Page 10 of Echoes of Betrayal

‘Well, we’re pleased that you could get here so soon after the post was vacated. The Commercial Attaché is running around like a headless chicken and will be most happy to have you on board.’

‘Excellent,’ Lizzie said. ‘It will be interesting to spend time in neutral territory. You’ll have to give me some tips on how everything works around here. I’m afraid I don’t know much about Switzerland at all.’

Tom Green winked at Lizzie, and she smiled back at him. He seemed like a good chap and had been very helpful last time. Val spoke highly of him and said he would be an asset to her assignment, and she could trust him.

Tom pointed out the window as the car wound through the medieval streets with arcades and elegant sandstone buildings. ‘This is the Old Town. It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?’

Lizzie agreed it was. ‘It makes poor blitzed London look very sad in comparison. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to live in a country that’s not at war.’

Tom assured her she would soon grow accustomed to it. ‘It will be a pleasant respite for you.’ The car crossed an arched iron bridge. ‘This is the famous Kirchenfeldbrücke, constructed in 1883. And that down there is the River Aare.’

Lizzie gasped as she saw the fast-flowing turquoise waters moving in a circular motion around the medieval town. ‘It’s stunning,’ she said.

Tom nodded. ‘I’m used to it now, but it is a breathtaking sight, especially in the centre of town like this.’ The car rumbled on. ‘The bridge leads us into the Kirchenfeld district. It might take you a while to grasp some names, but it’s worth taking note.’

‘Thank you,’ Lizzie said. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘I suppose as a translator you will be much quicker than I was to remember the German names.’

They chatted about nothing of any consequence, both aware of the driver’s presence.

Tom continued talking as they drove down the impressive tree-lined residential boulevard. ‘Here we are on Thunstrasse,’

The trees were naked, and the bare branches shivered in the wind. Lizzie admired the architecture of the rows of grand 19th-century houses set back from the wide street. A moment later the car stopped and turned into the gravelled driveway of the British Legation at number 50.

They alighted, and Tom asked Lizzie if she’d like to go straight to her apartment. ‘I brought you here so you’ll know how to get here when you have rested, but you’re not expected to report for duty until tomorrow.’

‘Thank you. That would be good. I must admit I need some sleep and to freshen up. I’d prefer to meet my new boss when I’m looking tidier.’

Tom picked up her suitcase and beckoned for her to follow, and Lizzie caught up with him on the peaceful street. ‘You’re in luck with your accommodation. The apartment that the previous translator vacated is large and south-facing, and you even have a view of the peaks on a clear day. We get fog in Bern, as it sits on a plateau, worse than London to be honest, but fine days like this are marvellous.’

Lizzie gazed around and inhaled the fresh air as they walked.

‘Here we are,’ Tom said after just a few minutes, and he pointed to a five-storey building with an elegant cream-rendered façade.

Lizzie glanced upwards and saw that the apartments had tall windows, narrow balconies, and iron railings. ‘Very nice,’ she said, following closely up the stone steps and into a tiled entrance hall with a high ceiling.

Despite the Germanic lettering on the door, the building reminded Lizzie of Regent’s Park, and she felt immediately at home in the substantial building.

‘There’s a lift,’ Tom said. ‘You’re on the top floor, so it’s just as well.’

The lift appeared after a creaky arrival, and they stepped through the concertina door into the wrought iron cage, and it began its laborious ascent.

‘No one claimed it was quick!’ Tom said. ‘You might take the stairs when you have more energy.’

Lizzie liked Tom. He was easy-going, and she was pleased he would be her handler in case of emergencies. After he left, promising to get a message to London to confirm she had arrived, she wandered around the apartment, checking cupboards and gazing out the window, which offered a stunning panoramic view of the Alpine peaks on the horizon.

Lizzie removed her shoes from her aching feet and padded softly on the cold parquet floor into the kitchen. She yawned, genuinely this time, as she filled a small saucepan with water and set it on the stove to boil for a much-needed cup of tea. Curling up on the sofa with her hot tea in one hand, her stomach growled, and she realised she hadn’t eaten the apple the kind farmer had given her, and it had been many hours since her last meal.

Never mind, she was far too tired to eat now, so she placed her half-empty cup onto the table and was asleep in minutes, her head resting comfortably on a plump cushion.

Her dreams took her to Jack at Baker Street, and when she awoke a few hours later, she was disorientated to find herself in the strange room. She was Elizabeth Gale and had been posted to Bern. She could not afford to forget it, even for a second. Her eyes scanned the high, ornate ceiling, and it all came flooding back to her. That was the beauty of having a private apartment where she could allow herself to let her guard down a little. Doing so anywhere else was too dangerous and could have unforeseeable consequences, neutral territory or not. Jack had drummed into her that just because Switzerland was neutral did not mean she wouldn’t be at the mercy of a hotbed of spies. Bern was a spy city. He had warned her to keep an eye out for Swiss counterintelligence agents, and he reminded her there was also a German Legation, which was an alarming thought. It seemed wrong somehow that the Nazis could operate there as though they were respectable diplomats.

Jack’s deep voice rang in her head. ‘Be on your guard. There will no doubt be SD and Abwehr intelligence operatives posing under diplomatic cover. We are not the only ones playing this game. There will be eyes everywhere, so watch your back. The danger isn’t as physical as in occupied France or Berlin, but it will be there beneath the surface all the same.’

Lizzie stretched, and her throat was parched, so she took a sip of the remnants of her cold tea before rising and crossing to the window to admire the mountain peaks.

Let the games begin.