She looked at the instrument, her soul mate. Then she looked up at her questioner. ‘It depends how you play it, Mr Dynes, doesn’t it?’
Chapter 6
German Agents Provide a Delphin 7 Secret Radio
White steam followed the train like a bride’s veil as the coast disappeared from view. Hilda relaxed in her eight-seat compartment and contemplated her unexpected encounter in Aberdeen. She could see why Dynes and Thornton had been suspicious of her, but hopefully, they were now satisfied that the only way Germany would feature in her plans in the near future would be the sharing of any useful information she had about the country. She resolved to co-operate as fully as possible with her British contacts; in fact, beneath the apprehension and misgivings regarding the whole idea of becoming a spy, she was beginning to feel a little anxiety but also excitement.
An hour and twenty minutes later the Aberdeen to Inverness train pulled into Forres. Steam hissed along the side of the train as she stepped down into familiar territory with her suitcase in one hand and black box in the other. She proceeded through the station, walked down Gordon Street and turned into the High street. There before her was the welcome sight of the Commercial Hotel, her family home.
She climbed the steps to the reception desk and rang the bell. The door opened and her mother appeared.
‘Darling, you’re home!’ Madge Campbell stuffed a dishtowel into her apron pocket and opened her arms wide. Hilda put her bags down and they hugged, both talking at the same time. There would be plenty of time for questions and answers, but not at that moment.
‘Welcome home,’ said the bellboy who had appeared in the hallway. ‘I’ll take your luggage.’
‘Thank you, Fergus. My, you have grown into a handsome young man now.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Richter. If you say so, I am pleased. Not many girls do,’ he replied with a note of mischief in his smile. ‘Anyway, it’s good to see you again. Is Otto here too?’
‘No, Otto has just finished school and is kept very busy,’ she replied, beaming at him with a wish to speak of Otto. However, his romantic misadventures preoccupied her mind. ‘And get away with you. I’m sure the lasses have an eye for you.’
Fergus grinned but his mind was elsewhere. ‘What’s his work? Otto, I mean.’
‘In Germany, we have national service; that’s what Otto is doing. It’s compulsory.’
Madge hopped from one foot to the other, becoming impatient.
‘Wheesht Fergus. Take Hilda’s bags upstairs,’ she told him, waving her arm to shush him on his way. ‘It’s wonderful to have you back home, darling, just wonderful. I have been so worried. However, you are here. I almost can’t believe it.’ She took a pace backwards and admired her daughter. ‘You are looking so well.’
‘I suspect it’s the sea air. I’m not getting any younger.’
‘Well, neither am I and that is a fact,’ she said with a robust laugh.
Hilda laughed too. ‘Where am I sleeping?’ she asked. ‘My usual room?’
‘No, you’re in the attic if you don’t mind. We’ve got a few guests this week, travelling salesmen. Moreover, your father is in the back bedroom these days. He can’t get upstairs now.’
‘Oh. How is Father?’
Madge’s face said it all. ‘He’s not well… not well at all, dear. The Doctor says his heart is weak, and of course, you know he had a stroke last year. He has little movement down his left side. That is why I hoped you would come. You had better go and see him while I will organise a cup of tea for us. There’s some gingerbread I made yesterday.’
‘Mmm, gingerbread. That’s a treat.’
Hilda went through the corridor to the back bedroom, passing the wood-panelled walls festooned with pictures of the town in its former days. They seemed to smile as if she was their long-lost friend as she passed by. She opened the door of the bedroom, but her father seemed to be asleep. She approached and bent forward to kiss him, and he opened his eyes. A faint smile curved his lips and his eyes shone a welcome as he recognised her. His voice was soft but stronger than she had expected.
‘Hilda… darling… my little girl. I’m so pleased to see you again,’ he managed to say through his half-paralysed mouth.
‘You have been in my thoughts all the time, Dad,’ she replied with a lump in her throat.
‘But… Herr Hitler… he worries me.’ It was clearly an effort for him to speak.
‘He worries me too but not today. I’m home with you.’
Mother arrived with a tray and placed it on the dressing table. She poured out two cups of tea, and half-filled a mug for father. Hilda recognised the same friendly teapot, which had been there in the family home throughout her childhood, though it had lost some of its shine. One day, she reflected, it would be hers. The thought of her using it daily would perpetuate a family tradition.
She soon settled back into a routine, helping her mother in the kitchen and staffing the reception desk. She brought her father his meals and received each time a loving smile. In fact, she picked up on the life of her youth very easily – until one day, a letter arrived.
She found it propped up on the reception desk, held in position by the bell. The postman never left letters there; he always placed them in the middle of the desk, face down. Hilda was immediately suspicious. She lifted it up and saw distinctive German script on the envelope. There was no postmark, and she realised right away, who had left it. It seemed the German agents in the north of Scotland were here in her town.
She moved smartly to the front step of the hotel and looked both ways, but saw nothing untoward. People in the street seemed to be attending to their own business, and no one was moving away in a hurry.
She stood at the top of the steps for a few more minutes, until Fergus appeared.
‘Can I get you anything, Mrs Richter?’
She turned and smiled at him. ‘No, I’m just getting some fresh air.’
‘I see you have a letter. Is it from Otto?’
‘No, not this one,’ she replied, holding it so that he could not see the address.
She retired to her room and slid a sharp metal comb handle through the top of the letter. A small booklet fell out, which on closer inspection proved to be a codebook. She flipped through it and read the instructions, which were in German, of course. Was she to memorize all these symbols? Moreover, where was the accompanying radio? Then she slid the enclosed letter out of the envelope and unfolded it. The message was quite brief.
It was late, well after ten that evening, when she called the number Mr Dynes had given her.
‘I’ve heard from an agent.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘I’ve to ask for Mr and Mrs Brown, but I suspect that’s false. I have been asked to go to the Bunchrew Country hotel near Inverness on Friday.’
‘Then you must go. Have you been asked to stay overnight at the hotel?’
‘No, the meeting is at twelve noon.’
‘I’ll send a money order to cover your costs. I’ll be waiting to hear from you on Friday night.’
‘And if I’m not home at a reasonable hour?’
‘Then, Saturday morning, of course.’
She replaced the receiver feeling reprimanded for not thinking the obvious answer. Her mother came into the lounge in her dressing gown at the same moment.
‘Are you still up?’
‘Yes, I had to make a telephone call. I’ve arranged to visit a friend I’ve not seen for a while, Mother, in Inverness this Friday.’
‘A school friend?’
‘No, someone I met when I was studying in Aberdeen.’ It was only half a lie.
‘I see. Why not bring her here, then?’
She hesitated, not wishing her mother to know anything about the role she had undertaken.