Chapter 22

East River was moving swiftly as they merged into the stream of vessels heading south. Around them were tugs, barges and ferries. Those moving toward the city with produce and those away from it full of refuse, prisoners bound for Rikers' and workers on the night shift. Even in the light of early dawn New York was impressive. David was on the bridge with a German non-com, pointing out hazards and giving directions to their mooring site. Liz, Josh and Julia were at the bow, rubbernecking like tourists. The British marines and the rest of the German sub crew were peering from the cabin windows.

Having finally made clear the direction to take, David stepped out to join the others. He noticed with a smile that Liz and Josh were holding hands — their connection quite unconscious, but it spoke volumes about their common affection.

New York seemed like an impossible dream. Josh and the girls had grown up in a bombed out Europe. Any large building a target for bombers. It would seem somewhat perilous to them, reflected David, to see these towers. The top of the Chrysler building seemed made of gold as it reflected the rising sun.

Arriving seemed like an anticlimax, after all they had been through. Alighting from the boat, they stood waiting for David to speak. Clearing his voice he began, "Listen up men. With the money that Julia has handed out, I want you to go and get yourselves cleaned up, get yourselves some clothes and food. We'll meet at Grand Central Terminal tomorrow at noon. Does everyone understand?"

After various submariners interpreted and reinterpreted David's instructions, they all nodded. The money they had been given was quite substantial easily enough to last them a week if they were careful and David wondered how many of them would make the rendezvous.

David knew that Julia had given instructions for the marines to make their way to the British consulate. He hoped she had thought to tell them to get a change of clothing. They would stick out like sore thumbs dressed in their marine fatigues. The military were not as welcome as they had once been — and for foreign military personnel it went double.

Soon the men had dispersed and David moved his group out of the docks and hailed a cab. Soon they were on their way to the Carlyle. While it was a rather modern hotel, it certainly didn't lack for atmosphere. Liz informed David that some of her relatives had stayed there and they thought it "tops".

They arrived and stumbled out of the cab. A uniformed doorman stood at the entrance. They must have looked a sight mused David. Their clothing was dirty and smelly. Liz's face swathed in bandages and for luggage all they had were a couple of duffels. But training won out, and the concierge opened the door and bid them welcome.

Mustering all the gravitas they could gather, they walk up the steps and into luxury.

"Ferrum, Virginia ... Yes, yes that right." David spoke patiently to the operator. Look just get me through to the switchboard at Ferrum, I'll talk to them ... Yes, I'll wait."

Glancing around, David could hardly believe the opulence of his surroundings. He'd grown up amidst wealth and privilege, but this seemed excessive. Josh was across the room filling his cut glass tumbler with some malt whiskey that must have been older than him. David sipped his own. Smooth, very smooth. He could hear the girls in their bedroom laughing and trying on dresses. There was no need to go shopping — the shop came to you.

Looking into the gilt mirror next to the phone stand, David admired his new suit. 'Good cut' he thought, 'I hope Julia is up to some dancing tonight — would be a waste to wear such elegant clothes and not go out.'

Breaking into his thoughts, an operator spoke. "Ferrum exchange, Franklin County Virginia, how may I help you?"

"Yes operator, I would like to place a call to Ferrum 183 - Senator and Mrs Ogilvy's residence."

"Senator Ogilvy is in Washington at the moment sir, would you like me to patch you through to the Washington exchange."

David marvelled once again at the intimate knowledge telephonists had of their local communities. "No there is no need, I want to speak to Mrs Ogilvy."

"Very well sir, putting you through."

David was relieved his father was not at home on the family farm. Looking at his watch he was surprised to see that it was 4:00pm, how the day had flown.! His mother ought to be on her third martini by now he estimated, so chances were she would not be answering the phone.

"Good Afternoon" An efficient voice answered the phone. "The Ogilvy residence, Miss Pratchet speaking, whom may I say is calling?"

David sighed with relief. "Bunny, It's me David! Don't speak for a moment — are you alone?"

"Yes — I'm alone. David, we've been so worried about you. Shipwrecked in the Irish sea — how horrible that must have been!"

For a moment David was nonplussed till he remembered that his double had died in the sinking of the Irish ferry.

"Oh and congratulations are in order — marrying royalty. Your father is livid — but your mother has been searching through catalogues for a dress to outdo the classiest aristocrat!" Bunny — Miss Pratchet seemed amused. She was David's mother's personal Secretary. She had also been more of a mother to David than his mother had ever been. The relief and pride in her voice was quite evident.

"Listen Bunny, I have certain obligations I need to see to before I can get home to see you and Mother, but I am hoping that you can organise some accommodation for 20 or so German speaking refugees. I will send them on the train tomorrow from New York. If there is anyone you know who speaks German, it might be wise to have them standing by."

Bunny busily took notes and arrangements were made. "David, your father is insistent that you contact him as soon as possible. He wants to know about your political ambitions."

"My what?" David exclaimed.

"Well they weren't the exact words he said — but he's heard that you are going to run for office in the elections in November."

"I'm what?" He felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. "Look if you hear from my father, you tell him, I would not run for office, even if I could become President. I hate politics with a hatred unseen before in the history of the world." The bile was rising in his stomach, just thinking about the run-ins with his father when he explained he would not be following in the steps of his father and grandfather before him.

Bunny laughed, "Don't get so excited, I'll tell him."

After an exchange of pleasantries, David hung up the phone.