Dive in the Sun (17 page)

Curtis leaned forward, his mouth half open, his eyes wide with concentrated effort. Then he heard it for the first time. The uneven swish of grass, and the soft crunch of sand, as cautious footsteps groped their way along the side of the hill.

He heard, too, the rasp of Taylor’s breath, and
the
soft moan of the wind across the top of the bushes.

With the wind in his ears, Curtis repeatedly lost the direction of the footsteps, but with each lull he heard the sounds getting steadily louder and nearer, and he gripped the knife with sudden determination. Nothing must interfere with the plan now. Nothing and nobody.

If only he knew where Duncan had gone. He held his breath, realizing that the sounds had stopped.

Curtis raised his foot with elaborate care and stepped nearer to the bushes. His sleeve brushed against Taylor’s taut body, and he moved his mouth against the man’s cold ear.

‘Right below us,’ he whispered. ‘Think I can hear his feet on those stones!’

‘Let’s get ’im fer Gawd’s sake!’ Taylor’s voice shook with suppressed despair. ‘I can’t stand much more!’

Curtis nodded briefly and held the knife before him like a rapier. He tucked his chin into his chest and waited, eyes on the edge of the slope.

It was even darker and, but for the distant whitecaps, there was no division between land and sky, sand or sea.

Curtis took half a step forward as another twig cracked, and the footsteps started again.

From the corner of his eye he saw a slight hardening to the outline of the ledge and as he turned, the pale oval of a face rose cautiously over the long grass.

His feet moved with sudden fury and he flung himself down the slope, the knife lifting above his head, as with a sob he reached out for the wavering shape, which had halted, trapped on the loose edge of the final slope.

With a thud their bodies met, but even as they crashed down on to the ground, Curtis’s fingers had found the throat, and savagely he forced backwards into the grass, the knife held poised and ready.

Taylor slithered down beside him with a grunt. ‘Got ’im! Well done, Skipper!’ he panted.

A cloud parted, and as their spreadeagled forms were bathed in the unearthly light, Curtis trembled, and allowed the choking throat beneath his fingers to relax.

Two terrified eyes stared up at him like black pools, and he felt the long hair across the back of his hand as the girl moved her head and retched weakly.

One bare leg was pinned beneath him, and the other was crooked against his chest in a pitiful defence, while from her parted lips her sobbing breath jerked in quick, painful gasps.

Duncan rose from the ground like a shadow, the moonlight giving his tousled hair a wild halo. ‘All clear below!’ he jerked. ‘Nobody else followin’.’ He motioned to the knife which still hovered uncertainly in the air. ‘O.K., Ralph, finish him off!’ He dropped to his knees and gasped with amazement. ‘Jesus! A dame! That’s all we needed!’ He continued to stare as Curtis sat back on his haunches and slipped the knife into his belt. ‘What the hell’s she doin’ up here, eh?’ He rubbed his arm angrily. ‘Better finish her off anyway. Can’t risk an alarm now!’

Before the moon disappeared, Curtis saw the girl’s hand move gingerly to her throat, and for a moment there was a strained silence as she coughed and tried to speak.

‘It’s the girl I saw this morning on the horse,’ Curtis said, and he reached out to touch the thick braid of hair. ‘I didn’t expect to see
her
again!’

‘Please! Please listen to me!’ Her voice was husky and strained, and the three men watched her with mixed emotions, caught off guard by the sound of their own tongue. It was a soft voice, yet full of strength and without fear.

‘I was looking for you. I knew that you were here on the hill.’ She broke off and coughed painfully for a few moments. ‘I thought you were going to kill me,’ she continued, the words directed at Curtis’s dim shape, ‘the … the knife was ver’ close!’

Curtis drew his hand away from her hair and stood up abruptly. ‘How did you know where to find us?’ His voice was flat and impersonal, as if he had not heard the tremor in her tone.

‘Your friend, the young officer. He told me!’

There was another short silence. The wind moved amongst the leaves, and Duncan knelt closer to the girl, as if unsure of his hearing. It was Curtis who acted first, and with such speed that the others jumped back in surprise.

He reached down and seized her wrist, dragging her to her feet, until her face was almost against his, her teeth bared with pain.

‘What did you say?
Who
told you?’ His blood was pounding madly in his brain, and he was unconscious of her cry of protest, as he twisted her wrist savagely. ‘Now be careful what you say, for if you’re lying, I’ll kill you with less feeling than stamping on a beetle!’ His voice was dangerously calm, but the force of his words made her twisting body go suddenly limp and still.

‘It is true! He told me! You must see that I speak the truth. He is a prisoner at my father’s house. He was caught by the soldiers this afternoon.’

Curtis felt her body tremble, but he held his grip, and nodded curtly. ‘Well, go on! What else?’

She dropped her face, and seemed all at once to shrink before him. ‘They will shoot him at daybreak’—she cried out sharply as he twisted her arm further—‘unless, unless we do something to rescue him!’

‘
We?
What’s this then? Have you changed sides all of a sudden?’

‘Steady on, Ralph!’ Duncan was on his feet, his words casual. ‘She may be trying to help. She didn’t have to come here, did she?’

‘It’s a trap.’ Curtis stared down at her bowed head, as if to penetrate her defences and find the truth. ‘They’ve made Ian talk, and have sent her out as the bait!’

‘It is not so! I want to help him, and you!’

‘Let’s hear her story, Ralph.’ The voice was more insistent. ‘Can’t do any harm.’

Curtis released her wrist with a jerk and she shrank away from him, rubbing the bare skin with her hand.

‘All right. Talk. And make it quick!’ Curtis turned his back and stared out to sea, breathing quickly.

She turned to the others, her hands outspread. ‘We can go to the house,’ she began eagerly, ‘he is in a small storeroom at the side of the kitchen, you could——’ She halted as Duncan waved his hand to interrupt. He still held the pistol,
and
the steel gleamed dully as it passed over her head.

‘Hold on, sister. One thing at a time. Who are you anyway?’

‘I am Carla Zecchi; my father is the mayor here and of the neighbouring villages.’ There was a touch of pride in her voice.

‘Big stuff, eh, George?’ Duncan spoke thoughtfully, his eyes resting on her slim figure. ‘Where does your father come in to all this?’

She shrugged. ‘Your armies have invaded my country, and the Germans are already worried about our government. They think we might not wish to remain their ally when it is inevitable that the country will be destroyed by continuing the fight. My father does not know I am here. No one does, except for your friend.’ Her shoulders lifted slightly. ‘
He
trusted me!’

‘He didn’t have much choice maybe?’ Duncan rubbed his chin, then irritably thrust the gun into his holster. ‘How is he? Is he all right?’

‘He is well. But time is short, we must act now!’

Curtis spoke sharply over his shoulder. ‘Ask her why she is doing this!’

‘Well? What’s the answer to that?’ asked Duncan.

‘My father will be one of the first to be arrested if the Badoglio government tries to parley with your army commanders. He has supported the régime right from the start, and the Germans would try to make an example of him.’ She shuddered. ‘That must not happen. If I can help you now, perhaps you will be able to help my father to escape with you!’

‘How exactly?’

‘I know a house to the south of here, where you could hide, and when your army reaches that place, you can tell them how my father helped you to escape. They would not be ungrateful.’ She stopped, breathing jerkily, her hand rubbing at her throat.

‘Does he know about all this?’ Duncan looked quickly towards Curtis, but his figure was unmoved.

‘No! He would never agree. He is a patriot. He does not think our government will ask for an armistice. He is loyal only to them.’ She tossed her head angrily. ‘He is mistaken. I know it!’

‘You could be right there!’ He turned again to Curtis. ‘Well, Ralph, what d’you think?’

Curtis jerked his head. ‘Keep an eye on her, George, Steve and I will have a little yarn about this.’

She watched them quietly, her legs gleaming in the pale moonlight. ‘I thought the British were kinder to their prisoners than this.’ She said it with neither bitterness nor anger, and Taylor raised his hand anxiously.

‘Quiet! D’you want to upset the skipper again!’

‘So he is the captain? He is a hard and cruel man, I think!’

Taylor eyed her furiously. ‘We seen some of your bloody Wop soljers behavin’ like gents this afternoon, I don’t bloody well think! You jus’ keep nice an’ quiet, an’ maybe things’ll work out as you say. O.K.?’

Curtis and Duncan stood side by side on the far edge of the hill.

‘I think she’s telling the truth anyway, Ralph. In fact, I’d stake my life on it!’

‘You may have to!’ Curtis shook his head impatiently. ‘I believe her story up to a point. But there’s a lot she’s not told us yet. Still, the idea’s all right. It’s given me a new lease of life!’

‘You mean we’re goin’ to this flamin’ house and hide out till the pongoes arrive?’ Duncan was incredulous. ‘What about the ship? And the poor bloody soldiers aboard?’

‘Shut up! Keep your voice down!’ Curtis glared at him through the darkness. ‘Of course my plan still goes. But there’s no need to tell her about it. We’ll make for her father’s house now. I’ve already had a good look at it, I believe, and get Ian away. If that works, we’ll get on to phase two, that suit you?’

Duncan gripped his arm. ‘Sure, Ralph, you certainly are a crafty cove! You were a bit tough on her though. I thought you were goin’ to bite her head off!’

‘I’ve no time for any of them.’ Curtis stared across at the two dark figures. ‘But come on, we’ve got to pump her some more yet!’

The girl watched him apprehensively. ‘You decide?’

‘How many troops at the house?’ Curtis ignored her angry
intake
of breath. ‘Is that armoured car still there?’ He watched her reaction to his words with cold satisfaction.

‘German soldiers nearly all gone. Six are left in the house as guards, but most troops had gone by this afternoon. They have gone to the fighting in the south,’ she added.

‘I see. Nobody else then?’

‘There are the local Carabinieri, but they are stationed at the other side of the village. Their officer is at the house, too, and of course Heinz …’ she faltered, ‘I mean that
Leutnant
Beck is there also.’

‘Heinz is it?’ Curtis laughed softly. ‘That’s the German officer from the schooner, I take it?’

‘Yes.’ The answer was guarded.

‘How long will he be there? He might upset things if we arrive unexpectedly.’

She shook her head. ‘No, that is impossible. He is leaving on the ship at midnight. He is sailing with the wounded soldiers.’

‘Midnight, eh?’ Curtis answered casually, but he knew that Duncan had followed his train of thought.

‘Right, you lead on,
signorina
, we’ll get into position by the house now and spy out the land.’

Duncan was looking at his watch. ‘Nearly nine o’clock. Things are gettin’ interestin’! By the by, Ralph, how do we aim to spring Ian from this place?’

They all looked at the girl.

‘He has one guard. You will be able to silence him, yes? The other soldiers are in a small lodge on the other side of the estate. It will be safe.’

‘And the policeman? That
gentleman
we saw on the beach today?’ Curtis eyed her bleakly.

‘He will be going to the schooner. Some of his men are already aboard.’

‘Well, well.’ Duncan rubbed his hands together, and Curtis looked at him warningly, but the Australian merely smiled and continued to rasp his hands together.

‘Let’s go,’ snapped Curtis suddenly, and with the girl’s slim shadow ahead of them, they scrambled in single file down to the deserted beach.

Curtis glanced sideways as Duncan tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Good about Ian, eh, Ralph? I know how you felt about leavin’ without bein’ sure!’

He nodded. ‘I only hope he
is
still safe!’

They hurried on in silence, occasionally stumbling across a hillock or mound of sand, or halting to listen for any sounds from the village.

The sea seemed angrier now, and the water sloshed and gurgled into little runnels across the beach, whilst in the bay the waves crowded together in a disturbed fury of noise.

Curtis watched the girl narrowly as she twisted and turned along the edge of the beach, towards the steep hill at the end of the cove.

He felt no fatigue or weariness of any kind, all the anguish and pain of the last days dropping away like a cloak, and walked like a man possessed of some cold, terrible force which drove him forward, calm, and dedicated to the task in hand. It was like the old days, he thought, no time for regrets or hopes. Just the uncertain objective ahead.

They climbed the long, curving track, the girl’s feet beginning to lag and falter with the effort of the pace. Once she stopped and looked back at him. ‘Can we rest for a moment?’

He gestured sharply. ‘Keep going! You said yourself that there’s little time!’

Taylor sighed with astonishment when they reached the first of the fountains in the dark garden.

‘Cor! Like ’Ampton Court!’ His voice was normal, and Curtis was again grateful for the supreme standard of toughness required in the submarine service.

The house was totally dark, the blacked-out windows shining in the moonlight like great blind eyes.

They lay in a line behind a flower bed, the girl between Curtis and Taylor. Her breath was painful, and she seemed near to collapse. Curtis tapped her on the arm, suddenly conscious of her smooth skin, cool beneath his fingers.