I lost all track of time as we bunched together in the back of the aircraft. The co-pilot came out and told us we would land at Tangmere airfield in five minutes.
Sure enough, five minutes later, we bumped down onto the airstrip and taxied to a standstill before being helped out of the aircraft.
A British army soldier was waiting to meet us on the tarmac and the crew helped us down from the plane.
‘Bonjour,mademoiselles,’ greeted the soldier. He nodded at Marcel. ‘Sergeant.’
‘Just give us a moment, Corporal,’ he said.
The corporal walked back to the waiting car.
Marcel turned to me. ‘Thomas Colvin.’
I looked at him, confused by this statement. ‘What?’
‘Thomas Colvin,’ he repeated. ‘I said that would be the first thing I told you once we’re on British soil.’
‘Thomas Colvin.’ I repeated the unfamiliar name, resetting my mind to think of Marcel as Thomas. I smiled at him and rose onto tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek. ‘Hello, Thomas.’
Chapter 38
Nathalie
Now safely on British soil, we were taken over to Tangmere Cottage, which was the operations room for the airfield, and given something to eat and a cup of coffee. It had been so long since I’d tasted real coffee that I was almost sick, such was the richness of the taste.
‘We have tea, if you’d prefer,’ suggested one of the airmen as we sat in the messroom.
‘I’m not sure I’m that desperate,’ I said.
The airman looked at me as if most offended, and I couldn’t help laughing.
‘I thought you were serious for a minute,’ said the airman.
‘It’s nice to see you smile,’ said Marcel, coming to sit beside me. I corrected my internal thought, reminding myself he was Thomas now.
‘What happens next?’ I asked.
‘We’ll be debriefed individually,’ said Thomas. ‘But before that, I’ll be paying a visit to the hospital to get my shoulder looked at.’
‘How is it?’ I asked. I hadn’t missed him wincing from time to time, when he thought I wasn’t watching.
‘Bloody sore, if I’m honest. But I’ll live.’ He reached over with his good hand and squeezed mine. ‘Everything will be all right. Don’t worry.’
‘I’m not worried about myself, just you and Odile,’ I said. ‘She’s just a child. She can’t be on her own.’
Thomas looked over at my cousin, who had so far refused food and had only accepted a glass of water. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said.
That first night, or what was left of it, Odile and I were given a room upstairs at Tangmere Cottage.
‘Where will you be?’ I asked, suddenly feeling anxious Thomas might be whisked away from me.
‘Once I’m back from the hospital, I’ll be in barracks,’ he said. ‘As civilians, you get the guest rooms.’ He laughed at this and I realised it was the British sense of humour coming out. I had seen little of it in France, but now safe on home soil, he obviously felt more relaxed. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be here waiting to take you to breakfast. There will be questions to answer, but they’re going to take us up to Bignor Manor for that.’
‘Bignor Manor?’ It sounded like we were visiting a country home rather than the local headquarters for the Special Operations Executive and the Secret Intelligence Service.
‘It’s a safe house where personnel, French in particular, pass through,’ explained Thomas. ‘Going in and coming out of France. The owner, Tony Bertram, is a major. Speaks fluent French. MI6 persuaded him to open the doors to help the war effort.’
‘So many people, both here and in France, are involved in fighting the war,’ I said. ‘It’s not just the soldiers on the ground.’
