Whistling in the Dark (11 page)

At last tea was announced. But just as the children were all seated and beginning to tuck in, the doors of the room were flung open and in marched an army sergeant and two corporals, wearing the distinctive red on their caps to show they were the Military Police. Mrs Buckley hurried forward anxiously.

“Sorry to interrupt,” said the sergeant, saluting, “but we’ve had orders to search this building.”

“Now? But is that really necessary? We’re in the middle of a children’s party, as you can plainly see.”

“It is essential, I’m afraid. We’ve had a tip-off that the army deserter we’re looking for may be hiding here.” The sergeant glanced around the room, as if the deserter might be hiding under the piano. “Please carry on. My men will start with the kitchens and storerooms, and then work their way up, floor by floor.”

“Only the ground, first and second floors are in use,” Mrs Buckley told him. “The children’s dormitories are up there. The top floor and attics are locked up.” She beckoned to Basia and Gosia, the two Polish women who were helping with the tea. They stepped forward nervously. “These two ladies from my team live here on the premises. They will show you around.”

The sergeant motioned for the two women to lead the way, and he and his men followed them out of the room, watched by wide-eyed, open-mouthed children. Joan was just as curious but managed not to show it.

Tea was resumed, although they could hear heavy military boots tramping about overhead. Then, as the search party reached the locked door leading to the top floor, there was a noisy commotion, with Basia and Gosia wailing and protesting as the soldiers began to break it down.

The tea party had now ground to a halt. Mrs Rudd struck up a cheerful tune on the piano, but no one felt like joining in with another game. Some of the younger children looked anxious, and one of them began to cry.

“Sounds as though they’re doing a pretty thorough search up there,” said Ross.

Joan was silent. She was remembering something one of the older girls had said, that day when they were collecting salvage, about the top floor being haunted and footsteps echoing overhead at night. Perhaps the rumour had spread, so that suspicion had grown locally and the Military Police had been tipped off. Was this where Ania’s uncle had been hiding?

Joan got away from the party as soon as she could and ran all the way home. She needed to tell Mum about this right away.

When Joan got home, Ronnie Harper Jones was in the back room with Mum. Brian was up in his room. He’d presumably decamped to there as soon as he had heard Ronnie’s voice in the hall.

“I won’t stay long,” Ronnie said, taking off his greatcoat. He was in his self-important senior-officer mode. “I just dropped in to tell you the news. The Military Police have at last picked up a strong lead on that deserter fellow who’s been hanging around here. They’ve just finished searching the upper floors of the Royal Hotel, where they discovered signs of recent occupation – a camp bed, some clothing, that kind of thing. They’re pretty sure that the two Polish helpers who live at the hotel are responsible for trying to hide the man.”

“I know about the search,” said Joan. “I was there. They came when we were trying to have a tea party for the children.”

Ronnie ignored this, although Mum looked concerned at the thought that Joan had been caught up in something scary.

“They’ll soon catch him now,” Ronnie said. “It’s only a matter of time. He won’t last long sleeping rough in this weather before he’s spotted. I don’t want to alarm you – just wanted to warn you to be extra careful. Keep your doors and windows locked and, of course, report anything suspicious immediately. Don’t worry, we’ll have him soon.”

“Thank you for coming, Ronnie,” was all Mum had to say to that. She paused for a moment, considering her next words. “Especially as we know how busy you must be. We won’t keep you now. I’m sure we’ll be all right.”

CHAPTER 18

A
t school on Monday morning, Joan waited for a quiet moment in the playground to break the news to Ania that her Uncle Lukasz might have reappeared in her life. She braced herself for the reaction. Ania, usually so restrained and buttoned-down, clutched Joan’s arms tightly, wide-eyed and hardly able to speak.

“My Uncle Lukasz? Here? Here in this place?” she said at last. “Shall I see him?”

“It’s a bit complicated, I’m afraid, Ania. You see, he’s wanted by the Military Police – if he
is
your uncle, that is. They think this man has been hiding at the Royal Hotel, but there was a search there and now nobody knows where he is. So, please don’t say anything about this at school, or to Miss Mellor, or anyone − not just yet. My mum is trying to help you, to find out if he’s genuine. If he only ran away to see you, then he might be able to escape military prison. And you’re the one person who can tell us if he really is your uncle.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. I am silent. I tell no one,” said Ania breathlessly. “But I hope. I so hope.”

She took Joan’s hands in hers and held them tightly – something she had never done before. “Thank you, thank you! You are true friend. You and your mother and all your family. I trust. I am so…” She could not find the words.

“It’ll be OK, Ania,” was all Joan could manage to say. And she hoped with all her heart that she was right.

The next couple of days passed without a sign of the man who claimed to be Lukasz Topolski. The Military Police were well in evidence locally, keeping a strict eye on the train and bus stations, the public park and the shelters on the promenade, and asking people to report anything that looked suspicious.

Mum made no attempt to contact them or give them any information. Luckily, no police had actually turned up on the doorstep.

Mum and Joan were sitting alone together late one afternoon, with the curtains already drawn to keep out the sound of the heavy rain falling outside, when they heard a faint whistle and a tap-tapping at the windowpane. Joan froze. It was like a rerun of the spooky moment some months ago when she had first seen that face – Lukasz’s face – looking in at her.

Mum got up and went to the back door, put on the safety chain and opened it a crack. Joan hovered behind, peering over her shoulder. There he was. He was unmistakably the same man that she had encountered on her way home from the school dance. He looked terrible: unkempt, exhausted and soaked to the skin. But he removed his cap politely, ignoring the rivulets of rain that were running down his cheeks.

“Madam, I am sorry to frighten you like this. I think you know why I cannot come to your door in the proper way. Your daughter has told you already. I am Lukasz Topolski – Ania’s uncle. And I must speak to you.”

“It’s not safe for you to come here,” Mum said. Her voice was remarkably steady, but she was signalling by a gesture of her hand for Joan to keep out of sight. “I haven’t yet told the military authorities about you contacting my daughter. But I warn you that I’ll do so immediately, if that becomes necessary.”

“Please – please. I beg you not to do that. They will take me soon, anyway. You see, I have come to this country as refugee with no papers. They put me in the British Army Pioneer Corps. As labourer. We do rough work. We dig graves, we mend roads. In Poland, I am skilled man. I have my own business. But I suffer this because I have heard my dear niece Ania is here, alive, somewhere in this area, and I must try to find her. Then we hear our unit will soon be drafted, faraway from this place. So I run away.”

“So you
are
a deserter, then?”

“Yes. I know the Military Police are looking for me and it is only a matter of time before they take me. I have nowhere to hide. But my friends – the two ladies who work at the Royal Hotel – they are kind, brave. They know what it is like to be refugee here, how careful you must be not to get in trouble. They help me. They hide me there, on top floor, and give me food. But someone find out. The police come and now I have nowhere to go.”

“But surely it would have been better if you had gone to the proper authorities and asked them to help you to trace Ania?” said Mum.

“No, no. I do not trust. I fear they put me in military prison. That will happen now, anyway – soon, perhaps. But I must see Ania just one time before they take me. Show her that I am alive. Tell her that one day I will come for her, and we will be together. And maybe, when the war is ended, we try to find her father again.”

Tears were coursing down his face now, mixing with the rain. “Please. You are kind. Your daughter is friend to Ania. You invite her to your home. You are only people here I trust. Please help me to meet with her just one time. Then you will know that all I tell you is truth.”

Mum hesitated. Then she said, “All right. I’ll see what I can do. Come back here tomorrow – to the back door − around five o’clock.”

Of course, it was no use trying to keep all this from Brian and Audrey, although they managed to avoid letting Judy in on it. The following afternoon, Mum arranged for her to spend the night with their friends, the Hemmings.

“I’ll bet you this chap’s genuine,” said Brian. “Why would he get himself into all this trouble if he wasn’t?”

“I hope we’ll be able to get this whole thing over before the air-raid siren starts,” Audrey commented. “It’ll mess up everything if there’s an early raid.”

Joan knew they were taking a big risk. She felt nervous walking home from school with Ania.

By four-thirty they were all having tea in the back room. Ania was surprisingly calm. After eating, she sat on an upright chair with folded hands, saying very little. Her face was pale, and every bit of her seemed to be alert and listening. Audrey paced up and down restlessly, then turned the radio on. But Brian objected, saying he was trying to get a bit of homework done. Joan hovered about, determined not to show how anxious she was.

At last it came, a faint whistling at the window. Mum got up and went to unlock the back door. They heard low voices, and then she re-entered the room with Lukasz following close behind her.

Ania stood up. There was a moment’s silence as she and Lukasz looked at each other. Then she ran forward and put her arms around him. There was no mistaking Lukasz’s identity now as they clung silently together, beyond words.

Mum motioned for the family to leave the room and they all stumbled awkwardly to their feet and exited, one by one, into the front room. Ania and Lukasz hardly seemed to notice their departure. They were already talking together in a flood of Polish, crying, laughing and embracing each other by turns.

“What happens now?” Brian asked hoarsely.

“I think we must give them as much time together as we can,” said Mum. “But it can’t be long. And, to be honest, I don’t really know what happens now, Brian. It depends on what kind of plans Lukasz has, if any. But at least we know he’s genuine – he really is Ania’s uncle, and that’s all that matters at the moment.”

“Well, I hope they don’t take too long over all this tearful stuff,” said Brian. “I didn’t get time to eat my tea properly, and I’m starving.”

“I’ll see if—” But Mum was cut off mid-sentence by a loud ring of the front doorbell.

The whole family froze.

“Quick – go and answer it, will you, Audrey?” Mum whispered. “And try to get rid of them, whoever it is. Tell them we’re busy. Don’t let anyone in, for heaven’s sake!”

Audrey scurried to open the door, and to their horror they heard the all-too-familiar voice of Ronnie Harper Jones. After ignoring Audrey’s efforts to keep him at bay, he walked straight past her and into the hall.

“Don’t want to alarm you again,” he was saying, “but the Military Police think they’ve tracked down this deserter chap at last. It looks as though he may be somewhere in this area, so I came straight over to see that you’re all right.”

Mum stepped out of the front room and planted herself firmly in his path, blocking the way to the back of the house.

That’s brave of her,
thought Joan.

“Ronnie! How good of you to come.” Her voice sounded high-pitched and louder than usual. “As a matter of fact, we’re just having something of a family get-together – not often that we’re all home at the same time and there are so many things we need to discuss. I would ask you in, but, as you can see, it isn’t the most convenient time…”

“That’s all right, my dear. I wouldn’t dream of interrupting you. I’m very pressed for time myself.
I just wanted to make sure that—”

Without bothering to remove his greatcoat, he strode past her towards the back of the house. Then he flung open the back sitting-room door.

Ania and Lukasz were standing there, frozen with fear. At the sight of the captain’s uniformed figure, Lukasz seemed to crumple. Instinctively, he and Ania both backed away towards the window. Ronnie’s ample presence dominated the room. He recognized Lukasz at once, and his moustache positively bristled with triumph.

“Lukasz Topolski?” he said. “Don’t bother to deny it. I know who you are. I am a British officer and I am arresting you on a charge of desertion from the army. You will be held in a military prison and face a court martial in due course. The police are in this area and will be here directly, so it is quite useless for you to try to escape. You would be recaptured immediately, believe me.”