Free A Kiss for the Enemy by David Fraser Page B

was less than perfect.
    â€˜Damn!’
    The striped pole of a level crossing descended before them. Anthony wound down the window.
    â€˜I can’t even hear the train!’
    â€˜It will come,’ said Frido lamely. Kaspar von Arzfeld liked regularity. Uncovenanted lateness for meals was to be deplored. Lise was additionally nervous because her attentions were needed for the preparation of supper, but she said nothing.
    Anthony switched the engine off. After what seemed an eternity a slow freight train rumbled past. It consisted of flats: on each flat was a large shape covered by tarpaulins, each shape exactly similar. Anthony’s inexperienced eye took in what appeared to be caterpillar tracks, visible below each tarpaulin.
    â€˜Do you suppose those are tanks, Frido?’
    â€˜Well maybe, I don’t know,’ said Frido.
    â€˜Hell of a lot of them.’ Anthony looked at his watch. Nearly six o’clock.
    Eventually the train passed and the barrier lifted. It was three minutes after they started again that the sounds beneath the bonnet of the Morris became insistent and menacing. Neither Anthony nor Frido was a skilled or even primitively instructed mechanic. They looked at each other. It was a regular, rapping sound. Anthony made a face and drove on faster. The sound grew louder.
    â€˜I think you have trouble,’ said Frido, very seriously. At that moment steam began to float back over the windscreen. The rapping noise was now louder than the engine.
    â€˜Better have a look,’ said Anthony. He had no idea what to look for. He stopped the car on a grass verge, and dismounted to fiddle with the catches securing the bonnet. The others climbed out.
    â€˜Have you a torch in the car, Anthony?’ There was no torch. The light was fading. A cloud of steam hit them as the bonnet flap was raised. There was a hissing sound. A great deal of oil appeared everywhere.
    â€˜Anthony, perhaps it would be better to return to the village we just went through. We can borrow a torch. We can inspect.’
    â€˜I don’t think inspection will help us much. But I agree. Let’s go back there.’
    They climbed into the car. Anthony pressed the self-starter. No response. This happened several times.
    â€˜I’ll swing it.’
    But efforts with the starting handle also proved futile.
    â€˜Do we know what the village was called? We’d better walk back to it and see if we can organize help.’
    â€˜I saw the name,’ said Lise, ‘I don’t think I have been to it before. It said Kranenberg.’
    Frido had a cigarette lighter and they inspected the map.
    â€˜I can’t see it. This is our road south isn’t it, Frido? And we’ve just crossed the railway.’
    Frido was peering intently at the map, frowning. He sighed. He had found Kranenberg.
    â€˜Anthony, we are on the wrong road. We have been going east. Not south but east. South-east.’
    They digested this.
    â€˜Well,’ said Anthony, ‘we’re broken down, wherever we are. And I think we’d better set out in search of rescuers. Do you suppose there’s such a thing as a telephone in Kranenberg?’
    Frido was still bent over the map.
    â€˜We are very near the Langenbachs. The family I told you about. Where Anna von Arzfeld lives. Anna Langenbach.’
    â€˜How near?’
    â€˜Maybe two miles. This is what I will do. I will walk back to Kranenberg. I will telephone from there to Anna and explain. I will ask her to organize help. She – the Langenbachs – will know where the nearest repair garage is, someone who can tow the car in. I will ask Anna to speak to them. She will advise us.’
    â€˜If she’s there.’
    â€˜I expect she is there. It is very quiet. She does not go away. It will be easier if I speak to Anna. If she is not there I will explain to Herr Langenbach.’ Frido sounded dubious and disappeared into the gathering darkness.
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