sent the usual signals, giving information to airmen or the navy vessels off shore at Antwerp. Mundane tasks that made up my day.
When I arrived home at the farmhouse, there were cars everywhere and men in uniform digging in the shrubbery. I caught sight of Von Kestle and he came towards me, his huge booted feet covering the ground swiftly.
‘We have found evidence of the ground being tampered with,’ he said. ‘Somebody was there, digging.’
I put my hand to my mouth. ‘Oh my God!’
‘You know nothing of this?’
‘How could I? I have been at work in my Hamburg office all day,’ I said.
‘The signal that was picked up twenty-four hours ago was from here, on this farm.’
‘I told you,’ I said. ‘Herr Euler found a woman here, a spy, he dealt with her. Whatever she left behind has got nothing to do with the Euler family, I give you my word on it.’
After a moment the man nodded. ‘I understand. But we will have to keep observing this area, just in case.’
I wasn’t sure he believed me but without evidence there was nothing he could do. The soldiers went away and I drank some tea, telling myself I wasn’t cut out to be a spy. I didn’t like taking risks but there were certain things that had to be done for the sake of my country.
I went to bed early and lay awake thinking of the biscuit tin in my drawer at the office and I knew I would have to find somewhere to hide it before the SS began looking at my life too closely.
Forty-Seven
Stephen took Kate’s hand as she felt her way through the gate of the park. ‘Come and sit down,’ he said gently.
They had sat there together before in very different circumstances. ‘I’m well Stephen,’ she said. ‘There’s no need to worry about me.’
‘And the baby?’
Kate was a long time answering. Her baby,
‘Kate?’
‘He’s not very well.’
‘I must come to see him.’
‘But Eddie.’
‘Damn Eddie!’ He gripped her hand tightly. ‘I’m the father, Kate, I have a right to see my little son.’
Kate hung her head. He was right of course and Eddie should understand, being a father himself. ‘All right.’
‘Come on, I’ll take you in the car.’ Stephen put a hand under her elbow and urged her to her feet.
‘We’ll walk,’ Kate said firmly, ‘the last thing I want is the neighbours talking about your big posh car stopping outside our house.’
It was a fine autumn day and Hilda had just hung sheets on the line in the back garden. Kate could hear the snap of the sheets in the wind. ‘Adam has been sick again,’ she said.
Kate’s heart sank. The baby, born three weeks too early, had been sickly from the start. ‘I hoped he was growing out of that by now.’ Kate was weary, there was so much to think about, to worry about, and now Stephen was making demands, complicating matters even more for her.
‘Can I pick him up?’ Kate heard him move the covers from Adam’s crib.
‘Carefully then,’ she said, ‘we don’t want him to be sick again, do we?’ The chair creaked and Kate knew that Stephen had seated himself with the little baby in his arms. Suddenly Kate felt very ill. She leaned back against her chair and tried not to think.
The door opened and she could smell the scent of her husband. She heard the pause as Eddie took in the scene.
‘Eddie.’ She tried to stand but then she was falling, falling into a deep well and, thankfully, she let herself fall.
She was in bed, in hospital. She recognized the sounds from when she’d been in before. The rustle of starched aprons, the slap, slap of soft-soled shoes on the floor and the all-pervading, unmistakable smell of cleaning fluid.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ Her voice was thin, weak.
‘It’s all right, dear.’ A cool hand touched her forehead. ‘You’ve had an operation, that’s all. You’re going to be just fine.’
‘An operation—what sort of operation?’
‘You’ve had a hysterectomy. Your abdomen had split open, scars broken down—there were complications— but you’ve come through it very well, you’ll be fit again in a few weeks.’ The hand was removed, the sound of feet dying away, and Kate struggled to come to terms with what she’d been told.
There had been a danger all along that her old scars would open when the baby was born but that hadn’t happened. Why now?
She heard footsteps approaching once more. Her arm was lifted and a sharp prick of a needle pierced her arm.
‘There, rest now, have a good sleep and when you wake your loved ones will be here to see you.’
‘Loved ones… am I going to die then?’
‘There was no answer, the nurse had gone away and Kate was left alone to wonder if she would live to rear her firstborn and her poor, sickly Adam.
Forty-Eight
Hari drew up outside the farmhouse and Jessie appeared in the doorway, her brow furrowed but a hopeful smile on her face.
‘Any news, Hari?’ Her tone was eager. ‘Come in,
‘I’ve heard from Meryl in a roundabout sort of way,’ Hari said. ‘A message over air waves, a bit of Welsh, my name.’ She could say nothing more; the rest of the message was secret and might not even be correct.
‘And Michael?’
‘I don’t know.’ Hari’s voice was low with misery. ‘I assume he’s alive or Meryl would have found a way to let me know. But, and it’s a big but, he’s either in prison or on active service for the Germans.’
Jessie sighed heavily. ‘His father would have influence. I’m sure he’ll look after Michael. I’ll make us a cup of tea.’
Jessie’s answer to every crisis was a cup of tea. She was very affected by her son’s disappearance, her footsteps faltering as she made her way to the kitchen.
Hari followed her. The kitchen was in a terrible state and Hari took off her coat and washed the accumulation of dishes. Jessie made a faint protest but there was a look of relief on her face as Hari brushed up the debris on the kitchen floor.
Hari was silent for a long time but as she put away the brush she looked at Jessie.
‘I need your help,’ she said.
Jessie’s face brightened. ‘Anything girl, you’ve been so good to me since… well, you know.’
‘I want you to come and stay for a few weeks,’ she said. ‘Father is home for a break, he’ll be all alone while I’m at work and he’s not very good on his one leg.’
