I hadn’t thought about eavesdropping with my powers in quite a long time, it was as though being restricted from them now made things like that seem frivolous, selfish even. When I settled into my borrowed bed I thought sadly of Henri. Mum had promised to try and look after him, but what if she hadn’t succeeded? Was I supposed to go on living this normal life, ignoring the abilities I had to help and comfort him, and if so until when? The end of the war? It had been a month since I’d used my powers last, when Henri and Bickerstaff were still in the desert heat of Africa. What on earth would Henri think of me for abandoning him for so long? Would he even forgive me?
I reasoned sadly that he probably wouldn’t. But either way, it was time to try and find out.
I decided to try Ieuan first since he probably wasn’t quite as punishable an offence as looking for Henri or my father, if indeed I were to get caught. The advantage of now being upstairs was that all the bedrooms had bolts on the inside of the doors, so I feigned tiredness the day after the marriage proposal and shut myself away for the morning. Leighton was at school, so I hoped there was little chance of Mum stopping by to see what I was up to. I had been very good this month, after all, and done exactly as I was told. Until now.
I found Ieuan sitting at a table in one of the bunk houses of the POW camp; they were having one of their strategy meetings, which usually ended in arguments about who was to blame for the latest tunnel collapse. But this time there was a different atmosphere between the men in their old uniforms that they had been wearing for months on end. There was no belligerence between them. They seemed hopeful. Ieuan sat across from a man who was usually only referred to as Wing Commander, today he was giving his men a satisfied smile.
“This could be it boys,” he said in a proud Scottish boom, “our salvation has come.”
The WC pulled a crumpled square of paper from a hidden fold inside the lapel of his tattered uniform. It was a tiny sheet with miniscule writing upon it. He showed it around, I felt Ieuan leaning forward eagerly at the mere sight of it.
“The Gaullists are working to free us,” he explained, producing a pair of spectacles to inspect the tiny print on the paper, “of course their tunnels will be much sturdier than ours, they’ve got the materials.”
“Another tunnel?” someone questioned behind Ieuan. Everyone shushed him.
“Yes,” the WC answered with gritted teeth, “but as I say, a much better one. It leads out into a village quite a way from here. All we have to do is dig due north to try and meet it. It comes out here two days from now if they keep up their speed.”
Ieuan filled with excited nerves, but I could feel myself frowning. This was no doomed attempt; this was a proper, full-blown escape. If he made it out of the camp and into the rest of France, the consequences of breaking out would be severe. Idrys had maintained that it was sensible for him to stay put, but here these gents were, risking their safety to get home and start fighting all over again. The men in the camp reached an agreement that they would all help to find the entrance to the new tunnel, but their smiling faces filled me with dread.
I decided not to tell Idrys anything that I had discovered yet; there was still every chance that the plans of the prisoners of war would change and therefore no need to worry him. He’d have enough trouble trying to reign in Mam and Blod now that they had a wedding to organise, after all. With the door to my room still locked I sucked up my strength for another trip, my heavy heart settling on Henri as I focused hard.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered immediately.
How do you know that? I asked, a desperate relief spreading through my whole body.
“It’s for your own protection;” Henri answered angrily, “Gail says so.”
So Mum had found him after all. Henri was sitting in a dusty cupboard, his knees almost up to his chest. A book was open across them and he had a tiny torch which he settled between the pages, illuminating his ragged trousers and sore, calloused hands.
Where on earth are you? I asked.
“I can’t tell you anything yet,” he said sadly, “I’m trying to get home.”
And Mum’s helping you?
“Mum?” Henri asked. I felt his eyes flicker to the side as he thought. “Gail is… your mother?”
She didn’t tell you, I mused, of course she didn’t tell you.
“Why did she keep it from me?” Henri whispered.
Because that’s what my family does, apparently. I felt the old resentment creeping into my head. What did she tell you about me?
“That the psychic trips were making you ill,” he said, “please don’t make yourself sick for me Kit, with any luck I’ll be home soon and-”
She’s lied to you, I interjected. Henri froze, I felt him rubbing his palms on his knees like he always did when his nerves were up. She was the one causing my fevers. She’s afraid of people finding out what I am, in case the government pick me up to work for the War Office like her.
“I suppose she’s trying to protect you,” he murmured.
Don’t defend her, I insisted, seething inside. This wasn’t the time for his forgiving nature. And if she comes to talk to you, don’t tell her I’m back in your head.
Henri nodded. “So you’re really not in any pain?”
No more than usual, I replied, I’m not even using my chair any more. Bickerstaff’s got it at the moment.
“He’s there?” I felt a rush of relief in Henri’s chest. He felt thinner than he had been, more frail somehow. “Thank God.”
Yes he’s fine. He and Blod are getting married.
“I don’t know which to feel more sorry for,” Henri whispered, half a laugh in his words. I laughed too, a warm smile overtaking my bitterness for my secret keeping family.
I’ve missed you.
“I should hope so,” Henri replied with a smile, “It would have been much easier to get back to Norway from here, the Resistance are struggling to arrange my passage to England.”
Where are you exactly?
“Somewhere in France, I shouldn’t say more,” he answered, “Look, don’t be too hard on your mother, Kit. She has all kinds of contacts with the Free French; they rescued me when the Italians were transporting me to Egypt. Gail directed me to all these different safe houses until I could get to this restaurant. I ran miles every day from one to the next, avoiding the German patrols. I’ve been well looked after.”
The constant running in my feverish dreams suddenly made far more sense to me. I wasn’t sure I could forgive all of the secrets and lies my mother had told Henri and me, but she had kept her word to help him to safety and that was something I would always have to be grateful for.
“I’ve missed your voice so much,” Henri said gently, “I... I love you still, you know.”
I love you too Henri.
I felt him tingle all over, a warm happiness rising in his cheeks. Then he gulped and something awkward twisted his expression.
“I think I might have told your mother some things I shouldn’t have,” he mumbled, “she asked about us. It’s quite embarrassing now that I think about it.”
I don’t care, I answered, if there’s one thing she can’t get in the way of, it’s me loving you.
“Even if I’ve been living in a cupboard for two weeks?” Henri asked with a chuckle. “I think I smell like the restaurant downstairs.”
Even so, I replied.
All my doubts about Henri’s feelings for me had melted. As much as I had missed him desperately, I hadn’t realised quite how much it meant to talk to him until now. My hands felt wet at home like tears were dripping onto them, but I forced my thoughts to stay with Henri and his warm, smiling lips.
How soon can you be home?
“A meeting is happening here tomorrow,” he explained, “They don’t usually tell me anything until it’s time to actually do something. But I’ve been invited to the meeting, so that’s a good sign I think.”
Perhaps I’ll drop by.
“Be caref
ul,” Henri warned, “Gail might do the same thing.”
I will be careful, I promised, but it won’t stop me now. Nothing was going to stop me from seeing that Henri got home safe.
***
I composed myself and washed my face after I finally let Henri go. We talked at length about nothing at all until I slowly realised it would be time for lunch at Ty Gwyn and tore myself away from the feel of his smile and sound of his laugh. The Free French were in the business of sending Allied forced home so that they could get back to fighting against the ever-encroaching Nazi threat, so by the time I left Henri I was almost certain that he’d be coming home sooner rather than later. All the same, one tiny doubt remained in my head, alerting me to the risks he’d have to take in order to cross the channel safely.
Downstairs there was a huge commotion at the table as we all sat down to lunch. I had been clunking down the stairs and missed the beginning of it, but the middle was clear enough to catch what was going on.
“Next Friday?” Mam bellowed, “And how do you propose we get everything ready in seven days’ time?”
“I’ve done most of it already on the phone this morning,” Blod explained, “My old friends from school are coming tomorrow to fix up the dresses, Steven’s still got his best suit and he’s had a word with our preacher up at the chapel.”
“He took pity on me,” Bickerstaff said with a smile, but I couldn’t miss the bitter note in his words.
“Don’t knock it boy,” Idrys replied with a warning finger, “you’ve had a hard time of it, take what you can while people are feeling generous.”
Mam and Blod were buzzing around the table laden with lunch foods as Idrys, Ness and I sat beside the doctor and started to tuck in. Bickerstaff didn’t seem to like Idrys’s advice much but he was respectfully quiet and gave the old farmer a nod.
“But people won’t be able to travel up in time,” Mam protested, “Your Auntie Gert and-”
“Oh bugger them, I don’t want them yur anyway,” Blod said, waving her off. She brought Bickerstaff a cup of tea and kissed his scarred cheek gently. “Them aunties always cause trouble, nosey things. Besides which Thomas is already coming up on leave next weekend, and he’s the only one I really care about being there.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about my side,” Bickerstaff added with a laugh that nobody returned, trying to hide their pity for the man with no family ties.
“No friends from medical school or nothing?” Mam asked, giving him a kind smile.
He shook his blonde head. “I’m sure they’re all frightfully busy with the war, I don’t expect they’d be free to make it even if it was six months away.”
Mam didn’t seem happy with that, she was clearly looking for backup to have more time to prepare for the big day. She caught my eye over the table and pointed a finger at me thoughtfully.
“That reminds me Kit I invited your mother,” she began, “I thought she might be too busy like, but she says she can make it. Isn’t that great?”
“Leighton will be thrilled,” I remarked, avoiding the question. I definitely wasn’t ready to see Mum again so soon and if she was here at Ty Gwyn there was no chance of checking on Henri.
“Well everything’s all right then, isn’t it?” Blod said triumphantly, “Bampi, you’ll have to take me out today to see about flowers.”
“Oh good,” Idrys answered, “I was hoping there’d be even more work to do today than usual.”
Blod put her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss on the cheek before strutting out of the room. Idrys watched her go, rolling his eyes.
“Bloody women eh?” he remarked to Bickerstaff.
“Don’t get me started,” the doctor replied.
I huffed at both of them, but they were actually right about Blod, if not women in general. All Bickerstaff had done was ask the big question, now his very life was in Blod’s hands. All in all he didn’t seem to mind, in fact his bad moods were lifting more quickly than they used to, giving way to more frequent happy moments as well as some very thoughtful ones where he let Ness talk his head off about everything under the sun.
After lunch the men cleared out of the room slowly, leaving me with Mam and Ness. I propped myself up at the sink to dry the cups and plates as she washed them, watching her rosy face as she focused her eyes out of the window on the frosty winter scene in the distance.
“I bet it’ll be snowing by Friday,” she mused, “Blod won’t have thought of that.”
“I suppose you have to let them do it their way,” I mused. Mam gave me a knowing nod.
“It’s funny how she’s come back round to him,” Mam said as she scrubbed out the butter tray, “I think he was about twenty five when he arrived yur, strapping young doctor from England, you know. All the girls were mad on him back then, Blod too. She talked on forever about his big blue eyes; oh I was sick of it!” She passed me the tray with a shrug. “And now yur we are, five years on and suddenly they’re in love. It’s a mad world, innit?”
“Very mad,” I agreed, thinking about all the mad things that Mam didn’t even know were going on.
“She went off him for ages, said she hated him,” Mam continued, putting down her things and wiping her hands dry, “She’d never go to the doctor when she was your age, not even when-” She caught herself, looking at me carefully for a moment. “Well, not even when she really needed him. But he always came yur if we called him, you know? He’s been very good to our family.”
I dried the last of the dishes and sorted myself out, turning just in time for Ness to bump into my crutch. She rubbed her head for a moment before she started to smile again, looking up at us with her huge blue eyes. Mam picked her up, inspecting the place where she’d hit her head carefully.
“And what do you think of your sister getting married eh?” she asked, bouncing Ness in her warm arms.
“I like Steven,” Ness said with a grin, “He’s going to make me a house for Dolly.”
“Is he now?” Mam asked. Something changed in her usually peaceful face as she studied Ness again.
“Why you looking at me?” Ness asked, suddenly wriggling to get away.
I realised all too late that Mam was putting the pieces together, looking at Ness’s face from every angle, scrutinizing her tawny hair, blonde at the ends, and her oval eyes the wrong shape for the Price gene pool. I watched wordlessly, unable to act because I shouldn’t have known anything, not even that Ness didn’t belong to Mam. The older woman set the little girl down and straightened out her apron.
“Look after her a minute Kit,” Mam began, her voice suddenly low, “I’m just going to have a chat with Steven.”
Whatever happened between Mam and Bickerstaff meant that they spent the rest of the day in separate rooms after their little chat. But the wedding hadn’t been cancelled and Bickerstaff hadn’t been strangled, so I thought that was probably about the best that we could have hoped for given the collection of secrets Blod had been keeping from her mother for the last five years. I was worried that Blod and her husband-to-be might have thought that I’d given the game away, but they were both so temperamental anyway that it was hard to tell if much had changed. I decided to put them out of my head the next day, leaving them to their frantic planning whilst I considered my options for checking on Henri.
His meeting was somewhere around one o’clock in France which would be twelve at Ty Gwyn. It was an awkward time for a Saturday, right when I’d be expected to help prepare and then eat lunch. I came to the conclusion I would have to beg off with a sore stomach after I’d eaten something, perhaps catching the end of the secret meeting or at the very least getting to Henri when it was all fresh in his mind to tell me what was going on. I had a feeling that everyone would want to make excuses to get away from the lunch table anyway today, the memory of the tension at breakfast did not promise a peaceful meal at midday. When the time came I was right and I was excused without anyone complaining, clunking up the stairs under the preten
ce of lying down in my room. I tried my best not to make my footfalls sound too eager on the echoing stone steps.
Henri was alone in a small back room filled with brown cupboards, sitting at a table where a huge black cat was stalking towards him. It’s fluffy face and curious eyes filled my vision for a moment as Henri’s smooth hand went out to tickle the cat under its chin. It curved its neck; I felt its soft fur pushing against Henri’s wrist as it came closer for more attention.
“Hi kitty, kitty,” Henri said.
Hello, I answered.
He laughed out loud, still fussing the cat. “You picked a good time,” he mused, “if someone comes in at least I can say I was talking to the cat.”
You’re not in the cupboard then?
Henri shook his head. “I’ve been told to wait. Someone’s coming to that window to take me… I don’t know. Somewhere new.”
As he spoke of the window he looked up from the cat to show it to me. A large pane framed in black was ajar, leading out into what appeared to be a back alley.
No meeting then? I asked.
“I think this ‘someone’ is taking me to the meeting,” Henri explained.
Has my mum been to speak to you? He shook his head again. The cat watched him with interest, curling up under his touch.
“I stopped hearing from her a couple of days before you found me again,” he said quietly.
There was something troubling about the way he felt, like he was trying to withhold his feelings from me. His heart was beating faster than usual, but every muscle in his body was straining as if to stay forcibly calm.
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