Page 37 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)

Cairo

June 5th, 1944

William Deakin put his head into Leo’s office.

‘How do you like Italian food?’

Leo looked up, puzzled. ‘I love it. Why?’

‘Fancy a change of air? You know we’ve been running a substation out in Bari for several months now. It’s been decided that all Balkan operations will be conducted from there in future. So how do you feel about a transfer?’

‘Are you going?’ Leo asked.

‘Yes and no. I’m being seconded to the staff of Mr Harold Macmillan. He’s the Cabinet representative for the Mediterranean theatre. I’m going to act as adviser to the new Balkan Air Force. So I’ll be based in Bari. If you fancy going too, I can arrange that.’

Leo did not need long to make up her mind. She was tired of the heat and the sand and the flies, and Cairo had become a less exciting place to work recently. Sasha was in London and, if Deakin was leaving, there would be no one in the office she particularly liked working with.

‘Yes, please,’ she responded. ‘I should love that.’

Her preparations for departure were somewhat interrupted next day by the celebrations resulting from the announcement of the Allied invasion of France, but on the following day she arranged to give up the little flat on the houseboat and did her packing. She felt a pang of regret at leaving there. It had some tender memories for her. She made the rounds of the friends she had made at the sporting club to say goodbye and took a box of chocolate biscuits to the FANY coders who had worked for her. James Klugmann shook hands with her and took his cigarette out of his mouth long enough to remind her not to forget the ‘historical imperative of liberation’. Then all that was left was to wait for transport to become available.

On June 10th she took off in a Dakota together with a new group of FANY coders to fly to Bari. A van collected her and the other girls – they were all so young that Leo felt old enough to be their grandmother – to the town of Mola di Bari a short distance along the coast. Looking out of the windows as they drove, Leo rejoiced in the sight of sparkling water breaking on the rocky shore and olive groves on the landward side, all bathed in a sunlight that seemed more gentle than it was in Egypt. Moli was an attractive town of whitewashed houses clustering around a harbour protected by a long concrete and earth breakwater or mole that gave the town its name.

In the central square they found the cathedral and also the Pallazzo Albertonza, which had been taken over as the HQ for SOE Mediterranean. Here she was introduced to her new boss, Lieutenant Colonel Lord Harcourt. ‘Call me Bill,’ he instructed genially, while Leo wondered internally why so many of the men who worked for SOE were called Bill.

A FANY secretary, who introduced herself as Pauline, was instructed to show Leo her new office.

‘We’ve had a bit of excitement in the last few days,’ she said, by way of making conversation. ‘Guess who suddenly arrived.’

‘Who?’ Leo asked. She was tired and would have preferred to get settled in without chatting.

‘That man called Tito. He was air-lifted out of Yugoslavia a few days ago.’

Leo felt as though some unseen hand had grabbed her heart. ‘Tito is here?’ she repeated breathlessly.

‘Yes. They put him and his entourage in a villa just outside Bari. I know because a friend of mine was sent to the NAAFI to buy a dozen toothbrushes for them.’

Leo stopped walking and put her hand on the girl’s arm. ‘Listen, please! It’s absolutely vital for me to meet Tito. Can you tell me where they are staying? How can I get there?’

Pauline looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know exactly. My friend just said outside Bari. I think it’s supposed to be a secret.’

‘Please!’ Leo pleaded. ‘You don’t understand. I believe my daughter is with him. I haven’t seen her for years. This might be the one chance I have of catching up with her.’

‘Your daughter?’ Her companion looked mystified.

‘Yes. It’s too complicated to explain quickly. Can’t you just tell me where to find her?’

Pauline hesitated for a moment. Then she said, ‘Look. I could introduce you to General Stanwell’s secretary. He’s the commanding officer out here and he went to meet Tito when he arrived. She will know where he’s staying. But she may have to speak to the general to get permission to take you there.’

‘Then please let’s do that,’ Leo said. Her breath was coming in short gasps and her heart was pounding.

Pauline led her down a flight of stairs and along a corridor until they reached a door with General Stanwell’s name on it. She tapped and put her head inside, then turned back to Leo.

‘Looks like the general’s out but we can see what Margaret says.’

Inside the room Leo rapidly repeated what she had told Pauline.

‘Your daughter?’ Margaret repeated. ‘Yes, now I come to think about it there was a young woman with Tito. He said she was his secretary.’ Her eyes widened. ‘And she had red hair, like yours.’

‘That’s her!’ Leo gasped. ‘That’s Alix. So you understand why I really am desperate to get to wherever Tito is staying so I can see her.’

An expression of regret clouded Margaret’s face. ‘I’m terribly sorry, but you’ve just missed her. Tito and his party are scheduled to board HMS Blackmore any minute now, to be taken to Vis. That’s where the general is. He’s gone to see them off.’

Leo sagged at the knees and groped her way to a chair. The disappointment was almost unbearable.

Above her head Pauline said, ‘What time were they scheduled to cast off, exactly?’

‘Er… 17:35,’ was the answer.

‘That’s not for another sixteen minutes and there’s always a chance they might be delayed.’ Pauline tugged at Leo’s arm. ‘Come on. I’ll drive you. We might just make it.’

They clattered down the marble staircase and out into a courtyard where several cars were parked.

‘With any luck I’ve just got enough petrol to get us to Bari harbour,’ Pauline said. ‘Jump in.’

As they drove out of the courtyard Leo pulled herself together enough to ask, ‘Are you sure it’s okay for you to use the car to take me? I mean, it’s not against regulations?’

‘Regulations be blowed!’ Pauline responded. ‘This is an errand of mercy.’

From that moment Leo said nothing more as they swerved round convoys of trucks, horn blaring, zigzagging round potholes in the road. It was obvious that her driver had taken the challenge of getting her to the harbour in time with ardour. But the roads were crowded with military traffic of one kind and another and the minutes ticked past agonisingly fast.

At last, they reached the harbour. There was a barrier across the entrance manned by military police.

‘I’ve got an urgent message for someone on board HMS Blackmore ,’ Pauline told one of them.

‘ Blackmore? ’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry, love. She sailed five minutes ago. There she goes, see?’

Leo climbed out of the car. Far across the harbour she could make out the sleek form of a destroyer, just clearing the end of the long mole on its way to Vis.