Rosie Raja: Mission to Cairo

By Sufiya Ahmed

Book Band: Dark Red (ideal for ages 10+)

'A vivid and gripping, superbly told historical adventure' - Sophie Anderson, author of The House with Chicken Legs and The Girl Who Speaks Bear on Rosie Raja: Churchill's Spy

It is the autumn of 1941, and Rosie Raja is back for another action-packed and electrifying adventure. After successfully helping her spy father complete his mission in France, Rosie has gained quite a reputation for herself and is determined to continue her secret agent escapades.

This time around, Rosie finds herself undercover in the magnificent and scorching city of Cairo, officially to make sure Egypt's amazing historical artefacts are kept safe from the Nazis... but really to root out a traitor in the British ranks. With the stakes higher than they've ever been, can Rosie and her father keep each other safe?

A thrilling and empowering coming-of-age WWII adventure set in the dazzling city of Cairo which follows an engaging, determined, Muslim heroine called Rosina Raja. Perfect for fans of Michael Morpurgo and Emma Carroll, and those looking for diverse historical fiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Jun 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781801990110

Sufiya Ahmed

Sufiya Ahmed worked in advertising and in the House of Commons before becoming a full-time author. In 2010 she set up the BIBI Foundation, which arranges visits to the Houses of Parliament for children from underprivileged backgrounds. Sufiya has written several children's books including My Story: Noor-Un-Nissa Inayat Khan, Secrets of the Henna Girl and Under the Great Plum Tree which was longlisted for the UK Literacy Association Book Awards.

Book preview

Content

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty-one

Chapter twenty-two

Chapter twenty-three

Chapter twenty-four

Chapter twenty-five

Chapter twenty-six

Chapter twenty-seven

Author’s Note

By the Same Author

Churchill’s Spy: Chapter one

Chapter one

September 1941

The woman’s teeth are pearly white.

I stare up at the smiling face on the poster high above me. In another time, before the war, the model would be advertising toothpaste or face cream, but not in the autumn of 1941. Today, she is inviting ordinary women to join her organisation as she poses in front of a fighter plane.

COME AND JOIN THE WAAF are the words printed in bold letters above her head.

Papa and I have made the journey from London to the WAAF training school in Harrogate, Yorkshire. After driving for several hours, he parks his car outside the grounds and I am glad to stretch my legs. The poster is the first thing I notice.

WAAF stands for Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. It’s the supporting organisation for the Royal Air Force where our pilots are fighting Adolf Hitler’s Nazis in the sky, Papa explains, when he sees me looking at it.

Papa and I are here to meet an old friend of his. One who can share with him the details of his next mission. My papa, Captain Camberwell, is one of Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s Special Operations Executive spies. SOE spies are sent around the world to subvert and sabotage the Nazis’ plans.

We walk through the gates just as a line of seven women jog past. I turn to stare after them. Seeing their short-sleeved T-shirts makes me shiver and I pull my scarf tightly around my neck. This year the English weather changed as soon as August ended. I found the drop in temperature a little difficult to deal with. I have only ever known the hot sun of India where I was raised. Granted it was a little cool when Papa brought me to England in the spring, but then I was locked away with my governess and a warm fire in Camberwell House, our family home, so I did not really notice it.

Must they do physical training here too? I ask. On top of learning how to use Morse code?

Physical exercise is part of the training … Papa pauses as he gives way to four women dressed in the navy-blue WAAF uniform, who walk briskly past, clutching folders in their arms.

Look at how these women are working together, he says. Sharing friendship and common interests. Wouldn’t you like to be with girls your own age?

I tense. Papa has been trying to persuade me to attend boarding school, so that he can go off on his next mission.

I’m not going to boarding school, I state calmly.

Papa pushes a hand through his hair. Be reasonable, Rosie.

I’m not going to a school filled with Miss Maryland types.

I am referring to my former governess, who Papa had to dismiss because she refused to listen when I told her she was teaching me things I already knew.

We’ll talk about it later, Papa says, making it clear that the subject isn’t closed. Now, how do we find Vera in this place?

Vera Atkins is part of the team that runs the Special Operations Executive. The Harrogate centre is a WAAF training school, not an SOE base, but Vera is here on another matter and she urgently needs to meet with Papa.

I was the one who answered the phone call from Vera, asking him to come and, when I heard, I begged Papa to allow me to accompany him. I had been cooped up in Camberwell House ever since we returned from a secret mission to Nazi-occupied France a few weeks ago. Well, apart from the few days in London where we met the prime minister at 10 Downing Street.

When Papa agreed, I was really excited about our trip. Until I realised he was going to use the time in the car to convince me to go to boarding school.

Ah, Captain! a voice calls from behind.

Papa and I turn to see a woman hurrying towards us.

Vera! Papa steps forward to kiss his friend’s cheek. It’s good to see you.

Thank you so much for coming, Vera says, sounding a little flustered. I realise it’s rather out of your way, but I had to come here to confirm something and now we really need to get on top of it all.

Papa takes Vera’s hand in his own and squeezes it. We will, we will, he reassures her.

Vera takes a deep breath, visibly calming herself and then turns to me. And how’s our young spy?

I can’t help blushing. My time spent with my father in Nazi-occupied France had earned me the title of ‘Churchill’s Spy’. I am very proud of this, and love that Vera remembers me. Vera is such an important figure in the world of secret agents.

Clearing my throat, I stand an inch taller. I am very well, thank you.

How’s Jean?

Vera is asking after the French boy who came back with us from France. He was part of the Maquis, the French Resistance, even though he is only eleven, like me. His name was betrayed to the Nazis, and they would have sent him to a prison camp if he was ever caught. Prime Minister Churchill himself told Jean that he could remain in England for as long as he wanted.

Jean is living with a family in Yorkshire, Papa says. It will give him some stability. He is one of the evacuee children they have taken in.

I am glad, Vera says. To think what the poor boy has been through, losing his parents so tragically.

He is safe now, Papa says. Orphaned children shouldn’t be used in wars as if they have no worth.

Vera nods her head in agreement. It’s hard when there’s no close family to look out for them.

I glance at Papa. Before he can move on to suggesting that boarding school would be a safe place for me, I decide to steer the conversation in another direction.

Have you heard from Leon?

Leon is Papa’s good friend in the Maquis. He too had been compromised and had to flee France with us. The last time I saw him was when we said goodbye outside Downing Street after meeting the prime minister.

He’s down in Hampshire at the SOE training centre, doing a great job teaching new agents about French ways, Vera says. We can’t have people exposing themselves as being English by making silly mistakes.

I think back to the poor English pilot whose plane crashed in the French countryside. He managed to survive the crash and even took some clothes off a washing line, so he could dress as a Frenchman to blend in. The slip-up he made was cycling on the wrong side of the road. That immediately gave away where he was from.

The other RAF pilot to survive our mission was Yasin. He also fled to England with us, after hiding in a barn for weeks. Now he is back in the air force, flying fighter planes.

Goodness, we’ve been standing here for ages, Vera says, turning towards the building. I’ve asked to use one of the offices. We’ll have some privacy there.

We walk briskly inside, turn left into a long corridor and down some stairs to the basement. Vera opens the door to a small, windowless room and waves us in. Three wooden chairs are the only furniture in there, and the whitewashed walls are bare except for a WAAF poster which takes centre stage.

I sit down on the chair opposite Vera. Papa prefers to stroll over to the wall to lean back against it. He places his hands in his trouser pockets and begins the secret conversation.

So, who is it you want me to meet?

Chapter two

Her name is Christine, Vera replies. You must have heard of her.

Papa blows a low whistle. "The Christine? The one they call ‘Churchill’s Favourite’?"

The very one, Vera says.

I glance between Vera and Papa. Who are they talking about? Churchill’s Favourite? Who is this Christine?

Is she as charismatic as they say? Papa asks.

She’s already broken a few hearts, Vera says with a slight laugh.

Papa raises his hands in the air. I’m just an admirer of her work.

Suddenly, a thought crashes over my head and I almost fall off my chair. Is Vera implying that Papa might be interested in this Christine woman? My mama is dead, which means Papa can look for another wife. If he does, where will that leave me? I’m not sure I am ready for a stepmother.

Rosie? Papa’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

Erm, I mumble.

Are you all right? Papa’s voice is concerned. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

I shake my head to both deny that there’s anything wrong and to clear my head of panicked thoughts. Papa gives me an odd, lingering look but then turns his attention back to Vera.

Is it true what they say about Christine? he asks.

Vera nods her head. Yes, all of it. Her real name is Krystyna Skarbek. She’s the daughter of a Polish count and she has a Jewish mother. She fled Poland when the Nazis invaded, managed to get here and sought to join an intelligence agency.

Which one?

Any one that would have her.

I thought women weren’t allowed in the field, Papa says.

Try telling her that, Vera says with a half-smile.

What’s she like as an agent? Papa wants to know.

Very tough, Vera says without hesitation. But also a bit of a loner.

Loner? Papa echoes.

She prefers to work on her own rather than in a team, Vera says in a matter-of-fact voice.

Papa nods thoughtfully. It’s understandable. Colleagues can pose a danger.

Which is why you are here, Vera says. There are far too many traitors and it’s becoming hard to work out who to trust sometimes.

I bite my lip. This war is complicated enough without having our own people working for the enemy. I want to know more about this woman that they speak of so admirably.

What did Christine do to earn everyone’s respect? I ask eagerly.

Well, she’s the bravest of the brave, Vera says. Earlier this year, she was caught by Nazi soldiers in Hungary and she actually convinced them to let her go.

How did she do that? Papa asks, leaning forward with interest.

She told them she had tuberculosis, Vera says.

I know what that is. It’s a highly infectious disease that can kill you.

And they believed her? Papa asks incredulously.

Vera laughs. She bit her lip until it bled and then pretended to cough blood. They sent her on her way before the blood had time to dry.

Ingenious, Papa says with a look of complete admiration.

The irritation rises in me like hot lava.

Is that all? I demand. Everyone thinks she’s amazing, because she managed to fool a couple of soldiers?

Papa and Vera stare at me. Their smiles have faded, to be replaced with incredulity.

Rosie, it’s not easy dealing with Nazi soldiers, especially if you’ve been caught, Papa reminds me. Do you not remember your own time in France?

I redden, ashamed. Yes, of course I remember. I was unlucky enough to ecounter Nazi soldiers twice back in Paris. Once when I was hiding a top-secret radio set in my shopping basket, and again on a train when the soldiers were searching for someone. They were the most terrifying experiences I’ve ever had.

I … uh … I stumble on my words.

Vera takes pity on me. Christine did something incredibly bold, she says. She also managed to get hold of a microfilm containing images of Nazi troops assembling to invade the Soviet Union.

I frown. I don’t understand.

The leader of the Soviet Union is Joseph Stalin, Papa states.

I know that! I say indignantly.

Well, let me explain, Papa says patiently. "Hitler made a deal with Stalin that he would not invade the Soviet Union if they stayed out of the war. The evidence Christine brought back from Poland showed