The London Reaction by J. G. Jenkinson

Author:J. G. Jenkinson [Jenkinson, J. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Vulpine Press
Published: 2023-03-27T16:00:00+00:00

He slammed his open palm on the cheap wooden table, but Olga did not flinch, she just stared directly ahead at the spot on the wall she was beginning to know better than her own face.

The room was cold and uninviting, the walls a painted brick that in parts revealed layers of different colours beneath, likely the whim of some Nazi psychologist who had decided which colour would be most conducive to interrogation. The British who now occupied it seemed less concerned with the decor than they were with completing the denazification process that would allow them to finally return home after six long years of war.

“If you would just admit what you are we can move on. We can get you processed and sort something out for your young companions.”

“I am not what you say I am. I am an British citizen. My father is Frank Felsen, Warrant Officer Class 1 in the Queen's Royal Regiment.”

“Yes, Olga, you’ve told us this and there’s no record of a W01 Frank Felsen in any regiment, arm, or branch of service, there’s no record of you, and your friends out there are most definitely German citizens.”

“I was born in Clapham on the first of June 1926, my address in twenty-four Load Lane and my mother is Nadine Felsen nee Lyn—”

“Yes, yes, okay, I have it all written down here. Tell me again how you came to be on the outskirts of Berlin on the twenty-seventh of April of this year.”

“I don’t remember, I told you that already too!”

The man lit a cigarette, closing his eyes as he inhaled, and he threw his head back to blow smoke at the ceiling of the grey, featureless interrogation room. When he had first introduced himself last week, he wore the collar dogs and mudguards of the British Army’s Intelligence Corps, along with the three gold pips denoting the rank of captain. Now his jacket hung, crumpled on the back of a chair and the sleeves of his uniform shirt were rolled up. His braces hung about his legs and he appeared to have aged in the short time she had known him.

“You understand my untenable situation here, Olga? As long as you claim British citizenship, we can’t simply ship you off to a camp, because if it turned out you are telling the truth there would be scandal,” implored the intelligence officer.

“So let me go home to England, to my mother and brothers,” Olga replied coolly.

“And what of these German children you claim responsibility for? Children who by all accounts pulled you out of the Havel last week. We are not keen on shipping them off either, not without possession of all the facts first.”

~

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