Chapter 24

24

POOLE – MAY 1941

Peggy held the tiller of the little outboard engine firmly and willed it to act something more like the motor in the launch than the little dinghy outboard it was. Already, the launch was way out of sight, but she was certain of two things: Charlie was at the helm and he was headed for the River Frome.

She passed the Hamworthy quay, and was soon near to the RAF base, but she was careful to stay out far enough from shore that her face wouldn't be seen. The night was dark now, the moon having been covered over with clouds that had been rolling in from the west, and the harbour looked as black as an oil slick. The town was blacked out too and Peggy could see virtually nothing, but knew instinctively where she was, how to avoid the many sandbars, and which way lay the mouth of the river.

Soon the sound of the engine grew louder because she'd reached the more enclosed mouth of the river. Peggy immediately slowed down to well under the regulation four knots speed limit, and watched the left and right banks in turn. She knew that Charlie was bound to hear the engine from her boat, but he wouldn't know it was her. She was prepared to cut the engine at any moment.

Peggy scoured the bank as she crept along, trying to look and sound as if she wasn't in any particular hurry. There were a couple of houseboats, all shut up and dark – no way of knowing if there were people living aboard or not – and some of the usual small sailing boats, and one or two fishing dinghies. She saw the flash of movement on the right bank from the corner of her eye and cut the engine immediately. It was still another fifty yards ahead, but there was the BOAC launch, moored up beside another boat, which had a tarpaulin cover pulled over it like a tent.

Peggy stealthily picked up the oars, one at a time, and slotted them silently into the rowlocks, as the dinghy drifted towards the bank. She held one oar out to fend off from the riverbank but let the dinghy drift into the reeds from where she could see – and hear – what occurred on the boat.

Charlie's voice reached her first, and she could tell he was angry, but she wasn't quite close enough to hear the words.

Peggy rowed carefully out from the reeds and along the river a few more yards and slipped across to the right bank. Then the voices became clearer.

‘I will speak English, Klaus, because I am English now. I don't want any part of what you're doing, and I won't allow you to ruin my life! I have a job, and friends, and a real chance to start again and I'm not going to let you stop me,' spat Charlie through gritted teeth. ‘Take my boat, if you want it, but give me the damn papers and get out of here, then leave me alone!'

Klaus responded with something in Dutch, which Peggy couldn't understand, but whatever it was, Charlie lashed out with his fists in response, hitting Klaus so hard that he cried out in pain.

‘Klaus, you are on the wrong side! I should never have suggested to you what I did back in Rotterdam. It was wrong of me, and foolish – but it was all I could think of at the time as a way to protect my family. Germany is not the right side – whether they win or lose, you must not give in to that weakness.'

‘It's far too late for that, Hans. I've been German all my life, and now that Germany is going to rule Europe, I know which side is the right side. And you forget – you're German too!' he spat, waving papers in his face. Charlie snatched for the papers and nearly fell into the water, as Klaus tucked them away again.

‘But why me, Klaus?' Charlie said, sounding exhausted and desperate. ‘I hardly knew you! What can I do for you now? You learnt what you wanted about those visiting politicians without even asking me! And God knows how many people lost their lives in the havoc that air raid brought on so many innocents!'

‘Hans, you are so stupid. How can you think these pathetic English will ever win? You have the chance to join the side of your father, and help. You are already close to that woman who seems to know a lot about the passengers on the flying boats. And if you don't help me, I will turn you in as a spy – I have the German ID papers here to prove it, then this lovely little provincial life you yearn for will be over for good,' yelled Klaus.

Hans lashed out again and the two men fell to the bottom of the boat, where they fought so fiercely, Peggy was sure at least one of them would take a fatal blow soon.

As the two tussled and grunted in the bottom of the boat, Peggy moved her dinghy closer and tied it up to the side of the launch, thinking fast. She knew now that though Charlie was not who she'd thought he was, he was certainly not the trouble Fletcher had imagined. It was this Klaus who really needed to be caught.

Peggy was frustrated at not being able to face Klaus directly, but she had to act fast. She tied the dinghy as securely as she could to the BOAC launch then climbed aboard, quiet as a cat. Charlie – the man she knew as Charlie, she thought wryly – had left the key in the padlock on the cabin latch, at least. She crept around the edges, staying low so as not to be seen, checking for ropes. It was only tied, quite loosely, to the Dutch boat by one rope. She re-tied it in a way that she could lift it from the cleat in a hurry and crouched at the wheel to listen again.

‘No! Give them back! What are you doing?' yelled Klaus and Peggy heard the ripping of papers.

‘These are my papers and I'm doing what I should have done in Rotterdam – destroying them! I want nothing to do with Germany, Klaus!'

There was a thud and a sound that Peggy was convinced must be vulgar swearing in Dutch. Knowing that one of them had taken a hit that had slowed them both down, Peggy took her chance and jumped up onto the Dutch boat, aiming her pistol at the mangle of men in the bottom of the boat.

‘Hold still, both of you; this is loaded and I'm not afraid to use it.'

Both Klaus and Charlie turned towards her, stunned, holding their hands raised. And now, for the first time on this strange night, she was properly afraid. She breathed deeply and took stock. She held a gun, and neither of them did. She had the key to the BOAC launch, and they were both below her. Charlie looked to be bleeding from the side of his head. She held the power here and she was going to keep it.

‘Now, you're both going to calm down, and tell me what the hell is going on here, because you, Charlie, have got everyone at BOAC convinced that you're English, and now, after believing you when you said you were Dutch, I hear you are actually German! What is your real name?' Peggy demanded.

‘Peggy, my Nederlander name was Hans. Hans Meyers – but I left him behind in Rotterdam, and I am not German. My father was German, but I was raised as a Nederlander by my mother. Klaus here is half Dutch too, just like me, but he's decided to become German, for some reason of utter madness, and help the enemy.' Charlie sighed deeply and sat down before continuing. ‘He took my German identity papers, which I should have destroyed months ago, and he was going to hold them against me. As I told you, he is demanding that I share information about passengers on the flying boats, or he will turn me in.'

‘And I suppose I hold you, Klaus, responsible for the air raid that was designed to kill our leaders recently?' Peggy asked, daring to find out the truth.

Peggy watched as Charlie looked naturally surprised at all she knew, but Klaus simply scoffed. She turned the pistol fully onto Klaus and held it with both hands.

‘So why am I the only enemy now?' he demanded. ‘Hans here is more of a liar than me. I'm just doing my part for the Third Reich who will be here in England in no time at all and then women like you had better?—'

Charlie gave him no opportunity to finish his disgusting speech and knocked him to the floor.

For Peggy, time stood still as they fought. Charlie had thumped Klaus to the floor and was reeling back from the effort when, in a blink, Klaus was up on his feet and holding Charlie by the throat. Peggy froze as she saw the panic in Charlie's face, while Klaus held both hands around his neck, squeezing tighter and tighter, and then she heard the gunshot, and it was as if the world had tipped on its axis. She saw the smoke spill from the end of her pistol and heard nothing more as the blast rang in her ear. She held her eyes shut tight and then, as her hearing returned, she heard something heavy fall into the water, and then again. Both men must now be in the river, and she had shot at least one of them. The floor of the Dutch boat was slick with blood.

‘Charlie! Charlie, where are you?' she cried, peering over the edge of the boat into the water and reeds below, where small splashing sounds still mingled with grunts.

‘Charlie? Is that you?' She moved to the other end of the boat, trying to see the men in the water, and as she moved, she kicked something hard and solid on the floor. She bent down to feel for it. The pistol. She must have dropped it after she pulled the trigger. She knew it had held six bullets to begin with, and so she held it carefully, sticky with blood as it was, in her shaking hand, and called for Charlie again.

‘Charlie? Where are you?' she called desperately and leant over the side of the boat. A hand reached up and she caught it, pulling with all her strength, hoping against hope this was Charlie's arm and she could pull him out of the water. But the arm was stronger than her, or the pull was heavier than she'd expected, and she slipped and fell.

As Peggy fell into the water, being pulled by her left arm, the gun in her right hand went off, and then she was under the water, tumbling into the inky black night of the river.