For the Road
Für die Straße
The final piece of homework was to write on any top we desired. As mentioned in my Welcome Status, I like historic stories and chose a scenario in World War 2. This could potnetially be developed into something further….
The front door of the pub banged shut.
Shirley flicked her eyes subtly up to register the two gentlemen that had walked in, then back down to concentrate on the pint that she was pulling.
She was getting good at this; keeping one eye on the job and the other on every single customer who entered the building.
These two were the men she had been waiting for. Although their authorative German walk may have fooled the punters in the bar, they sure hadn’t fooled her. She had picked up on the slight fear that had flashed briefly in their eyes as they had scanned the bar; and the way their bodies had quickly relaxed upon sight of her.
As she handed the pint over the bar, she finally made full eye contact with them.
The first put his hand to his mouth as he coughed to clear his throat, “Guten Abend Fräulein”.
His German was clear, his accent authentic.
Shirley nodded, “Guten Abend,” she replied, before asking what she could get them to drink.
The second male pulled out a piece of paper from his breast pocket and put his glasses on, “Nicht für uns Dank,” he refused politely, before asking for the directions that were scribbled in front of him.
Shirley leaned over the bar in the provocative manner she had been trained in to get a closer look at the note. This was the cue, the test to see if her instincts were correct. As she scanned the address on the note, she set the bait by commenting in German that the address sure seemed to be some distance away.
The first male spoke again and asked if the best mode of transport would be by car.
Shirley followed his lead, testing further. Leaning closer, her doe eyes looking into his then back down to the paper, she responded in German ‘on a fine day, the fresh air and walk would do you good. However, if time is of the essence, a thirty minute walk would be advised to be replaced by that of a car.’
She had dropped the bomb. If they weren’t who she thought they were, this conversation would end quickly. She continued her sultry pose, waiting patiently for their answer.
The second male nodded and agreed that time was of the essence and would she be able to arrange a car for them.
Shirley placed her arm on his and purred that it would be no problem and would they like a drink whilst she made transport arrangements. The second male handed her the piece of paper and ordered two Brandys. As she placed them down in front of them, they both raised their glasses in thanks as one of them said, “für die Straße”.
For the Road.
That was the final keyword in this coded conversation and she immediately knew that her instinct had been correct and these were two British spies that she had been waiting for.
She disappeared to the rear of the pub and picked up the telephone. She dialled the number of the address scribbled on the paper and a women answered. Continuing to speak in German, Shirley gave out her passcode and announced the arrival of the two British Soldiers. Maggie, the girl on the other end of the phone, who was not only the receptionist at the hotel in which this address referred to, but was also Shirley’s friend and partner in crime, thanked Shirley for her call and said she would send a car down straight away to pick them up.
Shirley thanked Maggie then rung off. It pained her to do so, the urge to continue talking to her best friend in English and to have a good old chat to talk out how each other was getting on was overwhelming. She suddenly felt alone despite being in this together. Their friendship had to be put on hold in order to get the job done and to fool the outside German world into thinking they were nothing more than acquaintances who spoke on the phone to arrange transport to each other’s premises.
She turned to look in the hall mirror. She shook her head, pushed up her hair and applied another layer of warpaint, before retreating to the bar area.
The two men were drinking their brandy, casually propped up against the bar and conversing easily in German. No-one would ever suspect that they were British spies. Their German was too good, their body language was too confident.
She poured herself a brandy and raised her glass in their direction before announcing the final code words in German, “You’re transport has been arranged, gentlemen. Here’s one For the Road.”
Homework for the 6th July 2011