seen a ghost.’ Her voice was a mere whisper.
Sixty-Three
‘Eva suspected me, father-in-law,’ I said. ‘She must have looked in my desk, found my tin box before I…’ My words trailed away, I could see he didn’t understand. I almost bit my tongue. I couldn’t tell this honourable German officer that I was betraying his country, sending coded messages to Britain on my radio.
‘I had secret papers in the tin,’ I said hastily. ‘They revealed that I was born in Wales not Ireland.’
‘Indeed? That was careless of you. And what about my son, were there secrets about him also?’
‘No, nothing about Michael,’ I said with conviction, ‘there was nothing to involve Michael in anything.’ It was the truth. ‘I think Eva searched my desk at some time.’
Herr Euler was leaning on the table, his brow furrowed. ‘Then we must get you out of the country,’ he said at last, his head rising from the palm of his hand. Now his eyes met mine. He looked so much like Michael that my heart lurched. ‘I will arrange it.’
I knew better than to ask him how. My father-in-law could be very kind but he was a formidable officer and it would pay me to remember that.
‘You are past the three-month danger period with the child?’
‘Yes, Father-in-law.’ I was almost five months gone but I was still slim, my muscles, hardened by cycling, held my stomach like a girdle.
‘Good, then you will be able to walk, to hide, to run if necessary, though I hope that will not be necessary. I will make your departure from Germany as comfortable as possible, trust me.’
‘I do, Herr Euler.’ I meant it.
‘At least I will have a grandson even if I have lost a son.’ He patted my arm. ‘After the war I will see you both and we will toast the new Herr Euler together.’
‘It could be a girl,’ I pointed out. He shook his head and tapped his finger to his nose.
‘I know it is a boy.’ He smiled his charming smile and I wondered how Jessie could ever have left him behind in Germany and gone home to Wales. He answered my unspoken question.
‘I was a young buck at Michael’s age,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘like most men I was eager for experience. I never realized what a good wife I had by my own fireside until she packed her case and left me.’
I made a wry face and he smiled again. ‘Michael is not like me, he is a faithful man, he loves you daughter- in-law. He would never stray.’ He sighed. ‘Now he is dead no woman will have him.’
We stood and looked at each other for a long, silent moment. ‘But you will have something no one else can ever have; you have his son growing inside your young belly. Take him back to the farmlands my little girl, bring him up to be a good Welshman but also to remember his German forefathers, promise me.’
Tears stung on my lashes, my lips trembled. ‘I promise but you will see him, you will hold him in your arms, one day, when all this silly war is over.’
‘I hope and pray so. Now I must go and set the wheels in motion. You put together a few things, only what is necessary, we will begin the journey to the Belgian border tonight.’
He went and I was alone in the farmhouse. I made some tea, the silence pressing round me. I wondered through the long lonely hours if the SS would come and find me. I felt sure that Eva, my once dear friend, would think it her duty to tell the guards where I was. If Herr Euler didn’t move quickly I would be back in Ravensbruck and this time there would be no mercy for me.
We were on the move before it was light in the morning. The fields around the farmhouse were dark, the trees made forbidding shapes and behind every one was a trooper waiting to shoot me.
Even though ‘Overlord’ had been a success there was still trouble, the Allies couldn’t penetrate into the German territory itself and I wondered how my father-in-law could take time off from the war to see me safely on my way out of the country. But he was there beside me in the staff car driving the vehicle himself, big and reassuring, my dear Michael’s father.
I put my hand over his on the steering wheel and he smiled briefly but his jaw was tense. And then, for the first time, I realized that Herr Euler was putting himself in danger by trying to save me.
‘Father-in-law,’ I said softly, ‘go back to your post, you will be missed, your fellow officers will think you’ve deserted them.’
‘I will go back when you are safely over the border,’ he said, his tone brooking no more argument.
‘We came to a checkpoint and Herr Euler waved away the guards impatiently. ‘Let me through, I am on urgent business for the Beloved Leader,’ he commanded. At once the barrier was lifted, the men saluted him, and I knew my father-in-law was a very important man, highly respected, and he was risking everything for me. Shame rushed through me, I felt my face burn. I had been betraying this dear man and all he stood for to those he regarded as his enemy, the British.
We drove for hours before we stopped for a rest. In the end I had to beg Herr Euler to let me out of the car; I needed badly to pee, one of the pitfalls of pregnancy I’d learned.
He opened a flask and we drank hot, sweet coffee without the benefit of a cup, but it was the best drink of coffee I’d had in a long time. I was hungry but now my main bodily needs were satisfied I felt ready to go on. I slid into the car and leaned my head, for a moment, on my father-in-law’s shoulder.
‘Thank you Father,’ I said softly.
Sixty-Four
Hari sat in her bedroom, the only place in the full house she could be alone, and thought of yesterday’s events. Now she doubted the evidence of her own eyes, she thought she’d seen Michael but she couldn’t have seen Michael; he’d crashed his plane into a Welsh field—ploughed it into the rich earth; No pilot could survive such a crash and yet… and yet.
She heard the siren cut into the night; she heard the scramble from downstairs as Jessie, Father and Georgie, who was home on leave, made for the shelter. Violet was out somewhere, she’d long ago found a little flat she shared with several of the girls from the munitions.
‘Come on Hari, get to the shelter, there’s a good girl. ‘Jessie’s voice rang up the stairs, anxious and with a touch of panic in it.
‘I’ll be there in a minute, I want to make some tea; you lot go on ahead of me, keep me a decent place to sit.’
The door slammed and Hari wondered about the folk who kept the door open all day, leaving the house open to anyone; perhaps they felt that in a raid it was best in order to secure the property—as though the bombs would make a polite entry into the place through the door instead of plunging, screaming as though in agony through the walls and roof, blowing everything, including the door, to tiny pieces of meaningless rubble.
Unhurried, she went downstairs and made a canteen of tea, spooning some glutinous tinned milk into a screw of greaseproof paper. Then she cut some bread and cheese and wrapped them carefully, putting them neatly into an old biscuit tin.
She heard bombs crash around the house, the street outside, heard the voices of the Home Guard as the men, too old for war, rushed about bravely doing the work of putting out fires, saving those they could save and commiserating over those they couldn’t. She didn’t hurry, by now she knew that death was arbitrary, if your name was on the bomb or the bullet you would die wherever you were.
At last, she stepped out into the street in the same manner as if she was slipping out to the shop for bread or potatoes. No use looking back, trying to preserve memories. In any case, foremost in her mind was the face of Michael, or the man she thought was Michael, marching, German-fashion down the street in Bridgend, on his way back to the Island Farm prison camp.
‘Thank God you’ve come at last.’ Jessie sat in the dimness of the shelter hugging her. ‘
