Oslo Spies: Phyllis Bowden Book 2 Page 6

  “This is some view.”

  Joe’s gaze took in the rooftops and side streets of the city, but lingered on the body of water beyond with surrounding snowy mountains. Fishing boats made their way to the docks in the fjord and he watched fishermen bringing in the day’s catch. Happy voices floated up to them through the moist air.

  “I take that back. It’s not just some view, it’s majestic.” Joe turned to see Phyllis watching him. He smiled at her. “So?”

  “I like the view very much, but it’s not the scenery that’s so great. It’s the good-looking young man with deep dimples who has captivated me this evening.”

  “I have deep dimples?” he joked. Joe set his glass on a small table and sat down beside her. “Tell me more.”

  Phyllis smoothed his thick hair, ruffled in the evening breeze. “You know you’re a handsome man, Joe Schneider.”

  “So you only love me for my looks?”

  “No, I love you because you’re you, but I still don’t know much of your background. You were filling me in when I had to leave London. Please fill in a few more blanks for me.”

  “Sure, sweetie. Anything you want to know.” He clasped her hand, pressed his lips to it. “You know I’m from Manchester. Do you know where that is?”

  “It’s north of London.”

  “Over two hundred kilometers actually, a good three hours by train.” He kissed her palm. “I’ve told you a bit about my childhood.”

  “You mentioned your father was a police officer.”

  “Aye, my dad was a copper for sure.” Joe shook his head. “He was a gruff old duff who had bugger.”

  Phyllis bit back a smirk. “Wait a minute, limey. You’re retreating into slang and I’m not able to follow.”

  He laughed and tugged her closer. “I meant that my parents had grown up poor and had nothing.”

  “Until your dad became a policeman.”

  “He was a first-rate bobby and I wanted to be just like him.”

  “You were a cop before joining MI5?”

  Joe nodded. “Actually I was recruited for MI5 in a procedure I can’t talk about. Well,” he grinned, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you and I don’t want to do that.”

  She placed a solid kiss on his smiling mouth. “I don’t want that either, so maybe we should skip that part and hit the highlights.”

  His hand slid around her neck to keep her lips close to his. “Maybe we could even skip the highlights for now. Your bed looks very comfy, as you Americans say.”

  “But Joe, I’m interested in…”

  Joe placed soft kisses on her cheek, nose and the base of her throat. When a contented sigh escaped, he kissed her waiting lips. “I will tell you all, Miss Nosy Parker, but not tonight. I’m dying for you, sweet girl. Please take me to bed.”

  The loving look on his face pushed her to a quick decision. The scenery, the history lesson and anything else could wait until they had drunk their fill of one another. She knew it would take a while and smiled. Phyllis stood and took his hand.

  “It’s this way. I know we’ve been here before, but I’m a little nervous, Joe.”

  “Hey.” He lifted her chin so her eyes met his. “Want me to sleep on the couch?”

  “I just said I was nervous. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to sleep with you.”

  He laughed and tugged her closer. “So we’ll be sleeping?”

  “Eventually.”

  With smiling faces, they zigzagged down the hallway in a tangle of arms and legs like crazy dancers tripping on the dance steps. Once in the bedroom and clothes began falling to the floor, Phyllis gently pushed Joe on the bed and arched an eyebrow at him before turning off the light.

  Silky sounds of skin sliding on skin filled the darkness as the lovers rediscovered the intimacy only they shared.

  Morning would be the sweeter for it.

  NINE

  By midmorning, Phyllis and Joe had dressed, had breakfast and were on a walk around downtown Oslo. She was eager to show him the new businesses that had sprung up, practically overnight it seemed, and how war-devastated Oslo was making a Herculean effort to pull itself out of the black hole which the Germans had dug.

  “All these shops were closed when I got here.” Phyllis pointed. “Several of them were Jewish and had writing on the windows. Jay and I were appalled.”

  “What’s Jay’s last name? Maybe I know her.”

  “You probably do. She’s in British diplomacy and you seem to know everyone in London.” Phyllis pushed curly hair behind her ear as they walked along. “Her name is Jay Lawlor.”

  “Sure, I’ve met her at embassy parties. Seems like a good sort. She’s probably in military intelligence too.” Joe shot a quick look in Phyllis’ direction.

  “I gathered that. It’s not hard to tell us intelligence types, is it?”

  Joe chuckled, threaded his fingers in hers. “It is for the uninitiated. You mentioned Lawrence is sending you for more training?”

  “I shouldn’t have told you that.” Phyllis blushed. “You caught me at a weak moment.”

  He laughed. “I believe it was between rounds one and two.” Joe kissed her cheek. “Never underestimate the power of sex.”

  She lightly punched his arm. “You’re a bad influence, Joe Schneider. What’s your middle name, by the way?”

  “I’m Joseph Michael Schneider, thirty-two years of age, born and bred in the UK. My parents, Michael and Mary Schneider of Manchester, England, are alive and well and very happy the war is over.”

  “Siblings?”

  “Only child, I’m afraid.”

  “So that means your parents spoiled you rotten.”

  “Hardly. How about you?”

  “How about me?”

  “Family?”

  “You mean you don’t know?”

  Joe blushed this time. “Okay, so I did a teensy background check on you.”

  Phyllis stopped abruptly, folded her arms across her chest. A couple walking behind veered around them and shot them curious looks as they walked by.

  “What?” Joe looked into her cross face. “You know what I do for a profession. It’s my job to check people out.”

  “So I’m just ‘people’ to you?” Her toe impatiently tapped on the sidewalk.

  A nearby shopkeeper came out to sweep in front of his store. Joe took Phyllis’ arm to move her away.

  “Be mad at me if you must, sweetie, but do it quietly.” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned her head away. “And you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you know that.”

  Her toe began tapping again. Suddenly, the tapping stopped. A knowing look filled her face.

  “You’re working, aren’t you?” When he didn’t respond, she tried again. “Joe, are you active?”

  Again he took her elbow to move them farther down the sidewalk. “Phyllis, I…”

  Tears pooled quickly. “I thought you came here to see me, but you’re working. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  They rounded a corner and Joe hurried them toward her apartment building. When they entered the lobby, Joe tried to pull her into his arms. She pushed him away and turned her back to him. When he moved behind her as close as she would allow, he spoke softly in her ear.

  “Phyllis? Please listen to me.” She stiffened. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you turn around to face me?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to say this to your pretty face, not your back.”

  She snorted. “My back isn’t pretty?”

  Joe bit back a smile. “Of course it is, honey.”

  Slowly Phyllis turned around. A hand reached out to caress his face before she could stop it. Joe grabbed her hand and kissed it lightly.

  “Well?”

  “I’m not working, Phyllis,” he said finally.

  She waited. “That’s not the whole story.”

  His eyebrows curved. “You know me too well.”

  “All evidence to the contrary.”

  “…All right. The truth is that I’m not working now, but I will be when I leave here. I have a job in Bucharest.”

  “Romania? Why?”

  He shook his head. “The only thing I can say is I have a couple of things to check out. The Communists have moved in and my sources could dry up if I don’t act quickly.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re going to infiltrate the Communists in Bucharest?”

  “You know I can’t say any more. I probably said too much, but I wanted you to know that I’m here now for you. Only for you, sweetheart.” He kissed her scowling mouth. “Please believe me and let’s enjoy the time we have together.”

  Exactly what she had been telling herself before Joe got here.

  She softened and moved into his arms. “Sorry. I should know better, but now I’ll be worried.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Which is why I didn’t want to say anything.”

  They stayed close together until Phyllis heard, “Miss Bowden? A word please?” from a clear Norwegian voice. She broke away from Joe to look across the lobby.

  “Mrs. Lind? Yes, I…”

  “Alone please.”

  Joe and Phyllis exchanged what-now glances.

  “This is Mr. Schneider,” she began. Mrs. Lind waved her hand impatiently.

  “Yes, yes.”

  “I’ll wait upstairs, Phyllis,” said Joe.

  She nodded. “I’ll be up in a minute.” She handed him the key and watched him mount the stairs. When Joe was out of sight, Phyllis walked briskly toward her irritated landlady.

  “Yes, Mrs. Lind?”

  Mrs. Lind stiffened regally like a peacock about to strut. She smoothed her long skirt before returning to her ironing board posture. Her
chin jutted out and her eyes spoke the question.

  “Who iz that man?”

  “He’s Joe Schneider from England and he…”

  “He’s staying with du?”

  “Yes, I…”

  She shook her head so hard her frizzy gray hair flew about her face. “No. This iz decent place.”

  “But Mrs. Lind, he and I are…”

  “Engasjert?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Engasjert.” The older woman’s hand flew up in the air as she searched for the word. “Ekteskap. Um…bryllup.” At Phyllis’ blank look, she began pacing.

  “Wait a minute.” Phyllis dug a small Norwegian dictionary out of her purse. Mrs. Lind rushed back to grab it out her hands. She quickly skimmed a few pages and excitedly pointed to something.

  “Engasjert! Here. See?”

  Confused, Phyllis followed Mrs. Lind’s finger to a Norwegian word and its English translation. Her eyes widened with understanding.

  “Oh! Engaged. You think we are engaged?”

  “Ja! You and the man are…engaged!”

  Phyllis backed up a step. With the look on Mrs. Lind’s face, she understood the situation at once: if she wanted Joe to stay with her, they had to be engaged to be married. Phyllis bit back a groan. Glancing down at the gold chain and locket around her neck, she made up her mind.

  “Yes! We are engaged.” She fingered the locket. “Mr. Schneider gave me this for an engagement present.”

  Mrs. Lind’s face puckered like she had bitten into a lemon as she glared at the necklace. “He give du this?”

  Phyllis swallowed and nodded, hoping her white lie would go down as easily. “Yes. Isn’t it pretty?”

  “Iz funny gift for engasjert.”

  She shrugged, glanced at the locket. “It just happened yesterday, so we’ve yet to buy a ring.”

  That seemed to mollify the stiff Norwegian woman—for the moment.

  “All right?”

  The old woman’s face slowly smoothed and a small smile crept out. “Iz all right.” She reached out to hug Phyllis. “Gratulerer, Miss Bowden.” She stepped back. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Phyllis smiled. “Tusen takk.”

  Phyllis climbed the four flights up to her apartment. Joe was waiting for her at the doorway.

  “Am I bunking at Army Headquarters tonight?”

  Phyllis sighed heavily, pushed past him to pour a glass of wine in the kitchen.

  “That bad? Is she kicking me out of the country?”

  After swallowing a huge gulp, Phyllis looked him in the eye. “No, but congratulations are in order.”

  He chuckled. “Congratulations?”

  “Yes.”

  “For what?” Phyllis downed the rest of her wine. Joe took the glass out of her hand and set it on the counter. “Tell me.”

  She blew out a breath. “We’re engaged to be married.”

  Joe’s reaction wasn’t exactly what she expected.

  After a stunned silence, an exuberant smile stretched across Joe Schneider’s happy face. He looked positively lit up. His shoulders moved back and he seemed taller somehow. With sparkling brown eyes and a twitch of his lips, Joe took a step closer.

  “I should buy you a ring in that case.”

  “Joe, don’t be ridiculous. I told her a little white lie so you could stay here with me. That’s all.”

  He moved closer still. His warm breath teased her lips. “Does it have to be a lie?” he murmured.

  She blinked wide eyes. Phyllis placed her hands on his chest. “What are you saying?”

  He gazed at her adoringly. “I’m saying something I wished I could have said in London, but it wasn’t the right time. You had to go. I understand that and I wanted this opportunity in Oslo for you as much as you did, but now…”

  “…Now what?”

  “I’m asking you to marry me, Phyllis Bowden. Will you be my wife?”

  Phyllis was dumbfounded as he dropped to one knee and took her hand.

  “I have money saved and a flat in London. I know my job involves travel, but I truly believe we can work out the job problems to concentrate on being together. So what do you say, sweetheart?”

  When Phyllis continued to stare at him, he gently kissed her hand.

  “I…I’m speechless, Joe.”

  His happiness wavered, a look of confusion swept his face. “That’s all you can say?”

  “I wasn’t serious with Mrs. Lind and I certainly didn’t say that to goad you into really proposing.”

  “I know that. Phyllis…” Joe rose, took her hand to walk her into the living room. Once they were settled on the couch staring at one another, he continued. “I’ve known you were the one for me since we first met. Aren’t I the one for you?”

  Her resolve melted like an iceberg on a sweltering day. She’d known he was the one for some time now, but there was always a war between them. Now the war was over. Phyllis’ shy grin brought out Joe’s. They grinned playfully at one another.

  “That’s what I thought, sweetie. You love me.”

  “I certainly do love you, Joe. I love you more than I can say, but…”

  “No buts, Phyllis. We can figure this out.”

  She laughed. “You’re always saying that.”

  “Because it’s always true.” He looked down at their joined hands. “I’ll repeat myself.” Joe’s gaze locked with hers. “Phyllis Bowden, will you marry me as soon as I get back from the Bucharest assignment? I promise to love you for the rest of our lives no matter where we live or what we do for our careers. I want to be with you. Forever.”

  Tears pricked her eyes and slowly slid down her warmed face. “Yes, Joe Schneider. I will marry you whenever it’s convenient for us both because that’s exactly what I want too. Mrs. Lind apparently read the signs better than we did.”

  In his arms, they sealed their love with a kiss and a promise for the future.

  Joe smiled, breaking their lips apart.

  “You’ve made me the happiest man in the universe, sweetie.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  “Maybe,” he winked, “we should ask Mrs. Lind where to buy you a proper ring.”

  “I can’t imagine Norway has luxuries like that right now. We might have to try Sweden.”

  “Or maybe you can fly back to London sometime soon to pick one out.”

  Later that night in bed, Phyllis and Joe whispered words of devotion and babbled about plans for their future until the wee hours of the morning.

  Another sweet morning.

  TEN

  Joe sat utterly still, but his eyes took in every nook and cranny of the scene around him. The dingy café was in a poor section of Bucharest. Few people strolled up the street and even the skinny waiter with the grease-stained vest and boozy breath made it plain he’d rather be elsewhere. Service was bad and Joe’s undrinkable coffee had cooled as quickly as it had come.

  Most of the city was in tatters after Allied bombing due to Romania’s association with Germany during the war. Only at the bitter end had the king of Romania managed a coup to take back the country and join the Allies to oust the Germans. But it cost the king dearly, one of the reasons Joe was sent to Bucharest, the other being discovered at the camp outside of Oslo.

  Joe squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe he couldn’t see yet another war-torn city, but the smells were the same. His nose caught the aroma of some kind of vague, unappetizing food, as well as gasoline, dust and grime. All the cities he had been in during and after the war needed a good scrubbing with gallons of disinfectant.

  He laid his fedora on the table. Shaking his head to rid his mind of unwelcome thoughts, Joe drifted to yesterday when he said goodbye to Phyllis at the train station. His smile was automatic. During the sweet visit, though only four days, they’d decided to marry. They had seen much of Oslo and her life there seemed productive. Discussing what a future without war might have in store for them, they couldn’t decide where they’d live.

  A life without war was hard for him to imagine. Maybe the guns had stopped, but a new coldness had descended between the various countries of the Allied Powers. Stalin, head of the Communist party in Russia, wanted to grab as much territory as he could and United States and England were having trouble putting the brakes on his aggressive ambitions. Joe’s work with MI5 had intensified instead of lessening.