‘He’s not mine to think about any more.’ Hari’s voice held a note of sadness mingled with anger. ‘I slept with him, Kate, we made beautiful love, didn’t that mean anything to him?’
‘Learn a lesson, Hari, my love,’ Kate said softly, ‘making love doesn’t mean a thing to some men; it’s meaningful at the time, they think they love you just then but men can put things like feelings into different boxes. We women think it means they love us for ever, fools that we are.’
‘Aye, wise words and I’ve heard them before but it doesn’t make any difference,’ Hari said.
Kate was glad to sit down in quietness while Hari took the boys on the swings. She could hear the excited squeals of her boys on the soft air, she could smell the spring flowers and for a time her sadness vanished.
Kate was sorry when it was time to go home but Teddy was crying; he was hungry and the baby grizzled incessantly.
‘Let me push the pram.’ Hari took charge. Kate held Teddy’s hand and put her other hand on the pram handle for guidance. They walked in silence, the children quiet now they were on the move. Everything would be all right, Kate reasoned, Eddie would see sense, if not friendly he would at least be civil to Stephen and they would have tea together with Hilda, who was good at smoothing things over, and the hours of Stephen’s visit would pass soon enough.
Kate would have liked to chat with Stephen, they had always been able to talk and, really, she was lucky to have two fine men in her life at a time of war when there were so many widows about. She made the sign of the cross quickly, her Irish roots surfacing. She heard Hari giggle.
‘What evil thoughts are you thinking now, Kate, that you have to ask pardon of God?’
‘You’re a heathen,’ Kate said mildly, ‘you don’t understand, not being Catholic.’
‘Well, I’m a good chapel girl,’ Hari said, ‘nothing wrong with that is there?’
Kate pushed her friend’s arm away. ‘Go on with you! I’m not getting into all that, I’ve too much else to think about.’
As if to punctuate Kate’s words, the wail of the air-raid warning wrenched apart the silence of the day.
‘Hurry, Kate, we’re nearly home.’ She felt Hari drag her along the road and heard her push open the door and wheel the pram through the passageway into the kitchen.
There was the screech of a doodlebug. Kate froze. And then, after a long terrifying silence came a blast as the house fell apart. The glare penetrated Kate’s eyes, for a long moment she was dazzled, her sight cleared and she realized she could see.
She cried out as she saw all around her the dead bodies of her family. Hilda, Eddie and Stephen were on the floor in a tangle of disjointed limbs. Teddy was flat on his face, his small body crushed by a huge piece of masonry. She crawled towards him to look at his face—he was the image of his father but he had her own dark curly hair and white skin.
‘My boy, my boy,’ she whimpered. She heard a small cry and struggled to where the pram lay overturned on the floor. The baby had tumbled out and his head was gashed and bleeding. Kate picked him up and snuggled him to her. He lay limp in her arms as slowly his little face became blue, waxen like a doll. Kate howled like an animal unable to bear the pain of it all.
She felt an agonizing pain in her legs, it spread slowly up her body and she realized the blood on her clothing was her own. That was all right, there was nothing left for her now, nothing to live for. She had got back her eyesight just to see her family die.
She saw a movement near the door. Hari was half in half out of the passage. She stirred and looked up.
‘I’m all right, Kate,’ she said, ‘I’ll help you to get out, don’t you worry, my lovely.’
‘It’s too late, Hari, don’t grieve for me.’ Kate heard her own voice thin as a thread. There was no need for Hari to help her, she was going with her family to her maker. She put her youngest son on the blankets tumbled from the pram; any minute now she would lie down beside him and let the angels take them all together.
Hari managed to move a little way towards her.
‘I can see you, Hari,’ Kate whispered, ‘just as lovely as you ever were.’
The dreaded sound of whining overhead, rushing downwards towards them ‘Another bomb,’ Hari cried, ‘oh Kate, my lovely, don’t die.’
Kate found the strength to move. She fell across Hari protecting her with her own body and waited. There was a smile on her face as the second explosion plunged her back into darkness and demolished what was left of the house.
Fifty-Five
I watched Michael come across the fields, German fields, but looking just like the fields of home. My heart fluttered and danced as though I was still thirteen years old. I loved this man and I anticipated the moment when he’d take me in his arms and hold me close.
He came close and when he kissed me I breathed him in, the man scent of his skin, the faint smell of shaving soap and fresh summer breezes. We held each other in the bright sunshine and then Michael took me upstairs to bed.
Our loving was deep, slow, almost as if we were saying goodbye. The thought frightened me. Afterwards, we lay together with just a sheet over us, the hot sunshine pouring in through the window, lighting on us like a benediction.
‘I’ve only a few days’ leave,’ he said softly, blowing my hair with his breath. ‘The mission, it’s important; we have news of the Allies landing in France. We don’t know where exactly, not yet, but I promise to try not to kill anyone.’
I put my hand over his sweet mouth to hush him. ‘Let’s not talk about the war.’ I turned into his arms, his chest was hot, lightly dotted with gems of sweat. ‘Love me again,’ I begged.
The days passed like a honeymoon. I made the most of it. Perhaps this time was the only time I would own Michael, as if he was my husband only for now. We could not have been closer during the golden hours together.
When he left me I waved as happily as if my heart wasn’t breaking and then I turned indoors, ran upstairs and flung myself on the bed and remembered every detail of our love and love-making, breathed in his smell from the pillows. At last I curled into a tiny ball and fell asleep.
It was early in the morning when I heard a thunderous knocking on my door. I knew instinctively I’d been found out—the Germans had come for me. It was Fritz.
Fritz came into the house and shared my breakfast—some weak tea and dry toast—every mouthful feeling like sawdust as I remembered Michael had gone.
‘We have an assignment for you; it’s dangerous.’ Fritz toyed with a crust of toast.
‘How kind, but I have to go to work or have you forgotten what you call “my cover”?’
‘Not today, idiot, today you must plead sickness, take time off. Today you will not be surprised when you hear the invasion of the Allies is to take place in Calais although we know different.’
‘So do the Germans, I thought that was part of the plan.’
‘It is but the enemy must be fooled into confusion.’
‘Germans are not that stupid,’ I said thinking of my friend Eva.
‘No, I grant you that, but lies and misinformation have been leaked through the right channels to convince the enemy that Normandy is just a sprat to catch a mackerel, you understand? We hope to send the enemy to Calais.’
‘I’d worked that out. And what is this “assignment”?’
‘You will help the incoming British troops to set up wireless signals at the bay now named “Sword”.’
‘I know that, I had the message, remember? In any case, the beaches are miles away.’
‘You have the jeep and you will have plenty of time to get to the coast, Anna.’
‘Anwn,’ I said. ‘I will not answer to anything but Anwn, it’s an ancient Welsh name.’