by the piano. I could feel you, almost hear you, as I played.’

James stayed awake for a long time, pondering on whether he should tell her about the way he had heard a piano just before the aeroplanes came.

*

James had not seen C since the middle of September; and was puzzled by the odd looks they gave him on his arrival at the house in Northumberland Avenue, where the Service was housed, now under the auspices of the Admiralty.

The duty officer went away, leaving James to cool his heels in the small waiting room; but, when the young man came back, all appeared natural again. James was taken upstairs to the now-familiar office, but it was not C’s voice that called ‘Enter!’ at the knock.

The duty officer stood to one side, allowing James to cross the threshold alone. The door closed softly, and, instead of C, James found himself looking into the cold eyes of Giles Railton.

‘Uncle Giles, sir. I’m sorry, I was supposed to see the CSS.’ He used the more formal and correct initials that stood for Chief of Secret Service.

‘
Sit down. James, I fear you’ll have to make do with me.’ Giles’ eyes never left his nephew, as though he was searching for some flaw. ‘You have a report?’

James gave a weary sigh.
‘Yes.’ He had risen early to put down all that he could about the Friedrichshafen raid. ‘Brilliant operation, but I’m afraid they did little more than dent morale. Not much damage.’

Giles pursed his lips, muttering a faint damn. Aloud, he said the two pilots who had got back safely were given a heroes
’ welcome. ‘The French presented them both with the Legion d’Honneur.’

‘
Well deserved.’ James nodded.

Giles grunted, leafing through the report.

‘The CSS, sir…?’ James began.

Slowly, Giles put down the papers.
‘C has had an accident. I saw him in hospital last night…’

‘
Oh Lord, not flying?’ He knew his Chief’s passion, like his own, for aeroplanes.

Giles shook his head.
‘No, not flying. For your ears only, James. The CSS was involved in a bad road accident last month, in France. Tragedy really. His son was driving and lost control. The young man was killed, and C’s lost a leg.’

James
’ brow creased in vicarious pain, automatically thinking of Caspar.

‘
He did something quite extraordinary,’ Giles continued. ‘After the crash, he came round to find his leg half severed. Then he heard the boy crying out. You know that damned great knife he carries?’ James nodded. He had often seen C brandishing it. ‘Well.’ Giles drew a deep breath, ‘C took it to his own leg. Carved his way through what was left in order to get to his son.’

James winced. It was just the kind of thing C
would
do. There was silence between them, then James asked if his uncle would be giving him the next briefing.

‘
Yes.’

No more; so, in an attempt to lighten the conversation, James asked what it was to be.
‘Want me to fly myself into Prussia and shoot Kaiser Bill?’

His uncle looked at him with Arctic bleakness.
‘There are some things we don’t joke about. Your wife will be pleased. You’re going to be in England for a while.’

This was the last thing he expected.

‘You’ll be working hard enough.’ Giles still did not smile. ‘I’ve cleared the whole thing with C. You’ll be doing an extra German course…’

‘
But my German’s…’

‘
Not quite good enough to pass as a born Berliner.’

‘
Well?’ James finally asked.

‘
Well, sir. You know about your cousin – Marie?’ Giles’ mouth was set in a thin line of petulance.

‘
Of course. Though it’s never discussed – like defecating.’

‘
No.’ Bitterness hardened in Giles’ eyes. ‘However, the security of this country – and the Service – may be at stake. Listen…’ Without naming Charles, Giles told of the latest information – that Marie might have been seduced, with the sole intention of getting her to Berlin and somehow using her. ‘It doesn’t excuse her actions. But something must be done soon. You, James, will be going to Berlin, probably in early January, to bring her out. If you can’t do that, then your orders are to make certain sure that she never comes out. Not ever. You understand?’

*

On 26 November the battleship HMS
Bulwark
, anchored off Sheerness, suddenly exploded. Over seven hundred officers and men died in the violent, unexpected carnage.

‘
The Fisherman’ was fully activated. On the following day he killed again – one man this time. And that particular murder gave him more pleasure than that given by the hundreds who had died, blown apart by the bomb constructed by himself in the privacy of a guest house bedroom. At the time, nobody linked the sabotage with the murder.

His masters were well pleased with the sinking of
Bulwark
, and Steinhauer made a journey to England: not only to congratulate his agent, but also to oversee the running of one of Nicolai’s main ploys within the heart of the enemy citadel. The German Chief of Intelligence had, at that time, no idea that it was one of Steinhauer’s people who had brought about the sinking of the battleship. The story put out by the British maintained the explosion was an accident. MO5, and the Special Branch, began an investigation, but came to no definite conclusions.

*

Kent, Ohio, United States of America.

28th October 1914

My Beloved Sara,

Forgive me for addressing you in this way, but it is the truth, and I would be foolish to deny it. Lord knows when you will get this, as I hear mail between our countries is taking an age.

As you can see, I am in Ohio – staying with my brother, Joe, who is on furlough from the Army. He goes back next week, but returns for Christmas which we are all to spend in Washington, with the old folks at home – Dad and Mom hate that expression, but we tease them with it.

The envelope had taken until today, 7 December, to get
from Ohio to Redhill, and would have crossed with Sara’s hurried and rather frantic letter telling Dick about both Caspar and Rupert.

He went on to write about how the countryside was beautiful in what he called
‘the fall’, and telling her he was doing some test flying as a favour to his Uncle Bradley – the Colonel in the US Army.

Dick also said how much he longed to see Sara, and how he missed Haversage, and Redhill. Then he continued:

Washington was dreary, though I shall have to take care about what I write. President Wilson is a kind of paradox. He really is more of a schoolmaster than President, though very approachable. He has two dominating thoughts: to keep America out of the war in Europe, and help bring about peace; though I am pretty certain he has no way of knowing how as yet.

The great
‘Duty To My Country’ turns out to be a bit of a farce, and quite impossible as it has some bearing on your family. I know you will understand the riddles.

When I first arrived in Washington, Dad introduced me to an Army officer, a Captain Ralph Van Deman. Van Deman wanted to talk with me privately, and it turned out that he knows all about that
‘far side of the moon’ we discussed at Redhill. The Army Staff do not care for the Captain, or his ideas, but he is tough and will go over anyone’s head. He has certainly ‘sold’ his ideas to my Father, and we both talked with the President who said he could take no official side in the business at this time.

Now, here is the real end of the line, as far as I
am concerned. Somehow they all know I am friendly with your family – I mean the one you married into. It has been suggested that I return, improve my relationship with the Rs, and pick brains. I said I’d no intention of using personal friendships to ferret out information. The President was calm. I am sure he understood.

He ended on a very different note:

When I last left Redhill, I wanted to return in a matter of hours, to tell you, again, how I feel. You linger in my mind. When I walk around the lanes and fields here, I talk to you in my head and, last evening, when I was flying, I watched the sun setting over the horizon, lashing the fading trees with gold, and I so wanted you to be there to see it. There is so much I want to share with you. You are the first thing in mind when I wake, and the last thing before I go to sleep. Between those times you seldom leave me. So, Sara, I am coming back to you as soon as I can. I shall then do the honest thing and ask you to marry me. I pray you will say yes.

Darling Sara
– forgive me for being so outspoken – give my best to each and every one, and please write. A letter here will always reach me. I shall be with you as soon as I can get a passage in the New Year. Please be waiting. I need you, and want to be everything to you.

Yours in love for ever,

Dick.

Sara put down the letter, her eyes moist. She sat at her desk, in The General
’s study, looking out across the gardens. The trees were now bare, and a fine, cold drizzle of rain swept from the downland. Soon, in turn, the rain would become snow.