Dive in the Sun (15 page)

At this point the colonel pointed to Jervis’s bandage, and barked a question.

‘The Colonel asks how you managed to treat your injury?’ The officer’s voice sounded strained.

Without turning his head, Jervis spoke from between his clenched teeth. ‘Tell him about the poor wretch who helped me, and how your gallant soldiers taught these gutless Italians a lesson!’ He darted a glance at the mayor, and was gratified to see a brief look of anger darken the smooth face.

The colonel looked from one to the other, and then at his watch. As if to add to the urgency of the proceedings, one of the telephones whirred impatiently.

The colonel spoke sharply into the mouthpiece, his eyes searching across one of the maps. With a grunt, he slipped the telephone into its case and bundled the maps together into a flat folder. He lifted his eyes quickly and stared at Jervis, his face tired and suddenly old.

‘The Colonel says that you will be detained here for the night. Tomorrow you will be shot!’

Jervis staggered as if he had received a blow in the heart. He couldn’t speak or even move his mouth, which had suddenly gone quite dry.

The colonel walked slowly around the desk, his eyes sweeping the room as if to ensure he had left nothing behind. He halted between Jervis and the door, and his tone was quiet, almost gentle. Then he nodded to the mayor who still sat in his chair, and marched briskly from the room.

Jervis turned to see the door close, and met the cold stare of the other officer. The man’s face was expressionless as he said, ‘Herr Colonel said it is better to die a brave man, than to be interrogated by the Gestapo!’ His shoulders seemed to sag. ‘He is right. Be thankful.’ He gestured with the pistol. ‘March! I will take you to your quarters.’

Jervis faltered, knowing that his face was ashen, but still he forced himself to speak to the mayor.

‘There are British wounded in the village. What can you do for them? You must do something to help!’

‘You do not think of yourself? That is good.’ He studied Jervis closely. ‘You are brave. Never fear, the wounded are being taken care of. They will go north by sea. The roads are filled with, er, military traffic. There is no room for anyone going the other way, I fear!’

Jervis tore his eyes away, and looked once more at the sea. I must hang on, can’t break down now! His lip trembled.

‘Thank you, sir. I feel better now!’

He crossed to the door, the German behind him.

There was a roar of engines, and he heard several vehicles crunching down the drive. He noticed that the luggage was missing from the hall, and only one soldier stood by the entrance.

He glanced involuntarily at the chest. The helmet and goggles had also gone. He walked blindly down a white-walled passage, the colonel’s words ringing in his brain. Tomorrow you will be shot.

They reached an open door to one side of the long passage,
and
involuntarily Jervis stopped and drew back, the bare, stone-walled room which confronted him brought home the hopelessness and complete collapse of his final position.

The German’s voice was crisp and alert, as if he, too, sensed the awful finality of the forbidding room.

‘Inside,’ he snapped, ‘it would be stupid to resist!’

Jervis’s shoulders slumped, and he walked slowly through the door. It had once been a storeroom of some kind, and the rough walls were lined with wooden shelves, empty but for scraps of old straw and torn paper.

A camp bed stood in readiness in one corner, and a crude bucket in the other.

Jervis stared round unbelievingly, his trapped gaze taking in the bareness of the room, the lack of even a window, and the armed sentry who now stood watchfully behind the officer.

‘Food will be brought shortly. I would advise you to eat, then try to sleep.’ The German’s tone was almost matter-of-fact. ‘The sentry does not speak English, and he has been told to shoot, should you try to escape! Is there anything you wish to say?’ One eyebrow lifted slightly.

Jervis clenched and unclenched his fists, and tried to clear his brain. ‘How … I mean when will it be?’ His voice was hoarse, and in the confined space of the room his breathing sounded fast and uneven.

‘First light. Five o’clock, I think.’

‘I see.’

How unimportant he seemed to be to these people. He was already dead in their eyes. He remembered how the colonel had been impatient to leave with the regiment, the blowing up of the dock no longer important. Those details could be left to someone else to worry about.

The German looked at his watch and sighed. ‘I am going. I wish you luck!’ He smiled briefly. ‘Perhaps I, too, shall be joining you soon!’

‘I thought perhaps you might be staying to …’ Jervis faltered.

‘I am a soldier—not an executioner! I will follow my regiment, and see how goes the battle.’

He spoke sharply to the sentry, who stood stiffly to attention, his eyes fixed on Jervis, his lips moving slightly as if repeating his officer’s orders.

The officer paused in the doorway. ‘Good-bye,
Herr Leutnant
, be brave!’ With those words, he stamped away down the passage, his boots echoing mockingly back into the room.

Jervis looked at the sentry, who stood stiffly by the open door, his Schmeisser automatic pistol cradled across his forearm, its barrel moving slightly in time with the soldier’s breathing.

He was little more than a boy, tall and gawky. His ungainly limbs were distorted by the huge boots and the heavy steel helmet which seemed to make his narrow face even more insignificant.

Younger than I am, he thought, and just hoping that I’ll make a run for it. Almost without thinking, he stepped halfway towards the door. The Schmeisser rose a couple of inches, until it was level with Jervis’s chest. The soldier’s thin mouth split into a wide grin, the bared teeth giving him a slightly crazy look. ‘Bang!’ he said, and laughed delightedly at his joke.

Jervis turned his back, and forced himself to lie down on the bed. By twisting his head to the wall he was able to blot out the sentry, who still chuckled in the open doorway, and as he concentrated his aching eyes on the rows of uneven bricks, he thought again of the way in which he had already been forgotten. He rubbed the palms of his hands angrily across his eyes until the pain forced back the tears which threatened to lay bare his misery and fear to the watching soldier. God, why this way? Why didn’t I fight it out in the hut? His tortured thoughts ran on in their haphazard groping for an answer, but only bricks were there to mock him.

The house seemed very silent, and he decided that it must be nearly dark outside. He darted a glance at the door. The gun was still rigid and unwavering. Perhaps he’ll be one of the firing squad. Or maybe they don’t do it that way. Wait until I fall asleep, and then … a trickle of sweat ran coldly across his cheek, as he remembered the sentry’s gun.

By an almost physical effort, he thought of his father, and the sun slanting across his mother’s grey hair as she pruned the roses. His father had always seemed to be rather a forbidding man, but as Jervis closed his eyes to try to picture him more clearly, he could only see the kindness in the old man’s face.

But of course, he thought dully, they think I’m dead already. The submarine will have been reported missing, and I shall be merely remembered, as I am remembering them. The cold finality of it seemed to sober him, and he lay wide eyed, staring at the flaking ceiling. His breathing became calmer, and his limbs started to relax.

It’s funny how death doesn’t seem half so terrible, once you know it’s inevitable, he thought, and I must make sure that I don’t let myself down when the moment comes. The corners of his mouth drooped, and for an instant the sickness began to mount again inside him, so he turned his thoughts back again, it was useless anyway to look forward.

He stiffened, as the sounds of voices drifted down the passage. One, a woman’s voice, called out sharply in Italian, and the other was swallowed up by the banging of a door.

The sentry drew his feet together, as the first voice drew nearer. It changed suddenly into fluent German, and the soldier nodded violently, his helmet jerking forward over his admiring eyes. Jervis stared at her coldly, a feeling of resentment and anger changing the girl who now stood inside the room, from a creature of beauty to another part of a scheme to mock and degrade him.

She stood quite still, looking down at him, her bare brown arms silky beneath the naked light bulb. She was wearing a plain, dark green dress with a leather belt, the tightness of which helped to accentuate the rich curves of her body.

Her dark eyes were almost black with the contempt and hatred which she directed at Jervis, and her wide mouth trembled as she spoke softly over her shoulder in German. The sentry, who was peering round the edge of the door,
tittered
, and settled down comfortably to watch, as the girl moved slowly across the room, stooping slightly, as if to make quite sure she took in every detail of Jervis’s face.

He sat up slowly, and was about to rise to his feet, when the Schmeisser motioned him to remain seated.

So that she can mock me to her heart’s content, he thought bitterly. He stared fixedly at her slim, bare legs, and was half tempted to throw himself at her. Only a few feet separated them. He tingled at the idea. It would be one last gesture.

He went suddenly rigid. The girl continued pacing the floor, but her sneering voice had changed to English. He looked up, startled, and her eyes flashed with anxiety and sudden urgency.

‘Keep your head down! There is little time, so do as I say, and I might be able to help you!’

For a moment his eyes held hers. She was no longer sneering, her mouth was trembling with desperation, and he lowered his head, so that neither she nor the sentry should see the faint hope in his eyes.

She breathed deeply, and carried on with her pacing. As she spoke, the sentry tittered happily, quite convinced that she was continuing her attack in English.

‘Listen to me. I will help you to escape, if you will tell me where your friends are!’

Jervis’s hope changed into a sudden cold wariness, and he sat forward on the edge of the bed, his eyes following her feet, but his mind again on guard.

‘I know you lied to the colonel. I saw one of your friends on the beach this morning. Tell me where I can find them, and I will fetch them to you.’

Jervis shook his head. ‘I am alone. I don’t know what you are talking about.’

She darted her hand beneath his chin and jerked up his head so that her eyes held his in a silent plea. ‘Please! I tell the truth, I saw one of them today!’

The shock of her smooth skin against his neck made him
search
her face with new interest. ‘Describe the man you saw.’

She stamped her foot, but there was frustration not anger in her eyes. ‘There is no time!’ She saw his obstinate mouth, and she darted a quick glance at the door. ‘He was tall and fair. He had two stripes on his shoulder, and he was carrying a pistol! Now do you believe me?’

Jervis struggled with his emotions. It could be a trap to draw the others into the net. That must have been Curtis she saw. A little breath of warmth moved within him, but he forced himself to consider the girl’s words. ‘Why didn’t you tell the colonel about this?’

‘I cannot tell you that. You must trust me. Please!’

She stood over him, her hands clenched and her body trembling with emotion.

‘It could be a trap.’ Jervis watched her eyes, and saw the despair which followed his words. He knew that he was going to tell her, and he knew, too, that by so doing, he was risking more than just his own life, and the few hours left until dawn.

‘The hill at the end of the beach. By the fishing boats. They might be there. I don’t know.’ As the short sentences jerked from him, he instantly regretted his outburst, and looked up at her with sudden fear.

But for a moment her wide eyes softened, and she nodded quickly. ‘I will go, before someone suspects. I am going to hit you now, I am sorry!’ With that, she struck Jervis a ringing blow on the cheek, and as he reeled back across the bed, she stepped quickly from the room.

He sat up, gingerly feeling his face. The blow had somehow cleared away his doubts about her, and he felt a tremor of excitement run through his body, which even the jeering laugh of the sentry did nothing to dispel.

He met the sentry’s stare calmly. You wait, my lad. If the skipper comes you’ll laugh the other side of your face.

He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. The girl had been a link, no matter how frail, with the outside. And from the outside, help would come, he was sure of that. He had to be. It was all he had left.

CURTIS SETTLED HIS
elbows more comfortably in the grass, and craned his head as high as he dared to watch the first of the lorries as it trundled awkwardly down the track and on to the beach. As the front wheels tested the strength of the sand, the driver revved his engine impatiently, the blue diesel fumes hanging listlessly on the still air. The villagers followed the lorry in an anxious, silent crowd, occasionally pointing either at the beach or the lorry, but mostly watching the uniformed figures who waved at the driver, or shouted urgently whenever the wheels threatened to leave the narrow track.

Curtis had been on watch when he had heard the lorries halt at the top of the village, and after waking his exhausted companions, had fretted impatiently, and constantly changed his position to try to see what was happening. He had seen some of the returning fishermen run with their women up the track, ignoring their nets and showing an indifference to their boats which was completely alien to their kind anywhere.

‘Somethin’s up, Ralph.’ Duncan had come completely awake, his eyes narrowed against the sun. ‘Reckon it’s a search party?’

They had felt for their scanty weapons, and Curtis had placed Taylor at the rear approach to the hill to watch for any new activity, but after what seemed like an eternity, a few uniformed Italians had sauntered down to the beach accompanied by the captain of the schooner. And now, the first of the lorries had started to move towards the sea.