Bombers’ Moon

‘Why not, who is to know? I thought you pilots were daredevils.’

The men talked among themselves, one or two argued, and then Aldo grinned. ‘All right, for your cheek and because your sister was so nice, I’ll risk it. Tom, you drive us to the field and see about refuelling, OK?’

I breathed out a huge sigh. I didn’t think I was going to get away with it. Every bump of the jeep threatened to break my waters. I’d seen enough birthing on the farm to know more or less what happened. I knew the mother ewe delivered the lamb sometimes alone in a field and if a dull sheep could do it so could I.

It was an ordeal climbing into the plane but, by lifting up my heavy belly, I succeeded, managing not to moan with the pain. Thankful, I sat down and closed my eyes. Incredibly, I must have dozed and then I woke up sharply to the rat-tat-tat of guns.

‘Gerry on my tail,’ Aldo said, ‘some cloud to the right, I’ll hide in there.’ Through his windscreen I saw nothing but grey fog and I knew we would be in trouble if he couldn’t get out of the clouds again, but at least the enemy plane had given up and gone away. That was until we slid out of the clouds and then the shooting, alarmingly close, began again.

I pressed my palms together and like a child recited the Lord’s Prayer in English and in Welsh. ‘Ein Tad, Our Father’—the words whispered out like molten silver between my lips. Aldo ducked and dived and turned the plane and fired his own guns. I saw the German plane begin to smoke and then it screeched down towards the sea. ‘Good shot!’ I said, then, ‘Diolch yn fawr’, as I looked up towards heaven.

‘What damn language are you speaking now?’ Aldo asked.

‘Welsh of course,’ I said huffily as if he should know. ‘By the way, you can drop me on the Welsh coast, Carmarthen, it will be nearer for you and there are plenty of fields to land in.’

‘Thank you, mam.’ Aldo’s tone was dry. ‘At least I made another kill on the way so it wasn’t entirely a wasted journey,’ he said.

The landing was scary but, following my directions, Aldo landed within about a mile of the farmhouse.

‘You didn’t bother to tell me about the hills,’ he said. ‘Now go before I’m taken for the enemy and arrested.’

I flung my bag out of the plane and dropped it to the ground. Then I had to drop myself because there were no steps. I landed with a bump and my bump protested by squirming frantically to get out of this uncomfortable belly.

‘Good luck, Meryl, and love to that sister of yours.’ Aldo winked, looking every inch the dashing pilot. I waved back in the rose dawn and watched him lift his plane into the sky with great skill and aplomb. And then I walked to the cold, empty farmhouse that still held the scent of Jessie and my darling Michael and prepared for the birth of my child. Alone.

Seventy-Two

Hari stood with James outside Island Farm Prison and looked at his face, dark with anger, in dismay. ‘How many of them have been caught?’

‘A few.’ He stared at her. ‘You seem very interested, sure you didn’t have anything to do with it all, Miss Jones?’

‘How could I?’ She stared at him aghast, she couldn’t lose his trust, not now, when she needed to know where Michael was. ‘I warned you they were talking about a tunnel didn’t I?’ she said defensively.

‘Aye, so you did Hari, I’m sorry, merchi, that was a daft idea of mine but you’re up at the camp so much, girl, I wonder what’s behind it all. I don’t flatter myself it’s my charm.’

Hari thought quickly. ‘But James, you know I’m writing a report about the prison—’ she paused—‘it’s all good, mind, you’ve treated the prisoners with every respect, you’ve looked after them very well indeed.’

He seemed mollified. ‘Aye, too bloody well, pardon my language, we were all so sure they wouldn’t run back to the war we got too easy with them.’

Hari kissed James’s cheek. ‘You’re a good pal, James,’ she said gently, ‘I’m sure they’ll all get caught, they can’t get out of the country, can they?’

‘I told you one of the blighters got all the way to Birmingham. They’re bringing him back as we speak.’

‘Oh, do you know his name?’

‘If I did I couldn’t tell you, miss.’ James’s voice was hard. ‘By the way, I didn’t have a good look at your papers, did I?’

‘It’s top secret, James, I work for the government.’

He looked dubious.

Hari sighed. ‘All I can say is I work at the munitions here in Bridgend but it’s special work. I used to work for Colonel Edwards until he died.’

James’s face cleared. ‘Everyone has heard of the old man,’ he said respectfully. ‘But why are you watching Island Farm Prison Camp? If it was because of me you’d go out with me.’

Hari hesitated. ‘There’s someone special here, someone who might not be the true German he seems to be.’

‘His name?’

‘If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.’ She imitated his tone and he smiled.

‘All right, Hari, I’ll believe you.’ He came a little closer. ‘But you do like me, just a bit, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do James, I wouldn’t spend so much time talking to you if I didn’t—I’d just march in here and get on with my job.’

He touched her hair. ‘So lovely, cariad.’

Hari smiled and after a moment moved away. ‘Look, James, I’d better get back to work.’

‘Euler,’ he said suddenly, ‘the man we caught at Birmingham, his name is Michael Euler.’

Hari’s heart lifted. ‘Is he unhurt?’

‘Aye, except for the injuries he got when he crashed, some leg wounds and minor burns, lucky bas—. Sorry, Hari.’

‘I can tell you this, James,’ Hari said, suddenly happy, ‘we’re going to win this war. I can’t tell you how I know but I do, all right?’

He grinned. ‘Come back tomorrow, I’ll see if you can interview this man Euler.’

‘Really, you can do that, James?’

‘I’ll do my best for you, Hari fach.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow then James and thanks for all your help, you certainly make my life easier.’

Hari rode home on the bus and then caught the train—missing Violet’s happy chatter. She was worried about Violet. Since she’d married George and moved out to Carmarthen she seemed more subdued, not her usual happy self and, when she visited Swansea, she looked around with nostalgia, clearly wishing she was back home.

‘Vi—’ Hari hugged her friend’s arm—‘if you don’t like the country, ask George to bring you back to town.’

‘We’ve moved into his mam’s home, that’s what I don’t like,’ Vi said, ‘but George is doing the house up, he hopes to sell the place and buy a house of our own.’ She brightened. ‘At least I’ve got a man I love—I’m better off than most girls—and we’ll make the move soon, I’m sure.’ But there was a glint of tears in her eyes and Hari promised herself she’d have a word with George as soon as the opportunity arose.

Seventy-Three

I’d managed to put up the black-out curtain and I lit the lamps, glad of the warm glow in the old farmhouse. Wincing with pain I lit the fire, I’d always been good at fires, and then I fetched some towels and spread them on the old, sagging sofa.

I wished Jessie was here; she’d be warm and comforting and would tell me what to do when my baby was born. I felt the pain of my contraction encircle my body and tried to squeeze the baby out, the way I’d seen the