The Lie (29 page)

‘He will be welcome to live with us when Daniel comes home.'

Emily nodded. Alice was determined to be positive, and perhaps she was right. After all, no one knew for sure where Daniel was or what had happened to him.

‘You come now,' Mikkos said, grabbing Daniel's arm. ‘The Germans come, we hide in the cellars.'

It wasn't the first time they'd received a visit from a German patrol. Mikkos and his friends had been causing some trouble in the area, blowing up a train carrying German supplies, and attacking a convoy. Daniel had helped in the attack on the convoy. He had enjoyed being a part of it, but he knew they were playing on dangerous ground. You didn't do things like this without risk. After all, they were breaking the terms of the Greek surrender, and the consequences would be harsh if they were caught.

‘We are endangering your family staying here,' Daniel said, as Mikkos took him down into the dark cellars that connected to tunnels that ran beneath the mountains for some distance. Wine had been stored here before the war and it was very cold but dry. ‘We should find somewhere else to run the group from.'

‘They know the risks,' Mikkos said. ‘Besides, the Germans are stupid. They will never find us here.'

It was true enough, because the tunnels emerged at a secret location further down the hillside, and by the time a patrol found their hiding place they would be long gone – but the Stavros family were left behind at the ancient farmhouse to bear the brunt of the German anger.

Daniel knew that other men and women had been shot for helping the saboteurs. He just hoped it wouldn't happen to the family he had begun to know and like.

Sometimes, when he thought of his own family, of Alice and the way it had been on their wedding night, he wished that he had simply abandoned that damned truck and caught a lift with the retreating troops. He wondered how his wife was coping, and whether they had told her he was missing. What would she do if she thought he wasn't coming home? His worst nightmare was that one day he would get home and discover that she had found someone else.

‘Frances has been worried about you,' Emily said, as they were having dinner that evening in the big warm kitchen of Henry's ancient farmhouse. It had huge pine dressers at either end and a homely, comfortable feeling. ‘Is your cough any better?'

‘No, he sometimes keeps us awake all night with it,' Mary said, and pulled a face at her husband. ‘I've tried making him go to the doctor but he won't. Stubborn as a mule, our Henry.'

‘I can buy a bottle of cough medicine from the chemist for all the good it will do,' Henry said, and frowned. ‘It's just a chesty thing I picked up last winter, Mary. It will clear up in time.'

Emily thought it ought to have cleared up now that the weather was so much better, but there was no point in nagging her brother.

‘Is everything all right with the farm?' she asked. ‘Any forms you want me to fill in for you before I leave?'

‘Things are all right for the moment. Dan sorted us out for a while. There are a couple of forms you could do for me,' Henry said, giving her a grateful look. ‘And you could write to the bank for me, tell them I can't manage to pay all the interest this month but I'll make it up when the harvest comes in.'

‘Yes, of course,' Emily agreed. ‘I haven't seen Clay for months – is he managing all right?'

‘I don't know and I don't want to,' Henry said, and looked annoyed. ‘He took advantage of us and I haven't forgiven him for it, Emily. That land was the best we had and if we'd kept it all together we might have broken even this year. He got off scot-free and it isn't fair.'

‘Now you've got him off,' Mary said bringing them a cup of tea. ‘We don't mention Clay in this house, Emily. It's off-limits for Henry.'

‘Sorry.' Emily got up to help her sister-in-law carry the dirty plates to the scullery for washing. ‘I thought that was all sorted out?'

‘It never will be as far as Henry is concerned,' Mary said. ‘He blames Clay and Margaret for all his troubles, though that isn't quite fair. To be honest, Henry isn't a manager. He works all the hours God gives, but he can't handle the business side. Your father was the one who did all that.'

‘Yes, I see,' Emily said. ‘It isn't easy for Henry with all these restrictions and regulations, Mary. But if he can hang on it will get better when the war is over.'

‘If he can,' Mary said, and looked worried. ‘I suppose he'll manage somehow – but sometimes I think it will be the death of him – and then what shall we do?'

Emily didn't know how to answer her. It was clear that things were far from right with her brother and his family, but there wasn't a great deal she could do about it at the moment. Perhaps she would have more luck with her younger brother.

‘We are all worried about you, Connor,' Emily said, as they walked back to the house later that evening. ‘Frances, Alice, and me – and you don't want to give Henry more grief, do you? He already has too much to do.'

‘You might have been concerned, and perhaps Alice,' Connor said, ‘but the others don't care what I do. Frances is only bothered about the baby, and Henry has Mary and his children.'

‘But you know he is worried about the farm, don't you?'

‘Yeah – that's Clay's and Margaret's fault,' Connor said. ‘She was greedy after Dad died, and Clay helped her. He wanted her knickers off  . . . that's why he took her side.'

‘Connor!' Emily stopped and looked at him. ‘Where did you get that from?'

‘I heard one of the men talking to Henry about it. They saw Daniel and Clay having a fight and it was over Margaret – because Clay made her do it against her will and she made Daniel pay her money to keep quiet.'

‘That's a wicked thing to say, Connor!'

‘It's the truth. Henry told him he'd known something was going on and made him promise not to repeat it to anyone else.'

‘Are you sure you heard right?'

‘Yeah. I was behind the hedge. They didn't know I was there. I was trying to catch a frog and I'd got down in the ditch, and I heard it all. Clay raped Margaret and she was going to have him arrested so Dan paid her to let him off.'

Emily was silent. She'd always known that Dan had changed his mind about the house for a reason, and she'd suspected it had something to do with Margaret and Clay, but she hadn't realized it was anything like this.

‘That is horrible,' she said at last. ‘I don't know if it is true, but even if it is we don't want anyone else to know. I want you to promise me that you will never mention it to anyone – not even Peter.'

‘I haven't,' Connor said. ‘I wouldn't care about Clay but I thought it might get Dan into trouble.'

‘Yes, it might,' Emily agreed. ‘If he covered up something like that  . . . but it may not be true, Connor. You know what people are for tales in a village.'

‘This one is true,' Connor said. ‘But I shan't tell. I care about Dan.' He looked at his sister and she saw a suspicion of tears in his eyes. ‘Everyone says he's dead but he isn't, is he?'

‘I don't know,' Emily admitted. ‘Alice doesn't think so and I'm praying he isn't, Connor. It is possible that he is a prisoner of war or something. It is possible that we shall hear he has turned up one of these days.'

‘Dan said I could live with him and Alice when he came home.'

‘I know, Alice told me something like that,' Emily said. ‘Are you unhappy living with Frances?'

‘I don't mind it,' Connor said. ‘But I would rather be with Dan or you.'

‘Would you like to come and stay with me in the holidays? I'm setting up a home for wounded soldiers and we need lots of help. Would you come and help me for a few weeks, Connor?'

‘Can I really?' He stared at her, and she saw his eagerness.

‘Yes, of course you can. There are lots of things you can do if you are willing to work.'

‘I don't mind working. I used to help Dad on the land, and sometimes I give Henry a hand on the farm – but he nags all the time.'

‘I shan't nag you,' Emily promised. ‘But I shall be grateful if you can help me during the holidays.'

‘Thanks, Emmy,' Connor said, and grinned at her. ‘And I'll try not to worry Frances if I can help it.'

Emily smiled as they started walking again. ‘Well, I don't suppose you do anything
very
terrible,' she said. ‘Is it fun watching for the planes to go out and come back?'

Conner gave her a conspiratorial look. ‘We know which are Peter's lodgers,' he told her, ‘and they waggle their wings to us when they come back so that we know they are safe.'

‘That's nice,' Emily said. ‘Our home will be ready very soon now and I dare say you will like meeting our soldiers when you come and stay  . . .'

Twelve

A
lice felt the ache in her back intensify. She'd had a niggling pain all night in her stomach but she hadn't thought it was the baby. Now, suddenly, it ripped through her and she gasped. She'd known it had to be any day now, but somehow she hadn't expected it to hurt quite as much. She went into the kitchen, where her mother was scrubbing potatoes at the sink.

Mrs Robinson turned to look at her and frowned. ‘Started, has it?' she said, and began to wipe her hands. ‘I'd best get some kettles on the boil then, and I'll give your father a shout, tell him to fetch the doctor and the midwife.'

Alice gasped, perching on the edge of a chair. She hadn't been able to sit properly for days. ‘Does it always hurt this bad, Mum?'

‘Pretty much,' her mother told her in a no-nonsense way. ‘You'll be worse before you're better, but no sense in worrying over it, Alice. Babies come when they're ready and not before. You might as well walk about a bit. It will be hours yet and it won't help going to bed. I found it better to walk, it takes your mind off things.'

Alice bent double as she felt the pain rip through her again, and then there was a warm, stinging sensation between her thighs. She could feel something trickling down her legs.

‘I think my waters have burst, Mum.'

‘Right, that's a good sign,' Mrs Robinson said. ‘Maybe it's going to be quicker for you than it was for me, love. Here, take these towels and go through on the bed. I'll give your father a shout.'

Alice took the towels her mother had given her. She'd had a rubber sheet on her bed for days now, and the towels wouldn't be needed, but she instinctively did as her mother told her. She just hoped that it would all be over soon, and she would have Daniel's son to hold in her arms.

Oh, God, she wished he was here now. She had never felt such pain in her life, and she was terrified, even though she knew that what was happening to her was natural. But no one had told her it would hurt this much.

It seemed to Alice that the pain was never ending. Her screams had made her hoarse and she was exhausted by the time the baby was finally born, even though her mother and the midwife kept telling her how quick and easy it had been, and how lucky she was.

Alice didn't feel lucky until she looked at the child they had put into her arms, and then a flood of love poured out of her and tears trickled down her cheeks as she kissed him. It had been worth the pain to have him, to know that she had Dan's son to love and care for. He was hers, and she would have a part of her husband for ever, even if Dan never came back.

But he would, he would, she told herself, cradling the child to her protectively. She didn't know where Dan was or what he was doing, why the Army didn't seem to be sure what had happened to him, but in her heart she knew he was alive and thinking of her.

‘Wherever you are, I love you,' she whispered, ‘and our son loves you, too. Come home to us, Dan. Please come home. We need you. We need you so much.'

It was September now and Dan had gone missing in May, and still she didn't know for sure what had happened to him. The letter from his commanding officer had told her that he had been driving a truck behind a long convoy of retreating British soldiers, but when the men were taken on board ship, he wasn't there. No one seemed to know what had happened, except that there was a report that his truck had broken down and when last seen he had been trying to repair it.

No one had seen him killed. He had simply disappeared.

Oh, Dan, Dan, she thought, kissing her child. Where are you, my love? Where are you? She had been married just after Christmas in 1940, and in a few months it would be Christmas again. How long would it be before she knew whether she was a wife or a widow?

Connor loved the train journey to Hampshire. It was the first time he'd been away on his own and he was excited at the prospect of seeing where Emily lived now. She collected him at the station in a large black car that she told him belonged to Lord Vane.

‘He lets me use it sometimes, because he gets more petrol coupons than he needs. He seems a bit severe when you first meet him, Connor, but he's not too bad.'

‘I can't stop too long,' Connor told her. ‘Henry needs me to help with the harvest before I go back to school, but he said I should come because it would be good experience for me.'

‘Well, I am really pleased to have you. You can do lots of things to help me – if you don't mind visiting the men?'

Connor nodded. He was a bit worried about seeing some of the men. He'd seen one soldier in the village with a leg missing. Some of the other boys had stared but Connor had felt sorry for him. He'd asked if he could so anything to help but he'd been told to clear off. He hoped he could do something useful, because he couldn't help thinking about Dan. Maybe he was in pain and needing help  . . .

Dan smoked a cigarette as he lay on his back, looking down at the fertile valley below. The hillside was barren in places, but he was sheltered from view by some scrubby trees that somehow clung to the rock. Before the retreat from Athens, he had found Greece rather lovely, a place he might like to bring Alice to one day, but here on this remote farm he had learned how hard the people lived, and how easy he'd had it before the war. He was beginning to feel as if he'd been here for months, picking up enough of the language to understand a bit of what was going on around him.