by Lou Kuenzler
Through the thick drizzle she heard a scream of breaks and a hiss of steam.
“It’s working,” she cried. “See!”
The train seemed to be slowing down at last.
She waved her flag one more time and leapt towards the safety of the bank. But her foot slipped on the wet rail as she jumped.
She heard her own voice scream – as if it was someone else very far away – and everything seemed to go into slow motion as she fell. Sharp pain seared through her knee as she hit the track. She tried to scramble to her feet, but her legs were caught up in the hem of the long mackintosh and she struggled like a fly in a web. She looked up and saw the train looming down on her – a roaring, rattling mass of flying sparks and flashing metal.
“Help!” she screamed. And she felt a hand grab her collar. She was whirled through the air so fast, everything was a blur.
Next thing she knew, she was lying on the wet grass and the German airman was staring down at her. The train had finally screeched to a halt. It was juddering and shuddering on the rails, shivering like an angry iron stallion, just a few inches from where she lay.
“We did it!” she murmured. The train had been stopped – they had prevented the crash. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a long, deep breath. By some miracle, she was still alive. All because the German airman had pulled her from the tracks.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You saved my life.”
But, as she lifted her head, she saw that the young man had gone. He had vanished, melting away into the smoke and rain.
Edie was still trembling as the driver jumped down from the train. She had a big gash on her knee and stood, leaning on Gus’s shoulder.
“What the blazes did you kids think you were doing?” roared the engine driver. “It’s an offence to stop a train … not to mention how you could have been killed!”
“But … ” said Edie weakly. She really couldn’t find the words to explain. “There’s a plane … ” She waved her hand up the line in the direction of the wreckage.
“A what?” snapped the driver. Passengers were leaning out of the carriages now, staring down the line.
“A plane,” said Gus. “Or part of one, at least.”
“He’s right,” cried the sooty-faced fireman, who had jumped down, still holding his shovel from heaving coal into the engine, and run to the bend in the track. “I can see it. It’s blocking the whole bleeding line too. We’d have all been goners if we’d hit that!”
Word seemed to travel fast then, and all the passengers leaning out of the window began to clap and cheer. “These kids saved the train!” she heard a sailor in a white hat shout. Edie steadied herself against Gus’s shoulder. She tried to smile, but still felt a little sick.
“I owe you an apology,” said the driver, when he had been to look at the wreckage for himself. “You youngsters saved a lot of lives today, and no mistake.” He shook them both by the hand. “Without your quick thinking, there would have been a terrible catastrophe.”
Gus cleared his throat. “Thank you, but we were only doing our duty in a time of war,” he said in a stiff little voice.
“Oh, dear!” A laugh escaped from Edie’s lips. She couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the shock or the throbbing in her ears or the pain in her knee, but it suddenly seemed terribly funny that Gus was trying to be so serious and sounding so grown up.
The engine driver looked at her as he wiped his brow with his sleeve. “You all right there, Miss?”
“Never better,” said Edie. But that only made her laugh even more. Then suddenly she wasn’t laughing, she was crying and her nose was running and she was biting her lip.
“Sorry!” she said to Gus. She knew how he hated a fuss, but she saw that his eyes were shiny with tears too.
“Better get you home, I think,” said the driver, and he motioned towards the engine. All the passengers began to clap and cheer again as Gus and Edie turned around.
Edie swallowed hard.
“Thank you!” she said. “Thank you very much.”
Gus was blinking a little and mumbling something else about honour and duty. This time she didn’t laugh. Instead she gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. They had done it. They had saved the train, all by themselves … except it wasn’t by themselves, of course. The German airman had been there too.
Edie felt her stomach tighten with anxiety. She glanced along the edge of the tracks, searching for any sign of him. She saw Gus looking too, his eyes scanning the trees on the bank. But neither of them said a word.
She knew they should raise the alarm. There was an enemy airman loose in the countryside. He was German, and everyone said the Germans were bad. But he had saved her life. He had saved hundreds of lives. He could have hidden in the bushes or fled, leaving them to stop the train alone. But he had stayed to help them. He might be the enemy, but he was a good man too, she was sure of that.
Her head was spinning, but in spite of the twisting worry in her stomach, she saw that it had turned into a beautiful day. It had stopped raining at last and pale morning sun was breaking through the clouds, making everything sparkle where it was still wet.
“Hop up quick,” said the driver and before Edie could say another word, he helped her scramble into the cab of the train. The step was so high she wouldn’t have been able to climb in by herself even if she didn’t have a sore knee. The driver gave Gus a bunk-up too and he squeezed in beside her on a little metal seat, next to the pit of roaring coals that drove the engine.
“I’ll need to propel the train backwards to the station and warn them,” shouted the driver above all the noise and clatter of the cab. “It’s not an easy business – especially with all these carriages. But the sooner we get back there, the sooner they can telegraph for help.”
He was already turning nobs and twisting dials, which hissed steam as the fireman shovelled coals.
Gus’s eyes were wide as he stared at all the levers and pistons.
“What’s that one for?” he asked, leaping to his feet as soon as the train was chugging backwards.
“That’s the injector,” hollered the driver. “It fills up the boiler, see? And this here’s the automatic brake… ”
While they were all looking at the engine and leaning out of the windows to stare down the line, Edie rolled up the edge of her sodden nightdress to examine her knee.
It wasn’t too bad, really. Just a deep cut. She’d had worse when she’d skidded in the playground on ice, in the terrible cold winter they’d had this year. Being as clumsy as she was, Edie was never without a scab or a bruise somewhere on her legs and knees.
She realized she was still holding a strip of white parachute silk. Nobody had asked them how they had made the flags – not yet, at least, although there were bound to be questions later. She tied the material tight around her leg like a bandage. It would stop any bleeding. Then she pulled her nightie back down over her knee.
A moment later, the train screeched backwards into the station. Everybody began to shout and there was a great commotion up and down the platform as news passed back and forward.
The driver leapt down and helped Edie and Gus from the cab. Within minutes signals had been changed and emergency calls sent out so that every train coming from north and south and stations all along the line had been warned that the track was not safe.
Perky was on the platform too, almost dancing with excitement at all the drama. “Drawn to disaster like a wasp to jam,” as his roly-poly aunty Patsy said, tweaking him by the ear.
“They’ve found the rest of the plane,” said Perky, when he had finished congratulating them and slapping them both on the back. “Smashed to smithereens in Bailey’s Wood. Aunty’s got the pony and trap outside; she’ll take us down to see it, if you like?”
“Oh!” Edie was still in a daze. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go anywhere near the crash site just yet. Seeing the plane plunge into the trees from a distance had shaken her up badly enough. The thought
of being up close to the wreckage made her shiver. Gus seemed to hesitate for a moment now too.
“Perhaps I should take you home instead? You must have had a terrible shock,” said the postmistress kindly.
“Erm… ” Edie faltered for a moment, but Perky was already bustling them along the platform.
“Come on! How often do you get the chance to see a thing like this?” he said. “They reckon the plane might’ve been hit by an ‘ack-ack’ anti-aircraft gun in Maidbridge and tried to limp back to the coast. But then they got lost in the storm.” He beamed at Gus and Edie. “Who says all the excitement’s down in London, eh?”
“In you pop, then, if you’re sure you’re all right,” said his aunty Patsy. She seemed excited to see the crash too. A chubby grey pony, as round and roly-poly as she was herself, was standing between the shafts of a cart outside. “I hope you don’t mind a bit of squeeze.” She pointed to a sack full of letters and parcels. “I’ve got all my deliveries over Marlow Bridge way to do, yet.”
And before Edie knew it, they were on their way.
News travelled fast and most of the village seemed to have come to the wood to see the German plane.
Chunks of twisted wreckage were strewn between the trees. People scrambled amongst the debris, chattering and calling out to one another: “There’s a wheel here!” or “Look at this! I’ve found a piece of wing.” It reminded Edie of holidaymakers rock-pooling at the beach. Some people had even brought picnic breakfasts and flasks of tea.
Edie wrapped the mackintosh tightly around her, so that nobody could see she was still in her nightdress underneath. Any time someone spotted her or Gus, they shook them warmly by the hand.
“We’re all very proud of you for saving the train like that,” said Reverend Greaves.
“That we are,” agreed Mr Hodges, the butcher. “Mind and send your aunt to see me. Reckon I might have a nice bit of steak tucked away. Dinner for heroes, is steak.”
“Thank you,” said Edie. But she didn’t feel like a hero. Not any more. All she could think about was the airman. Surely they ought to have told someone about him straight away. By now, he could be halfway to Maidbridge. He could have slipped away on to the moors where nobody could ever track him down. Worse still, he could be making plans to blow up a railway bridge… But if he was going to do that, why would he have helped them save the train?
Her head was pounding and her stomach felt worse. She knew the longer they left it to raise the alarm, the more trouble there would be in the end. Yet all she could think about was how brave and kind the airman had been.
Beside her, Gus looked pale and sick. He was biting his lip.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered. “We ought to say something.”
“Shut up, can’t you?” Gus hissed. They were only standing a few feet away from Captain Crowther who had gathered together some of the Home Guard. Len Snigson was leaning against a tree, smoking the stubby end of a cigarette.
“Listen up, men,” the colonel boomed. “It appears a number of bodies have been found amongst the wreckage.” He nodded his head towards the burnt-out shell of the cockpit in a clearing on the other side of the trees.
Edie could see Reverend Greaves with his head bowed saying a prayer.
“Serves them right! Sizzled like German sausage.” Len Snigson laughed, taking a long draw on his cigarette.
Edie shuddered again. What a horrible man he was.
“Put that thing out and stand up properly. You’re on duty now,” barked Colonel Crowther.
Len sighed and rolled his eyeballs, but he did as he was told.
“At least one of the blighters must have escaped,” said Mr Hodges. “Billy down on his barge reckons he saw a parachute floating in the canal.”
“And there’s bits of white silk on the edge of the railway too,” panted Donny Snigson, skidding to a stop and saluting the colonel. He was bright red in the face and looked as though he might have run the whole way down the tracks from Boar’s Head Farm so as not to miss the excitement.
Edie’s tummy turned cartwheels.
The colonel bore down on her and Gus. “Parachute, eh?” he said. “Is that what you used to stop the train?”
“Yes,” said Edie and Gus at the same time.
“We found it caught in the thorn trees,” said Gus.
“We cut it into strips,” explained Edie. They were gabbling so fast they were talking over each other.
“Hmm,” said the colonel. Edie felt a huge sense of relief. She was almost dizzy. She knew what was coming next. He would ask them if they had seen anyone. This was their chance to explain about the airman and how they hadn’t had time to mention it sooner, what with all the shock and drama of saving the train.
But the colonel didn’t ask them any more questions at all. “Good, good,” he said, and shook their hands as if he was working the pump in his garden. “Well done again, youngsters. Quick thinking.” Then he turned away and began to organize his men. “We need to be calm and thorough.”
It was Len Snigson who spoke next. “If I find any Jerry airmen, I’ll skin ’em alive,” he said. “Then I’ll hang ’em by their necks from the railway bridge.”
From the way he narrowed his eyes, Edie had no doubt it was true.
“Don’t suppose you saw anyone?” He spun round and stared at Edie and Gus.
Edie knew this was the moment that she ought to tell the truth. But all she could see were Len Snigson’s little sharp teeth as he snarled like a terrier about to catch a rat. Her German … she had begun to think of him like that … her German had saved her life. And if Len Snigson found him, he would skin him alive.
“No,” she said quietly. “We didn’t see anyone.”
“Not a soul,” said Gus.
And that was it. The lie was told.
Chapter Fifteen
A Bad Day
Edie’s head felt hot and fuggy. Her feet were freezing cold.
The last thing she remembered was coming back to Three Chimneys in the little post cart and Aunt Roberta and Uncle Peter congratulating them for saving the train.
“Not that I approve of you playing around on the railway tracks or being out and about at the crack of dawn,” said Aunt Roberta sternly. But she handed them both a steaming mug of cocoa, and, for a moment, her hand rested gently on the top of Edie’s head. “Thank goodness you’re safe. Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed.
Edie looked up at her and managed to smile.
She felt Aunt Roberta’s love settling on her like a warm blanket. How could I ever have thought she didn’t care for me? wondered Edie. But she couldn’t drink the cocoa, even though there was probably a full week’s ration of sugar in it. She couldn’t even lift the mug. Her hands were shaking too much and her arms seemed like lead.
“Bed for you, young lady,” ordered Aunt Roberta. “You’ve caught a chill. Not to mention all the excitement.”
“Excitement?” said Edie, clinging to Aunt Roberta’s arm. “It wasn’t exciting, it was terrible.”
Her head sank into her soft white pillow. She couldn’t even remember coming upstairs, although she was wearing a clean, dry nightie…
“Goodnight,” she whispered, lifting her head. But everybody seemed to have left already. Someone had pulled the blackout curtains and the night light was glowing.
Edie closed her eyes, but as soon as she did she saw an image of the burning plane spiralling towards the ground.
“Wait!” she shouted – or at least she thought she did – but nobody came. “I need to get up.”
Edie remembered that Fliss was coming. For the beat-up. She was going to fly over Three Chimneys.
She tried to swing her legs out of bed, but she couldn’t. “Fliss?” she mumbled. But the shadow that came to the door was Aunt Roberta.
“Shh!” she whispered, and she pressed a cool flannel against Edie’s burning forehead. “Try to get some sleep.”
… The Twiglets were flying a Spitfire. It was low
. Too low. Then suddenly it wasn’t the Twiglets at all. It was the German, her German… He was waving a white flag.
Edie tossed and turned in her sleep as images of roaring trains and burning planes filled her dreams. Len Snigson yapped like a terrier and Colonel Crowther, for no reason at all, had turned into an old grey wolf.
Then it was morning. Or, Edie guessed it must be. The blackout curtains were open a crack as if someone had lifted them and peeped out. A beam of sunlight danced across the floor.
Edie stretched.
“About time!” said a small, impatient-sounding voice.
Edie pulled herself up and saw Greta standing over her with her arms crossed.
“Hello.” She blinked. “Have I been asleep long?”
“Very long,” said Greta. She uncrossed her arms and began to count on her chubby little fingers. “One, two, three whole days.”
“Three days?” Edie’s throat felt dry and sandy, but the stiffness in her body was gone and her head wasn’t burning any more. Suddenly she was wide awake. “I can’t have been asleep for all that time,” she gasped. “I need to see Fliss. Did she come?”
Greta padded over to the little fireplace that was never lit. She picked up a thin blue envelope which was propped up on the mantelpiece and padded back again. “This came for you.”
Edie recognized Fliss’s curly writing at once. She turned the envelope over and tore it open. There was a big red kiss on the back. Inside was a single sheet of writing paper:
Darling E
So sorry I could not come. All plans changed and rota shifted.
Rather beastly here, actually. Poor BBW had a terrible prang. She was killed, flying into a cliff near …
The name of the place had been blacked out and Edie couldn’t read it. But she’d understood enough. BBW was Belinda Barton-Withers – and she had died flying a plane. Edie remembered how loud and jolly the young ATA pilot had been – so full of life, like the older girls at school when they were setting off for a hockey match. Edie had to catch her breath before she could look back at Fliss’s letter.