My Name is Eva(20)
20
Eva, 16 August 1945
Smile for the Camera
‘Can you tell me why we have to have our picture taken today?’ Eva grumbled as she tucked a few stray hairs under her cap. She had reapplied her lipstick but was determined not to smile in the photograph.
‘The Chief likes to keep a record of everyone. Maybe he hasn’t got a good memory for faces. Don’t worry, you’ll get your own copy for old times’ sake.’ Jimmy had come to collect her from the little office where she was going to be typing up her interview notes. ‘Come on, don’t want to keep the gang waiting.’
Eva followed him along the corridor. It was her second day and she’d done nothing so far, apart from equip her typewriter with a new ribbon, file some reports and sharpen her pencils. But maybe this would be the day she finally met the man she had come here hoping to confront.
Another new female clerk joined them as they neared the entrance and they all stepped outside into the hot sunshine. Squinting in the brightness, Eva said, ‘How long is this going to take? I haven’t even started on any real work yet.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I should make the most of the peace and quiet while you can. You’ll soon be hard at it.’ Jimmy felt inside his jacket, then offered both girls a cigarette. When they declined, he said, ‘Well, if you’re not going to smoke your ration, best save it and sell it on later. Keep it quiet, mind, but the locals are desperate for fags so you’ll get a good rate for them.’
‘The people here are luckier than most,’ murmured Eva. ‘So many cities have been devastated. I saw such terrible destruction on my way here – people begging, digging through rubble, desperate for anything we could spare. And I know we’re not supposed to give the Germans anything, but we’re getting more than enough to eat, so surely it wouldn’t hurt to share some of the rations coming in now?’
‘Nasty business, war,’ muttered Jimmy, wafting his smoke away from them and taking off his cap to wipe his brow with a crumpled grubby handkerchief. ‘But you’ll be in trouble if you try to help them. One of the chaps said their German cook was caught taking home scraps of food from the barracks and now he’s been sent to prison. He was only doing it to feed his family.’
‘But do you honestly think all the Germans are guilty? You can’t blame everyone, surely?’
‘You’ll soon see for yourself. They can all say, oh, I wasn’t that sort of a Nazi, as much as they like, but I can’t believe they didn’t really know what was going on in the concentration camps.’
After another five minutes, Eva said, ‘How much longer will we have to wait around here?’ She peered inside the entrance to the building, but still couldn’t see anyone else coming. ‘I’d just like to settle down to some proper work.’
‘Oh, you won’t be doing anything for a day or two, I bet. That new consignment’s only just come in. They won’t be ready for us yet.’ Jimmy ground the cigarette end under his heel, then strolled up and down, flexing his shoulders.
Eva watched him, trying to work out what he meant, then heard brisk steps marching down the hallway, accompanied by curt, clipped words, and out stepped a small, dapper man with a tidy moustache, wearing a sharply pressed uniform.
‘Right, line up. Let’s get this over with,’ he snapped, waving at the three of them with his swagger stick. The photographer who’d followed him fussed with his camera and waved his hands backwards and forwards to position the group till the Colonel spat, ‘Just take it, man. Take it as we are and have done with it.’ And then the camera clicked two or three times as he stood in front of the entrance doors, with his lesser colleagues arranged to his right.
So this was Robinson. This slightly built, brusque little man was the ‘terrier’ Tim had described. Eva tried to look at him while they all stood side by side, heads up, shoulders back, but the cameraman urged them to stay quite still and look straight ahead. She caught a glimpse of uncertain half-smiles on the faces of her two companions and thin, tightly pressed lips on the Colonel, who jerked his chin as if his starched collar was constricting his throat. And after the shutter had clicked, she heard him bark, ‘Right, as you were. Back to it, chaps.’ Then he marched back inside the building, the footsteps from his highly polished shoes echoing on the flagstones of the entrance hall.
‘We can relax now,’ Jimmy said, lighting another cigarette. ‘You can take your time if you want. There’s nothing much doing today.’
‘Why not? We should be getting on with the debriefings, shouldn’t we? Not hanging about, twiddling our thumbs.’
Jimmy shrugged. ‘You’ll be busy soon enough, once he gives the signal, don’t you worry. I tell you, if he had work for us, he wouldn’t be out here taking beauty shots. Once he gets going in there, he doesn’t stop.’
‘Bit of a taskmaster, is he?’
‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. It’s more that…’ He paused, as if trying to find the right words, ‘…once he’s picked up the scent, he follows it to the end. There’s no stopping him then.’
‘Am I right in thinking that was Colonel Robinson?’ Please let it be him. That’s the reason I’m here. I’ve come all this way, but I have to be sure.