We'll meet again

"And make ourselves a laughingstock again?”

"It's what we're supposed to do.”

"Gordon said we did the right thing. How were we to know about those wretched fishes?”

"Let's go down and see who it is," I said. "I bet it's old Jim Treglow or Harry Penlore, or one of them. They might be just doing it to catch us ... to get another laugh at the expense of 'they foreigners.”

"Suppose it's some secret agent?”

"Don't make me laugh! That's one of the old fishing boats. There are lots of them in the harbor.”

I hesitated. We must not call the alarm again unless it was really necessary. If we had waited a while on that other occasion, we might have realized what we had seen was a shoal of fish and not an invading army.

"Come on," said Dorabella. "We'll watch them come in and, if it is anyone we don't know, we'll run up and give the alarm. There'll be time.”

We sped down the path to the beach and stood close together in the shelter of an overhanging rock. The engine had been shut off and there were no lights showing now. Nearer and nearer came the boat.

It touched the sand and then I heard a man's voice say something in French.

Dorabella caught her breath as the man looked up at the cliff face towards the house. He had not seen us.

Then he turned and another slight figure wrapped in a cloak had started to climb out of the boat. A woman, I thought.

We had to act. We had to slip away unseen. We had to give the alarm.

No one must be allowed to come ashore without some interrogation.

The man was looking our way. He had seen us. He spoke almost in a whisper but his voice was clear on the night air.

Dorabella said: "Jacques.

The man heard. He stepped towards us, the girl beside him.

Dorabella came out of the shelter of the rock. She walked towards the pair.

She said: "Jacques, what are you doing here?”

He turned and faced her.

"Dorabella, ma petite... "Then he held out his hands.

They stood facing each other, then he turned to his companion and said: "This is my sister, Simone.”

I knew who he was now. I had seen him before at the Christmas party at Jermyn's Priory when he had first met Dorabella. He was the French artist who had been painting the Cornish coast, and for the sake of whom she had faked a drowning accident and fled to France, leaving her husband and her little son Tristan.

He released her and turned to me, stretching out a hand and taking mine in his.

"I am so glad to see you," he said in his accented English. "I did not think we would arrive. The sea is calm but the craft is frail... and it is a long way to come.”

"Why... why?" stammered Dorabella.

"You ask that. We cannot live in France... not till we are free again. Neither Simone nor I. It is impossible. We are two of many who are making this journey. They take to the sea... they take the small boat ... and they risk their lives ... but what good is life as slaves, eh? So, we escape.”

"I see," said Dorabella. "It was very brave of you.”

She was studying Simone, a small, dark girl who looked romantically beautiful in the darkness of the night. I noticed she was shaking, and I said: "You must be cold.”

"We had long at sea," she answered. "It is not easy ... this Manche. No ... even on such a night as this. We are cold and hungry but we rejoice to have succeed. We are here... as we planned to be.”

"We can give you some food and something to drink," I said.

"Come up to the house. You can tell us all about what is happening over there.”

"And you... out at this time?" asked Jacques.

"On the watch," replied Dorabella. "For people like you. No, really, we are looking for Germans.”

"The enemy... you expect... ?”

"Any minute," said Dorabella. "We are on watch every night.”

"And you find us! I did not expect to see you so soon. I planned to land and wait till morning somewhere along the coast. Then we should throw ourselves on your mercy. We want to work for the overthrow of these tyrants who have taken our country. I shall join General de Gaulle as soon as possible ... and there will be some work Simone can do.”

I said: "I think you had better tie up your boat. I'll go and tell Gordon what has happened.”

"My sister is so practical," Dorabella told them.

"Ah, yes," said Jacques. "I remember this Gordon. The good manager, is that not so? You must tell him?”

"Yes. He is in control here and you will understand we have to report to him.”

"Of course, of course.”

I left them and went ahead into the house. My thoughts were in a whirl. What a coincidence! Dorabella's lover, escaping and coming to our beach! But then, I supposed he had made for it, thinking how much easier it would be to explain himself to those who already knew him than to strangers.

It was all very strange, but then so many strange things were had happening now.

Dorabella

Encounter in Paris