18Sep

Operation Tulip: Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour.

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Operation Tulip by Deborah Swift

London, December 1944

‘There’s someone I want you to meet!’ Neil’s voice down the phone was excited.

Tom clamped the phone receiver to his ear and got a pencil ready. ‘What about?’

‘Just say you’ll meet us. Tomorrow, I’ll come up to London. His name’s Pavel Aaldenburg and he’s Dutch. We’ve had the most belting idea!’

They arranged to meet at lunchtime at the Lyons’ Corner House, where Tom knew it was always busy and noisy and no-one would pay them any attention.

When he arrived at the door, Tom told the Nippy, ‘I’m meeting someone, he’s booked a table – name of Callaghan.’ She led him through the tables to a place at the far corner where Neil was already waiting, along with a tall, lanky-looking man, in a flat cap. This must be Pavel. 

Neil waved and the other man looked up, and a smile lit up his broad open face.

‘Can I order first, before we talk? I’m starving,’ Tom said. He didn’t go for Shepherd’s Pie this time because it always reminded him of Nancy. That’s how they’d first got together – here in the Lyons’ Corner House over Shepherd’s Pie. He ordered sausages and mash instead. 

‘That sound’s good. I’ll have the same. A man needs his sausage.’ Pavel winked at the young waitress in her black and white uniform, and the girl, grasping the innuendo, turned scarlet.

Tom, seeing her misery, said, ‘And tea please. We’ll take a pot of tea for three.’ He handed her back the menus.

One the waitress had gone, Neil said. ‘Pavel and I have cooked up a plan.’

The other man grinned.

‘Tell him,’ Neil said.

‘I’m a photographer,’ Pavel said. ‘And I’ve got an idea for a commission. I want to get behind the lines in occupied Holland – do a piece on the two sides of Holland, something to try to get the Americans to do something. An opinion piece if you like.’ 

‘That’s a cracking idea,’ Tom said. ‘Churchill’s been trying for ages to get the Americans to bite.’

‘Pictures would sell the story,’ Pavel said. ‘But I need an assistant, someone who can keep me in touch with England via wireless. And someone who can write decent copy.’

Tom knew immediately what they were asking. ‘Who’s organising this? Is it the BBC?’

Pavel shrugged. ‘No-one. I’m a freelance. Once I have the material, I’ll sell it, no problem.’

‘You mean, we’ll just do it ourselves?’ Tom was doubtful.

Neil was almost fizzing in his seat. ‘It’s perfect, Tom, isn’t it? I’ll be your contact here in England and we’ll stay in touch by radio. Lilli has said she’d make us both radio sets. You know, her father worked for Blaupunkt, so she’ll supply you with an unoffocial transmitter, and we can use your coding method. You’ll be in charge of getting on a frequency and making the transmissions, and of finding a way of getting the copy and photographs out.’

Pavel leant forward. ‘I know nothing about coding or radio, but I guess being Dutch will help. I’ve got contacts in the North.’

‘It’ll be harder, with two of us,’ Tom said, stalling. He was uncertain of Pavel Aaldenburg and unwilling to team with someone he didn’t know.

‘It’ll be perfect,’ Neil said. ‘Between us all, we should be able to get you there and get the story out, and once we do, the Yanks’ll be clamouring to help.’

Pavel agreed. ‘A first-hand report, and pictures, that’ll do the trick. Fly on the wall stuff, showing how bad it really is. Otherwise it’s all too easy to ignore. But a splash across the papers – the public outrage will mean they’ll have to do something.’

‘It will take planning, and I need to think about it. Going into an occupied zone is a life-risking activity.’ Tom paused as the waitress delivered his food. He’d grown cautious, it had dawned on him that going off into occupied territory with someone he hardly knew might not be the wisest idea. It was just the sort of thing he was always advising agents not to do. ‘I can’t just up and go without giving it serious thought – there’s my job for a start.’

Neil slapped his hand on the table. ‘Oh Tom, for pity’s sake! A month ago you were the one who wanted us to go straight to Biesbos and crawl through swamps to get there.’

He was right. But the prospect of doing it with someone he knew and trusted was different from doing it with someone he’d only just set eyes on.

‘Well, you get the passes sorted and the funding, and we’re on.’ Tom was playing for time, because he didn’t like to put a dampener on Neil’s big plan.

‘Good man!’ Pavel thumped the table. ‘I’ll need to make up a resume for you. Don’t suppose you’ve any journalism experience?’

‘None whatsoever.’ He hoped this would put Pavel off.

‘Good. Then we can just make it up.’

Universal Buy Link: http://mybook.to/Tulip

Buy Link for bookstores: 

Operation Tulip (WW2 Secret Agent Series)

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