plucked chickens, cut them into pieces, but it had been Jessie who’d actually done the killing on the farm in Carmarthen.
On the other hand I’d brought bread and cheese from one of the small shops near Hamburg; I could always make do. I stared out at the hens again and took a deep breath. I would have to do it sooner or later. Now, while I was alone, might be the best time. If I made a fool of myself I would be the only one to see it.
The hens took no notice of me as I tiptoed near them a sharp knife hidden up my sleeve. I picked out one hen, black-feathered, dainty claw raised like a dancer. ‘Sorry dear,’ I said in German, ‘it is your turn to die for your country.’
The damn thing understood me and started to run for its life. The other hens scattered, wary of me. They must have a language of their own and the obstructive black hen had warned them what I was about.
I chased the creature into the clump of bushes at the edge of the field and fell on it. The hen wriggled and clucked and I lifted its beak and thrust the knife in deep into its throat. Now I had to hang it up to drain it of blood. That’s what I’d seen Jessie do. She’d had the niceties of a shed and a bucket I had to make do with a branch of a tree and the bare earth.
The poor thing gave a strangled cough and dropped its head as though giving up. I stood back and was violently sick. I heard a soft thud from the other side of the bushes and I jumped as though the wrath of God had fallen on me. I was trembling.
After a moment, I peered through the bushes and saw a woman lying on the ground, a silk parachute tangled like a bridal dress around her.
I stood dazed, staring at her. At her side was a little brown case, her weekend undies I thought hysterically.
She started to mumble and I crept nearer. Her eyes were closed but her lips were moving.
Incredibly she was speaking Welsh. I knelt beside her and smoothed her forehead. Whatever hat she’d been wearing had been torn away, there were ties around her neck. ‘What are you doing in Germany saying “Jesus Christ” and asking what’s happened, in Welsh?’
She opened her eyes and stared at me and then, fearfully, looked round. She saw the dead chicken hanging from the tree dripping blood and tried to edge away from me. ‘Look—’ I still spoke in Welsh—‘I’m from Swansea, it’s all right I’m not going to hurt you. Can you stand? I’ll help you back to the farmhouse.’
‘The parachute, the case…’ She broke off uncertain how far to trust me.
‘I’ll hide them.’ I stuffed the silk tangle of the chute into the bracken and hid the case a little way off in some soft ground. It was heavy and my heart quickened as I guessed it was just what I needed: a radio.
‘
She was unhurt and after a moment she walked steadily at my side. A tall woman, strong-shouldered but with a sweet face and curling dark hair. She was silent as I let us both into the farmhouse, looking around as though she still didn’t trust me. I didn’t blame her. I’d be suspicious too of a woman who lived in a German farmhouse.
We drank some brandy, we both needed it and, gradually, she began to relax.
‘Do you live here alone?’ It was asked casually but it was really important to her safety, we both knew that.
‘At the moment.’
‘Go on.’ She spoke in English now and was very well spoken, cultured, well educated. Probably from a rich family, a spy, well trained and trying to interrogate me.
‘Nothing to go on about.’
‘Why are you here?’
‘Why are you here is more to the point.’
‘Sharp aren’t you?’
‘I have to be,’ I said. ‘I’m living in Germany.’
‘I want to know…’
‘What you want to know is irrelevant, I have nothing to say, I have no need to explain anything to you. Just be glad it was I who found you. We’ll eat now.’
It was too late to start on the chicken and I didn’t have the heart. I went out to get some eggs and the woman followed me, still suspicious.
‘What’s your name?’
She stared at me. ‘Mind your own business.’
I shrugged and picked some eggs from under the hens. They clucked disapprovingly as though knowing what I’d done to one of their own. The woman stood by and then followed me back to the farmhouse like a doppelganger and I almost felt afraid of her.
I made cheese omelettes and cut some fresh bread and all the time she didn’t take her eyes from my hands. ‘If I wanted to hurt you I could have done so when you were helpless on the ground,’ I snapped at her.
She nodded. ‘You’re right. I’m Rhiannon,’ she added reluctantly.
After that she relaxed a little and we ate in silence. I was hungry and ate three slices of bread as well as the egg and cheese. I was also very tired.
‘I’m going to bed,’ I said. ‘You can go in the spare room if you like.’
‘I’ll sleep down here.’ She was unfriendly again.
I shook my head and went upstairs and gladly crawled into bed. It took me a long time to sleep but eventually I drifted off. I was dreaming of Michael and of a proper wedding where I wore a flowing veil and he smiled down at me and my body grew warm with wanting.
The sound of a gunshot woke me. I ran from the bedroom, bare feet and nightgown flowing, to find Michael standing in the hallway arms raised. Rhiannon was holding a gun and by the look on her face she was not afraid to use it.
‘That was a warning shot.’ She spoke in impeccable German but it was slightly accented, though perhaps it was only my sharp ears that picked it up.
‘Stop it!’ I shouted, ‘he’s my husband.’
She lowered the gun and I sighed with relief. ‘You should have told me he’d be home.’
‘I wasn’t expecting Michael for a few days,’ I said defensively.
The door was barged open and Herr Euler stood there resplendent in his officer’s uniform. Outside I could hear the sound of German voices and a car’s engine revving.
Suddenly Rhiannon swung the gun in my direction. ‘
‘I’m not a traitor—’ She fired just as Michael kicked her shin. Her shot whizzed over my head.
Suddenly there was mayhem. Herr Euler had Rhiannon by the scruff of her neck and was pushing her out through the door. A few minutes later I heard a shot and I winced as I realized I would never see Rhiannon again.
Forty-Two
Herr Euler went to bed as calmly as if nothing had happened. Michael came in with me as his father expected him to do, after all in Herr Euler’s eyes we were a normal married couple.
I turned my back on Michael and he on me. I was shivering. I felt horrified by the events of the night and yet if I thought about it reasonably, Michael had saved my life and his father, well, his father was only doing his duty, he was shooting a spy who was trying to kill us all.
When I eventually slept, a nightmare dogged me. I could see the dead chicken bleeding and the blood was falling on Rhiannon’s pretty face. I must have cried out because, when I woke, Michael was holding me, shushing me, telling me everything was going to be all right. I started to cry, something I rarely did, and he held me and kissed my forehead and my eyes and then my lips.
I kissed him back, hotly, greedily, my fears gone, my senses dazed by his warmth, his nearness, his obvious
