by Dan Smith
‘What did they do to him?’ Mam said without looking at me. ‘What did they do to your poor da’?’
I couldn’t have answered even if I’d wanted to. I felt so much sadness and anger inside me. Much more than I’d ever felt towards Trevor Ridley. So much more. My chest felt so tight, I thought I might choke to death right there on the settee. My throat seemed to narrow, my whole body was tingling with fear and confusion and every other bad and terrible emotion I had ever felt. I wanted to do something. I wanted to blame someone. I wanted someone to pay for what they had done to my dad.
And when I looked up at his letters on the sideboard once more, I knew exactly what I was going to do.
*
I jumped up from the settee and ran from the room. I didn’t look at Kim as I left the kitchen. I went straight to the door and threw it open, running onto the path, through the gate and across the lane. I ran and ran and ran. It was as if I had unlimited breath. I had become something other than me. I was outside of me, looking down at this small boy running like a madman, climbing the hill. I slipped over and over, always getting up again, always running. My eyes burnt and my chest burnt but I kept on.
I didn’t see the villagers waiting by the road for their homes to be safe again. I didn’t see the group of boys who watched me race across the crest of the hill, and I didn’t hear Kim’s calls from behind as she gave chase. All that existed was me, running.
I went over the hill and down the other side, my legs moving too quickly for me as I went down. The slope was too steep to be taken at speed, so I fell forwards, tumbling on the grass, bumping on the rabbit holes, but I hardly noticed. When I stopped rolling, I picked myself up and started running again.
By the time I came to the barbed wire fence, I had started to slow. I jogged to the wire and climbed through the section I’d cut away, not caring that the soldier at the crash site might see me. I had no thought for anything.
Coming from the sunshine into the woods where everything was darker and cooler, I started to run again, heading through the place where Kim and I had used sticks to hack the nettles. The leaves that remained intact brushed the exposed skin of my legs and arms, leaving stings that would swell into tiny bumps. Thistles scratched at me, and branches came out from nowhere to whip across my legs. One branch even caught the side of my face, running a ragged scratch, but I ignored it. I kept on going. Through the woods. Through the nettles. Through the burn.
Until I came to the den.
*
Erik reeled with surprise when I burst in. He lifted the pistol to point it, but lowered it when he saw me. He started to smile, but I came in without a word. There was only turmoil in my mind, I had no time for smiling or speaking, I had something to do. I was here for a reason. I had to repay them for what they had done to Dad.
As Erik put the gun on the ground, I snatched it from him. I fumbled with it, turned it around, and I pointed it right at his chest.
My breath was coming in sharp hitches.
‘Your fault,’ I said between breaths. ‘Your fault. Bloody, bloody Germans. Your fault.’
Erik shook his head, held out his hands and spoke quickly. I don’t know what he was saying. Perhaps he was pleading for his life; begging me not to kill him. Perhaps he was telling me he wanted me to do it. I don’t know.
‘It’s your fault,’ I said, putting the barrel of the gun against his chest, pushing hard as if I were trying to force it right through him. ‘You killed me da’.’
‘No,’ Kim said from behind me. ‘Erik didn’t do it. Not Erik.’
‘Might as well have been,’ I shouted without taking my eyes off him. ‘They’re all the same. They’re killers. Murderers.’ I pushed the gun harder.
‘That’s not true, Peter, and you know it. It’s just not true.’ She came right in so she was behind me and she put her arms round my waist, pressing her face against my back. ‘Not true,’ she whispered.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears out onto my cheeks.
‘You’re scaring him.’
I opened my eyes again and looked at Erik, seeing how afraid he was.
‘Oh, Kim,’ I said. ‘What am I going to do now?’
‘You’re going to be all right,’ she said. ‘We’re all going to be all right. I promise.’
I felt myself relax. I took the gun away from Erik’s chest.
‘Put it down,’ Kim said. ‘Please. Put it down. He’s our friend.’
I lowered it, letting it fall from my hand.
‘That’s better,’ Kim said and I turned to her and put my arms around her and held her tightly and I cried and I cried, and Erik and Kim sat with me, neither of them saying a word.
When I finally stopped and looked down, I saw I was still holding the telegram in my left hand.
Erik took the corner of it between his fingers and waited for me to release it. When I did, he held it out in both hands as if he could read it. But he didn’t need to be able to read the words to understand the message it brought. His eyes scanned the paper, his face without expression. He tipped back his head against the trunk of the sycamore and closed his eyes. He allowed his hands to drop to his lap, the telegram still held fast.
‘We should get you cleaned up,’ Kim said.
I must have looked a state. I’d fallen so many times. My knees and elbows were bleeding, as was the scratch on my face. I put my fingers to it and felt the rough edges of the place where the branch had raked my skin when I ran past. I didn’t care what I looked like, though. In that instant, nothing mattered.
‘You don’t want your mam seeing you like that,’ Kim said. ‘I reckon she needs you now. She needs you to be extra strong. Come on,’ she said, gently encouraging me to leave the den.
She led me outside and together we went to the burn. I stood by the water and Kim crouched to wet her hands and rub the dirt and blood from my knees. The clear water tinkled against the rocks.
‘We need to get you home to your mam. She’ll be worried sick about you, running off like that.’
I pictured Mam sitting at home, still on the settee looking up at the letters leaning against the wireless.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Kim said, dipping her hand to scoop more water. ‘You’ll see. Everything will be—’
‘What’s goin’ on here?’
Kim snatched her hand from the burn and turned around.
‘I thought we might find ’em here,’ Ridley snorted to his friends. ‘I told you they’d come back. Little runts.’
‘Get lost,’ Kim said. ‘Leave us alone.’
I tore my eyes away from the clear water. I’d been almost mesmerised by it, watching the bubbles form and disappear, seeing the vague reflection of the treetops swirling in its eddies.
Trevor Ridley was right there. He was standing in my woods. His friends were there, too. Adam Thornhill and Bob Cummings. They were walking in the places where I had walked with my dad; places they wouldn’t have dared come into if he’d been here. They had destroyed all my dad’s hard work, smashed the pens and made a mess of his shed, and now they had come back.
I wasn’t going to allow it.
‘I see you’ve tidied up.’ Ridley made a show of glancing around. ‘I told you I was gonna get you.’ He pointed a finger at me.
I ran at him.
‘What the—’ Ridley took a step back, tripping on a tree root that rose from the soil. He fell backwards, losing his balance and I threw myself at him, pushing him right down onto the ground. I sat on his stomach and I balled my hands into fists and I hit him. I hit him as hard as I could as many times as I could before he twisted, grabbed my hands. Adam Thornhill was slow to react, but when he did, he took hold of my shoulders and dragged me from his friend. He pushed me onto my back, and then Trevor Ridley saw his moment.
He leapt on me, as I had done to him. He was much bigger than I was; much stronger. He was heavy, too, his weight crushing down on my chest. He sat there, pinning my arms and looking down at me, then he hit
me square on the nose.
Pain shot through my head. It started at the tip of my nose and spread out like clay, smothering my whole face and wrapping itself around me. I shouted out and struggled, writhing under him as he raised his hand to hit me again.
‘Get off him,’ I heard Kim shout, and she threw herself at Ridley, knocking him right off me. I scuttled away, getting to my feet in time to see Ridley stand and face Kim. Thornhill and Cummings grabbed my arms and waited for their leader’s instructions.
‘I’m not scared to punch a lass,’ Ridley said, advancing on Kim.
‘Go on, then.’ She didn’t step back. Instead, she raised her hands like a boxer.
I was afraid for her. So afraid.
‘You think you’re going to hit me?’ Ridley said.
Kim answered by stepping forward and throwing a punch at Ridley’s stomach, but he dodged her attack and came back with a counter-punch, hitting her hard in the chest, knocking her back with great force. She stumbled, reeling, twisting, putting out her hands to break her fall. She seemed to move in slow motion.
And as she fell, a gunshot cracked.
I turned to see Erik standing a few feet away, pointing his pistol at the sky. A trail of smoke wisped from the gun, snaking up into the air as Kim went down.
Her hands were either side of her body when she hit the rock at the edge of the burn. She made no sound at all as her forehead thumped into the dark, wet stone. She just stopped moving.
Her whole body went limp and she slipped sideways to lie face down in the water.
Ridley froze, looking across at Erik who was shouting at them in German. Yelling like a maniac.
Kim lay with her legs on the bank, her face and shoulders in the water. Erik stood where he was, pistol raised.
I opened my mouth to shout her name, but nothing came out.
Cummings and Thornhill maintained their hold on me for a fraction of a second before I tore my hands away from them and ran to the burn, splashing into the water. I took hold of Kim’s shoulders and turned her over. There was a cut on the right side of her forehead, swollen and angry, and there was blood. Her black hair floated in the water like wet feathers. Her eyes were closed.
I struggled to pull her from the burn, looking up at Trevor Ridley, but his focus was on Erik and he was backing away, hands out. When Erik came forward again, still speaking in German, lowering the pistol to point it at them, Ridley and his friends turned and ran back into the woods.
OVER
Kim was too heavy for me. I tried and failed to lift her, angry with myself for being so weak. I sobbed and called her name, falling back in the burn as I lost my footing, getting up and trying again. And then Erik came and gently moved me to one side.
He picked her up from the water, grimacing from the pain in his foot, and carried Kim to the bank, where he laid her on her back. He put his hands on her chest and pushed down, repeating the movement a few times before Kim opened her eyes wide and took a deep breath. She stared, looking around in surprise, as if she didn’t have any idea where she was.
Erik stroked her head and smiled.
‘It’s all right,’ I said.
‘What happened?’ she asked. Her voice was hoarse, as if she had a sore throat.
‘You fell over,’ I said. ‘Dunched your head.’
‘Trevor . . .’ she said.
‘He’s gone.’
She closed her eyes.
‘You’re freezin’,’ I said, touching her face.
‘Did they see Erik?’ She spoke with her eyes closed and she sounded woozy, as if she was falling asleep.
‘Aye. They saw ’im.’
‘Do they know who he is?’
‘Prob’ly, aye.’
‘Then he needs to get away.’ Her words were quiet now, almost a whisper.
‘What I need to do is get you somewhere warm. You need help. Come on.’
I shook her and she opened her eyes, just a crack, but she didn’t focus on me. Her eyes were rolling and when she closed them again, I could see the movement under her eyelids.
‘She needs help,’ I said to Erik. ‘Help. Doctor.’
Erik nodded. ‘Doctor.’
He handed me his pistol, then put his hands under Kim’s body and lifted her as if she were a princess. Her arms hung by her sides, her legs dangled as if all her muscles had relaxed.
‘You need to get away,’ Kim said to Erik. ‘Get away.’ But we ignored her, and I crossed the burn and began walking through the woods. Erik limped behind me, carrying Kim in his arms.
Our progress was slow despite the urgency. Erik was weak from everything that had happened to him, and I tried to help as much as I could but Kim was too heavy for me to carry. We struggled to take her under the fence without hurting her, and together we climbed the hill.
Every few seconds I looked at Kim’s face, putting my hand to her chest to check she was still breathing. Erik hobbled and twisted his face in pain as he carried her, but not once did he put her down or stop to rest. He breathed heavily as we climbed the hill and there was sweat on his forehead, running down into his eyes.
A gentle breeze slipped over the crest of the hill, cooling me as I looked down at Hawthorn Lodge.
It hadn’t been more than ten minutes since Erik fired the gun, but already an army truck had stopped on the lane and soldiers were heading across the field in our direction. Five or six of them, with their rifles pointed towards us. There were others by the vehicle, one of them leaning on the bonnet, sighting along the barrel of his rifle, but still Erik didn’t hesitate. He limped on, holding Kim in his arms.
Behind the truck, Mr Bennett was standing one pace ahead of Mam, holding his hand back to stop her from coming to us. Trevor Ridley and his gang were there, too, looking on with excitement.
Above, the sun shone in a blue sky peppered with only a few wisps of cloud.
The soldiers advanced, calling out when they were close to us, telling us to halt. But we ignored them and kept on, coming closer and closer, stopping only when we were just a few feet from them. It was Lieutenant Whatshisname, the one who had come into our kitchen that day. Sergeant Wilkes was beside him, rifle raised.
‘We got ’im,’ he was saying. ‘We should shoot ’im now. They’re sneaky, these Jerries.’
The lieutenant held up his left hand to silence Sergeant Wilkes. In his right, he clutched a revolver, pointed at Erik. ‘You all right, young man?’ he asked me. ‘We heard shooting. Did he do this? Is this the German?’
‘Course it was ’im,’ said the sergeant, still aiming his rifle at Erik. ‘He’s dangerous. Don’t trust ’im. Look, he’s hurt that lass.’ Beside and behind him, the other soldiers bristled like dogs expecting a fight.
‘That’s ’im,’ Trevor Ridley shouted. ‘That’s the German. He tried to shoot us. He did it. Get ’im. Shoot ’im.’
‘No,’ I said coming forward. ‘No. It wasn’t ’im. He’s just tryin’ to help.’
The lieutenant narrowed his eyes. ‘Trying to help?’
‘It was them lads,’ I said, pointing. ‘They’re the ones what pushed her in the burn. She banged her head and now she needs help. It was them what did this. Erik’s tryin’ to help.’
‘Erik?’
‘That’s his name.’
‘The German?’ He lowered his pistol a little.
‘Aye,’ I said. He’s a good man. He’s our friend.’
And Erik stepped forward, lifting out his arms. His face was contorted with the strain of holding Kim, but he stayed like that until the lieutenant lowered his pistol completely and spoke again.
‘Wilkes, take the girl.’
‘But, sir—’
‘Take the girl.’
‘What about the Jerry? Do you want me to secure ’im or—’
‘Take the girl, man; do it quickly. That’s an order.’
‘Sir.’ Sergeant Wilkes came forward, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He took Kim from Erik and stepped back.
‘G
et her down to the doctor, right away.’
‘Maybe one of the others should—’
‘Now, sergeant.’
‘Sir.’ Sergeant Wilkes turned and hurried back to the truck.
Then it was my turn to step forward. I took Erik’s pistol from my waistband and held it out to the lieutenant. ‘He’s surrenderin’,’ I said. ‘You can’t shoot ’im.’
‘Shoot him?’
‘I know you want to but I won’t let you,’ I said. ‘You can’t. He’s not so different from us, you know.’
The lieutenant took the pistol from me. ‘No one’s shooting anyone, son. We don’t shoot prisoners who come quietly. Not in this king’s army.’
I looked over at Sergeant Wilkes laying Kim on the grass and Doctor Jacobs coming to her side. ‘Not even him?’ I said. ‘The sergeant?’
‘Not anyone. We’re not barbarians, son.’
‘Promise? On your life?’
He saluted. ‘I promise.’ Then he turned and gestured to the other soldiers, and two of them came forward to take their prisoner. But when the first of them reached out to grab Erik’s arm, the German airman pulled away and took a step towards me.
‘Halt!’ shouted the lieutenant as he raised his pistol and, behind him, rifles rattled as the soldiers bristled and weapons were pointed.
But Erik ignored them as he stood straight, looked me in the eye and extended his hand.
‘Stand down,’ the lieutenant said to his men. ‘It’s all right.’
I reached out with my own and let Erik close his fingers around mine in a handshake.
‘Freund,’ he said.
‘Friend.’ ‘Friend.’ I nodded.
And then the soldiers took his arms and pulled him away, breaking his grip, unbalancing him and dragging him on his heels until he found his footing. They walked him to the back of the truck and ushered him inside.
As he stepped up, my friend Erik looked back at me. He nodded once and smiled. Then the soldiers closed the door, and he was gone.
KIM
Kim and I didn’t get into trouble for what we’d done. I think people were too concerned for Kim’s wellbeing, and felt too sorry for me and Mam. Everybody knew about the telegram.