“
It’s all right lads, they’ve moved off.”
Ieuan started
to move suddenly, digging something sharp and cold into the wall of
earth in front of him. Now that he was moving again I could feel
him crouching, his long legs tangled up underneath him, his head
craned to the side against the confines of the space he was in. He
looked down as a torchlight flashed somewhere behind him. There was
a small, metal pan like you might use for cooking which he was
filling with earth with a tablespoon. When he’d piled the last bit
of soil on top of it he passed it back behind him.
“
Pass us another empty, mun,” he said gruffly.
He felt
exhausted, but there was something steely and angry coating his
heart. When Ieuan looked behind him to find another pan I was
shocked to see a huge line of men all crouched in the badly lit
passage. They were all kinds of ages and all in vests and
underwear, their white garments smeared with the earth that
surrounded them. Every man was digging out beside him, making their
tunnel wider whilst Ieuan pressed on at its head.
“
We’re going to have to stop soon chaps, inspection in twenty
minutes.” A posh kind of voice came echoing down the long
underground dugout to give the warning. “Five more minutes, then
everyone up and back into uniform.”
I wasn’t all
that sure about what was going on, but wherever Ieuan was he and
the other British men around him were trying to tunnel their way
out. He was captured, but alive, and the relief I was feeling would
be nothing compared to how Blod would react to the news I could now
give her. The old cold shiver hit me as thoughts of Blod sitting in
the autumn leaves captured my attention; I left Ieuan in the tunnel
and when my eyes reopened at Ty Gwyn, a huge smile erupted before I
could even speak.
We consulted
Idrys about my visit to Ieuan as soon as we could and he gave us
the good news and the bad: Ieuan would be well-looked after, he was
in no immediate harm, but he was also in a prisoner of war camp.
There would be no way for him to get out until the war was over and
the fact that he was tunnelling was a very dangerous sign. If the
Germans caught him trying to escape, the consequences would be as
severe as we could possibly imagine. It was a wrench not to be able
to tell Mam that her youngest son was alive and well, but Idrys
warned me that she wouldn’t be likely to understand my gift.
“
You young people are more accepting of these things,” he said
to Blod and me in a whisper, “It’s best not to burden Mam with talk
like this. It might upset her something awful.”
Blod went
back to her duties in the household so that I’d have more free time
to check on Henri, Bickerstaff and Ieuan during the day. Mam was
too grateful for the help to question Blod’s change of heart,
putting it down to her ever-altering moods, but she was disturbed
by the way Blod kept suddenly running off into my bedroom to ask me
whispered little questions. I gave her what snippets I could from
my visits to the POW camp and to the Essex barracks, but we had
learned very little except for the fact that Ieuan’s camp was
located somewhere near Toulouse, which Idrys later informed us was
quite far south in France. The fact that he wasn’t in Germany boded
quite well, I thought.
Henri’s
training days were coming to an end and the evening talks between
the boys in the barracks were becoming more sombre by the day. Most
of the soldiers and medics in training in Henri’s living space were
dressed in the same sandy brown uniforms as him and Bickerstaff,
marking them all as ‘Desert Rats’, the new wave of aggression that
was supposedly going to get North Africa under control at last.
Most of the young men in the barracks were, like Henri, enthused
about the prospect of battling alongside heavy artillery and tanks;
it seemed like such weapons would offer them a great deal of
protection. But there were a few agitators, Bickerstaff included,
who were all too keen to remind the others that the Germans had
cannons, shells and tanks of their own.
I didn’t know
whether it was better to be optimistic like Henri or keenly aware
of the dangers like Bickerstaff, so all I could do was urge Henri
to stay friendly with the belligerent doctor in case he needed him
one day soon. For all the faults in his mood, Bickerstaff was an
intelligent man, perhaps too smart for his own good; he would spot
problems and risks where Henri might not. Henri wasn’t keen on the
idea of palling up with the most cynical and unpopular chap in the
barracks, but for my sake he promised he would stick as close to
the doctor as he could.
In return,
however, I had to promise something of my own. It was going to take
the boys two days to cross to their new post in Libya and Henri
made me swear I wouldn’t go poking into his head until they got
there. Now that he had developed a keen sense for when I was
actually there in his mind, I couldn’t even pretend I hadn’t
visited him. I swore I’d keep my word and said a strained goodbye
and good luck to Henri the night before the departure. He drew
another little heart on his page for me, then scribbled
underneath:
Tell Blod to
look out for the post.
***
The news sent
Blod into a frenzy, she practically attacked the postman the next
morning asking repeatedly if there was anything for Ty Gwyn, even
when he’d already gone past the cobble path that led up to the
little white farm house. Idrys was even more anxious for news of
Ieuan; every time he arrived at the house for a meal or a cup of
tea he always came to me before anyone else to ask for an update.
Mam quite often remarked on how popular I had become with everyone,
though I knew she hadn’t the faintest clue as to why.
I wanted to
give Idrys more interesting news, but the life of a prisoner of war
was not half as exciting as I’d expected it to be. The tunnel Ieuan
had been digging had collapsed after a few days, forcing the
prisoners to rethink their plans and start over again in another
direction. Other than that his life was a series of inspections by
official looking Nazis and surly guards interspersed with idle chit
chat amongst fellow airmen and soldiers as they smoked and played
cards, waiting for their next shift to dig a few more inches out of
the ground beneath their feet. I had considered trying to talk to
Ieuan to get a message to him from his family, but Idrys forbade
it, fearful that the Germans might shoot him as a spy if they heard
him talking to an invisible person.
It was a
rainy afternoon, the day before I could visit Henri again, when the
post arrived. Blod squealed at first, but she stomped into the
kitchen and dropped a soggy brown thing into my lap with a huff
moments later.
“
Typical,” she spat, “It’s for you.” She hurricaned out of the
room again instantly.
I looked down
at the marred envelope, reading my name and address in Henri’s
scribbly handwriting. This wasn’t right; he had told Blod to wait
for the letter. I looked up at Mam, her back to me as she did the
washing up, and suddenly two and two made four. I wheeled out of
the kitchen as silently as I could to catch up to Blod.
“
Wait, wait!” I said in a hoarse tone, not wanting Mam to hear
me.
I heaved and
panted to get to Blod before she could march up the stairs,
grabbing the sleeve of her cardigan as I wheeled straight into her
leg. She kicked me away with a loud ‘ouch’ but I shushed her,
beckoning her to come close whilst I spoke in a low whisper.
“
Henri and I speak all the time. We don’t need letters. I
think this is really for you.”
Bickerstaff
clearly didn’t want to raise Mam’s suspicions, but it would look
perfectly normal for Henri to be sending me a note before he was
shipped off. Blod’s eyes widened excitedly and she took the letter
back, holding it tightly with both hands. Without a word she
scampered up the stairs and I heard the door to her bedroom slam
behind her. I smiled, proud of Henri and pleased for Blod.
As I made an
awkward turn in the black and white hall the wide front door burst
open with a bang. I was horrified to find the violent noise was
made by Leighton, who was huffing and puffing with a round red
face. Before I could even speak he found me and grabbed my arms,
shaking his head in amazement.
“
Kit! Kit!” he heaved, hardly breathing.
“
Close the door Leigh it’s freezing!” I ordered immediately,
wrenching myself out of his frantic grip.
Leighton
shook his head repeatedly, clutching at his chest and gasping. “Kit
it’s… it’s…. I’ve run all the way from… She’s coming! She’s coming
now!”
“
Who is?” I demanded, rolling my eyes.
My little
brother grinned as he got back his breath.
“
Mum!”
***
Mam and Mum
were a funny sight in a room together. My mother sat upright with
her finely curled hair, gripping her tea mug and sipping the liquid
gratefully as it steamed against the cold air around her. Mam
relaxed, her face rosy from her day’s housework, hair flapping out
of her practical bun in wild directions. And yet they smiled
together and talked incessantly, like they might have known each
other for years. I supposed quietly to myself that if Mum had been
visiting us in Leighton’s head, she probably knew a lot about Mam
already, perhaps more than she ought to. I watched them together
for a moment more before I properly entered the room, my crutches
resting on my knees as I wheeled in.
“
Go on then,” Mum said, taking in a big breath, “Let me see
you.”
Proudly and
expertly I rose from my chair and onto my walking aids with
relative ease. Shoving the cushioned parts under my arms I was able
to walk right up to Mum and look down at her where she sat, beaming
my best golden smile. She took my face in her hands and admired me
with a grin that matched my own. I knew she had probably seen me on
my feet before in her mental visits, but there was something
different about the experience of actually being here and feeling
her pat me on the back for my success.
“
My goodness,” she mouthed, looking to Mam to find her beaming
too, “I must thank that doctor of yours, dear.”
My smile
flickered away. “You can’t Mum,” I said sadly, “he’s in Africa
now.”
“
Poor soul,” Mam whispered, “I do hope he’ll be all right. And
Henri too, of course.”
Though the
mood was a little more sombre, Mum still quirked an eyebrow at
me.
“
Yes,” she said slowly, cracking a tiny smile, “We mustn’t
forget Henri.”
“
Brave boys, both of them,” Mam said, suddenly rising to clear
away the tea cups. She was holding something back in her voice; it
quivered like a dam waiting to burst. It would be a long time
before those tense moments were a thing of the past, I
knew.
“
Shall we go sit in the other room Mum?” I suggested, eyeing
Mam carefully where she was scrubbing the life out of a
cup.
“
That’s a great idea love,” Mum replied, “Come and join us
when you’re ready, Gladys?”
Mam nodded,
forcing a smile back to her face. “Yeah of course, Gail love,” she
choked, “You’ll stay for your dinner tonight, won’t you?”
“
If you’ll have me,” Mum answered with a humble
smile.
***
It was a
well-known fact that Mam would feed anybody who came to Ty Gwyn, so
she only bobbed in and out of the sitting room whilst Mum sat with
Leighton and me, joining our conversation in between the mashing of
potatoes and the roasting of meat. Leigh had run into our mother
walking up the big hill to reach the farm house and then run all
the way on to be the first one to tell us all of her arrival, so
after he had heard the tales of the on-going bombing in London he
abruptly fell asleep on the old sofa next to Mum. She put her coat
over him and shuffled away a little to be nearer to me.
“
I have to go back right away tonight, sweetheart,” she warned
quietly, “but I came as soon as I could manage. I know I’ve left
you for so long without any answers.” She rubbed her pale hands
together slowly. “But it would have been far too risky to put
anything in a letter.”
I frowned,
trying to organise my thoughts to work out what questions I really
needed answering. There was the big one, of course, the D word, the
one that I still didn’t think she would tell me about. I decided on
building up to that slowly.
“
So have you ever worked in a bicycle factory, or was that all
a big lie?”
Mum gave me
an apologetic grin. “I don’t even know how to ride a bicycle
darling, much less manufacture its parts.”