by Iris Gower
He winked at Michael. ‘You’re not a Jaffa then?’
I looked at Michael, frowning. ‘Seedless,’ he said, briefly looking embarrassed. I tried not to laugh. Suddenly I felt happy, every moment the ship was taking us away from danger, from the men who wanted to arrest Michael, perhaps charge him as a spy, shoot him even. If he had nothing to hide why didn’t he declare himself, that’s what they would say.
A sailor came from the front of the small ship. He was dripping with sea water. ‘I can see the lighthouse,’ he said eagerly, ‘we’ll soon be ashore.’ He grinned at me. ‘I was worried you’d give birth before land, I’m what passes for the ship’s doctor and I didn’t fancy the job of midwife.’
‘No danger of that,’ I said, ‘I’m not going to be relieved of this burden till I’m in Ireland.’ I took Michael’s hand and squeezed it and it was his turn to stifle a laugh.
There was a sudden clunk against the side of the ship and the sailors looked at each other in alarm. ‘Mines! Holy Hell!’
The object had jagged points poking out of it and was drifting away from us but not far enough. The sound of the blast was loud in my ears. Flames seared above my head. A great jagged hole appeared in the side of the boat and water, cold and rough, swept around my legs. I clutched my belly as if it was indeed a precious child. One of the sailors thought he understood. He was bleeding profusely from his chest, the blood running between his thick fingers.
‘Get your wife out of here!’ He gave Michael a push and Michael responded at once, leading me as quickly as he could towards the hole in the metal. The sea was coming in fast now and I knew the boat must sink soon. I looked at the vast expanse of water and fear made me feel sick. Gently now, I was pushed towards the jagged tear in the ship’s hull.
‘Get clear!’ the sailor instructed Michael, ‘get as far away from the ship as you can or else you’ll be tugged down by the wake.’ The sailor pushed my arms into a life jacket, his own I think. ‘The Holy Virgin go with you.’ And then I was in the cold, unfriendly sea.
‘Hold on to me,’ Michael ordered. I was a good swimmer but the utter hugeness of the sea terrified me and I put my arms around Michael’s waist and let his strong arms, bulging with muscles from his work on the farm, take us away from the doomed boat.
The bag under my skirts dragged at me and I thought of abandoning it but I could see two of the sailors bobbing around us. They were injured and floundering but there was nothing we could do to help them. Perhaps none of us would ever get out of this damn sea, we would drown and sink to the bottom to be eaten by the fishes. I began to kick against the heavy seas with all my strength.
‘There’s a beam of light ahead,’ Michael gasped, the water slopping around his mouth and nose so that he began to cough. ‘It’s a sub, it’s heading towards us, just hold on sweetheart, we’re going to be picked up.’
I tried to help Michael by treading water but soon I got tired and sank back on to the life jacket. It was a cumbersome thing and felt like sticks of wood but it was doing a good job of keeping my head above water.
The submarine still had water running down its slug-like sides as it came to a restless, uneasy stop some way away from us. Michael began to swim towards it, towing me like a sack behind him.
A man appeared, kneeling on the side of the huge shiny sub. He shouted some words and I felt every nerve in my body tense.
‘Let me do the talking,’ Michael said. ‘For once you keep your little mouth shut.’
Michael shouted back and waved his hand, calling out in his native German. My heart shrank with fear—we were being rescued by the enemy.
Thirty-Two
‘Where are they?’ Hari sat next to Kate on the sofa in her little parlour and drank the endless cups of tea Hilda insisted on making for them. When she brought in the tray yet again, she was dressed to go out.
‘I’m taking Teddy for a walk. I won’t be long.’ She dressed the little boy and winked at Hari. ‘I might get myself a little drink when I’m out, not much mind, just enough to warm my belly.’
When the door closed behind Hilda and the baby, Hari touched Kate’s arm. ‘I haven’t heard a word from any of them. I’m so worried, Kate.’
‘Have you heard anything on that machine of yours in the office, anything about escaped Germans?’
Hari shook her head. ‘That’s a thought. Meryl knows enough to get a radio signal through to me if she can only find the right equipment. Perhaps they’re both in France looking for a resistance group. I’ve got to hope, Kate, I’ve got to have hope.’
‘What’s this about a resistance group?’ Kate sounded bewildered.
‘Some of the French are fighting the Germans, others of course have given in, collaborated.’
Hari swallowed hard. ‘I suppose the worst thing is my sister and Michael could both be dead.’ Her voice was flat, heavy. An unbearable pain filled her, a physical pain like she had never experienced before. ‘How could I live without them?’
‘You’d have no choice.’ Kate’s voice was suddenly filled with tears, ‘you just find a way to go on, you have to.’
‘I’m sorry, Kate,’ Hari said at once, ‘of course you do, you’ve lost your Eddie, I know the pain must haunt you day and night.’
Suddenly she was weary. All Hari wanted to do was lie down and sleep. ‘I’d better get back,’ she said, ‘it’s getting dark.’
Kate went to the window as if she could see outside. ‘Hilda’s keeping the baby out a long time, she hates the dark, especially these days when there’s no street lights and windows are all blacked out.’
Hari saw the irony of her words, to Kate everything was blacked out. ‘Look, shall I go and find them?’
‘Stay a bit and talk to me,’ Kate said. ‘Talk about anything, I just don’t want to be on my own. If they don’t come back in, say an hour, go and look. Hilda might have taken little Teddy to Maggie, you know the good Catholic lady who lives near the Lamb and Flag?’
‘That’s likely.’ Hari’s voice was deliberately cheerful. ‘Hilda loves to show the baby off.’ She smiled, though Kate couldn’t see her. ‘She’ll probably persuade Maggie to fetch them both a bottle of stout from the pub.’
‘Hilda says he’s the spit of Eddie. I feel the boy’s face sometimes, trying to see through my fingers.’ She shrugged. ‘But at least I can tell he’s strong and sound with good lungs that I can hear well enough when he’s screaming for attention.’
‘And what about Stephen—is he good with Teddy?’ Hari’s conversation was banal and she knew it but she was desperately trying not to talk about her own worries.
‘Good enough, but he wants a child of his own so badly.’ She put her hands across her belly. ‘I hope to the Holy Mother I can carry this baby safely.’
‘Oh Kate, you’re expecting and me going on about my worries!’ Hari put her arm around Kate’s shoulder. ‘If even an explosion couldn’t shift Teddy you must be born to be a mother, of course you and the baby will be fine. Not sure I’m born to be a mother though,’ she finished dryly.
Kate forced a smile. ‘Go and get us a drink, Hari.’ Her voice ached with tears. ‘Pour some brandy for us both, give us both a lift, we need it to live through this hellish war.’
The time passed slowly. Hari tried not to think about Michael or her sister, out there running, hiding or injured in a field somewhere. She kept up a flow of chatter until there was the sound of the door opening.
Kate stood up, her blind eyes looking across the room. ‘Thank God! They’re home.’
It wasn’t Hilda and the baby who came into the parlour but Stephen, his eyes dark-ringed, his scars standing out sharp against his pallor.
‘There’s been an explosion,’ he said. ‘I tried to help but when the firemen came, and the ARP, they sent me home, said I looked as if I’d given enough to the war effort.’
‘Where was the explosion?’ Kate’s voice was icy calm.
‘Just by the Lamb and Flag, nowhere near us. Don’t worry, th
ere’s no air raid.’ He sagged into a chair. ‘I’m so tired I could sleep on a razor.’
‘Go to bed, love.’ Kate said, ‘I’m going to see Hari to the door.’ Hari watched with an aching heart as Kate walked into the kitchen and felt for her coat on the peg. Hari took her arm.
‘Look, you don’t know that Hilda was over at Maggie’s. Stay with Stephen and I’ll look for Hilda.’
‘I have to look for myself.’ Kate’s answer brooked no argument.
Arm in arm, Hari walked with Kate over the devastation that Swansea had become. Her home town wasn’t alone in this: London, Coventry, Manchester and many other big cities had been blasted to the ground. The German Luftwaffe seemed intent on bombing Britain into submission.
Hari saw at once that the Lamb and Flag was a dark, smouldering ruin with a few flames still shooting up intermittently from the rubble. She heard a faint, anguished cry fading to a ghostly stillness and her blood chilled.
‘For God’s sake Hari, the houses, Maggie’s place, what in the name of all the saints has happened?’
‘Some of the houses are bombed but Maggie’s is still standing.’
‘The Holy Mother be praised.’ Kate sagged against her and Hari swallowed her tears. ‘There, the baby is fine, come on let’s go look for him.’
Maggie’s door was open as it always was but the house was empty. Mary Pryce appeared from next door. ‘Maggie took Hilda and the baby to the Lamb and Flag,’ she said heavily. Wanted a bit o’ a drink she said.’
‘Oh Holy Mother and all the angels no,’ Kate said. Then her head lifted. ‘Hush!’ She stood like a hunting stag listening, sniffing the air. ‘I hear him so I do, I hear my Teddy’s voice.’ She stumbled forward into the smoking, ruined building. Hari followed her and tried to hold her back but Kate pressed on, climbing over huge chunks of debris until she disappeared from sight.
Hari knew that Kate’s sense of hearing, the touch of her finger tips in the darkened ruin of the Lamb and Flag, would be assets that sighted people would not have.
Hari heard Teddy wail and her heart quickened. She moved forward instinctively, waving her hands in front of her face, trying to dispel the smoke and the smell of burning. She touched a soft shoulder and dimly recognized Hilda. There was a rumble beneath her feet, the floor to the cellar must be burnt through, any minute they might crash downwards with the tons of twisted metal and masonry they were stumbling over. Hari dragged Hilda into the street.
Once safely outside, Hilda sagged to the ground. ‘I’m all right—’ she began to cough—‘help Kate for God’s sake.’
But Kate needed no help. She emerged from the smoke and handed Teddy to Hari. I’m going back for Maggie,’ she said and disappeared into the smoke once more. And even though Hari called her until her voice was hoarse there was no reply.
Thirty-Three
I sat on a bunk in the small cabin that looked as if it might belong to the chief engineer judging by the range of strange equipment on the desk. I had a blanket wrapped round me, which was just as well, because my ‘baby’ had gone when the bag had vanished into the sea in spite of my endeavours to keep it. All I could hope was that if any of the sailors from the Irish merchant ship had survived they would be kept well apart from us. I imagined they would, they were crew and Michael at least had been taken for the son of the fatherland, which of course he was. How he would explain our presence in the sea I couldn’t imagine.
I knew we had bypassed Ireland; when the mine struck, the ship had floundered, drifted way off course and now, hours later, we were on our way to Germany, making our way past the coast of France.
Michael came into the tiny cabin accompanied by some sort of officer.
‘My wife,’ Michael said in German. The officer scarcely acknowledged me. I was relieved I didn’t yet know what we were supposed to be doing at sea in the first place.
The officer nodded again and left us. Michael sat down beside me and rubbed his face. ‘Speak German,’ he instructed me, ‘and only speak when you have to, I’m not sure they trust me.’
‘Was wirst du ihen sagen?’ I huddled close to him.
‘The story is you came from Ireland but from German parents,’ he replied. ‘We were returning to Germany when the Irish boat was accidentally sunk by the sub.’
‘We would have drifted off course,’ I said. ‘And what about the crew, the good men we were with?’
‘Poor sods,’ Michael said. I gathered that none of the Irish crew had survived.
‘Let’s try to get some sleep.’ Michael pushed me to the side of the bunk and stretched out beside me. I wanted to cry but Michael would think me even more of a child. Even now, when I had womanly curves and had got away with being an expectant mother, he treated me as if I was his kid sister.
He was lying beside me, our bodies touching out of necessity, the bunk was so narrow. It was torture for me. I wanted him, touching me, holding me, being inside me. I was a woman and human but Michael was in love with my sister, profoundly in love and he would no more betray her love than he would hand her little sister over to the enemy.
Eventually, I slept.
I was woken roughly by hands pulling me from the bunk. I opened my eyes sleepily and saw one of the sailors gesturing for me to go with him. I looked at Michael and he nodded. ‘Go easy with her,’ he said in German, ‘she’s very young and a bit slow-thinking like most of the Irish.’
I bit my lip as I realized Michael was acting in character. German people thought every other race was slow compared to them. The man holding my arm had clear blue eyes that seemed to penetrate my skull, he was someone to be reckoned with that was for sure.
An officer invited me to sit opposite him and nodded to me politely. ‘Frau Euler?’
I nodded.
‘Tell me what’s been happening to you and your husband.’
‘He was taking me to his homeland, he wanted to fight for his country.’ I hoped my funny accent would be taken for the Irish part of me.
‘Where had you been?’
‘Been? I don’t know what you mean, sir.’ I know I sounded stupid, at that moment I felt stupid.
‘Where have you been living?’ he said slowly and loudly.
‘In Ireland, sir.’ I hoped that was a good enough answer. He seemed to be waiting. I dabbed my eyes. ‘My mammy, she died while I was at her bedside.’ I stopped then as Michael had warned me not to say too much. The officer looked at me without expression.
‘Where did you live in Germany?’ It was like a bullet from a gun. Where did I know of in Germany? What would I say? I decided to stay as near the truth as I could.
‘On a farm. Michael was working the land for food for the troops, his mother Mrs Euler was very old, she too died. So,’ I sighed heavily, ‘we went to say goodbye to my family before Michael joined the…’ I didn’t know the word for ‘forces’ so I took refuge in wiping my tears on the edge of my skirt again. The officer averted his eyes from my dimpled knee.
‘That will be all, for now.’ He stood up and I quickly left the room. I don’t know how much of my story he believed, he gave nothing away, but as I was marched back to the cabin, Michael was being taken out. I put my arms around him and pressed my cheek to his.
‘I told them about the farm in Germany,’ I whispered, ‘didn’t give a name to the district.’ I kissed him, savouring his unresponsive lips. ‘Liebling,’ I said more loudly.
‘We’ll be back home in Hamburg soon,’ he said and kissed me softly. And then they took him away from me and I wondered if I would ever see him again.
Thirty-Four
The smoke that would have blinded most people made little impression on Kate’s eyes, she could see nothing anyway. She did start to cough and, clearing her throat, she shouted as loudly as she could.
‘Maggie! Where are you, you old baggage?’
She heard a sound like a cat mewling and went towards it. She stumbled over some rubble and, on her hands and knees, careless of the tearing of her stockin
gs and the grazing of her shins, she called again.
‘Maggie, keep calling me, I’m coming for you.’
There was no reply but her sharp ears caught the sound of movement and she scrambled towards it. There was the noise of stones, a shower of them falling, and then her hand reached out and touched a warm, human hand. From the sticky feel of it Kate knew Maggie was bleeding.
‘Come on.’ She coughed out the words. The smoke was getting thicker, heavier, and time was limited if she wanted to survive.
Maggie didn’t speak but her hand clung desperately to Kate’s. Following the sound of voices, Kate headed towards the open air dragging Maggie, stumbling behind her. She could breathe. She fell to the ground feeling hands on her, lifting her. She knew, by the scent of him, through the smell of smoke, she was in her husband’s arms, her true but unwedded husband, her wonderful Eddie.
She touched his face. ‘Is it really you, Eddie, you’ve come home again! You’re alive and I’m not dreaming?’
‘It’s me, my darling, it’s me, I’ve come back to you. Don’t worry about me, worry about yourself. You have to go to the hospital, just to be checked, Maggie is going too but mum and the baby are all right.’
Kate seemed to fade then into a mist of a world, a mist inside her head. All she was conscious of was Eddie holding her close, still loving her, he was safe and well and home with her again. It was a miracle and she would bless the Virgin Mother for it every night of her life.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in her own bed. She could hear sounds from downstairs, muted voices, Hilda putting the kettle on the gas, talking baby talk to little Teddy.
Eddie; had she been dreaming she was in his arms, was it lack of air in her lungs causing her to have weird dreams? ‘Please, Virgin Mother, let it be true,’ she breathed.
She stirred and tried to get up but her knees hurt. She felt her legs and they were covered in bandages. Further down, her ankle was swollen and had a sort of stocking on it holding it tight. She must have been unconscious all the time she was at the hospital.
