“Forging papers for people who wanted to leave Germany.”
He pressed his lips together and then spoke again. “I don’t know that I helped, but I funded what Ulli and Anton were trying to do. They had the press, they had the connections, so I made it possible to get the special quality papers and other materials they needed, and of course to buy favors from people in the right places. It wasn’t only Lorraine’s money that came in to help them, but mine. I hope they are still doing it, and I hope they are successful. They are both brave young men. Braver than I might have been in their shoes.”
They continued to eat in silence for a while, and Maisie realized that Donat might become overtired. As he finished lunch, placing his knife and fork together to signal he’d had enough, the housekeeper knocked on the door and stepped into the room.
“You asked to be reminded about the broadcast, Mr. Donat.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Would you turn on the wireless? I want to listen to the news.” He turned to Maisie. “Do you mind very much, my dear? They’re broadcasting Chamberlain’s speech. He arrived home from Munich with an important announcement, and I want to hear what he has to say.”
“Not at all. I think we all want to know what’s happened.” Maisie leaned forward to listen.
“Sit down, Mrs. Randall—you too,” said Donat.
Maisie kept watch on Leon Donat, and as the housekeeper took a seat, the radio broadcast began, the speaker crackling as Neville Chamberlain’s voice echoed into the dining room.
We, the German Führer and Chancellor, and the British Prime Minister, have had a further meeting today and are agreed in recognizing that the question of Anglo-German relations is of the first importance for our two countries and for Europe. We regard the agreement signed last night and the Anglo-German Naval Agreement as symbolic of the desire of our two peoples never to go to war with one another again.
As the broadcast continued, Maisie watched Donat close his eyes and become still. Maisie reached out to touch his hand, and he grasped hers in return.
The housekeeper stood up and turned off the wireless as the announcer moved on to other news. “They say it’s peace for our time, now that man Hitler over there has signed this agreement. After 1918, I can’t imagine that any of them has the gall to go to war again. We paid a high enough price the last time.”
Donat looked up. “Quite right, Mrs. Randall. I think Maisie and I will take our coffee in the conservatory.”
Maisie helped Donat into the conservatory, making sure he was seated in comfort on a wicker chair and had enough cushions to support his back. She took a seat next to him as they waited for Mrs. Randall to bring coffee.
“What do you think, Mr. Donat?”
Donat shook his head. “What do I think? I think you know exactly what I think—we were both in Munich. We saw the Brownshirts. We saw the Gestapo, and we both know what goes on in Dachau—and Dachau is only one prison of its kind; there are others, and more being built. So what do I think? I think our prime minister is either a fool or a liar. And it might be better for him if he were a fool—though the outcome will be the same.”
Maisie watched as Donat’s eyes seemed to become heavy again. She stood up, placed her hand on his shoulder, and in a low voice, told her host that she should be on her way.
At a slow pace, with Maisie supporting him, Donat accompanied Maisie to the door. She insisted he remain at the threshold. It was as she reached the Alvis that Leon Donat mustered his strength to call out to her.
“Maisie—we have our freedom, both of us. We are lucky, very lucky. Make sure you use it well.” He waved. “Come again, won’t you?”
Maisie returned the wave as she stepped into the motor car. As she began to drive toward the road, she saw a young man come to Donat’s side to help him indoors. She had no doubt that, following a brief nap, he would be back at his drawing board. A valuable boffin at work for his country.
Soon after Maisie’s return from Munich, she had received an invitation to lunch from John Otterburn, and two subsequent requests to meet. She had declined, each reply courteous, but lacking the warmth she would have extended to a friend. Two days after Neville Chamberlain’s broadcast, she received another letter from Otterburn.
Dear Maisie,
I cannot say I was surprised by your refusal to meet. Perhaps that was too much to ask of you, in the circumstances. I appreciate your note of thanks, but I must confess my reason for assistance in procuring the aircraft in Munich was purely selfish. I wanted my daughter home, and you gave me the perfect opportunity. The gratitude should be all mine, because you kept your word.