by Lyn Andrews
‘Mam, who is he and what’s happened to him?’ Bella asked.
Sophie turned, biting her lip. She had completely forgotten about both her daughter and Hetty in the confusion and sense of emergency. ‘He’s been hurt, Bella. Uncle Arthur has gone for the doctor.’
‘But who is he, Mam? Why did he come here?’
‘He . . . he’s a friend of Aunty Maria’s. A very good friend who came a . . . a long way to see her.’
Hetty’s eyes widened and her hand went to the lace collar of her dress. ‘Is . . . is he . . . the foreign young man?’
Sophie nodded. ‘Yes, he’s been in Liverpool for a few weeks now.’ It was with relief that she heard Arthur returning. Perhaps when he’d seen to Hans Dr Franklin could make sure Hetty was all right, she looked very pale and shaken, but then they all were. ‘Here’s the doctor now. I think it would be best if you went back to bed, Bella. Aunty Hetty will take you up, if you don’t mind, Hetty? I’ll come and see you later, after Dr Franklin has gone,’ she promised as Arthur ushered the doctor into the room, the man’s expression serious and concerned.
Hetty gently pushed the child into the hallway and closed the door, her gnarled hands shaking. Nothing like this . . . this distressing thing had ever happened before and the sight of all that blood had made her feel queasy.
Dr Franklin carefully examined Hans while Maria clung to Sophie and Arthur watched grimly, all of them wincing when Hans groaned pitifully.
‘Two of his ribs are broken and his arm and nose. The cuts will heal, although you will have to make sure they don’t fester, and the bruising will fade in time. I can strap up his ribs but he should go to the hospital to have that arm set.’
‘Oh, please don’t send him to hospital! Can’t you set his arm, doctor?’ Maria pleaded. ‘He’s in so much pain and it would be worse if . . .’
‘I don’t wish to question your professional judgement, doctor, but would it be wise to move him? You’ll agree he is in great pain and must be suffering from shock,’ Arthur said quietly and with as much respect as he could impart into his tone. ‘He will be well looked after here, it is quiet and he will be with Maria and Sophie, both of whom he knows well,’ he added. The last thing Hans needed was to become disorientated and maybe even afraid in the emergency department of Stanley Hospital, which was the nearest.
Dr Franklin considered it and then nodded. He’d heard the full story from Arthur on the way to the house. ‘I’ll give him an injection and set both his arm and his nose, and put a couple of stitches in that cut above his eye, if you could assist me, please, Mr Chatsworth? Mrs Teare, I will need something to serve as a splint and plenty of thick bandages, if you have them. If not, perhaps we can improvise.’
‘I’ll cut up a sheet, if that will serve, doctor. It won’t take me long, I have dressmaking shears,’ Sophie replied, feeling much calmer now. She turned to her sister, who was still tearful. ‘Maria, go up to the airing cupboard and find a single-size sheet and then you can help me,’ she instructed. It would be better if Maria were out of the room when they set the broken bones.
An hour later Hans, with his arm splinted and heavily bandaged, was sleeping fitfully with a far more composed Maria sitting by his side. She was still very wan but Sophie had made them all a cup of strong, sweet tea, with a little brandy added, after the doctor had gone. He had gone up to see Hetty and had said that although she was rather shaken, she appeared none the worse and was resting. He’d left her something to help her sleep. To Sophie’s relief, when she’d gone in to see Bella she’d found the child fast asleep so there was no need for any explanations tonight.
‘Are you sure you want to sit up all night with him, Maria? I don’t mind taking turns with you. You have work in the morning, don’t forget.’
‘I’m sure but thanks, Sophie, and I’m not going to work tomorrow, how can I leave him?’
Sophie nodded. ‘By Monday I’m sure he will be feeling a little better, perhaps then he will be able to tell us more about what happened.’
Maria reached over and gently smoothed back a strand of hair from his forehead. ‘I’ve made a decision, Sophie. When he’s well again, we’re going home, both of us. He . . . he could have died. They could have killed him and if he goes back to that place or to the docks, it could happen again. They know him now, Sophie. I’m not going to let him risk his life for . . . for me. I don’t know what we’ll do for work, either of us, but we’ll manage somehow.’
Sophie frowned. She could fully understand how her sister felt and everything Maria had said was true, but would Maude Sayle take him back? And what could Maria do there? Mam couldn’t afford to keep them both. Oh, she would try but it just wasn’t fair, Sarah’s life was hard enough. Maybe when he recovered Hans could return to the island and then Maria could follow later? But Sophie had no intention of mentioning this to her sister now. It was too late and she was just too bone weary: exhausted by the events of the night.
Chapter Twenty-Six
HANS SLOWLY RECOVERED AND they learned that on the day before he had been attacked he had had the misfortune to find himself working in the same gang as a man whose brother-in-law had indeed come from Amsterdam and who had picked up both a smattering of Dutch and a slight knowledge of the city. There had followed questions he could not answer and words he did not understand and it had been obvious that he had something to hide. Suspicion had immediately begun to mount against him. He’d heard the words ‘Jerry’ and ‘Kraut’ and ‘Hun’ muttered with curses but he’d tried to ignore the insults.
He’d said nothing to Maria that evening as he did not wish to upset or worry her but the following day the hostility was very much worse and at lunchtime the foreman had sought him out to inform him there was no work for him that afternoon nor would there be ever again. They did not employ Nazis. He’d known it was useless to try to explain so he’d returned to his cell-like room at Mulligan’s for the rest of the afternoon, but when he’d left to meet Maria they’d been waiting for him in an alleyway. He’d fought like a tiger but there had been four of them and but for a couple of old women with bundles of washing on their heads, who had yelled at them to leave him alone and clear off or they’d call the scuffers, he feared they would have killed him.
They’d left him lying in the alley; where the old women had gone he didn’t know but they hadn’t stayed to help him. Maybe he had been calling out in German and they hadn’t understood or wanted to become involved; he didn’t know. He didn’t remember much after that, except that he knew he must somehow get to Maria. He’d staggered through the streets for a very long time but then he had collapsed and the next thing he remembered was Arthur helping him up and bringing him here.
‘Were they men you had worked with? Would you recognise them again, Hans?’ Arthur had asked him.
‘I think maybe two were but I’m not sure, and anyway, what can I do? It would be my word against that of them all and who would believe me?’ He knew he had come very close to death and it had frightened him. He wanted no more trouble.
‘He’s right, Arthur. I know it’s wrong, but I’m afraid it is true,’ Sophie had said sadly.
‘And he’s not going to run the risk of getting beaten up again,’ Maria had added emphatically, taking his hand protectively, the one not encased in bandages, and more determined than ever that as soon as he was well enough, they were going back to Peel.
Hans recovered sufficiently to attend the birthday tea Sophie had planned for Hetty. Before she had mentioned it to Maria she had discussed it with Hetty for the last thing she wanted to do was upset the old lady.
‘It’s your birthday tomorrow, Hetty, and I was wondering how you would feel if we asked Hans to join us – for a little while? If you feel it would upset you or have any objections . . .’ She left the rest unsaid.
Hetty thought about it and then nodded slowly. At first she had been very wary of him, even though she pitied him for the pain he was obviously suffering, but gradually she had come to re
alise that he posed no threat to either herself or those she considered her family. ‘I wouldn’t like to leave him out, Sophie. It wouldn’t be the right thing to do at all. He seems a nice enough young man – for a foreigner – and he has suffered a great deal.’
Sophie nodded her agreement. ‘He has. It was a great mistake for him to come to Liverpool, we all warned him but . . . but he loves Maria so much that the separation became unbearable. But as soon as he is well enough he will go back to Peel.’ She didn’t mention to Hetty that her sister was determined to go back to the island with Hans; she knew it would upset her.
Hetty smiled. ‘Maria is very lucky, Sophie, to have someone who loves her so much.’
Sophie had smiled sadly as she nodded.
Maria was pleased that Hans was to be invited. ‘I’m sure it will make him feel better, Sophie, to be included, but I’m still determined to take him home.’
‘Well, don’t go mentioning that to Hetty. I don’t want her to get upset, not on her special day, and if she knows you’re going too it will worry her.’
Maria promised she’d say nothing.
Everything was ready and the table looked lovely, Sophie thought with satisfaction. Maria had arranged spring flowers in one of the cut-glass vases and placed it in the centre of the table, beside the cake which Sophie thought looked very good. She had iced it carefully and had even managed to get the lettering fairly even. ‘Happy 80th Birthday, Hetty’ was what they had decided on and Sophie had tied a length of satin ribbon around the cake. Bella had wanted candles too but Sophie had said that it would be impossible to get eighty candles on the cake, even if she were lucky enough to find so many.
‘But, Mam, blowing out the candles is the best part,’ Bella had protested.
‘Aunty Hetty is a very old lady, Bella, and it takes an awful lot of “blowing” to put out all those candles, it would exhaust her,’ Sophie had said.
Bella had been persistent. ‘But she won’t be able to make a wish!’
‘Of course she will,’ Sophie had replied firmly.
Lizzie and Jim had arrived at ten to three, Lizzie bearing a fancy glass jar which contained coloured bath crystals.
‘I just didn’t know what to get her, Sophie, not that there’s a great deal of choice. I mean what do you buy someone of her age? She’s got so much already. Our Katie suggested these but I wasn’t sure. What do you think?’
‘I think she’ll be delighted. She loves things like that,’ Sophie reassured her aunt.
‘How is the lad now?’ Jim asked. They’d heard about the attack on Hans.
‘Getting stronger each day. He’s coming in to join us for half an hour.’
Lizzie raised her eyebrows but she was curious to meet this Hans Bonhoeffer. ‘He was a fool to come here in the first place. I take it when he’s got over it he’ll be going back to Peel?’
Sophie nodded but not wishing to get into a discussion on Hans and Maria’s future she urged her aunt to place the gift she’d brought on the table with the others before Hetty came down.
They had all bought Hetty a gift and these had been wrapped and were now set out on a side table, all except Bella’s which Sophie had agreed the child could give to Hetty first.
Sophie had made the old lady a lovely bed jacket in lavender crêpe with a warm fleecy lining, trimmed with lace and ribbon. Maria had bought Hetty’s favourite Yardley’s Old English Lavender soap, talcum powder and cologne and had added Hans’s name to the gift card. From Arthur there was a silver-backed hairbrush in a box and he’d had ‘Henrietta 80’ engraved on the handle.
Bella was wearing her best dress, the royal blue velvet Sophie had made her for Christmas, and her hair was tied back neatly with a white satin ribbon. She was holding the card she had made, which Sophie had to admit had turned out very well; in fact she was beginning to realise that Bella was quite artistic.
At three o’clock Arthur escorted Hetty into the dining room and when she saw everyone eagerly waiting for her, her face lit up with pleasure.
‘Happy Birthday, Aunty Hetty!’ Bella cried, unable to contain herself any longer and thrusting the card into the old lady’s hands. ‘I made it for you for your special birthday!’
Hetty examined it carefully and then kissed the child on the cheek. ‘It’s beautiful! A true work of art. Thank you, Bella, you are a very clever girl and I will treasure it always,’ she promised, her eyes suspiciously bright.
‘Come and sit down and we’ll have tea, or would you prefer to open your gifts first?’ Sophie asked as Arthur settled Hetty in a comfortable carver at the head of the table.
Sensing Bella’s excitement Hetty smiled. ‘I think I’d like to open my presents first and Bella can help me.’
Carefully Bella brought each one from the table and placed it in front of Hetty, who exclaimed with pleasure and delight at each one she opened, thanking them all for their generosity. Then Sophie and Maria brought in the tea, the sandwiches and scones and finally Hetty was urged to cut the cake.
‘You have to make a wish, Aunty Hetty!’ Bella urged as Hetty prepared to make the first cut.
Hetty looked around her. ‘There’s nothing more I can wish for, Bella. I have absolutely everything a person could want.’
‘But you have to, Aunty Hetty,’ Bella insisted.
Hetty’s gaze fell on Maria, who was sitting beside Hans and spreading jam on a scone for him. It was so obvious that they were very much in love. ‘Then I wish that Maria and Hans have a long and very happy life together.’
Maria blushed and smiled. ‘Thank you, Hetty. I hope we will and I hope that you . . . that everyone will come to our wedding, whenever and wherever it takes place.’
Hans smiled and nodded. ‘You will all be most welcome, especially you, Miss Foster. It is a great occasion for me to help celebrate your birthday, I have much appreciation.’
Lizzie looked surreptitiously at Jim. You had to admit that the lad had good manners, and he seemed genuinely fond of Maria and pleased that he had been included in this little celebration. And if Sarah didn’t object to the match then who were they to do so?
Lizzie and Jim had finally departed, Lizzie reluctantly for she greatly enjoyed the comfort and luxury of Hetty’s house, to say nothing of the quiet peaceful atmosphere, something which was decidedly missing in Harebell Street. Billy usually made sure of that. But it was all a bit too quiet and refined, Jim remarked as they walked to the tram stop. He intended to go for a pint or two with Pat Ryan when they got back, Lizzie no doubt would quite happily sit and relay every detail to Martha.
Sophie and Maria cleared the dishes away while Arthur helped Hans up the stairs for Maria insisted he must rest now. He had been installed in Bella’s room and the child was now sharing with Sophie. Hetty and Bella, too, had been persuaded to go up for Hetty was tired and Bella had school the next day.
‘It all went very well, didn’t it? Hans enjoyed it too,’ Maria remarked contentedly.
Sophie nodded. ‘Maria, I’ve been thinking about you going back . . .’
Maria stopped folding the tablecloth and looked closely at her sister. ‘I’m not going to let him go on his own, Sophie. He won’t be able to use that arm for quite a while yet and what if he fell and hurt his ribs even more?’
‘I wasn’t going to suggest he went on his own. I’m just worried about how Mam will manage with the two of you and if, when he’s able, Maude Sayle will take him back. She might not; she might have taken someone else on now. Wouldn’t it be better, Maria, if you stayed here for a while? You could save up a bit more, it would help until one of you managed to get work and Mam wouldn’t have you both under her feet; you know how small the cottage is. If Hans was there on his own it wouldn’t be too bad.’
Maria bit her lip. Everything Sophie had pointed out was true.
‘Just, say, for a month and then—’ Sophie urged.
‘Am I interrupting?’ Arthur asked as he came into the room.
‘Of course not. I was j
ust urging Maria to stay here for a month after Hans goes back, to save up a bit more money to help tide them over until he can work again—’
‘Hans doesn’t want to stay here for very much longer, he knows that when he’s well again he won’t be able to go out and says he feels cooped up, he’s used to being outdoors. He’s very, very grateful of course but he wants to get back as soon as he can. But I can’t let him make that journey on his own,’ Maria interrupted.
Arthur nodded slowly; he could see both points of view. ‘Would it help if I were to accompany him? We could take the morning ferry and I could return the following day. Of course I wouldn’t want to impose on your mother – is there an hotel or a bed-and-breakfast establishment where I could stay?’
Maria looked very relieved. It would help solve some of the immediate problems. ‘Oh, that would be a huge help, Arthur, thank you. I’d feel much happier knowing you were with him.’
‘I’ll write to Mam and tell her and ask her to find you some suitable accommodation,’ Sophie added.
‘Then that’s settled. As soon as he’s well enough I’ll go with him but I think we’d better ask the doctor when that will be,’ Arthur advised.
It was three weeks later when Hans, accompanied by Arthur and Maria, went down to the Pier Head to get the ferry. Maria had agreed to stay on for another month, which would help increase her small amount of savings and also give Hetty time to get used to the idea that she was going home and in all probability would not be coming back. Sarah had written informing Sophie that she had booked Arthur into a small but clean and comfortable bed and breakfast on the edge of the village and had been up to see Maude Sayle, who had indeed taken on someone else to replace Hans. But, as summer approached and they became busier, Sarah wrote, he might well be employed for the harvest.
