Bombers' Moon (7 page)

She ate the soup with little interest but it was hot and warmed her stomach. The heat from the stove had taken the chill from the air and she began to doze. Suddenly, before her eyes were the long and short symbols of the Morse code. They untangled, became clear as the normal written word and she sat up with a start as her memories from childhood came back, the days she’d struggled to send messages by tapping on an old tin to the other girl guides. Quickly, she took the paper out of her bag and unfolded it. She was beginning to see the pattern; letters were transposed in complicated forms but, slowly, she would make sense of it all.

She did her chores mechanically and stumbled upstairs. Once in bed she tucked the blankets up to her chin as the bedroom was freezing. She was so excited she wanted to go back to work at once, turn on her machine and really understand what it was all about. That would take some time but she was prepared for that.

She would never sleep. She closed her eyes and didn’t open them again until an air-raid warning wailed into the night. She stumbled out of bed, pulled on a coat and shoes and followed all the other sleepy people on the road into the nearest shelter.

Twelve

So I was settled with Aunt Jessie and my dear Michael. I thought of him cuddling me in the barn and sometimes I felt shy of him. He had no such feelings, he seemed to have forgotten all about that night, but he talked and talked about Hari until I was sick of the sound of her name. One night at supper, over the pristine white cloth on the table in the dining room, the one place that was tidy in the whole house, he handed me a sheet of lined paper.

‘What’s this for?’

‘I want you to write your full name and your address,’ Michael said.

‘Hang on, Hari only gave it to me when she came down to see me. She’s bought a house, it’s a new address to me,’ I said hesitantly, ‘but I’ll fetch it later if you really want it.’

I knew what he was up to; he was going to write to my sister. It felt like ice was rubbing against my belly and my heart.

‘OK,’ he said carelessly and I held my breath.

‘Anyway –’ I knew I sounded aggressive – ‘what do you want it for, do you think they’re going to shove me out of here any time soon and you want to know where I’ll be?’ If only.

Michael looked confused and then he lied to me. ‘Ah, something like that.’ He smiled his lovely smile and I didn’t know how to deal with what was happening. My Michael was falling for my sister and the pain was gut-wrenching. Jealousy was a fire inside my belly, worse than seeing John Adams with my friend Sally, much, much worse.

Later when Michael was gone to work in the fields milking the cows, planting things or whatever he did on the farm, I sat in the kitchen hunched over the fire. Aunt Jessie made me a cup of tea and sat opposite me. There was some kind of lecture coming.

‘About your sister—’

‘Hari? What about her, Aunt Jessie?’ For a minute I felt a pang of fear. ‘She’s all right, is she?’

‘Aye, she’s all right. She’s a lovely girl, a town girl, she’d never be happy in the country.’

‘Well, she doesn’t live in the country and never will.’ Then I saw what Aunt Jessie was getting at and thought it over for a few minutes.

‘At a certain age young folk get fancies but that’s all they are, fancies. Oppose them and they get stubborn, pretend to go with these silly, passing fancies and that’s it, they’ll pass and be forgotten.’

I ran to her and flung my arms around her neck. ‘Do you think I’d make a good country girl, Auntie?’

‘Maybe, maybe not, but you’ll probably have a lot of fancies yourself before you need to decide.’

I knew I wouldn’t have any fancies. Michael was my man for good and ever but Aunt Jessie talked a lot of, well, sort of hidden sense; she spoke like the Sunday School teacher, in sort of parables, but I knew what she meant all right.

‘Now, to something rather unpleasant – I want you to go to school this afternoon. Your teacher agreed to you having the morning off but this afternoon she wants you there to read the part of Titania in the school play; you’re the only one to learn the lines properly, so she says. It’s a good way for you to settle back in, Meryl.’ She smiled. ‘It’s the best offer you’re going to get, so my advice is take it.’

I adjusted my thought to school, to getting ready, putting on my skirt and my long socks, polishing my shoes, going back to meet up with George Dixon.

‘I don’t know why Miss Grist picked me, Titania was supposed to have lovely red hair, wasn’t she?’ We were back to Hari again.

‘Don’t ask me, I haven’t got time to read that stuff.’

I tried not to laugh. ‘Well, I suppose it’s better than going back to double sums or English.’ I loved both those subjects but I felt I had to give in with good grace, at least taking part in a play might be fun. I gave in. ‘It’s a long walk though and my leg still hurts a bit where George kicked me.’

‘I thought it might,’ Aunt Jessie said dryly, ‘I’ll take you in the pony and trap.’

School wasn’t as bad as I thought. Some of the kids crowded round me and asked what George had done to me. They all seemed to have garbled ideas about the attack.

‘Will you have a baby?’ Mattie Beynon whispered in my ear. I stared at her in astonishment.

‘How would I manage that?’

‘Well,’ she faltered, ‘when George attacked you did he put his thing inside you?’

‘No he did not!’ I pushed her away. ‘Look, that rat George Dixon didn’t get anywhere near my knickers so don’t go making up silly stories any of you.’

‘That’s enough of that.’ Miss Grist’s voice held a touch of laughter but her face was stern. ‘There’s no need of that sort of low talk, Meryl. Now, into the hall, all of you, and we’ll get on with the play.’

So I was Titania, Queen of the Fairies. I was to meet Oberon in a fairy glade or wood or something. Oberon was Roy Clark; he was thin and had glasses but then he had a lovely smile, and his voice was good and clear.

‘Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.’ His voice carried across the hall. Challenged, I put heart into my response.

‘What, jealous Oberon! Fairies, skip hence.’ I knew about jealousy now. I waved my hand commandingly to my invisible fairies and then, thank goodness, it was time for a break.

‘Hey –’ Roy caught my arm as I was about to run to the yard for the lavatory – ‘you’re not half bad, you’d make a good actress.’

‘Not interested.’ I pulled my arm away and hurried out into the warm air. Roy wasn’t bad-looking, better than John Adams really but the only man I was interested in was Michael, he had held me in his arms, cuddled me close until I could feel his heart beat and I would never want another man in place of him.

That night, at supper, I meekly handed over the address Hari had given me and as I met Aunt Jessie’s eyes, she winked at me. I smiled; we were conspirators and, Michael, being a man, had no idea.

Thirteen

Hari drove to the farm in the jeep Colonel Edwards had lent her. She was a good driver even though she’d been shown only the most fundamentals of handling the gears and steering. By the time she reached Carmarthen, she was well used to the vehicle.

She saw Michael’s large shape standing in the sunlight at the gate. He swung it open for her as she neared the farm. She pulled on the handbrake and stared at him for a moment and an unaccountable flutter stirred her heart.

‘Meryl’s still in school.’ He took her hand and helped her down. ‘Jessie is having a doze though she always denies it, says she’s “just resting her eyes”.’ He was still holding her hand.

‘Let’s walk,’ she said, and he nodded, slipping her hand through his arm. He felt solid, masculine, he smelt of grass and sunshine and an unfamiliar sensation tingled inside her.

‘Tell me about yourself.’ She looked up at him; it was a long way to look as he must have been at least six foot four she decided.

He smiled, his teeth were clean, straight and even – all in all he was too good to be true.

‘Meryl said you are half German.’

‘I was born in Germany,’ he said, ‘lived there until I was ten.’ He paused. ‘Then I came here to live with Jessie to help on the farm.’ He didn’t seem inclined to divulge anything more and Hari was too polite to push any more personal questions at him.

‘How’s Meryl?’

‘She’s all right. I took hold of George Dixon one day after school and shook him till his teeth rattled. I don’t think he’ll touch her again.’ He glanced at her. ‘Mrs Dixon is another matter, she’s a bad enemy to have.’

Hari wondered if the authorities knew of his German ancestry, if not Mrs Dixon could be a
really
bad enemy.

They stopped on the top of a hill, breathless and still linked together. The sky was large above them, the soft clouds floating across the horizon like a granddad puffing on his pipe. Hari turned to look up at Michael; at the same time he bent his head and his lips were on hers. Hari drew away startled.

‘Sorry,’ Michael said, holding up his hands, ‘you look so beautiful with your face all shiny from the walk and your lovely hair like golden, red-touched clouds drifting around your perfect neck.’

Hari felt foolish yet touched, and suddenly very happy. They stared at each other for a long time and then Hari boldly held out her arms. ‘No harm in a hug, is there?’

When he was close, she could feel his arousal and suddenly her lower stomach was full of heat. She’d never felt like this before; she wanted Michael, she wanted his body but she wanted his soul as well. She drew away abruptly, this was all too sudden, too dangerous.

Aunt Jessie was awake, very much so when Hari followed Michael into the heat of the farmhouse kitchen. The tantalizing smell of roasting meat made her realize she was hungry. All her senses were alert, on guard so to speak, she thought wryly. Aunt Jessie looked at them suspiciously.

‘When did you arrive, Hari?’ She was almost stern.

‘Not long ago.’ Hari didn’t understand why she lied. Yes she did – Aunt Jessie wouldn’t approve of a dalliance between her and Michael. Only it wouldn’t be a dalliance, it would be much, much more than that. It was impossible.

Michael went out to do his work and Hari sat uncomfortably in the kitchen watching Jessie peel vegetables. ‘Can I help?’ she asked hesitantly. Jessie shook her head.

‘No. Thanks. I’m used to doing things my own way.’ She glanced at Hari’s white hands and, unaccountably, Hari felt ashamed they were not calloused or stained yellow as Kate’s were.

‘I’m working on communications,’ she said and it sounded like an excuse though why she needed to excuse herself to anyone, least of all Jessie, defeated her. It was a relief when Meryl came bounding into the house, her shoes clattering on the wooden floor of the hall heralding her arrival as she pushed open the door and flung herself into Hari’s arms.

‘You’ve got a car!’ she said, hugging Hari frantically. ‘I didn’t know you learned to drive.’

‘I’m a quick learner.’ Hari kissed her sister’s soft cheek. ‘How’s that horrible Georgie Porgie treating you now Michael’s had a word?’

‘You’ve seen Michael?’ Meryl’s tone was guarded.

‘Briefly. When I arrived he opened the gate for me then he went off to do some work on the farm.’

Meryl relaxed. ‘Mending fences and such I suppose.’ Meryl sounded knowing though she had no idea what he was doing.

‘Go find him, Meryl love,’ Jessie said. ‘Tell him dinner will be in half an hour, make sure he washes his hands – look out for him as you always do.’ She glanced at Hari. ‘Your sister is so good with Michael, keeps him in his place she does.’ Her tone implied that Hari might be well advised to do the same.

The silence lengthened in the kitchen and then Jessie took a cloth out of a drawer and spread it like a billowing sail over the table.

‘She thinks he’s the sun, the moon and the stars.’ She looked Hari in the eye. ‘We must try not to upset her, the poor child’s had enough upset in her life to last for a very long time.’

Hari was being warned off Michael and she knew it.

‘But Meryl is only fourteen,’ she said, ‘she’ll have crushes many times before she finds the real one.’

Jessie sniffed. ‘She’s nearer fifteen now – keep up girl. And “crushes”, is that what they call it now? Well, let me tell you, Meryl is growing up fast, anyone would in this awful war. And remember, Michael is not yet eighteen, about the same age as you are but not that much older than your sister.’

Hari was silent, digesting what Jessie was saying to her. Jessie was implying that love between Meryl and Michael was not as impossible as it seemed. And yet Hari had been in Michael’s arms, felt the heat of his body heat her own. It wasn’t just lust, she knew it wasn’t.

‘What’s really wrong, Jessie?’ Directness was important.

‘I don’t want silly girls disturbing my Michael. He’s safe here on the farm with me. And with Meryl,’ she added.

‘How could I be a danger to him?’

‘I don’t want him leaving the farm, going into Swansea. He’d be noticed there, some busybody would pick up on his accent.’ She stopped abruptly.

‘Jessie, the authorities don’t know Michael is German – is that it?’

‘Just mind your own business Miss Jones, go home and leave us in peace. You know Meryl is safe down here with me, just go away, forget Michael. He’s not for you – do you understand?’ Jessie’s tone was fierce. Hari faced her.

‘That’s not for you to decide, is it?’

‘So you do have a fancy for him then?’ It was a direct challenge.

‘I don’t know what I feel, I hardly know Michael. You’re making a fuss about nothing.’

‘Am I?’ Jessie didn’t look at her. ‘Well, that’s all right then, isn’t it?’

Later, dusk was closing in over the fields when Hari walked with Meryl at her side towards the jeep. Hari hugged her, realizing Jessie was right, Meryl was filling out, growing up.

‘Bye, little sis. Be good, be careful . . . be safe.’ She climbed in the jeep and drove away. In the mirror she could see Meryl’s face was just a pale unfamiliar blur in the growing darkness. Suddenly she was painfully, very painfully sad.

Fourteen

The house was plain, set back from the road, away from the other small cottages. Kate took a deep breath and glanced at Doreen. ‘This is it then?’