Gracie's Sin

by Freda Lightfoot

  Later that day, his leave over, Josh dropped her off at the Eagle’s Head with promises that he’d be back. He certainly wouldn’t forget her, he assured her. He’d come to see her just as soon as he could. ‘The minute I get another pass, Hon, I’ll borrow the old jalopy and come tearing right back to you.’

  ‘You’ll write.’

  ‘Every day.’ He kissed her long and hard with another of his ravenous kisses. ‘God, I could eat you all up. You bring me out in goose bumps just to look at you.’

  Rose chuckled softly, revelling in this heady sensation of power. It was such a new, and unexpectedly exciting emotion. She asked for nothing more.

  ‘That’s the last you’ll see of him,’ Jeannie warned, when she’d heard a carefully edited version of events.

  Lou told Rose she was a damned fool, and Gracie was even more condemning. ‘I do hope you didn’t do anything that you might regret, Rose.’

  Annoyed by her friends’ negative attitude and by the anxious query in Gracie’s compassionate gaze, Rose flounced into a chair to sit in sulky silence. She crossed her legs, her silk stockings, generously provided by Josh, giving off a sensuous sort of squeak. Rose smiled at the memory of Josh enjoying putting them on for her, and then taking them off again. ‘God, what a load of puritans you all are. Can’t a girl have a bit of fun in her life for once?’

  ‘It’s only your welfare we’re concerned about,’ Gracie said.

  ‘I can take care of myself, thanks very much. I’ve had loads of practice.’

  On the Wednesday morning she triumphantly wafted a letter before them all. ‘Eat your hearts out, girls. Listen to this. ‘Never had such a great time in all my life. Hope you’re OK Honey... Ooh, better not read that bit, it’s private. Here you are, what about this? Hope to see again in the not too distant future. Keep yourself ready for action.’

  ‘Aye, but ready for what sort of action?’ Jeannie wanted to know. ‘He’s not taking advantage of you, is he, Honey?’

  ‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! If all you can think to do is criticise, I'd rather not discuss it, thanks very much.’ Rose stalked away, chin held high. Later, she secreted the letter under her pillow and each night as she snuggled down in bed, she would draw it out to read it. It was just as well that it gave her so much pleasure, for it would be many weeks before she got another.

  Each day while Erich Müller assisted Adam to earth up the potatoes, Karl continued to work with Gracie on the hedge. The summer days were long and hot, the work strenuous and yet, despite few words being exchanged between them, their relationship grew and strengthened. As they cut and interlaced the branches, it was as if they wove their love into each strand.

  In theory Gracie wasn’t allowed to go too near him, needing approval from the guard if she needed to check that he was doing the job correctly. Yet they seemed able to communicate by a lingering glance, the briefest brushing of fingertips. Sometimes, Gracie would find a note tucked into the pocket or sleeve of the sweater she’d left lying around for this very purpose. These began, innocently enough, by thanking her for her kindness, progressing to more complex notes, telling how he hoped he could work with her tomorrow and the next day, and the one after that; how he would miss her when this task was completed. Finally he spoke openly of his affection for her, of how he dreamed of her every night and couldn’t wait to see her smiling face each morning. Gracie kept every one, secreting them away in her handkerchief box, only bringing them out to read when Lou and the others were busy elsewhere. This was her private world. Her terrible secret. One she dare not share with anyone, not even her closest friends.

  What might happen to him, to herself, were these ever to be discovered, Gracie didn’t dare to consider. Nevertheless she understood the dangers, the risks they took, and despite her better judgement, she wrote notes in return. She kept them short and, fearful of discovery, as vague and ambiguous as possible. Neither names nor places were mentioned but there was no denying that they were love letters. Nothing less. And she longed to be alone with him with a pain that was acutely physical.

  For all she was thankful that the field was a large one and the hedge verging the lane high and long, she knew the task would be completed soon. Perhaps it was this thought which made her act with a greater boldness.

  ‘Would you be punished?’ she whispered as she walked over to check on whether he’d snicked the thick stem correctly with the billhook, her fingers catching his for the briefest second as she helped him to carefully bend the branch over, making sure that it didn’t break. She didn’t say - if it were discovered that we’re in love, because she knew he understood this, without her needing to say it.

  Then she moved on to check on Erich. ‘Be careful to cover every bit of the potatoes, or they’ll go green.’ His fingers were clumsier than Karl’s, and he was less patient, so he’d been given simple spadework to do. She demonstrated how to earth up correctly, and since he had no English he winked at her, just as if he knew all her secrets. ‘When you’ve finished this job, Adam wants you to help plant some leeks.’ She knew he didn’t understand a word, yet strangely she felt less concerned about spending time with him. Always with one eye on the guard, who kept an increasingly casual watch on his charges while lolling about reading his newspaper, or smoking a cigarette, Gracie remained careful. She maintained a brisk and businesslike approach with the prisoners before returning to her own section of the field.

  The next morning Karl left a note with his answer. ‘They might send me away to another camp.’

  ‘Blimey, I hadn’t thought of that. I really couldn’t bear it.’

  Their conversations were always like this, broken up and spread out over several mornings. But as the prisoners gained the trust of their guard, and he became more lax, the two would exchange short bursts of whispered conversation, each desperate to learn as much as possible about the other.

  ‘Where were you born?’ she asked. ‘How long have you been in the German navy?’

  ‘In a small town on the northern plains. I volunteered when I was a boy of seventeen in 1939 in a fit of patriotic passion. I was too young to understand what I was doing. I should have stayed home and become a saddler, like my father. Listening to your parents is perhaps the wisest thing.’

  Grace disagreed. ‘If I had listened to my parents I would not have joined the WTC. If you had listened to yours, you might not have joined the navy and then we might never have met.’

  Little by little she learned that he’d been forcibly transferred to the U-boat Arm in 1940, despite the fact that the service was supposed to be one for volunteers only.

  ‘Freiwillig zur U-boat Waffe! the posters declared. But I did not dare object as I was told that it was my patriotic duty. Following the basic three month induction period at Stralsund, I underwent a course in telegraphy at the Naval Signals School. First I was made Leading Telegraphist, Stabsfunkgast, then Junior Petty Officer, Funkmaat. Following this, I was promoted to senior telegraphist.’

  They would talk as they stood at the hedge, not too far apart but each pretending to be absorbed in their work, as if oblivious of the other, while they were desperately, achingly aware of every flicker of movement, every breath the other took. Their conversation was held in whispers, questions issued and answered in short, breathless sentences, interspersed with frequent glances across at the lazy guard.

  How did you come to be captured?’

  ‘In the North Atlantic in May 1941. One night at about 1900 hours, not long after the Bismark sink, a torpedo jammed in the tube on our boat. Then we were hit by a depth charge. It was like being hammered with a giant’s fist. I shall never forget the expressions of terror on the faces of the men all around me. There was no panic. Just that cold, sweating fear. So this is how it feels to die, I thought. But only for a moment. There was no time. There were shouts that we would hit the bottom. I was busy with signals from the other boats in the convoy. Each one I must take down, decode, enter into the signals log and place before my co
mmander. Then I must write his response, encode and Morse it out. I do not know where he found the engine power to move that crippled boat. I shall never know. I thought us done for. But I heard him shout, “Surface!” Just once, very calm. And so we did and were captured. We considered ourselves fortunate to survive. Most U-boats sink with all hands.’

  ‘You could have been killed and then we...’

  ‘Ruhe! Sprech nicht. Arbeit!’ The guard had noticed them talking and was ordering Karl to be quiet and to get on with his work. Gracie hurried guiltily away.

  Throughout all of this the work was progressing well. Too well. Soon it would be finished and Karl and Erich would have no further need to come every day to Adam’s farm.

  ‘I won’t see you again,’ his next note said. ‘How shall I live?’

  Gracie went to discuss the matter with Alf. ‘I think the PoWs enjoy having some proper work to do. What will happen to them when this hedge is finished? Can they work on some other project? In the forest perhaps?’

  Alf gave a noncommittal shrug, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her more keenly. ‘Any special reason why they should?’

  ‘No, of course not. I just wondered, that’s all.’

  ‘Not for me to say. No doubt we’ll get our orders, along with everyone else when the time comes. When will the job be done?’ he asked.

  ‘One more week,’ Gracie told him, wondering how she could make the work last that long.

  Perhaps it was the prospect of having so little time left which provoked the need to take a risk. Thursday proved to be wet, the kind of relentless rain with which a mountainous area such as the Lakes is only too familiar, even in summer. Irma brought out flasks of hot soup for their dinner, suggesting they drink it in the barn.

  ‘No point in catching pneumonia.’

  The shelter was welcomed by them all. Adam, Gracie, the guard and, of course, the two prisoners. Adam and the guard exchanged a little small talk. Gracie and the two young Germans ate their hot soup and bread in silence. She didn’t even risk a glance in their direction, in case the expression in her eyes should give her away.

  It was when their dinner break was over and they set off to return to work, that the chance they had most longed for, finally came. Adam was leading Erich back through the potato field, while Gracie and Karl moved in the opposite direction, around the perimeter towards the section of hedge where they were currently working.

  ‘You two all right for a second?’ The guard asked. ‘I need to take a leak.’

  ‘Fine,’ Gracie agreed with a casual nod, and he disappeared round the back of the barn in order to answer the call of nature. The moment he’d gone each turned instinctively towards the other. Karl grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a nearby beech tree. ‘I cannot believe that we have found each other. It is too wonderful.’

  She laughed, dizzy with love for him. Gracie longed for him to pull her into his arms and kiss her but he held back, perhaps fearful of his feelings, and of being discovered. He put out a hand, traced the outline of her lips with one tremulous finger. Unable to resist her any longer, he drew her close and with infinite tenderness put his mouth to hers. Now Gracie understood exactly what Lou had meant by fireworks. She would not have been in the least surprised if indeed a whole cascade of colour had exploded around them. The rain was washing over their faces, plastering their hair to their heads, soaking them through but they didn’t even notice. Not until the guard emerged, doing up his trousers, did they break away and continue on their way as if nothing untoward had taken place.

  To Gracie, it seemed as if her heart were racing with love for him.

  The kiss had ended far too quickly but to the two lovers it felt as if they had shared a life-time of emotion in those few precious seconds. Few words had been exchanged between them. There was neither the time nor the need for such trivialities. Their lips, their hands, their bodies had said everything. But Gracie knew that it was not enough. The kiss had only made their hunger worse, not better.

  Irma was waiting in the kitchen for Adam that evening, the moment he came in from the fields. ‘It’s time you asked Gracie out again. And don’t take no for an answer this time. I know she’s fond of you, deep down. She just won’t admit it. She’s afeared of committing herself, because of the war.’

  Adam sighed. He was beginning to lose heart, to think that he was wasting his time pursuing her. She’d changed recently, had been behaving rather oddly, sometimes jumpy and nervous, at other times serene and smiling as if nursing a secret. ‘I’m not sure Mam. We’re good friends, that’s true enough, but Gracie gives no indication that we could be anything more than that.’

  ‘Utter tosh. You give up too soon, that’s allus been your problem. She’s just playing hard to get, lad. Stand up for yerself.’

  And so he asked her, and was bitterly disappointed when she refused. ‘But you said you would come out with me again, if I waited a little while.’

  ‘I said that I might.’ Gracie hated herself for letting him down, although she’d never truly promised to go out with him again, only said she’d consider it. ‘Some other time perhaps.’

  ‘When? Next Saturday?’ Adam persisted, mindful of his mother’s words.

  Gracie was growing irritated, and rather concerned by his persistence, yet she found it impossible to simply give him the brush-off. Loving Karl was too dangerous to even contemplate. It was complete madness, filling her with shame instead of the joy that being in love should bring. It would be far more sensible to accept Adam’s offer and try very hard to fall in love with him instead. Perhaps Irma might be right. She simply needed the opportunity to allow love to flourish. Wouldn’t that be far more sensible?

  But she’d needed no such opportunity to fall in love with Karl, her inner voice reminded her. It had simply happened, quite out of the blue. She’d only to look into his eyes at that very first meeting to know that he was the one for her. But that didn’t mean she had to act upon it, did it? Except that she had acted upon it. She’d kissed him. Just as her father had predicted. She was born with sin on her soul. Didn’t this prove it?

  Raw with pain, Gracie felt herself weakening; thinking that she really must put more effort into not loving Karl, into not wanting him, instead of planning how they might find escape from prying eyes so they could enjoy more of those wonderful kisses. She should remind herself that he was the enemy; that it could never work between them. The situation was utter torment. Loving Adam would be so much simpler. She really should give him a chance.

  ‘I’ll think about and let you know.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hurt and puzzled by her refusal, yet Adam welcomed the help that the PoWs provided. Government regulations with all the extra ploughing and digging for victory had put more pressure on the small farmer. He was even more thrilled and delighted to have Gracie working with him, yet felt that something wasn’t quite right, for all he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what that was. She’d carefully explained that she couldn’t stay for long; that she wasn’t a Land Girl but a Timber Girl, so must soon return to working in the forest.

  ‘Really, we were fortunate that my ganger let me off normal duties for a while,’ she said.

  Yet when Alf had suggested that the project was taking rather a long time and perhaps she could leave the PoWs unsupervised now, apart from Adam and their guard, she’d protested that this wasn’t really feasible.

  ‘Adam needs me for one more week,’ she’d said. ‘Don’t you Adam?’ And of course he’d agreed that he did. He needed her for much more than one week. He was almost sure that he wished to spend his entire life with Gracie.

  He read into her decision to stay an indication of an eagerness equal to his own, which filled him with fresh hope. And yet she wasn’t entirely herself.

  Sometimes when he chanced upon her, quite by accident, she would start and flush, an almost demented fever in her lovely eyes. On a couple of occasions she’d pushed a piece of paper hastily into her pocket, as
if she didn’t wish him to see. When he’d asked if there was anything wrong, she’d said it was just another letter from her parents.

  ‘But it seems to have upset you.’

  ‘No, well - only because they don’t really get on. They each write to me, complaining about the other,’ she’d explained, with a brittle little laugh. Later, this struck him as strange, since he hadn’t noticed the postman coming by any more often. But then old Jack, the postie, might have called while he’d been out back with the cows. And if she did have difficult parents, Adam felt sorry for her. His own mother, widowed though she may be, had spent her entire life putting him first. She’d always taken the greatest care of him. Sometimes it irked him that Irma was perhaps a bit too overprotective, but he understood. She knew that he’d missed out on so much, not having his father around, and was only doing her best to make up for that, and be both parents to him. That was why she’d suggested Gracie was the girl for him. Because she wanted him to be happy. And what was wrong with that?

  Adam told himself that Gracie surely wouldn’t be spending so much time here at the farm if she wasn’t growing fond of him. She was always up early every morning, eager to start work, watching with him for the PoW detail to arrive. ‘Ah, there they are. I’ll just see that everything’s all right,’ she would say, dashing off down the field path in search of the two prisoners with their guard.

  ‘Wait, I’ll come with you,’ he’d call after her retreating figure, so slight and lithe and lovely as she ran through the field, her fair hair flying in the breeze. ‘I’ll just finish up the milking,’ or cleaning out the byre, or whatever task he was engaged with. But, ever in a hurry to help, she never could wait. Filled with energy and enthusiasm she would dash off, telling him to join her later when he was ready, which of course he desperately strove to do. That was Gracie all over, so considerate. Then he would skimp on his work in order to chase after her.