Dive in the Sun (32 page)

Curtis’s voice was cool. ‘Some sort of Home Guard, I imagine. It doesn’t matter I suppose, what it is!’

A man stepped slowly from the watching line of figures. He was small and lithe, his body distorted by the gleaming bandoliers of ammunition criss-crossed over his shoulders and the cape loosely hanging from his back.

He stood like a small rock, as Zecchi poured a torrent of Italian into his attentive ear. His eyes were fixed on the three figures at the other end of the road, but even across the moon-bathed track, Curtis could see the strange watchfulness of the man and the evident interest he was showing.

‘Shall we make a run for it?’ Duncan’s voice was a mere whisper.

Curtis didn’t turn his head. ‘They’re behind us, too. Don’t look round!’

He stiffened, as followed by Zecchi, the little man started to walk slowly towards him.

He halted a few feet away and bowed mockingly. ‘I speak
English
. Tell me who you are!’ His voice was tired, almost caressing.

‘Hasn’t he told you? We are British officers.’

‘Of course. I just wanted to hear you speak.’ His thin face split into a grin. In the half-light his face looked evil. ‘And this is Giulio Zecchi, I believe? He has told me about your strange journey, but enough of that.’ He jerked angrily, as Zecchi grabbed his arm and pointed at Curtis.

‘Seize them now! We will take the ship easily, there are only a few miserable wounded aboard!’ He drew himself up, his composure returned. ‘You were foolish to think we Italians could not fight, Lieutenant!’ His voice trembled with excitement and contempt. ‘I will order these men to take you to the nearest German outpost! They will be very glad to deal with you!’

The little man smiled again. ‘I understand you have no radio on your poor ship, Captain?’ His voice was even more silky.

‘No.’ Curtis sensed a slight movement from Taylor’s hand, and steeled himself.

‘So amusing to speak English again,’ he remarked inconsequently. ‘I was a law student in London, before the war.’ He bowed again, the movement making a beam of moonlight dance along the path of his pistol. ‘Allow me to introduce myself, Captain. I am Ludivico Fanali, once a lawyer, now District Commander of the People’s Liberation Army!’

Curtis stared at him silently, the words not seeming to penetrate his racing thoughts.

He had turned away from Curtis and was regarding Zecchi with cold enjoyment. ‘But for the unfortunate lack of a radio, you would have known that the Italian Government has sued for peace with the Anglo-American armies! There has been a big change here since you were last a lackey of the Germans!’ The last words were harsh, like a lash. ‘So now, Signor Giulio Zecchi, you are
my
prisoner!’

The mayor seemed to shrink. His mouth opened and shut, but nothing but disjointed sounds emerged.

Curtis saw the armed men begin to close in, as their leader
continued
. ‘It is a fortune of war that you tried to destroy the ship’s water supply. But for that, you would have been safe and comfortable in a British prison camp.’ He shrugged. ‘As it is, I now have in my possession one of the filthiest Fascists our poor country produced!’ He laughed. It was a terrible sound. ‘You should be honoured,
signore
! Even down here we have heard of your doings and of the people you have condemned to the forced labour camps to please your other Fascist friends!’ He stepped back, as if unwilling to be infected by him. ‘Say good-bye to the lieutenant! I am sure he has work to do!’

Taylor’s hand trembled on the grenade. He could feel the sweat cold on his spine. Another miracle was happening, and he couldn’t bring himself to understand it.

‘Does that mean we’re all right?’ He stared incredulously as Curtis pulled out his pipe and placed it between his teeth. He had seen him do that many times, immediately after an underwater attack. When things had started to improve and the danger was passing them by. To Taylor it was like a sign from heaven.

‘You are Partisans?’ Curtis had not even realized that he had taken out his pipe, but knew only that he wanted to hug the weird little man who stood so patiently before him.

‘I believe that is what we are called.’ He laughed shortly. ‘We are only just getting accustomed to the idea!’ He became suddenly brisk. ‘You must get back to your ship. At once! There are German patrols in the area, looking for us!’ He smiled apologetically. ‘Father Bernucci informed me of your plight. It is as well that I decided to come.’

‘Why didn’t the Father tell me about the armistice?’ Curtis tried to remember the priest’s sad face.

‘It is as well to be careful. Now please go, Captain.’ His voice was quietly commanding and full of authority. ‘Time is short for all of us.’ He turned to the quivering form of Giulio Zecchi. ‘Especially for him!’

Curtis wavered, a feeling of pity in his heart, as he saw the dark, silent figures jostling closer to the mayor. There was a
sudden
movement from the crowd, and Zecchi whimpered as somebody emptied a can of liquid over his head.

The partisan leader gripped Curtis’s wrist, his fingers hard and cold. ‘Go now! It is better!’

Curtis wrenched his eyes away and pulled Duncan by the arm. ‘Come on, let’s go!’ He had smelt the tang of petrol and knew what was going to happen.

‘We’ll run back to the ship,’ he said harshly, and kicked viciously at Taylor’s boots. He was standing mesmerized by the twisting, gibbering shape of the mayor, as he tried to duck away from the man with the lighted match.

‘Forgive them,’ said the leader simply. ‘They have suffered much, and they have long memories!’

Sickened, the three men started to run down the road. But not before Curtis had seen the writhing figure, wrapped in flames, as it jumped screaming over the edge of the dark cliffs.

Once round the first curve in the road, they halted, and Curtis rubbed his eyes wearily. He heard Taylor retching, and was suddenly aware of the gleaming cigarette case in his bunched fingers. With a feeling of revulsion he hurled it from him and sent it skimming over the cliff edge towards the silent water.

‘Ready chaps?’ His voice was steady, but he was glad of the darkness.

‘Fair enough.’ Duncan fell in step beside him and with Taylor plodding silently behind, they started down the empty road towards the cove.

Jervis crossed the schooner’s darkened deck in quick, nervous steps and hovered at the side of the coaming over the hold. Every available lantern had been placed there to help the funny little Italian doctor who, with the captain, was organizing the wounded soldiers with all the brisk efficiency one might have expected in a well-equipped field hospital.

Jervis glanced anxiously over his shoulder at the dark bulk of the land. The glare of lights from the hold seemed to welcome attention from every direction, and more than once, his heart chilled as he imagined that he heard the sounds of vehicles
from
beyond the hills. He tried to laugh off his growing fear, when he discovered that the sounds were those of distant aircraft, but he found only the sick, empty sense of despair, which had kept him company since the skipper had left to look for the girl’s father.

He walked stiffly to the rail and forced himself to stare along the deserted jetty. Try as he might, he could not avoid looking at the still shape by the mooring bollard, its head gleaming wetly in the moon’s feeble gleam. He swallowed hard and gripped the rail with sudden desperation.

I’m the one, he thought wretchedly. I’ve caused all this. Just because I wanted to appear the big man in front of her. If I hadn’t made such a stupid gesture, the skipper or Steve would soon have discovered the real culprit, and all this might have been avoided. He jerked upright, startled. A faint burst of firing echoed around the invisible cliffs beyond the cove, but before his reeling brain could be brought under control, the silence of the night closed in once more, and he was left listening to his heart.

He felt the sweat trickle across his scalp, and his nostrils quivered like those of a cornered animal. That was automatic fire. Perhaps the skipper was already dead, and Zecchi was on his way to the ship with soldiers. He closed his eyes and saw again the mocking smile of the German officer who had captured him.

‘An example must be made!’ he had said.

He strained his ears into the darkness, his eyes still pressed shut with concentration. There it was again. Some sharp shots, mingled with the heavy thud of another pistol. He forced himself away from the rail and stared round. If the skipper and the others had run into an ambush, then he, Jervis, was in charge of the whole venture. The ship creaked peacefully against the fenders, and beneath him in the hold, he heard a soldier laugh. It was a high pitched sound, and Jervis had to stop himself from running madly to the safety of the aft cabin. A slow, terrible thought began to penetrate his racing brain. Suppose the Italian captain had arranged all this. Or even the girl, Carla. It was possible, and quite within their power.
After
all, he thought wretchedly, the skipper had only the word of the captain, and a promise from the local priest, that everything was safe. He felt his hand on the smooth leather of his holster. He must do something. But what?

His legs quivered as he lowered himself into the hold and stood taking in the scene which shone beneath the lanterns like a crude tapestry. The little doctor was in his shirt-sleeves, but still wearing his wide-brimmed black hat. Across his round paunch a huge watch-chain swung and jerked, as he ducked and pranced around the man who lay on a rough table made from odd boxes and covered with blankets. The soldier, naked from the waist down, watched fascinated as the doctor made a few final adjustments to the leg bandages and then sank back on the table, a small smile on his tight lips.

The doctor pulled off his glasses and polished them vigorously with his handkerchief. He frowned briefly, as the Italian seamen who were pouring boiling water into a small dish, allowed some of the steam to billow across the table, and then his eye fell on Jervis. He nodded and waved his hands around the hold.

‘Ver’ good!’ He nodded again, and beamed at the soldiers. ‘I think we do ver’ well!’

He signalled with his finger to two of the soldiers who were acting as orderlies and, helped by the captain, they removed the man from the table and kicked the dirty dressings into a pail which was overflowing on to the deck.

Jervis watched the girl as she walked out of a darkened corner of the hold, leading the blind soldier by the arm. Her face was pale and strained, and he noticed the streaks of blood on her wrist and on the skirt of her dress, as she moved under the lanterns. She did not appear to see Jervis, and her eyes were dead and dull.

The doctor darted a quick glance at her and rose on tiptoe to speak in Jervis’s ear.

‘Ver’ good girl, eh? She ’as been working like a, like a——’ he broke off and shrugged. ‘But I do not think she will last much more, eh?’ He studied Jervis’s taut features with professional interest, and then with a grunt he turned to the
young
soldier, who was sitting uneasily on the edge of the table.

Sergeant Dunwoody walked shakily across the littered hold, and stared at Jervis suspiciously. He had a further bandage across his forehead, and occasionally his good hand moved gingerly across his face, as if to assure himself that the damage was not more serious. The doctor had been quite angry with him and, aided by the captain, had forced him to sit and rest, but even then he had fidgeted with his pistol and stared round the hold, his eye gleaming with cold rage.

The girl released the soldier’s arm and stepped back. Her elbow touched Jervis’s tunic and she spun round startled, her eyes black with anxiety.

‘Is there no news? Have they come back yet?’

Jervis thought about the shots, but shook his head. ‘Nothing yet. Perhaps he got away.’

She studied him, her mouth slack. Jervis thought she was surprised at his remark, but he no longer trusted his judgment about anything.

‘He killed that man!’ Her voice was low and unsteady, and she spoke slowly, as if repeating a lesson. ‘I cannot understand.’ She looked searchingly at Jervis. ‘All this has unhinged him, perhaps?’ She waited, but he could only stare at her.

‘I wish I knew what was happening!’

The captain joined them, wiping his fat palms with a piece of cloth. ‘That boy is the last.’ He glanced curiously at Jervis and then at the girl. ‘I think I’ll go on deck an’ prepare to leave, eh?’

Jervis blinked and then tightened his mouth. ‘No! Wait!’

The captain paused, a slight frown creasing the smoothness of his brown, egg-like head. ‘For what? Your commander will return soon, an’ we must be ready to go.’

Jervis dropped his hand on to his gun, and saw the captain’s troubled eyes follow it down.

‘What makes you so sure he’ll be back?’ He had to drop his voice to restrain the tremble which crept into it. ‘Suppose you’ve been lying all the time?’ He took a half step forward, and the captain swallowed.

‘He will be back. He will do what he has to do!’ He darted a quick, unhappy glance at the girl, but she was still watching Jervis. ‘Please! Let me prepare the ship, eh?’

Jervis jerked his head towards the hatch. ‘I’ll come with you then.’

He waited until the captain had started up the ladder, and then turned to the girl. For a long moment they looked at each other, but he could see that she had already excluded him from her own thoughts.

The doctor had removed the bandages from the soldier’s eyes, and was staring with bird-like intensity at the man’s face.

Carla Zecchi moved automatically to the soldier’s side and took his hand firmly between her own, as the man said in a small voice, ‘I still can’t see, Doctor. There’s nothin’ at all!’

She pressed his hand still harder, as if to force the rising panic from him, and by so doing, share with him her own private loss and misery.

Jervis blundered after the captain and found him giving orders to two of his men.

‘Here! Wait a minute! What the hell are you doing?’

The captain halted and stood patiently waiting for Jervis to catch up. ‘The mooring ropes,
signore
. We must slacken off the lines in readiness.’ His dark eyes were watchful.