Page 51 of Summer of Fire
That was the future that had been envisaged for her by her parents. Her mother expected her daughters to marry and have children, just as she had done. Not that one couldn’t do that in wartime—her older siblings were born in London during the Great War. But there was no doubt it made it difficult to meet a suitable husband when most of the eligible young men had been enlisted.
A red double-decker London bus drew up at her stop and she found a seat on the upper deck and her mind ticked over the events of her time in France. The incident with the soldier was horrific and made her shudder. But the mission itself had been exciting. At the time she operated on pure instinct, but now she thought about it, she realised she had enjoyed the work immensely.
The secret nature of the mission, the rush of the unexpected, and the knowledge that she was doing something that truly mattered, was addictive. If she got the chance to do more for SOE, she would jump at it.
What could be more important than doing everything she could to save Britain and the people she loved? Looking back in her old age and knowing she hadn’t done all she could, would be intolerable.
If the RAF were able to bomb the airfields from the roll offilm, it would reduce the Luftwaffe’s capabilities and her efforts could make a measurable difference to the outcome of the war.
Yes, she must do whatever she could.
Val welcomed her enthusiastically and introduced her to her boss, who shook her hand and beckoned for her to take a seat. ‘I have heard a lot about you, Miss Beaumont. Congratulations on your first mission in Northern France. You’ve impressed us all tremendously, and when Val told me she’d released you to return to the War Office, I told her I thought it was a dreadful waste of talent. Nothing against the War Office, you understand, but there are not many young women who have both the skills and the courage to do what you did for your country with just a few days of rudimentary training.’
Lizzie listened to him, transfixed. ‘Thank you, sir. Honestly, I would do it all again, despite the unpleasantness of some of it.’
‘And that is exactly what I mean,’ he said, admiration in his eyes as he turned to Val. ‘Jack recruited a live wire in this one. Let us not waste our opportunity to strengthen the French circuit. Lord knows, we need all the help we can get.’
Val glanced at Lizzie. ‘You’ve barely had a day to recover and here we are, calling on you again. But the truth is, we do need you, and this time we will give you more comprehensive training. That is, if you agree to work with us full time.’
Lizzie stared at the two of them, her mind bubbling.
‘Do you mean I wouldn’t work at the War Office at all anymore, or would that be my cover job?’
The boss rose, excusing himself, saying it was a pleasure to meet her, and he looked forward to seeing her again. ‘I have a meeting with the Prime Minister and must leave now, but I’ll leave you in Val’s capable hands. Mr Churchill will beoverjoyed to hear about the calibre of agents joining our ranks. Well done.’
Lizzie could barely take in the magnitude of what he said.A meeting with Mr Churchill.Her father had met Churchill, but it seemed like a fairy tale when he told them about it. This was real… almost too real. Now she was working with people who discussed their operations with the top echelon of government as a matter of course.
Val met Lizzie’s eyes. ‘In answer to your question, you wouldn’t work at the War Office anymore. You’d be based here as my assistant. For now, at least. I certainly need one. That way, you’ll learn the ropes, use your translation expertise, and be better prepared for whenever we need you to go back into France. That is, if you accept our offer.’
Lizzie crossed and uncrossed her legs and fidgeted with her hands. ‘Yes, yes, please. I would love to work with you.’
‘Good. That’s settled then,’ said Val, beaming. ‘I suggest you take the afternoon to clear your desk at the War Office and tie up any loose ends. Say nothing to anyone about your work with us. I will tell Drake we’ve stolen you, and the dear man will have to take it on the chin. If he didn’t want to lose you, he should have known better than to introduce you to Jack. He’s our master recruiter—it was him who brought in Hannah.’
Lizzie nodded, wondering how Jack met Hannah. Everything about the missing agent had an aura of mystery, and when she had asked Jack about her, he had said some things but not really said anything at all. That was an integral skill of the experienced spy, she realised.
Val continued, ‘Drake will handle it with the other staff, and they’ll be none the wiser, so just make a quiet exit.’
‘What will I tell my family?’ Lizzie asked. She didn’t have to worry about friends because she hadn’t made any proper friends in London. All her close friends were in Jersey or hadbeen evacuated to the countryside. Since living in London, she’d done little but travel from home to work and back again, which left no time for developing new friendships.
Unless she counted Jack. Could Jack be called a friend? The thoughts raced through her tired brain. Jack was her superior officer, and she told herself firmly that she must stop thinking of him as anything else.
There could be nothing personal, not even friendship. He had made it clear enough that what had happened between them was a mistake and their relationship must be purely professional.
Even so, her heart leapt at the thought of working so closely with him, when he returned from France. She tried not to think about the very real possibility that he might not return.
‘Tell your family you’ve been transferred to Caxton Street. Remember rule number one when fabricating cover stories. It’s best to stick to the truth as closely as possible. Your father will be onto us in no time, of course, so I’ll have a quiet word with him. The rest of your family mustn’t know what you’re doing.
It won’t be long before we move SOE to our new HQ, which must also be kept secret, but for now, you’ll be working here at St. Ermin’s. We operate under the cover of the Statistical Research Department. What could be more unremarkable?’
Val gave her an encouraging smile and rose from her seat. ‘Thrilled to have you on board. See you tomorrow at eight sharp. By the way, you may be interested to hear we received a message from Jack via an old wireless set we thought was out of action. Our legendary operative, Raven, is back in play. I’ll fill you in properly in the morning.’
The blood rushed to Lizzie’s head. Jack was alive. She wanted to hear all the details, but Val had already picked upthe telephone and was absorbed in dialling. Lizzie was dismissed and there was nothing more she could do about it without wearing her feelings for Jack on her sleeve.
Now she would work formally with the Special Operations Executive. It was time to push those confusing feelings for him aside and concentrate on what really mattered: doing all she could to help Britain and the Resistance sabotage Nazi operations in France.
Jack was her boss, and she wouldn’t let her feelings for him distract her from the bigger picture.
If they beat Hitler, the day would come when Archie and Oliver would come home. They would return to Seagrove together and hug their grandparents and see all their friends. She would dip in the sea at Portelet Bay as the sun slid gently out of sight on the orange horizon and day morphed into dusk. The Channel Islands and Europe would be set free, and the tyranny would be over.
