“
My, my,” he said when the story was told, “you do get around
my girl. But this is brilliant; we’ve been trying to get a psychic
contact in that camp for weeks. You could help us! Ow!”
Dad suddenly
held his hands up over his ears like something loud had happened,
but the truck kept rolling along on the quiet road. He grumbled to
himself as he rubbed at his head, suddenly holding his hands
up.
“
Okay, okay,” he said, looking back to Henri and me,
“apparently your mother thinks that’s a very bad idea.”
Mum was there
in his head. We three were all together for the strangest of
reunions.
Well tough,
I said to Henri,
I’ll be there whether you like it or
not.
Henri chose
not to repeat my words exactly. “Would it really be so dangerous
for Kit to just pass a few messages?” he inquired.
My father sat
and listened quietly for a moment, then sighed. “She’s not a baby
any more, Gail,” he reasoned. I could well imagine my mother’s
heated replies going straight into his brain. “She was bound to
come into this sooner or later, at least I’ll be there to guide
her.”
There was
more silence, then Dad slowly started to grin. He had always won
the arguments at home too. He gave Henri and me the thumbs up, I
could feel Henri smiling, his chest bathed in relief.
Told you nothing would stop me,
I
whispered to him. His smile widened.
“
Oi,” said my dad, pointing a finger at us, “no lovey-dovey
talk while I’m sat here. This is serious business. You kids will
have to do as you’re told if we’re going to make this op a
success.”
“
We will sir,” Henri answered for us both, “just tell us what
to do.”
Dad nodded at
something we couldn’t hear. “All right,” he said to Mum, “yes
dear.” Then he turned to us, his dark eyes glowing in the dim
interior of the truck. “We’ll be at the meeting point soon. The
plan’s going to be mostly in French. Do you speak any?” I knew he
was talking to Henri, who shook his head. “In that case you just
watch and nod your head enthusiastically. I’ll translate it all for
you two later on. Shall we say five o’clock Kit?”
I’ll be there,
I promised. Henri
repeated my words, still smiling.
“
See you then,” said my father, winking as he gave me his old
familiar grin.
I could
hardly process how I felt when I returned to Ieuan’s room at Ty
Gwyn. Everything in my world had collided in one big jumble,
filling my head with all sorts of new ideas that didn’t marry well
with the old ones. I had resented my father for more than two years
for his abrupt departure, but now so much of his sudden leaving
made sense that I couldn’t make peace with those old feelings of
rage. What’s more he’d stood up for me, given me the chance to do
what Mum was so desperate to keep me away from. Mum, I now
realised, already had one person she loved exposed to the horrors
of war every day of his life, I was starting to understand why she
was afraid of me going the same way.
I rushed onto
my crutches and out of my room, intending to find Idrys and tell
him the good news, when I found Leighton sitting alone at the top
of the stairs. He had his head on his knees and a slump in his
shoulders. I clonked my crutch to let him know I was there. When he
turned to face me his looks were pale and confused.
“
Are you all right Leigh?” I asked.
I wanted to
sit down beside him on the top step but it was a little too
ambitious a move. I had visions of toppling down the stone
staircase and landing with a crunch at the bottom, so I settled for
reaching down to pat his head before edging away again gingerly.
Leighton took the hint and followed me back to my room, sitting
down on the bed with me.
“
Blod and Doctor B are snogging,” he said with a ghastly look
on his face, “It’s disgusting.”
“
I don’t want to know,” I laughed, patting his knee. “That’s
not what’s upset you is it? I know the atmosphere’s a bit funny
today, but everyone’s very busy with the wedding.” Not to mention
the dam full of Price family secrets that was fit to burst and
flood Ty Gwyn.
Leigh shook
his head. He looked more thoughtful than I had ever seen him,
usually my little brother was fairly empty-headed, concerned only
with where and when his next meal was coming and how best to play
and fill up the time until it was served. Today he looked pensive
and a little sad. I hugged him to me and he wrapped his arm around
my back.
“
We’ll see Mum soon,” I offered, “You can have the day off
school for the ceremony, you know.”
“
That’ll be good,” he mumbled against my side.
“
What’s up?” I asked again, “You can tell me Leigh. I won’t be
cross.”
He shook his
head and pulled away. “I think I had a funny turn, that’s all. I
feel better now.”
“
It wasn’t a fever, was it?” I questioned warily, thinking of
Mum and her little visits to his mind.
“
No,” he said certainly. I breathed a sigh of relief. “It
doesn’t matter.”
He got up to
leave and gave me a smile, but it looked a little forced. I caught
him by the wrist before he could escape.
“
Tell me if you feel like that again,” I urged him, “Don’t
keep it secret.”
“
Course not,” he replied; smiling a bit more genuinely, “We
don’t have secrets, apart from you thinking I don’t know that you
kissed Henri. A lot.”
“
You little git!” I shouted with a laugh, but he was already
running away from me.
I sat
giggling on the bed until a guilty kind of sadness washed over me.
We don’t have secrets, he had said. But I did. Big secrets. Tears
threatened behind my eyes as I realised I was just like Mum and
Dad, hiding everything from Leigh, pushing him out and ignoring him
when I needed to. It was easy to do. Actually, it was so easy I
hadn’t realised how I had lied to my brother every day of his
little life, spied on him, even messed with his head when I was
younger. I made a silent vow to myself that I would give Leighton
the truth after the wedding, once Mum was away again and couldn’t
interfere. He deserved to be prepared for the madness that awaited
him in his future.
***
The plot to
help the escaping prisoners of war was simple and it would be
highly effective if the whole thing came off according to plan. Dad
had been taking it in shifts to dig out the sturdy tunnel with
other members of the Free French Resistance, those who called
themselves Gaullists because they believed in the political leader
Charles De Gaulle. The tunnel was secured with wooden splints,
poles, girders and anything else that had been donated to the cause
by collaborating villagers. It began in the barn of a farm not too
far from the camp itself, the place where Henri had been taken to
the meeting, and in another day’s time it would connect with the
underground attempts that had been made by the Wing Commander and
his men under the floorboards of their bunk house.
That was, if
I did my part of the operation correctly. It had become my job to
go to Ieuan and tell him that Dad and the Gaullists would be using
a bird call underground to let them know when they were close to
making the tunnels connect. That way the men in the camp would know
which way to dig. The only real potential problem with the plan was
if Ieuan didn’t believe the voice in his head. If I wasn’t
convincing enough and he threw a fit or thought he was going mad,
it might alert the German guards and the whole operation could go
up in smoke. A tangible pressure lined the back of my throat,
making me feel queasy at the prospect of being the sole reason that
everything went wrong, but I agreed confidently to play my part in
the plan.
The time came
to do my part quite late the next evening. I found Ieuan sitting at
a table with some of the other prisoners with a handful of playing
cards that he wasn’t looking at. Occasionally one of the men threw
a card down, but none of them appeared to be playing a proper game.
They were all watching the clock above the door to their barracks
and looking out at the silhouette of an armed soldier standing
right outside their door. I had never seen the solider there
before. Something was wrong.
“
Right chaps, lights out.” The Wing Commander was standing by
a little brass switch. “Into bed until the evening inspection’s
passed.”
The captured
fighters moved as one, obediently throwing themselves into their
beds. Ieuan wriggled out of his uniform under the covers and
screwed up his trousers and jacket, shoving them into a pack that
was waiting under the bed. The lights flickered off. All was still.
I took my opportunity to begin.
Mam wouldn’t
like you treating your clothes that way, Ieuan.
He jumped
like most people did when they first heard my echoing tone in their
mind. The fellow on the bunk above Ieuan’s told him to shush. He
lay back down staring up at the underside of that bunk, but now
every muscle in his body was pulled into tense knots, nerves
trickled like an electric river up and down his sides.
Don’t talk,
just listen, or the others will think you’ve gone mad.
I felt him
let out a tiny laugh. He clenched his fists.
I know, I
know that this is strange. But don’t you know my voice? It’s Kit.
I’m here in your room at Ty Gwyn.
Ieuan’s face
was screwed up in thought; he rubbed his chin where I felt a layer
of ginger fuzz had been growing. Suddenly the door to the pitch
black bunk house opened and Ieuan closed his eyes, plunging us into
further darkness. I heard a set of footsteps echoing around the
beds, the familiar click of jackboots that I wished I didn’t
recognise so well.
Bloody Germans,
I told Ieuan,
but don’t worry. I know about the Resistance
digging in to help you. I’m here to help too.
Being told
not to worry didn’t seem to do anything calming for the body I was
in. Ieuan had started to sweat, his heart forcing out rapid beats.
The footsteps of the inspecting solider walked away again and soon
after the door closed. Ieuan opened his eyes again, now adjusted
enough to the dark for me to make out other soldiers climbing
silently out of their beds. Ieuan did the same, but his legs were
now shaking as he put his bare feet into his boots and picked up
his pack of clothes.
Please don’t be scared,
I tried in a
calm tone,
you’re not going mad. I’m the
one with the strange abilities, not you. You’ll be fine after this.
I’ll never put words in your head ever again, I swear.
Okay?
He nodded a
little in the darkness and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“
Price, you lead us in,” the WC said.
Ieuan gulped
and saluted the superior man, then marched to the very rear corner
of the bunk house where the opening to the concealed tunnel was. In
the dark I could just make out that the other men had removed the
floorboards in the space, leaving a gaping pit below which Ieuan
leapt into. He landed on crumbly earth, his body still
shaking.
The
Resistance are going to give a bird call so you know which way to
dig.
He didn’t
respond, but he set off with purpose, crawling down into a wide
chamber before entering a tunnel slightly to his left. I could feel
its damp freshness wetting his skin as he crawled in, picking up a
spoon and a tray as he passed by its entrance. The murmurs of other
men behind him started to pick up.
They’re counting on you Ieuan,
I
said happily,
so listen for the
birds.
Again he
showed no sign of response, but continued deep into the murky
tunnel, his knees scratching on exposed stones. When he reached the
tunnel’s end he stabbed his spoon into the wall with great force
and little but a second later there came a squawking like the cry
of a crow. Ieuan’s ears twitched, he looked around for the source
of the noise. It was fairly loud; Dad had said he was sure they
were very close to the desired bunk house.
Dig Ieuan,
I encouraged,
dig towards it.
Ieuan’s
nerves were as shaky as ever, but on he dug. The crow called again
now and then, getting louder and louder until I was sure it was
right beside our heads. In the darkness a loud scrape like that of
a shovel caught my attention somewhere near Ieuan’s hands.
They’re here
for you, they’re breaking through.