“Break in?” Rachel looked puzzled.
“Steal things from the house,” Sally explained. “I came back with Constable Halton. He tried to arrest Derek, who, in fairness, had broken a window trying to get in. He couldn’t find his key. It took a while to convince us he owned Rose Cottage. His father had died and left it to him in his Will.”
Rachel looked a little confused. Sally wasn’t sure how much she understood.
“It was his cottage and he wanted to see what it was like inside. He told me I had to agree to go to lunch with him to make up for thinking he was a criminal. We got engaged three months later and married three months after that.”
“He is a good-looking man. I see his photograph in your house, you are a lucky woman.”
“He is handsome, isn’t he? But Rachel, he is kind and has such a big heart. That is more important, don’t you think?”
Rachel wasn’t listening, she’d stopped walking and was staring into the distance.
“Heinz is there. In the field.” Rachel pointed to a group of boys up ahead of them. They were picking or planting something, it was too hard to tell from this angle.
They kept walking until the boys called out to Rachel. Heinz came running down to see her. He spoke rapidly to her in German.
Rachel answered in English. “Don’t be rude, Heinz. Sally came to see you today. She doesn’t understand German.”
To his credit, he apologized. In halting English, he asked her how his brother was.
“Tomas is wonderful. Such a clever young man and so good with his sister. Liesl is finding her feet but a joy to look after.” She couldn’t resist talking about Liesl even though he hadn’t asked about her. She spotted approval in Rachel’s eyes. Heinz muttered something, to which Rachel reacted by hitting him on his arm. It was a mere tap, really but Heinz flinched.
“Roll up your sleeve,” Sally demanded. When he hesitated, she glanced at Rachel who said something in German. He shook his head and went to move away but Sally stood in front of him.
“Pull up your sleeve now, or I will call the farmer.”
Heinz scowled but did as he was told. Rachel’s gasp mirrored her own feelings. Every patch of skin was covered in bruises, old and new.
“Is your whole body like this?”
Heinz refused to answer.
“I’m talking to you. Answer me,” Sally shouted, getting the attention of the two other boys. “Has someone been hitting all of you?”
Heinz glanced at the other boys, both of whom looked younger than he was, before he nodded.
Sally almost vomited. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“I’m not having it. That’s not any way to treat a child.” Sally marched off in the direction of the farmhouse. She called to Rachel to stay with Heinz until she got back. She’d seen the way he looked at Rachel. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her.
Chickens shrieked and fled from her path as she stormed toward the house. A couple of horses stared at her from their pen, but the pigs didn’t look up from their trough. She could smell the cows, the unpleasant tang of dung in the air but she couldn’t see them.
She didn’t want a witness when she caught up with Farmer Dalton and his wife. Rage surged through her as she marched into the farmyard and up to the back door. Knocking, she didn’t wait for a reply but stormed into the kitchen. The farmer jumped up from a table almost covered in plates of food. The smell of just-baked bread mingled with fried liver and onions.
“What on earth, woman! You’ve put the fear of God into the missus. Are the Germans chasing you?”
“Do you think that’s funny Mr. Dalton? As funny as leaving bruises all over those boys out there in that field of yours? You wouldn’t treat an animal the way you’ve treated them children.”
Dalton sat back down, picking up a slice of bread to mop up the gravy on his plate. He took a large bite, speaking with his mouth full, spraying her with bits of food as he spoke.
“Germans. Those boys are nearly grown-up. You stay out of it.”
“I won’t stand by and let you treat anyone like that, you miserable old windbag. And as for you Aggie Dalton, you should be ashamed of yourself. You heard what Reverend Collins asked for. A warm house, good decent food, and shelter, for victims of war. Victims, not enemy agents. And the two of you sitting in church, as if butter wouldn’t melt.”
Dalton stood up and growled. “Who the heck do you think you are, marching into my house and attacking my wife? Get out before I throw you out.”
“You can huff and puff as much as you like Dalton, but you’ll not lay a hand on me. My Derek would have you in a box before you knew what hit you.”
He took a step toward her, his hand slightly raised. Sally felt the first trickle of fear. What was she doing? She should have gone for the constable and the Reverend, not let her temper get the better of her and try and tackle this pair of bullies alone. She resisted the urge to flee, holding his gaze. His eyes narrowed.
“He isn’t here, though, is he? Takes a while to get back from France. Anything could happen.”
His words chilled her, more because he’d spoken in such a normal voice. She’d expected him to rant and roar, but this was more frightening. Seconds ticked by.
“Get out of my house and go home where you belong, while you still can.”
Sally’s heart hammered, thunder ringing in her ears. He wouldn’t hit her, would he? He knew she’d have the Reverend and the Constable back at the farm before he could sing God Save the King.
“Aunt Sally, are you fine?”
Sally’s heart beat faster at the
