“It’s our papa. Our papa!” cried Greta.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Friedrich Smith with a little bow.
“Pleased to meet you too,” said Edie. And in that moment, she knew that everything would be different at Three Chimneys from now on.
Chapter Twenty-two
Beginnings and Ends
Edie was right.
After Friedrich Smith’s arrival, things were never quite the same at Three Chimneys again. Greta and Gus were keen to spend time with their father, of course, and so the children no longer ran around together all day with nothing else to do but milk Mr Hitler or feed the Twiglets.
Aunt Roberta and Uncle Peter invited Friedrich to stay for as long as he needed to. He and Uncle Peter sat up late into the night talking in a mixture of German and English and soon became the very best of friends.
Perky still called when he had time off from the post office and he really did take Edie and Gus to see the old signal box one afternoon. Greta said she’d rather stay home and build a chicken coop with her papa – she’d had quite enough of being a secret agent for a while.
“We’ve nobody to spy on now, anyway,” said Edie as the older children all scrambled along the edge of the railway line. “The Snigsons are innocent.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as that,” said Perky. “I’d bet my breakfast they’re still smuggling black-market sausages and barrels of beer when they get the chance.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Edie. “But now I’ve seen what so-called respectable men like Colonel Crowther can do, I’m not sure it’s really so terrible.” She knew the Snigsons weren’t good men, but they weren’t bad either – not when it had really mattered.
“Len says we’re welcome to come down to the station and watch the trains any time we like. He’s even going to arrange for us to have a ride with the driver all the way to Stacklepoole if he can,” said Gus.
“Can’t say fairer than that.” Perky nodded as if offering a ride on a train could cleanse even the most villainous soul.
“You boys would have tea with Hitler himself if you thought he’d let you drive an engine,” laughed Edie.
Gus looked a little hurt, but Perky knew she was joking. “Only if there was cake as well,” he said cheekily. Then he pointed along the line to the disused signal box. “Here she is.”
The hut was small and cramped inside – and not nearly as good an HQ as the old dining car. But Edie had to admit it was fun to shift the dusty metal arms back and forward, pretending to control the fate of a hundred speeding trains.
“Here comes the Flying Scotsman,” she bellowed, pulling on a disconnected lever and waving the imaginary locomotive through. “Send our love to the Highlands!”
It was like old times as they played for an hour or two and then headed back along the line.
“Did you hear about Colonel Crowther’s house?” said Perky as they ambled home. “He had everyone fooled with his fancy car and neat garden, but he’d gambled so much money away at cards, there was barely a stick of furniture left inside. There was just an old army trunk stuffed full of secret leaflets supporting Hitler. There were pages and pages of the filthy stuff, all about driving out Jewish people and gypsies and only allowing folk who have white skin and were born in Britain to stay here.”
Edie shuddered. Colonel Crowther had seemed so kind and gentle when they first met him – so honourable – when in fact he was rotten to the core. “Thank goodness he was stopped,” she said. “After all, I think that’s what we’re fighting for, don’t you?” It got lost sometimes in all the moaning about rationing and the hissing about hating their enemies but, in the end, this war had to be about defending a way of life that was decent and tolerant somehow. If not, what was the point in so many men and women risking their lives?
Her thoughts drifted at once to Fliss, as they had so often since Gus and Greta had got their papa back. She kicked an old fir cone along the edge of the track, hating the feeling that bubbled up inside her. She knew what it was. She was jealous. She hated herself for feeling that way, but she couldn’t help it. She longed more than ever to see Fliss, but there had been no word for weeks.
Perky headed back towards the village and, as they climbed over the fence into the meadow at Three Chimneys, Gus ran towards the big oak tree where his father was playing leapfrog with Greta.
“Join us!” called Friedrich, as the little family squealed with laughter.
“Sorry!” Edie waved and kept running towards the house. “I’ve got something to do,” she called.
It was a fib, but she didn’t want to be in the way.
As she bolted through the door, she found Uncle Peter and Aunt Roberta sitting in the kitchen. A man on the wireless was talking about the bombing of a German city by British planes. He might have been reporting a cricket match, he sounded so calm.
Edie couldn’t bear it. There’d be children there, just like her and Greta or Gus and Perky… She remembered all the terrible things she had seen in London… The silver Cinderella shoe lying in the rubble of the Café de Paris.
“It’s all such a waste! Such a stupid waste,” she cried, and she ran upstairs and threw herself down on the bed.
She had only been there a moment, when she heard a quiet knock at the half-open door.
“Can I come in?” said Aunt Roberta, poking her head into the room.
“If you like,” said Edie, but she stayed lying face down in her pillow.
Aunt Roberta gently touched her shoulder then perched
