Free Get Lenin by Robert Craven Page B

as their special guest and perhaps run a feature in one of the magazines she worked for.
    Now they were descending through the clouds into the city that had driven her out five years ago, a city run by a maniac and his henchmen. The night before they had departed, she had dreamed of Jonas, not uncommon, but this time more realistic.
    She was in the morgue again, looking for him. She could hear him calling out to her from beneath the shrouds and she was pulling the sheets off to find him. Beneath every sheet removed was someone she knew; Papa, Mamma, Grampy and Aga, then Theo, Dariusz, De Witte - which disturbed her - and eventually she uncovered Jonas.
    He was, as she remembered; dead, bloodied and broken, still on the gurney, but now dressed in a German Army uniform. Then suddenly his eyes opened wide, staring right at her, through her, his ruined mouth trying to talk.
    She woke in a sweat, screaming.
    The residue of the dream haunted her thoughts for the flight, putting her in a different world from the sisters who were chatting excitedly about the visit. Composing herself with a deep breath, she joined in and feigned joy at travelling around the most modern city in Europe.
    Templehof Airport was busy as she descended the steps of the aircraft. Eva and the Mitfords watched the lines of international flights arriving and departing. Luftwaffe escort fighters taxied idly in lines, their pilots and crews lounging and standing in knots.
    In the main terminal, she could hear British accents, French accents, and Swiss High German and Eastern European voices through the bustling arrivals area. Security was tight, with SS and Gestapo working alongside the police, everyone departing or arriving being subjected to questioning and identity checks. Once through the checks, they were greeted by a plain clothes party member who saluted them.
    Mosley swept past him with barely a recognition; leaving it to Diana to make the introductions. His name was Otto Gottlieb and he had the careworn, nervous manner of an underling. Outside, a sleek plush Mercedes waited, with Nazi party flags flapping from the mudguards.
    Mosley and the women sat in the back, the others following in a taxi behind. Eva’s eyes glanced around the city. Humbolt University where Jonas had been thrown off a balcony swept past. It brought a sudden unexpected stab to her heart. Within minutes they were at the Chancellery.
    They were ushered into Hitler’s private chambers. He was regrettably unable to meet Herr Mosley, they were informed by his secretary, as he had an urgent matter to attend to. From beyond the door, there heard a man yelling, extolling and screaming out words, the door muffling what was being shouted.
    ‘ The Führer’s practising for his speech tomorrow. He’s spent hours rehearsing,’ she explained with a cold but effective smile.
    Mosley, momentarily wrong-footed, spun on his heel and barked over his shoulder as he strode from the room, ‘I’ll talk to him tonight!’
    The door opened and a tall, grey-haired man of about sixty, dressed in Donegal tweed and knee-high brown boots, appeared. He looked flushed as if he had been doing all the shouting.
    ‘ You! Yeah you, miss. Get me tea, tea understand? – t-e-a with lots of honey. There’s a honey!’ He laughed at this.
    The secretary turned, her face anxious.
    ‘ Quickly, doll! Adolf thinks he’s losing his voice!’
    She stepped back to her desk and phoned for tea to be delivered to the chambers. Eva held the man’s gaze as he stared at her. ‘Hello, Donald, we meet again. You don't remember me?’ she made her smile very enticing and Donald T Kincaid returned the smile, ''fraid not, doll.' He clapped his hands louder. 'Schnell, schnell. Christ what's keeping you guys!'
    Unity enquired gently, 'Is everything alright with Adolf?'
    ‘ Voice coaching. Giving him a little razzamatazz!’
    ‘ Gosh,’ breathed Unity as Kincaid clapped his hands at the seething secretary. ‘Schnell! Schnel,