The Married Girls

by Diney Costeloe

  ‘Is he the bloke who was in the churchyard with the squire earlier?’ wondered Doreen. ‘I saw Squire with someone there, standing by that German grave, they was.’

  ‘Surely Felix Bellinger wouldn’t have any truck with a German come looking at graves,’ said Nancy. ‘He was a fighter pilot!’

  ‘What did he look like?’ asked Mabel.

  Doreen shrugged. ‘Just a bloke. Not bad-looking. Got fair hair.’

  Mabel nodded. ‘Sounds like him.’

  ‘What’s his name?’ asked Sally.

  ‘Not sure. His writing in our register was hard to read. Couldn’t make it out.’

  ‘You mean he wrote it like that so’s you wouldn’t know he was German?’

  ‘That’s silly, Dor,’ said Sally. ‘If he didn’t want you to know he was German he’d have used an English name. Stands to reason. Anyway, what was he doing in the churchyard?’

  ‘I told you,’ snapped Doreen. ‘He was looking at that gravestone for them airmen what crashed.’

  ‘Who was?’ The door had opened and Mavis Gurney came in. ‘Who was in the churchyard looking at gravestones?’

  ‘A German with bad legs who’s come to see Dr Masters,’ said Nancy. ‘He’s staying at the Magpie, but Mabel isn’t going to ask him why he’s come.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Mabel agreed. ‘None of my business.’

  This remark was greeted by a gale of laughter. ‘Since when has that ever stopped you nosing?’ cried Sally Prynne.

  ‘I can’t stand here nattering all afternoon,’ sniffed Mabel, gathering up her shopping basket from the floor. ‘I got a pub to open.’ With that she swept out of the post office, leaving the others still chuckling. She needed to get back and try and find out more about her mysterious German visitor before anyone else did. She had run out of insider information.

  That evening she wasn’t really surprised to see Bert Gurney, Charlie Marston and Arthur Prynne walk in. Charlie and Arthur walked up to the bar and ordered three pints of scrumpy, but Bert paused at the door, looking round the bar as if expecting to see someone he knew. There was no one and he joined the others, picking up his pint and looking across at Jack to say, ‘Not many in tonight, Jack.’

  ‘Early yet.’

  ‘Yeah. Well, heard you had someone staying. Thought we’d like to meet him,’ his eyes darted round the room yet again, ‘make him welcome to the village, like.’

  Jack sighed. ‘Oh yeah?’ Clearly word of the German had got about and the women had sent their menfolk to find out more. ‘Well, he’s not here.’

  ‘We can wait, can’t we, lads?’ Bert downed his pint in one long swallow and banged the empty glass on the bar for a refill. With some misgiving Jack complied. He could see what sort of mood Bert was in and knowing what he could be like when he was tanked up, he didn’t want him causing trouble.

  At that moment the door opened and Dieter walked in. It was clear to everyone that he was the man they’d come to see, an unknown man with fair hair who walked like a drunken sailor. Not immediately aware that he was a cause of any interest, Dieter came across to the bar and asked Jack for his key.

  Bert moved to block his way and Dieter paused, a question in his eyes.

  Bert, never one to pussyfoot around, looked him up and down. ‘You’re German, ain’t you? What you come here for?’

  Dieter stiffened. He could see the belligerence in Bert’s eyes, but he didn’t think there’d be any real trouble standing at the bar of a village pub.

  ‘My name is Dieter Karhausen and I come from Cologne.’

  ‘That’s in Germany,’ confirmed Charlie helpfully.

  ‘Ah, but what you come for?’ demanded Bert.

  ‘I come to thank those who saved my life in the war.’

  Bert looked at him narrowly. ‘Oh, yeah? And who are they then?’

  ‘The doctor and of course the men who helped cut me down from the tree.’

  That really shocked Bert and his eyes widened as he turned to his mates. ‘You hear that, Charlie? This is the bugger from that Jerry bomber, the one what was dangling in the tree. Old man Shepherd made us cut him down.’

  ‘And for this I thank you,’ Dieter said.

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ sneered Bert. ‘If I’d had my way you’d still be up there... dangling.’

  ‘I know I was the enemy,’ Dieter said carefully, ‘but it saved my life... and my legs... that you cut me down and I thank you.’

  ‘So, you come back and expect us to be pleased to see you, do you?’

  ‘Bert,’ Jack spoke sharply from the other side of the bar, ‘that’s enough.’

  ‘Enough, is it? He turns up here, stays in our local and expects us to forget that not so long ago he was trying to bomb the hell out of us.’

  Trying not to be provoked, Dieter said simply, ‘It was war.’

  ‘Yeah, it bloody was, and you were on the wrong fucking side, mate. So you can take yourself home again. We don’t want your thanks. We didn’t want to save your bleedin’ life, did we?’ He looked round his pals for confirmation. ‘I’d have shot you and been done. Now you’ve had your say you can bugger off back to Col... Col... whatever place you come from. You ain’t welcome here.’

  ‘I see,’ said Dieter, and reaching round him took the key that Jack was holding out to him. Without a backward glance he crossed the room and went up the stairs.

  ‘Satisfied?’ asked Jack wearily.

  ‘Surprised at you, Jack, giving him a room.’

  ‘His money’s as good as anyone else’s.’

  ‘Well, all I can say is that I hope you’re charging him double. We don’t want no Krauts round here.’

  There had been a hush in the bar during Bert’s exchange with Dieter, but now the buzz of conversation had returned. Bert looked round at his two mates and said, ‘Pity Frank ain’t out tonight, he was there when we cut the bugger down.’

  The three men spent another hour drinking, but Dieter didn’t reappear and at last they went home. As he strode out of the pub, Bert was smirking.

  ‘I told him,’ he said for at least the fourth time. But though he had indeed ‘told him’, he knew somehow that he’d come off worst in the encounter, and in public, and it made him determined to get his own back. No crippled Jerry airman was going to get the better of him.

  Upstairs, Dieter lay on his bed. His father had been right after all. Not everyone appreciated the effort he’d made to come back and give his thanks. He’d seen the doctor and he’d seen Charlotte. He wondered if he should leave it now and go home, but the thought left him almost at once. He hadn’t just come in gratitude for his life, he’d come to pay his respects to his fallen comrades and that’s what he would do. Felix had agreed to take him down to Cheddar to see the stonemason in the morning, and he would go. Their names would be carved onto the stone whether the man in the bar liked it or not, and be damned to him!

  36

  When Felix reminded Daphne he was going to take Dieter down to Cheddar the next morning she said, ‘What on earth for?’

  There had been an uneasy half-hour the previous day when Dieter had turned up at the house to talk to Felix about the gravestone. Felix had led him into the drawing room and Daphne had followed, wanting to know who the strange man with the waddling walk was and what he wanted with Felix.

  It turned out he was German, the German from the crashed plane Marjorie had told them about. Daphne disliked him at once and was at no pains to hide the fact. She didn’t shake his hand when Felix introduced him, simply gave him an icy ‘How d’you do?’ before turning away to seat herself in a chair by the window. She sat in stony silence, listening as the German explained what the vicar had suggested, and Felix had at once agreed to drive him down to Cheddar to see the stonemason.

  Daphne couldn’t believe it and trying to put a stop to it she said, ‘I need the car tomorrow, Felix. It’s Jane’s afternoon off and I’m going into Bristol to meet her.’

  ‘That’s no problem,’ Felix had responded ea
sily. ‘We’ll go in the morning and you can have the car as soon as we get back.’

  ‘You know why,’ Felix said now. ‘To see the stonemason. You heard me arrange it with him yesterday.’

  ‘But I can’t think why you did. He’s a German, for God’s sake. We were at war!’

  ‘We were,’ Felix agreed wearily, ‘but we aren’t now. Daphne, he’s made a great effort to come back here to thank those who saved his life and pay his respects to the rest of his crew. I wonder if I’d have bothered to do the same if our positions had been reversed.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Daphne shrugged, ‘but I’d better warn you, Mavis Gurney’s just been telling me that it nearly came to blows in the Magpie last night when her Bert discovered who this German was. She says it was Bert that helped cut him down on the say-so of John Shepherd. She says Bert wasn’t happy about it then and he isn’t happy to see him turning up here again now.’

  ‘Bert Gurney and his cronies are an ignorant bunch,’ Felix said. ‘And you shouldn’t be spreading their gossip.’

  ‘I’m not spreading it,’ snapped Daphne. ‘I’m simply telling you what Mavis said when she arrived this morning. I thought you’d want to know.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ sighed Felix and then added, ‘Did you tell her he’d been here?’

  ‘I may have mentioned it.’

  ‘And why I’m taking him to Cheddar this morning?’

  ‘Probably.’ Daphne was tired of the conversation. ‘Does it really matter?’

  ‘It’s my business,’ he said tightly, ‘and I’d prefer you didn’t pass it round the village.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Daphne who clearly wasn’t. ‘I didn’t know it was a secret!’

  Felix closed his eyes and drawing a deep breath, said, ‘I’m going now. I’ll see you later.’

  He was exasperated by Daphne’s casual spread of his private doings. It was no one’s business but his own if he chose to befriend a German airman who was visiting the village, but now Mavis Gurney knew about the names being added to the gravestone, it was only a matter of time before that, too, would be the talk of the village.

  ‘Don’t forget I’ll need the car when you get back,’ Daphne reminded him. ‘Jane and I’ll probably go to the pictures, so I may not be back until late.’

  Felix had got used to Daphne’s visits to Jane in Bristol. He almost looked forward to them, having the house to himself; and she always seemed in a better mood when she came home again. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I’ll be back well before lunch.’

  Daphne watched him drive out of the gate and smiled. At least she’d have the car for the rest of the day and Felix wasn’t expecting her home early. There were occasions when Felix needed the car himself and said she couldn’t have it. Then she had to ring Jane and say she couldn’t come, disappointing them both. Occasionally she took the bus, but it wound its way through all the villages before it finally reached the city, taking for ever, and the last bus home left at ten to six.

  She went into the farm office to get an envelope. It was time to send her mother this month’s money for Janet. Although the deal she had made with Mum had been agreed four years ago, Daphne had risked missing only the one payment. She’d received her mother’s warning then and now she was even more determined there was no chance that Felix should discover who Janet really was, not after her carefully constructed explanation of why she couldn’t have children. She had even considered putting the money up by a pound to help keep Mum quiet. Things were a little more flexible financially now, but in the end she decided to wait until her mother asked for more. After all, why pay more if she didn’t have to? It meant she could squirrel away a little bit more for herself.

  She addressed the envelope and set out for the post office to buy her postal order. She didn’t often buy one in the village, she didn’t want Nancy Bright to note the regularity of the purchase and draw conclusions of her own. Those might, eventually, get back to Felix, but today she wanted to catch up on the gossip about the German airman, and the post office was the place to do that. Mavis was still working in the house, so the latest news about the grave wouldn’t yet be common knowledge, but Daphne was interested in hearing more about the previous night in the pub. As she reached the village green she saw Felix setting off for Cheddar, the airman sitting beside him in the car. She wasn’t the only one who’d seen them and it was already a topic of conversation in the post office when she walked in.

  ‘How kind of your husband to give that poor crippled man a lift, Mrs Felix,’ Nancy said when she saw who’d come in. ‘Is he taking him somewhere special, or just for a lovely ride around the countryside?’

  ‘I really couldn’t say, Miss Bright,’ replied Daphne lightly.

  ‘I saw your husband showing him the grave in the churchyard yesterday,’ remarked Doreen Marston.

  ‘Did you? How interesting.’

  ‘Didn’t you know?’

  ‘He may have mentioned it, I don’t remember.’ She crossed to the counter and said, ‘I’d like a five-pound postal order, please.’

  ‘He’s German, you know, the cripple,’ Nancy said as she dealt with the postal order.

  ‘Yes, I heard.’

  ‘He was the one that crashed during the war, he told Bert Gurney so in the pub last night, bold as brass.’

  ‘I know, Mavis told me.’

  ‘Mavis? Yes I s’pose she would,’ Nancy said as she handed over the postal order. ‘She’s a bit of a gossip.’

  ‘All right for some, buying five-pound postal orders,’ remarked Doreen when Daphne had left the shop. She watched through the window as Daphne slid the postal order into its envelope, sealed it and dropped it into the post box.

  ‘She does that sometimes,’ Nancy said. ‘Sends it to her ageing mother in London.’

  ‘How d’you know that?’ asked Doreen.

  ‘Well, she certainly sends it somewhere,’ Nancy said. ‘Stands to reason it’s to her mother. Certainly goes to London, cos I saw it on the envelope once.’

  *

  Felix and Dieter had a very satisfactory morning in Cheddar and with encouragement from Felix, Ben Turvey agreed to come up to Wynsdown in the next few days and add the three names to the headstone.

  ‘You are very good to come with me to make the arrangements,’ Dieter said. ‘It would have been more difficult without you, I think. People do not like that I am German.’

  Neither of them had mentioned the confrontation in the Magpie the previous evening, but now Felix said, ‘I heard some of the local men were difficult in the bar last night. I’m sorry.’

  Dieter shrugged. ‘It was nothing, just some bad words. No fight.’

  ‘No, well, I’m very glad to hear that.’

  When they arrived back in the village they found the Magpie had just opened its doors for its lunchtime session.

  ‘Come on,’ Felix said. ‘Let’s have a drink. You’ll have a beer with me, won’t you?’

  Dieter smiled. ‘Thank you, Felix, I should like very much to drink beer with you.’

  Together they walked into the bar where Mabel was polishing glasses.

  ‘Ah, Mabel,’ Felix said cheerfully, ‘two halves of bitter, please.’ He turned to Dieter. ‘Have to make it only a half at a midweek lunchtime, I’m afraid.’ He paid Mabel, who had pulled the beer in silence, and then said, ‘Shall we sit outside? It’s such a lovely day.’ He picked up their glasses and led the way to the tables set out on the green. Dieter followed him, well aware of what he was doing and grateful for his support.

  They sat down in the sun and drank their beer in full view of anyone who was interested; the ex-pilot squire and the German airman. A man came round the corner and seeing him, Felix waved and beckoned him over.

  ‘John,’ he said. ‘Meet Dieter Karhausen. Dieter, this is John Shepherd, he’s the man to thank for rescuing you from the tree.’

  Dieter got to his feet and extended his hand. ‘I have to thank you for my life,’ he said.

  John gra
sped the outstretched hand. ‘I’m glad to see you fit and well,’ he said. ‘You didn’t look as if you’d survive the last time I saw you.’

  ‘Will you have a beer, John?’ Felix asked.

  John glanced at his watch. ‘Why not?’ he said. ‘I’ve come to fetch the grandchildren and take them back to the farm for the afternoon. Gives Charlotte a break, but there’s time for a swift half!’ He glanced round and said, ‘She’s bringing them down here to meet me anyway.’

  Felix went inside for the beer and John and Dieter sat down again. ‘Are you quite recovered?’ John asked.

  ‘As good as I’ll ever be,’ Dieter assured him. ‘I wanted to thank you and your family for your help.’ He paused, wondering if he should say more and then added, ‘I have seen Charlotte and heard your son had an accident. I am very sorry.’

  ‘Thank you,’ John said. ‘We all miss him.’ He gave a faint smile which suddenly widened as he saw Charlotte and the four children emerging from the lane onto the green. He half-stood and waved to them, and the next moment he was engulfed as the children rushed across the grass to greet him, the twins clambering up onto his knee, Edie and Johnny coming to stand beside him, eyeing Dieter with interest. Charlotte followed slowly, pushing an empty pushchair and seeing Dieter, smiled.

  ‘Hallo,’ she said.

  Felix reappeared with John’s beer, and putting it on the table pulled up a chair for Charlotte. Thanking him with a smile, she turned down his offer of a drink.

  ‘No thanks, Felix, once Gramp has got this lot in tow, I’m going back to the house. I’ve a load of things to do and a piano lesson to give at the end of the afternoon.’

  John finished his beer quickly and then gathered his grandchildren together. ‘Come on, you lot,’ he said. ‘Davy, Danny, into the pushchair or we’ll late for our lunch and Gr’ma will be very cross with me.’

  ‘I want to walk,’ announced Davy.

  ‘I want to walk.’ Danny echoed his brother.

  ‘You can walk when we get to the footpath,’ John said firmly. ‘On the road you’re in the chair.’

  He turned to Dieter. ‘I know my wife would like to see you,’ he said. ‘So do call out to the farm any time.’