‘Greg, Greg, wake up. They’re in the house and I think they’ve got Jack,’ she whispered as she shook his shoulder.
His hand came up and covered hers. ‘I’m awake. I’ll get dressed. Sit on the other bed.’ He mouthed the words into her ear and she nodded.
It took him seconds to pull on his trousers and then he was beside her. ‘What did you hear?’
She told him and he was silent. ‘Stay in here. I’m going down. We left the cartridges and shotguns in the sitting room. If I can get hold of one, we’ve got a chance of coming out of this unscathed.’
He didn’t wait for an answer, just assumed she would do as he said. If there were two assailants, then it would be better if there were two of them as well. She didn’t hear him leave but felt a slight draught as the door opened and closed.
Should she get dressed before she went down? Would the time it took to put her clothes on prove critical? Her dressing gown was cumbersome and flapped about her ankles. With this off and wearing her slippers and pyjamas she was perfectly decent and able to move about freely.
Greg hadn’t put on his shoes – he would want to be as quiet as possible. She slipped through the door and pressed herself against the wall expecting to hear shouting or shots – but the house was eerily silent. Edging closer to the stairs without making a sound was more difficult than she’d thought. Several floorboards creaked when you stepped on them and she had to keep pausing, trying to remember which ones they were.
She was halfway down the stairs before she could hear voices coming from the kitchen. There was a knot in her stomach and her legs were trembling. Where was Greg? She didn’t want to bump into him if he was carrying a loaded shotgun.
The sitting room door was across the hall to her left, at the bottom of the stairs. To access the kitchen and dining room you stepped into the central passageway which led to the back door. The man who had captured Jack must have been standing there when she’d heard him.
There was only one weapon – Greg must be ahead of her. She picked it up and from the moonlight filtering in through the open curtains she found two cartridges and dropped them into the barrels. The smell of cordite still lingered in the room as an unpleasant reminder of what had taken place in here earlier.
Something made her decide to exit via the window and not creep through the house. Instead she would make her way around the outside where she was less likely to be heard and would have a better chance of surprising the attackers.
With the cartridges back in her pocket and the gun safe to carry she scrambled over the windowsill and dropped into the flowerbed that ran directly underneath. The quickest route to the kitchen was to go past the front door and turn right. She would have to crawl almost immediately if she wasn’t to be seen.
She paused beside the window to listen. Someone was talking quietly and she recognised the speaker as Greg. For a second she was unable to breathe. How had they taken him captive so easily and so silently? She edged back until she was at the front of the house again. These men now had two hostages and at least three guns and she only had the one.
However, she had the advantage of surprise. Her heart was racing, her palms damp. She couldn’t think straight. Then her head cleared and she had a brainwave. There was a box of fireworks in the barn and she was pretty sure there were bangers amongst them. They were several years old but that shouldn’t be a problem. She only needed a couple for her plan to work.
*
Jack instinctively raised his hands. The press of cold metal on his naked flesh was more than enough to make him cooperate without argument. The gun barrel dug into him, forcing him to move towards the kitchen.
All he could think was that he didn’t know where Ellie had hidden the envelope. They’d have to fetch her and he didn’t want her downstairs with these two bastards.
He stubbed his toe painfully on the wooden doorstep and stumbled into the kitchen and would have crashed to his knees on the flagstones if his capturer hadn’t grabbed his shoulder. Luckily, it was the left one.
There was sufficient light from the room to see where he was going. The second bloke must have been waiting inside to close the door behind them.
The pressure in his spine continued. Why didn’t one of them speak? If he was fit, he would have risked disarming the bugger with the gun but now had no option but to obey. He pulled out one of the chairs from under the table and swung it round so he could sit.
It was a relief to have his back safely pressing against the back of a chair. ‘I don’t want anyone else to be hurt. You can have the bloody paper but I don’t know where it is. Someone hid it whilst I was asleep.’
‘Did you read it?’
Jack hesitated, not sure if it would be better to admit they all knew the contents or deny having looked at it. Sod it! ‘I know it’s a page from the membership book listing the treasonous shits who are members of the fascist party.’ The atmosphere changed. He ploughed on regardless. ‘If I’d wanted to give it to the authorities I’d have done so already. That bastard Humphrey happens to be Ellie Simpson’s grandfather. So family comes first and you can have the bloody list and bugger off.’
The light was switched on and he blinked in the glare. The two men pulled off their balaclavas and dropped their handguns on the table with a clatter.
‘We were sent by someone else on the list and didn’t know there was any family connection. This is an unmitigated disaster and our employer will not be happy that we broke into the house of Sir Reginald’s granddaughter.’
The speaker, not much older than himself, seemed genuinely upset. What had been a life-threatening situation now seemed to be something else entirely.
‘Which one of you bastards shot me?’
The other guy turned to face him. He looked the tougher of the two. ‘It was me. I apologise wholeheartedly. But I can assure you if I’d meant to kill you, you would have been dead. It’s only a flesh wound.’
The door swung open and Greg stepped in. He was holding a shotgun but it wasn’t pointed at anyone. ‘Good God! Timothy Harkness, how the hell did you come to be involved in this nonsense?’ He addressed this remark to the man who’d just admitted to shooting Jack.
‘By all that’s holy, Greg Dunlop. I’ve not seen you since Oxford.’
Things had gone from tragedy to farce. Might as well ignore the two long lost friends and put the kettle on, which was what he’d come down to do in the first place.
He glanced at the second bloke who was looking equally bemused. ‘Do you mind if I make a cuppa?’
The man shrugged and pulled out a second chair and flopped into it with an audible sigh.
Jack listened with growing incredulity to the conversation between Harkness and Dunlop.
‘I worked in the city for a bit and then decided to join the RAF. They’re going to need hundreds of pilots when we go to war with Germany.’
Harkness looked less friendly. ‘If the government would listen to us there’d be no need for a war. Hitler has agreed to Britain remaining neutral in any forthcoming conflict.’
Jack riddled the Aga noisily hoping to defuse the tension. It worked. ‘Don’t make so much noise, unless you want Ellie and Mr Simpson down here to join in the tea party,’ Greg said sharply.
‘I’ll have to wake her up as she’s the only one who knows where the envelope is. I don’t suppose your mates will leave without it.’
‘I’ll go and get her. You stay here and make the tea. You shouldn’t be prowling about anyway; you should be in bed resting the doc said.’
Being given orders as though he was a skivvy by some posh gent didn’t please Jack, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.
Both unwanted visitors were now sitting at the table, apparently relaxed, waiting for him to hand them a mug of tea. No doubt they’d want cake to go with it. He wasn’t inclined to make conversation with a couple of Mosley’s lot so he kept his back to them.
Dunlop had sensibly unloaded his shotgun before
propping it against the dresser. There were two revolvers in the centre of the table – a grim reminder of what might have happened if Ellie’s grandfather hadn’t been on that list.
There was a scuffle on the roof just above him. It didn’t sound like a squirrel or a rat but something larger. Puzzled but not alarmed he carried the kettle to the sideboard where he could see the teapot standing. Then something rattled down the chimney and there was a God almighty explosion.
He threw himself to the floor. The room was full of smoke. Then everything went black.
*
Greg discovered Ellie wasn’t in his room – she must have gone back to bed. He tapped on her door but received no answer. He opened it and switched on the light. It was empty. She must have ignored his instructions and come downstairs.
Then the hair on the back of his neck stood up as he remembered there was a second shotgun and cartridges in the sitting room. Ellie didn’t know nobody was in danger and might think she had to rescue them both.
Ignoring the need for quiet he hurtled down the stairs and checked. He was right. There was an open window so she must have gone out that way. He unbolted the front door and ran out. He was about to call her name when there was a deafening noise from the kitchen.
It didn’t sound like shots but as if something had blown up. What next? Someone in the neighbourhood would be here to investigate and God knows what would happen then. As he rushed towards the noise he saw Ellie, a shotgun under her arm, kick open the kitchen door and yell for everyone to put their hands up.
He could barely see her through the smoke that poured from the open door. Then Jack and the other two staggered out coughing and spluttering and she followed them.
The back door was opened and the smoke began to clear. His eyes were stinging – God knows how the others were coping.
‘What happened? Is the house on fire?’ Mr Simpson tried to push past him but Greg held him back.
‘I’m not sure – but I don’t think so. I can’t hear any crackling coming from the kitchen.’
He was right. There was the devil of a mess, every surface in the room was smeared with soot but apart from that there appeared to be no serious damage.
He quickly explained what had been going on whilst his host had been asleep. ‘Bugger me! It’s a good thing the missus wasn’t here. I can hear them outside – I’ll get started on the clean-up. I suppose you’d better take them all into the front room.’
Greg could hear him muttering under his breath about not being happy to be making tea for burglars. The front door was open and the through draft had driven the remaining smoke out through the back door. He had trodden on something sharp on his first foray and was reluctant to wander about outside in his bare feet for a second time.
‘Greg, there you are. What a lark! Miss Simpson almost blew us up in her rescue attempt.’ Harkness said as he came in from the dark. ‘I’ve never met a girl quite like her.’
‘Mr Simpson, as you might expect, is now up as well. He said everyone can go into the sitting room.’
Jack limped in next. Considering what he’d been through in the past twenty-four hours he looked surprisingly well. He grinned, his teeth white in his blackened face. ‘She’s told me where the paper is and I’m going to get it. I never got my cup of tea and I doubt the bloody range will work after what happened.’
A cheerful voice called from the kitchen. ‘Don’t worry, son, I’ll soon have the kettle boiling. I’ve just got to give the mugs a bit of a wipe and everything will be tickety-boo.’
Jack hobbled past and went upstairs and then Ellie and the other erstwhile burglar came in. He was relieved to see she was holding the cartridges in one hand so the gun was no longer loaded.
‘As soon as Jack’s found the envelope you can go.’
‘Don’t worry, Miss Simpson, once we’ve got what we came for we’ll leave you in peace,’ the man replied.
She glared and pointed to the front door. ‘Wait out there. I don’t want you in this house a moment longer. Take your nasty friend with you.’
Harkness was standing at the foot of the stairs. He took one look at her face and the shotgun and did as she asked without comment.
Once they were out she closed the door in their faces. ‘Jack, do you want me to come and find it for you?’
‘No, I’ve got it. I’m just putting on a shirt and some shoes. I’ll be down in a minute,’ he yelled back.
‘Ellie, why don’t you give me the gun and the cartridges? I’ll collect all the weapons and lock them up in the cupboard again.’
‘There’s no need, thank you, I’m quite capable of doing that myself. If you want to make yourself useful, Greg, why don’t you help my dad in the kitchen?’
He snapped his heels together and saluted smartly. ‘Yes, ma’am, on my way.’
As he hoped she smiled at his nonsense. She really was a remarkable girl. His family would be horrified when they found out he intended to marry her at the earliest opportunity. About time a member of the Dunlop family decided to marry someone not already vaguely related.
Keeping it in the family had another meaning amongst his set. Most of his peers were related to him in some way – since time immemorial the upper crust married their own class. Jack returned with the envelope. He’d removed the grime from his face. The dark circles under his eyes were not from the soot but from fatigue. The sooner he was back in bed the better.
Greg stepped forward and removed the envelope from his hand. ‘Why don’t you go and sit down? I’ll give this to them and make sure they actually leave this time.’
‘Fair enough – after all, they are mates of yours. Tell them to sod off. They won’t get off so lightly if they show their faces here again.’
Ellie was about to argue, but Jack shook his head and she nodded. ‘Greg’s right, we don’t need to be involved anymore. I’ll go and help in the kitchen if you promise to take it easy.’
The torch was still in Greg’s pocket, but he didn’t need it. Harkness and his friend were waiting a sensible distance from the house. He had no intention of crossing the gravel in his bare feet.
‘I’ve got it.’ He waved the envelope in the air and they both hurried towards him. As he handed it over Harkness spoke to him.
‘Sir Reginald will find out what happened here. Don’t be surprised if the Simpsons get a visit from him.’
‘I don’t see why he’d want to come here now when he’s ignored the family for the past twenty-five years. However, I’ll tell Ellie and her father to be prepared, just in case.’
He waited on the doorstep until he heard the sound of their car and saw the headlights flashing as they drove away into the night.
Thirteen
When Ellie explained to her dad exactly what she’d done he was impressed rather than angry. ‘Clever girl, you weren’t to know what was going on. Never mind about this mess, Mrs B will take care of it when she gets here later.’
Amazingly the old range worked fine once they’d fished out the spent bangers from the chimney. The mugs were a bit smeared, but the tea was hot and the cake had suffered no ill effects as it had been in its tin.
‘I’m not happy we had to hand over the list, Dad, it seems a bit like betraying our country.’
‘Family comes first, love, and your brothers would be caught up in it if the authorities got hold of the information.’
‘I don’t see how. Why should they connect us to Sir Reginald Humphrey? Mum doesn’t even live here anymore. We can pretend we know nothing about it.’
Greg spoke from the door. ‘They’ve gone. Harkness warned me your grandfather might put in an appearance when he hears about what happened. Even more likely, I’d say, now that Mrs Simpson has gone to live with him.’
She handed him his tea and a slice of cake on a reasonably clean plate. ‘I hope he doesn’t. In fact, I’m going to write to him before I go to sleep and tell him what happened. Once he knows that we have no wish to be associated with a traitor that shoul
d do the trick.’
‘Take Jack’s tea and cake, love, I’ll be along in a minute.’
Greg had already gone ahead of her. The crockery rattled on the tray and for a horrible moment she thought she might drop the lot. She leaned against the wall for a second or two hoping the trembling would stop.
Then the tray was taken from her hands. ‘You look shattered, Ellie, almost as bad as Jack. I’ll take this through for you.’
With some difficulty she straightened and made her way to the sitting room. Jack looked as if he was asleep in the chair but his eyes opened when they came in. He managed a lopsided smile.
‘Just what the doctor ordered. I’m going to down these and then hit the sack. What time is the first booking today?’
‘I have to be at the airfield by eight o’clock.’ She glanced at the mantelpiece and was shocked to see she only had six hours. ‘Golly! I didn’t realise it was so late – or should I say early? Dad will have to be up to milk the cows in a couple of hours.’
She gulped down her tea but ignored the cake. ‘I’m going up – I’ll see you in the morning.’
Greg stopped her. ‘I’ll drive you down. Remember, I’ve agreed to help out until Jack’s on his feet again.’
‘Thank you. Good night.’
There was no sound coming from the kitchen and when she looked in it was empty. Dad must have seen the time and gone back to bed as well. Heaven knows what Mrs B was going to think when she saw the mess she had to clear away before she could get on with anything else.
Although they had a real bathroom, with hot and cold running water, all the rooms still had a washstand and large china jug and basin. She made good use of that before tumbling into bed.
*
When she went down just after seven the next morning the place was spotless and the new housekeeper beamed as she came in. ‘What a palaver! These old ranges can be very temperamental. Your dad’s had his breakfast and gone off to do the milking.’ Her ample frame was enveloped in a yellow, floral wraparound apron and her frizzy brown hair was hidden under a headscarf.
Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2 Page 11
