Chapter 3
Lizzie worked late in the cipher room and stayed at Jack’s flat that night, as she often did.
She and her mother had an unspoken understanding where neither of them mentioned the obvious—when Lizzie worked night shifts she was with Jack.
Official engagement presented a dubious moral line.
Rose had made it clear she had no wish to discuss that aspect of their relationship with her daughter and Lizzie certainly had no wish to tread ground that risked raising questions about where she’d stayed on all the other nights she had claimed to be working when they were secrets lovers.
As her mother liked to say, some things were better left unsaid.
This was one of those occasions, and Lizzie pondered just how much the sage wisdom suited her double life.
There was so much her mother didn’t know, and even if she wanted to tell her about her posting to Switzerland, the Official Secrets Act forbade it.
This mission shouldn’t be as dangerous as the others, but she still would assume a false name and identity.
They could take no risks of connecting Elizabeth Gale to the Beaumont family in London or to the SOE.
The following morning, Lizzie shrugged her woollen coat on and fastened the buttons. Fortunately, London wasn’t suffering freezing temperatures, but the early morning winter gloom was damp and chilly. ‘I’d better go, or I’ll be late.’
Jack wound Lizzie’s scarf carefully around her neck and pulled her closer for a kiss. ‘Enjoy Swiss Finishing School, darling, and I’ll see you this evening for dinner.’
That’s what they called the intensive training she must undergo to prepare for her mission.
She was fluent in French and experienced as a translator from her stint at the War Office before the SOE recruited her, and her German was sufficient for the new role, but there were always local nuances to grasp when assuming a cover identity in a new city.
Lizzie must be completely believable as a Foreign Office employee with knowledge of wartime commerce.
‘At least I don’t have to pretend to be Swiss. I don’t think I could pull that off.’
Jack scratched his morning stubble and narrowed his eyes. ‘If I were a betting man, I would put money on the fact that you could, but I admit I’m happy you won’t have to try. I’m sleeping much better just knowing you’ll be on neutral territory and won’t be at the mercy of the bastard Boche.’
‘For once, you won’t have to worry. What will you do with all that free time when I’m away?’ Lizzie teased.
‘What free time? Besides, it’s my job to make sure you are safe, and I take it very seriously,’ Jack said, lighting a cigarette and exhaling a swirl of smoke that slid towards the ceiling. ‘But it is a great relief to know you’ll be operating under the umbrella of the British Legation.’
‘Does it give me full diplomatic immunity?’ she asked.
Jack shook his head. ‘Not full. That’s only for the ministers. You’ll still have to watch your step, but that shouldn’t be a problem within the scope of your mission. You’ll be digging quietly behind the scenes, not infiltrating Nazi circles or setting up Resistance networks.’
Jack saw her off at the door. ‘I’ll follow shortly.’
It was now common knowledge they were engaged, but they were still discreet and went into work separately after they spent the night together.
That afternoon, Lizzie suppressed a yawn after hours of studying immersive Swiss footage and listening to mundane conversations in Swiss German.
The instructor paused the recording. ‘In official meetings, they’ll speak High German, but on the streets the locals will speak Bernese German, which is another matter entirely. If you can glean the gist of what they’re saying, it could provide invaluable intelligence from unexpected sources.’
‘All these dialects are confusing,’ Lizzie said with a laboured sigh.
‘Bernese is the one to become familiar with, and like I said, as a British employee you won’t be expected to speak it. In fact, it will be more useful if people think you don’t understand a word. They’re more likely to drop their guard when you’re around.’
Lizzie nodded, the implication of what he was saying sinking in. German and French were sufficient for her official role, but if she wanted to be effective outside the Legation, she must be able to understand the basics of the dialect.
Val appeared, and after a brief chat with the instructor, she dismissed him and took over. ‘How is it going so far?’
‘There’s a lot to learn before I’m fit for purpose on the Swiss dialect front. It’s complex, and the instructor says I should be able at the very least to pick up what’s being said around me by the locals.
Val removed her glasses and twirled them slowly in her fingers. ‘Hmm, whilst that all sounds advantageous, I’m afraid we don’t have that kind of time.’
Lizzie jerked her head up, stirring from her drowsy inertia. ‘I thought we had a few more weeks until I go in at the end of the full moon period.’
‘Yes, well, best-laid plans and all … That’s changed, Seagrove. The post has been vacated earlier than expected, so we need you in position.’
Lizzie’s senses kicked into high alert, all sleepiness falling away. ‘When do I leave?’
‘We’ll make arrangements for you to be dropped at the same place as last time—just over the Swiss border in occupied France.’ Val repositioned her glasses and fixed Lizzie with a stare. ‘You’ll fly in three days, weather permitting.’
The adrenaline coursed through Lizzie’s body at the prospect of the imminent mission. Travelling to Switzerland by the standard diplomatic route would take far too long for the SOE’s purposes, so they had told her she would arrive Seagrove style by the light of the moon.
‘And from there?’
‘You’ll wait until morning and then board the train to Bern as Elizabeth Gale with your Foreign Office papers. A piece of cake for you.’
Lizzie’s heart thumped, and she was breathless at the thought of flying in by Lysander and dropping into occupied France again. She wasn’t sure whether her rapid heartbeat was from fear or excitement.
After another brief discussion, Val left, as silently as she had arrived, and the instructor returned with coffee for them both and resumed the training.
‘The timeline has changed, and we only have a few days to prepare. It’ll be a long night, so I suggest you cancel any plans you have for this evening. ’
Lizzie thought wistfully of the romantic dinner date she and Jack had planned.
They were supposed to dine at their favourite French bistro, but she would have to tell him she couldn’t make it.
He would understand, but with only a few days left in London, a heavy sense of loss clawed at her.
It was always hard to part from Jack when she left on a mission, and now that they were enjoying the freedom of being openly engaged, she had a feeling it would be even more difficult to say goodbye.
Next, she studied the intelligence services that were operational in Bern. The instructor said, ‘The main ones to be aware of are the German, American OSS and the Soviet networks. Oh, and of course, Swiss counterintelligence.’
Afternoon rolled into evening. Lizzie had slipped out to tell Jack she would come to his office when she finished. The session ran on until almost midnight, so she doubted he would still be there, but she went anyway just to check.
The door creaked as she pushed it open and saw Jack hunched over his desk with a sheaf of papers in front of him. ‘At last,’ he said. ‘How did it go?’
Lizzie moved towards him. ‘It was exhausting. There’s so much to learn, I found it overwhelming. I hadn’t realised how little I knew about Switzerland, never mind the Swiss banking system.’
‘Understandable,’ Jack said, tidying his papers and storing them in a locked cupboard. ‘Don’t worry. You’ve still got plenty of time to prepare.’
Lizzie pulled a mournful expression. ‘Val hasn’t told you yet, then.’
Jack searched her eyes. ‘I don’t like the sound of that. Told me what?’
‘The departure details have changed. I’m to leave in a few days.’