Daughter of Riches (33 page)

Catherine looked at Sophia with utter disdain.

‘I don't need you to tell me what to do,' she said heatedly: ‘ I don't take notice of collaborators!'

The colour rose in Sophia's cheeks and a sharp retort hovered on her lips. But she bit it back. In a way she supposed Catherine had a point. All Sophia could hope was that one day Catherine would come to understand – and forgive.

The following evening Sophia was alone in the cottage trying to alter one of Lola's dresses into a skirt for Catherine when there was a knock on the door. She looked up from her sewing, surprised. Dieter had said he had some kind of extra duty to perform and would probably be late this evening – if he could come at all.

Sophia tucked her needle safely into the material and laid it down on the table hoping desperately it wasn't Bernard at the door. She still hadn't told him about Dieter and she knew it was wrong but somehow she just had not been able to bring herself to do it. Each time she tried the words stuck in her throat and refused to come and she had made do with vague excuses to put him off coming to call on her. She told herself that her untruthfulness was because she hated the thought of hurting him; deep down she knew it was more than that – she couldn't bear him to think badly of her, couldn't bear to see the same look in his eyes that she saw in Catherine's. Now as she got up to answer the door she thought anxiously that if it was Bernard she would have to get rid of him in a hurry or he might still be here when Dieter arrived – and that would provoke a very awkward situation!

She drew the bolt, already trying to work out what she would say. But it wasn't Bernard on the doorstep. It was a German officer whom she had never seen before.

As always the sight of a German uniform made her stomach contract. In that moment two words flashed through her brain: What now?

The German, as if reading her thought, smiled slowly and leaned a hand on the doorpost just level with her head. It was casually done, and obviously intended to put her at her ease, but the gesture grated on Sophia.

‘Yes?' she said shortly. ‘ Did you want something?'

‘Oh dear! That's not a very friendly greeting!' His smile did not waver. ‘ I was hoping to get a warmer welcome here.'

Sophia frowned. ‘ I don't know what you mean by that.'

‘Don't you? Oh come now, I'm sure you do! Aren't you going to ask me in?'

Sophia hesitated. It wasn't wise to cross a German officer and refuse him entry to the house. Somehow she didn't think this one was here on official business but all the same it would be very easy for him to extract revenge if he felt he had been slighted. And she could hardly slam the door because his fingers were in the way – and with squashed fingers he almost certainly would cause trouble for her!

‘Why should I ask you in?' she hedged. ‘I don't know why you are here.'

His smile broadened but it was not a nice smile she thought. Above that grotesquely curving mouth his cheek muscles appeared not to move and there was a fixed glassiness about his eyes.

‘Oh I am sorry,
fraulein
, I did not explain. I have come with a message from Dieter.'

‘From Dieter!' She was startled. Dieter had told her he had kept their meetings secret from his fellow officers. ‘There's nothing wrong is there?'

‘Don't worry,
fraulein
. Let me in and I will tell you everything.'

She moved slightly to one side. He slipped past her with a swift, almost feline movement and stood looking around the kitchen. ‘This is a nice place you have here.' His eyes, like chips of blue glass, came to rest on her. ‘And you, too, are very nice,
fraulein
, very pretty!'

‘Just tell me why you are here,' she said shortly. ‘Dieter is all right, is he?'

The sensuous lips smirked. ‘Oh yes. I should say Dieter is very much all right. He has good taste, I'll say that for him.'

Sophia tossed her head. The compliments were making her even more uncomfortable.

‘You have a message from him you say. What is it?'

The German was prowling round the room, picking up a photograph here, an ornament there, inspecting everything with that glassy blue stare. Then he threw himself down in the easy chair by the fire, stretching out his jack-booted legs and folding his arms behind his head.

‘A message. Did I say that?'

‘Yes, you did.'

‘Hmm. Well, that is not strictly true.'

Sophia was beginning to be really alarmed. It wasn't just that he was a German, it was the way he was looking at her, his tongue flicking over the full lips, and the arrogance of his pose. Sophia began to wish she had slammed the door on his fingers and risked the consequences.

‘If you haven't got a message for me from Dieter what are you doing here?' she demanded.

He slid down a little further in the chair, his tongue flicking again.

‘Why should Dieter have all the fun?'

Sophia had begun to tremble. ‘ I think you had better leave.'

‘Leave?' He laughed shortly. ‘ But I have only just arrived,
fraulein
! Surely you are going to give me a better welcome than this? I can't believe Dieter comes all this way for so little.'

‘How do you know what Dieter comes here for?' she flashed. ‘In fact, how do you know he comes here at all?'

‘Because my dear
fraulein
we followed him. Several of us have thought it very strange that Dieter no longer seems to want our company. So we decided to find out what was claiming his attention. We followed him, and very amusing it was too. The curtains were not quite pulled – ah, but you should be more careful!' He wagged a finger, amused to see the scarlet flush explode in her cheeks. ‘You were too eager, you and Dieter. You did not stop to make sure you could not be seen. So, does that answer your other question – as to how I know why Dieter comes here?'

‘You're no better than a Peeping Tom!' she flared, though she was now trembling violently with outrage as well as fear.

‘Perhaps. And perhaps, for some, it is enough to look. Not though for me. For me, when I have looked, then afterwards I like to … hmm … you do know, don't you, what I mean,
fraulein
?'

‘Will you please go!' Sophia yelled at him. ‘Dieter …'

‘Dieter is delayed. He has extra duties to perform. Let's not worry about Dieter …' His hand shot out, imprisoning her wrist.

‘You are not being very cooperative,
fraulein
. I can see a little persuasion is called for.'

‘Let me go!'

‘Not yet,
fraulein
, not yet. Don't you know how excited you can get a man when you look at him like that?' His free hand was fumbling with his trousers, then he reached out strongly pulling her down into the chair on top of him. For a moment, taken completely by surprise, Sophia found herself lying there on top of him, felt his hands rucking up her skirt and his hot breath on her neck. Then she began to struggle, trying to free herself, beating at him with her hands. His breath was coming harder, he laughed deep in his throat. ‘Wild-cat!' he said in German. He swung himself out of the chair, taking her with him, so that they both fell on to the floor and his strength and the weight of his body made her helpless. One arm was twisted behind her back, wrenching painfully at her shoulder, the other spreadeagled helplessly. As he raised himself to finish undoing his trousers she got the one hand free and clawed at his face; instantly the palm of his hand smashed into her chin and her head cracked back on to the floor.

The blow dazed her; she seemed to be whirling in a world of pain, scarcely aware any more what he was doing to her. Even when he had finished with her she lay for long minutes unable to move from the ungainly position into which she had fallen. Her head was throbbing and so was her body but they were not in unison, the pain jarred and danced a syncopating but totally uncoordinated rhythm. Slowly she eased herself up. The German was lying on the floor beside her, sleek and replete, and the sight of him made bile rise in her throat. She lurched into a sitting position, hatred burning in herlike a cold fire.

It was then that she saw his service revolver lying on the floor. Scarcely knowing what she was doing she snatched at it, turning it in shaking sweat-damp hands to face him.

‘You bastard, will you get out now?' she grated through chattering teeth.

He sat up abruptly and as she saw the alarm in his light eyes she suddenly realised just how easy it would be to kill him. One tiny movement of her index finger and she could blow that handsome hateful face apart. One tiny movement and this German would never terrify or bully or rape ever again.

‘I am going to shoot you,' she said.

She saw a muscle move in his cheek and the twitch of a nerve in his throat. But his voice was very calm, very level.

‘If you shoot me you too will die.'

‘I don't care!' she sobbed. ‘ What do I care about dying?'

‘You don't want to die for something so stupid. You won't shoot me. You can't do it. Now, give the gun to me.' Slowly, very slowly, his hand inched towards hers. ‘ Come on, give it to me.'

The cold eyes met hers unwaveringly and she felt her wrist begin to shake. He was right, she thought suddenly, she couldn't do it. With a muffled sob she let her hand, holding the gun, drop to her side and her head bowed to her chest. Oh Jesus Christ, she couldn't do it! She'd had her chance and she couldn't do it …

At that very moment the door opened and Dieter came in. He stood for a moment, taking in the scene. Sophia wanted to run to him but she could not move. She was very ashamed, suddenly, as if it had all been her fault.

‘What the hell is going on here?' he demanded.

The officer began to babble in German, waving his arms. Sophia could only guess at what he was saying but the thought that he might be trying to excuse himself incensed her.

‘He raped me!' she cried. ‘He got in here by pretending he had a message from you and then he raped me!'

‘Raped? Ha! You asked for it!'

‘How can you say that?' She looked down, saw the gun still in her hand, and turned to Dieter, sobbing. ‘I wanted to shoot him, Dieter. I wanted to kill him. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it!'

‘I see.' Dieter's face was white with rage. ‘This is what your friends were sniggering about, was it? They knew what you had in mind.'

‘They followed you here, Dieter, the other night. They were watching us …' She broke off, suddenly very afraid. Dieter's eyes were blazing, his nostrils flared.

‘You did what?'

Sophia saw the first flicker of alarm in the other German's face. ‘Oh come on, Dieter, can't you take a joke?'

‘A joke? You call this a joke? All right, you bastard, you've got it coming to you.'

‘Who from?' the officer sneered.

‘From me.' Dieter drew his gun, levelling it at his heart.

White hot terror shot through Sophia. ‘Dieter – no! Please – you mustn't!'

‘Why not? I shall do what you did not have the stomach for, Sophia. I am going to kill him.'

‘Dieter – please – no!'

‘You are mad!' the officer blustered. ‘You won't get away with this!'

‘I don't care any more. I am a German, and I am proud of it. At least, I was. Not any more. These last years I have learned to feel ashamed of my birthright, ashamed of my fellow countrymen. Some of the things that have been done have been inhuman. They will not be forgotten for generations. And all the time I have been forced to remain quiet and do what was required of me. Sometimes I have asked myself – how can I live with this? I have tried to do only what I believed to be right but still I am ashamed. The end of the war is coming. Soon we will have to answer – all of us. And when they ask me – what did you do, Dieter? I shall tell them. I shot the man who defiled my lovely Sophia. It was not much but it was the least I could do.'

Kurt laughed harshly. ‘If you shoot me you won't live to tell anyone anything. The Kommandant will see to that.'

‘Then Sophia, she will tell them. She will tell my father and my mother I died because I executed a rapist. Come on, outside, you bastard.'

‘Why don't you do it here?'

‘And have Sophia arrested for complicity? No, she has suffered enough. Outside!'

The gun was in the officer's ribs now, prodding him towards the door.

‘Dieter – don't do this! I don't want you to do it for me!' Sophia caught at his arm. He shook himself free.

‘Just give me his gun
liebchen.
Don't worry, no one will connect you with this.'

‘Please, Dieter – no! I'm all right, really – he didn't hurt me …'

But Dieter was beyond the reach of reason. His gun urged the officer down the path and into the darkness.

‘Go back inside and lock the door!' he called over his shoulder. ‘Go on – do as I tell you!'

Sophia stood in the doorway, hands pressed against her mouth, unable to move or speak as the darkness swallowed them. He wouldn't do it, would he? And then, loud and chilling in the stillness of the night, the shot rang out.

As Sophia stood, frozen with fear and shock, Catherine came running up the path, breathless and frightened. ‘Sophia, what is it? What's going on? There are Germans in the lane. There was a shot.'

Somehow Sophia pulled herself together. Protecting Catherine was all important now. ‘ I don't know. It's none of our business.' She grabbed the frightened child, bundled her inside and slammed the door shut. ‘Draw the curtains. I have some clearing up to do and then we are going to put out the light and go to bed. And whatever we hear outside we are not going to investigate. Do you hear me?'

‘But I don't understand. You know something, don't you? Something happened here tonight.'

Sophia shook her head. It was all too terrible and she did not know where to begin. Besides it was safest for Catherine if she knew nothing.