Her Secret War Page 12

  ‘Not at all, sir. What can I do for you?’ she asked. All the while, her mind raced with questions. Who was he and what was going on? Why would someone in the Royal Navy wish to speak to her?

  ‘Miss Gillespie, how can I put this delicately? You have come to our attention.’ Again, the dazzling smile. Puzzled, Sarah raised a brow but remained silent. ‘Unfortunately, a red flag has been raised and it’s my job to ascertain … How best to say it without giving offence … well, to ascertain if you are a bona fide friend to this country.’ He wrinkled his nose as if saying it caused him physical hurt.

  ‘I’m sorry. I do not understand what you mean, Captain.’ Sarah straightened in her seat, her heart thumping. Unfortunately, she did have a sneaking suspicion what he meant.

  ‘Oh dear, I’m not making myself clear, am I?’ He sighed, and with exaggerated slowness, opened a folder which lay on the desk. Sarah noticed ‘TOP SECRET’ had been stamped on the front cover. Northcott tapped the open page and treated her to a quizzical glance. ‘Your file was passed on to me, and makes for interesting reading.’

  ‘Captain, I don’t know what’s going on, but I can assure you I was thoroughly checked before I started here. I can understand how my nationality might be an issue, but if that was a problem when I applied for this job, I’m sure it has been resolved. I doubt I would have been employed otherwise. Miss Whitaker could confirm that for you.’ Northcott’s brows shot up. Clearly, there was a problem. Fear sliced through her. Was she about to lose her job? She fought to stay calm. ‘What exactly is the issue, sir?’

  Captain Northcott sat back with a surprised expression. ‘Please don’t be alarmed. You have done nothing wrong; quite the opposite. My dear young lady, there is a difficulty, for want of a better word, but it is one we very much hope you can help us with. Think of it as a bargain in which we both get what we want. However, first, I’d like to ask you a question, if I may?’ Sarah nodded. ‘Why did you come to England?’

  For a moment it was on the tip of her tongue to make a smart comment. The question was disingenuous if he was familiar with her file, but Northcott was leaning towards her, clearly interested in what her answer might be. She stared at her file on the desk. ‘I think you must know. I’m sure it is all in that file.’

  ‘Humour me, Miss Gillespie,’ Northcott replied with a coaxing smile. ‘I’d like to hear it from you.’

  Sarah relaxed slightly and recounted the details of the night of the bombing. ‘My family and home were wiped out that night and I could not see any way to make a meaningful difference to the outcome of this war by staying in Dublin. My relatives’ invitation to come live and work here was just the opportunity I sought. Obviously, I cannot fight, but I can help the war effort by doing a good job here.’

  ‘Very laudable, my dear Miss Gillespie. So, would it be fair to say revenge was your primary motivation for coming to England?’ he asked.

  ‘Partly, but also dissatisfaction with the stance my country has taken. And, if I am honest, I also wished to meet my mother’s family.’

  ‘That is understandable in the circumstances. It must have been a very distressing time for you. Life changing, in fact.’

  ‘Not just me; countless others were left bereaved and homeless. And worst of all, there was no logic to it.’

  ‘Indeed; but then the whole Nazi regime is rotten to the core. There’s no accounting for anything they do.’ Northcott grunted then rubbed his chin, his gaze fixed on the window. Sarah wished she knew what was going through his head. Eventually, his gaze focused back on her. ‘It is your courage in the face of that tragedy that has sparked our interest, Miss Gillespie. Courage and resourcefulness.’

  Sarah chuckled and Northcott’s eyebrows shot up once more. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but I’m no heroine in a Gothic romance. A survivor, perhaps, but no more.’

  ‘On the contrary, I believe you have the … personality and aptitude we could harness for great good.’

  Baffled, Sarah gazed at him, hoping he was going to clarify what he meant. ‘I’m intrigued, sir, but I’m not sure—’

  ‘Indeed, I’m being far too vague. My wife complains of it all the time.’ Northcott gave a little laugh. ‘Well, to be frank, Miss Gillespie, the British government needs you.’

  Sarah stared back at him, perplexed. Northcott continued: ‘You see, there is a Nazi spy – a fifth columnist – here at Supermarine. We’d like you to help us root him out. By so doing, you would get a measure of revenge and we would catch our impostor.’

  Sarah straightened up in surprise. ‘A spy? Here?’

  The captain nodded. ‘I know; quite shocking. It is difficult to believe he managed to get a job here.’ Northcott lowered his voice. ‘However, during the Blitz last winter things were chaotic. He got through the recruitment process rather quickly as they were short-staffed. Checks may not have been completed.’

  ‘That is surprising. They were very thorough with me,’ she replied.

  ‘Yes, but things have been calmer since the move here to Hursley.’ Northcott tilted his head. ‘What do you say? Are you game?’

  ‘I don’t know what to say, sir. I have no experience in such matters. There must be others more suitable for this job?’

  ‘No, no. That’s just it. Because you are Irish, our spy will think you are ripe for turning. He will assume you have republican leanings and that you are pro-German. He will home in on that. It wouldn’t take much encouragement from you …‍’

  ‘Yes, I can see how that might be; and it is important that this person is exposed. I’m not sure I’m the right person, though.’

  ‘But think, Miss Gillespie – what better way to avenge your family’s misfortunes at the hands of Nazi Germany than to help take down one of their spies?’

  Sarah gave him a wan smile. ‘It would be extremely satisfying, I have to admit. Let me think about it, please.’

  The captain grimaced. ‘Ah, unfortunately, there is very little time. This person is eager to gain access to plans, and so far, he has been unsuccessful in finding a co-conspirator. Our fear is he will move on, that we will lose track of him and that he will attempt his treachery elsewhere without our knowledge. These chaps are very clever, you know, and change identity frequently. It is sheer luck we know about him at all.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I do regret having to put pressure on you, but I would need your answer within twenty-four hours, Miss Gillespie.’

  ‘So little time! This is all a bit of a shock, sir. I would like to get my uncle’s advice.’

  The captain went rigid. ‘No! You cannot discuss this outside this room. I cannot stress that enough. Secrecy is of the utmost importance.’ Northcott held her gaze for several seconds, during which time Sarah realised that for all his outward charm there was steely strength in the man too.

  ‘And if I don’t agree to help you?’

  Northcott sat back in his chair. ‘I would be very disappointed. And,’ he looked down at her file, ‘we would have to explore your past more vigorously. I hate to mention it, but there is the small matter of your father being a notorious republican.’

  And there it was: Da’s ghost. Sarah almost groaned aloud. ‘My father is dead, and I never shared his misguided ideology, Captain. Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you what my feelings are in relation to the republican movement,’ Sarah replied, growing more agitated. How could she reassure him?

  ‘You cannot have lived in the same house with the man for …‍’ he glanced down at the file, ‘‍… nineteen years, and not have been influenced by his views.’

  ‘Yes, I had to listen to his nonsense for years, I cannot deny that. He was not a man to gainsay. His nature was violent. But you cannot in all seriousness tar me with the same brush as my father. His involvement in the IRA was in the early 1920s, around the time I was born.’

  ‘Be that as it may, if we were to find anything untoward in your family history, we would have little choice but to ask you and the Lambes to leave the co
untry. We are at war, Miss Gillespie, and must be sure of our friends. You must see the logic in this.’

  ‘I do. I also see that, in effect, I have no choice but to help you,’ she ground out.

  ‘Miss Gillespie, it is not as bleak as that. Besides, I would have thought you would jump at the chance to strike back,’ he said with a quirk of his lips.

  With a sigh, Sarah returned his gaze. ‘I had hoped that by doing war work, I had already achieved that. I hadn’t envisaged such a role as you are hinting at, I have to admit.’

  ‘Few do, but war has a way of bringing out the best in us all. I’m sure when you think this over you will be more than happy to help us.’

  ‘Can you tell me more about what it is I would have to do?’ Sarah asked, resigned to her fate.

  ‘Help him steal the secrets he desires.’

  ‘What? You cannot be serious.’

  ‘I am deadly serious, my dear young lady. How else are we to unmask him?’

  ‘Who is this spy?’ she asked.

  ‘Rob McArthur.’

  Sarah blinked rapidly, grappling with the insanity of the idea. ‘No! I don’t believe it.’

  ‘I can assure you our information is correct.’ He treated her to a penetrating stare which set her nerves on edge. ‘I understand you are acquainted with him.’

  For a split second she was about to deny it, but based on Northcott’s knowledge of her so far, it would be futile. ‘Yes. Rob is a colleague. He helped me during an air raid in Winchester by showing me the way to an air-raid shelter.’

  ‘And?’

  Sarah sighed; her attempt to downplay their acquaintance clearly doomed. ‘We met one evening for a drink, but I have little desire to further the acquaintance. He seems a nice enough fellow, though he is rather fond of talking politics. It was one of the things that put me off him. He reminded me of my father.’

  ‘That, my dear lady, is hardly a coincidence. So, you are acquainted with him.’

  Sarah sighed. ‘Yes. He asked me out again, but I didn’t wish to take things any further. Of course, you know all of this already.’

  ‘Yes, rather.’ He tapped the file and smiled.

  ‘Is everyone in Supermarine under surveillance?’ she asked.

  ‘You can hardly expect me to answer that, Miss Gillespie.’ The captain chuckled. ‘Suffice to say, I am well informed.’

  Then why bother to ask these questions? she thought with a great deal of annoyance. Sarah’s stomach plummeted as it occurred to her that there was only one way Northcott’s plan would work. ‘Let me guess. You want me to befriend him and pretend to like him so he will reveal his scheme?’

  ‘How very astute, Miss Gillespie. You’re a quick thinker: I like that. However, your task will be a little more complicated than that.’

  ‘I’ve a feeling I will regret asking this, Captain, but what do you wish me to do?’

  ‘You must rekindle your romantic relationship with Mr McArthur; it cannot be just a friendship.’

  She felt her stomach turn. ‘Really? I’m not sure I could be convincing, sir. I left him in no doubt that I wasn’t interested. Besides, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the notion of using my femininity in such a way.’

  ‘Miss Gillespie, this man and his vile objective must be exposed as quickly as possible. He has already shown interest in you. Gain his confidence. Our information, which is utterly reliable, is that he has been placed at Supermarine to steal Spitfire plans for his masters in Berlin.’

  ‘Through someone like me,’ Sarah said. Northcott nodded. ‘But if your source is reliable, why not just arrest him now?’ she asked, puzzled.

  ‘We need evidence, or the case would be thrown out in a court of law; hearsay is not enough to hang a man. He has no access to Spitfire plans working in Wages. My reports tell me he has been ingratiating himself with the girls in the Tracing Room in particular. He needs someone to provide the drawings. And who better than an Irish girl, fresh off the boat?’

  Sarah recalled Gladys’s comments about Rob and nodded slowly. ‘Do you believe he was targeting me? I met him almost by accident at the cinema.’

  ‘Are you sure it was chance? It is well known that the girls here frequent the cinema in Winchester most Friday nights.’

  Sarah’s heart sank. ‘It was no coincidence then.’

  Northcott sniffed. ‘Highly unlikely. He hopes you are sympathetic to his cause. If we were to catch him receiving plans …‍’

  Sarah’s heart dropped. ‘From someone like me,’ she continued.

  Northcott smiled. ‘Exactly, Miss Gillespie, from you. That will give us all the proof we need; and it will prove your loyalty to our satisfaction such that there will be no need for any … unpleasantness.’

  From a landing window, Sarah watched Captain Northcott limp across the front courtyard to a waiting car and wondered how he had received his injury. She had never met anyone like him. He was a strange mixture of jolly upper class one minute and tough resolve the next. On the surface he had seemed sympathetic to her situation, almost apologetic, but she had sensed how much he had enjoyed revealing his hold over her. Which was the true Northcott? she wondered. And what drove a man like that? Was it ambition, or a genuine desire to out a spy? If he succeeded, it would boost his career; even though Sarah Gillespie, prize idiot caught in the middle, would be the one taking all the risks.

  A man in naval uniform was waiting for Northcott, leaning against the driver’s door, smoking. He stamped out the cigarette and stood to attention as Northcott approached, then they both climbed in. There were no markings on the car. So, who did he work for? Was he Naval Intelligence or some other secret organisation? As the black car drove away, Sarah realised her heart was pounding.

  She glanced at her watch. It was only four o’clock; still another hour and a half before she could leave. How she was going to get any work done with this to think about, she wasn’t sure. Pondering it all, she made her way back to the Tracing Office. She was relieved she didn’t bump into the Dragon, who would have undoubtedly taken the opportunity to interrogate her about her meeting. Both Gladys and Ruth threw her questioning glances as she entered the room, but Sarah went straight to her drawing board and kept her head down for the rest of the afternoon.

  Working helped a little. There was no room for error; concentration was key, or you’d have to start from scratch with a new sheet of tracing cloth and a dressing-down from Miss Whitaker about careless work and the shortage of supplies. If her hands shook slightly as she relived the conversation with Northcott, no one knew but Sarah. It took a great deal of resolve to stay calm. But one thing was certain; she would give Northcott’s proposal – or to be more accurate, his command – the time and consideration it deserved when she was alone.

  16

  14th October 1941, Hursley

  Dinnertime was pure agony for Sarah that evening. She longed to be alone to sort out her conflicting thoughts and the arguments which had been circulating in her head since meeting Northcott. The conversation flowed around her as she picked at her food, but she found it difficult to concentrate and was only half listening.

  But then Uncle Tom exclaimed, and everyone looked up. ‘Well now, this is very interesting. An American warship has been attacked by a U-boat in the Atlantic.’

  ‘When was that, Dad?’ Martin asked.

  ‘Last week. President Roosevelt has warned the Germans and Italians that the US will open fire if they enter waters America deems necessary for maintaining defence,’ Tom read out. ‘The US Navy will shoot on sight if any ship or convoy is threatened.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it, Dad? Surely the Americans must come in now and help us? They must see Jerry will not abide by any declaration of neutrality?’ Martin said.

  Uncle Tom placed the newspaper down on the table and sighed. ‘It’s not as simple as that, Martin. Roosevelt is determined to win another term; he won’t upset his voters by reneging on his promise to keep the US out of the conflict in Europe. T
here is no appetite for war there. They still remember the last one and the loss of life.’ Her uncle shook his head sadly.

  ‘But they can’t stand by and watch Hitler run amok here. They must see that he and his regime are pure evil.’ Martin frowned at his father.

  ‘I know, but they are removed from it across the water. Right now, it’s politics before people. The world has gone mad, if you ask me,’ Tom said, his expression glum.

  ‘I believe it’s only putting off the inevitable. When American lives are lost, the tide will turn in our favour. It has to. What do you think, Sarah?’ Martin asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sarah replied. ‘I can see why they want to stay out of it, but with things so bad for us right now, it would be a relief if they did join the fight.’

  ‘If they keep attacking the convoys, the Yanks will do the right thing, I’m sure of it, Martin.’ Tom gave Sarah a sly look. ‘You’re awful quiet, this evening, missy. Away with the fairies, in fact.’ Uncle Tom laughed. ‘Some lad caught your eye?’

  ‘Don’t mither her, Tom,’ Aunt Alice said, casting her a concerned glance. ‘Are you not hungry, Sarah? Are you unwell? I could make you some hot milk, if you like?’

  ‘Heavens, no thank you, Aunt. I’m sorry; it’s just that I’m tired this evening.’ Sarah glanced out the window. ‘Once we clear up after dinner, I’ll go for a cycle. That should clear my head.’

  ‘I’ll come with you if you like?’ Martin piped up, to her dismay.

  ‘Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think I’d be good company. I need to work off my mood and silence would be best.’ She tapped the side of her head. ‘Some demons to sort out.’

  Martin shot her a puzzled glance but nodded. ‘Ok.’