Passing back beneath the archway towards the direction they had come from, Luke now saw in the morning light that a river, which he’d not noticed when they’d arrived in the dark, ran close to the memorial. Further along the bank, he saw a mound of earth with a spade sticking up out of it. There was no one there, so he walked towards it. Reaching it, he looked down to see an oblong had been marked out with tape and about a quarter of it dug to a depth of about two feet. There was still plenty of work to do.
A voice spoke behind him making him jump; surprisingly a voice that spoke in English and with a proper English accent.
‘Sent someone else to finish the job, have they? Well, don’t just stand there looking daft. Get digging.’
Luke stared at him and shrugged as if he didn’t understand. The big, burly man gave an exaggerated sigh and made the motion of digging. Then he spoke again, now in a language that Luke did not understand, but he pretended to, nodded and smiled and picked up the spade. The man looked pleased and spoke again, but luckily also made the motion of eating. Luke presumed he was saying that if he dug the hole he would feed him later.
He nodded, though he wasn’t sure he would take up the man’s offer. He didn’t want to get trapped sitting in a café somewhere. He was puzzled at what the hole could be for in a public place on the river bank, but it wasn’t his concern, so he dug slowly trying to eke out the time until nightfall. It would be a long day.
‘Daisy! Daisy!’ Gill rushed into the room where the ferry pilots had congregated, waiting to receive their delivery chits for the day.
The Fox Moth had picked Daisy up early that morning and she had come straight to the office; she had not been home to their digs and so had not seen Gill.
‘I’m here. What’s the matter?’
Gill, her eyes wide with fear, her hair flying loose, gripped Daisy’s arm like a drowning man. ‘Luke! It’s Luke. He’s been posted missing. He didn’t come back from a mission yesterday.’
‘Sit down and tell me calmly what you know.’
‘Calmly?’ Gill’s voice rose an octave. ‘How can you tell me to be calm?’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘It’s Luke, Daisy. Luke.’
‘Because getting hysterical isn’t going to help. Now, who rang here?’
Gill released her grasp on Daisy, flopped into a chair and covered her face with her hands. In a muffled voice she said, ‘His friend, Tim.’
‘So – what did he say exactly?’
Slowly, Gill pulled her hands away from her face. ‘They’d been on a mission to northern France yesterday – that’s all he could say, but Luke and three others too, I think, hadn’t come back.’
‘Did anyone see his aircraft crash or a parachute? Anything?’
Gill bit her lip and shook her head. ‘Nothing,’ she said hoarsely.
‘I’ll ring Daddy. Luke’s family might have been told more.’
Daisy went into the office and explained swiftly to the Operations Manager what had happened and got permission to telephone home before she set out on her delivery for that day.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, but make it quick,’ was all Mary said. ‘You still have your duty to do.’
‘Daddy?’ Daisy was saying into the receiver a few moments later. ‘Do you know about Luke?’
‘Yes, but we don’t know much.’
‘I know, we’re the same. Just that he’s been posted missing. Have you told Aunty Pips?’
‘No, I’ll write to her.’
‘Telephone Aunty Milly. She might be able to get a message to her quicker than a letter.’
‘That’s a good idea. I’ll do that.’
Word soon spread both through the village and in the various parts of the country. Pips heard from Paul working at the War Office. Harry heard eventually from his mother by letter and, of course, all the villagers heard via the ‘grapevine’.
Henrietta walked down into the village to see Norah. She found Bess there and so was able to speak to both Luke’s grandmothers at the same time.
‘Peggy’s had a telegram now, Mrs Maitland,’ Norah told her, ‘but I aren’t going to believe it until they have proof that he’s dead. I mean, it’s not the same as last time, is it?’ Her sad eyes glanced towards the black-shrouded photographs of Luke’s father, Harold, and his two brothers on the mantelpiece. ‘Then it was certain, but with planes and that, you don’t really know, do you? I mean, he could have parachuted out, couldn’t he?’
‘He could indeed, Mrs Dawson,’ Henrietta said, keeping her voice bright and optimistic.
Bess, sitting by the range, was unusually quiet. ‘I thought I’d feel summat,’ she said slowly. ‘I mean that I’d have an instinct that he was still alive or – or that he’d gone, but I don’t.’ Tears shimmered in her eyes as she met Henrietta’s gaze.
‘I know, Mrs Cooper. I know just what you mean.’ She turned to Norah. ‘How’s Mr Dawson taken it?’
Norah shrugged. ‘Hard to tell. He’s still mad at Luke for going. Harry too, though he’s not so bothered about him. Sorry, Bess, but you know how he is.’
‘I do, Norah duck,’ Bess said wryly.
‘He didn’t say owt when Sam came here early before work to tell us both,’ Norah went on. ‘He just grunted and went to work as usual.’
‘He’s a hard man to live with, Norah. We can see all that. Will you be all right? I know Luke used to keep an eye on you.’
‘I’m fine, Mrs Maitland, honestly. ’Course I have to put up with his moods, but I’m used to that and Bess comes every day without fail. I’d soon tell her if there was real trouble.’ She gave a small smile. ‘And Len knows that.’
Henrietta got up. ‘I’ll leave you to it. We’ll let you know if we hear anything else, of course. By the way, there’s a meeting of the WVS at the hall tomorrow afternoon, but I’ll understand if neither of you feel like coming.’
The two women glanced at each other. ‘We’ll be there, Mrs Maitland,’ Norah said. ‘We need to keep busy.’
At lunchtime, the man for whom Luke was digging the hole came back carrying a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of water. He spoke to Luke in a language that Luke now thought was French. His own French was very limited. He’d learned a little at the Lincoln Grammar School but certainly not enough to pass as a native speaker. He nodded his thanks and smiled. Hoping that it was enough.
‘Don’t say much, do you?’ the man tried English again, but this time, although he obviously understood him perfectly, Luke did not dare to reply. He was afraid of a trap.
Luke smiled again and bit into a sandwich gratefully.
‘Ah well, have it your way, then. But if you do need help of any kind, I’ve got a café just down the road, though if you decide to disappear’ – he paused and pulled out a couple of notes from his pocket – ‘here’s something for saving me a job.’ He pointed to the hole and smiled. ‘You’ve saved me a bad back. Thanks.’
Luke took the proffered money. He didn’t know how much it was, but anything might be useful. Again, he nodded his thanks.
He’d finished digging the hole by late afternoon, but it was still several hours until nightfall when he would be able to leave. He’d decided that he would linger around the memorial, pretend he was searching for a name, perhaps, on the many panels. He walked back purposefully towards the Menin Gate. It wouldn’t do to appear furtive. He walked through the archway to the centre and took the steps up to the left, which then divided and rose on each side. There were wreaths laid on several steps. He found a vantage point where he could watch the roads if necessary. He sat down behind a wall to wait.
He heard movement through the archway and people’s voices, but there didn’t seem to be the usual ‘Last Post’ service at eight o’clock taking place. He wondered why as the hour came and went and the sounds from below grew less instead of more, as he might have expected.
When it was completely dark, he slipped quietly down to the road and began to walk westwards towards Poperinghe, but he took side roads, sometimes across co
untry; anything to avoid coming across a German patrol. He wondered if the signposts had been altered as they had in England to confuse any invaders, but he didn’t need them anyway. He was sure he knew the way.
Forty-Five
Luke was not the only one awake. There were several of his family members and loved ones suffering a sleepless night. Daisy had telephoned again in the evening, but there was no more news from anyone. She and Gill tried to comfort each other, talking in low whispers through the night. The next morning, their superior told them, ‘No flying for you two today. You look dreadful. You wouldn’t be safe. Take a couple of days off, if it would help.’
‘I don’t think it would, ma’am. It’s just that neither of us slept last night. We’ll take today off, but I’m sure we’ll be better tomorrow,’ Daisy told her.
Gill wasn’t so sure that the next night, and for several nights to come, would be any better, but she said nothing. Plenty of other ATA pilots received bad news from time to time. They all had to carry on. So must she. But she felt as if her heart were breaking and by the look on Daisy’s face, so was hers.
Sam held Peggy in his arms through the second night.
‘It’s the not knowing that’s the worst, Sam,’ she murmured against his shoulder. ‘I go from feeling hopeful to being plunged into despair.’
‘I know, love. I know.’
There was no such comfort for Norah from her husband. Len turned onto his side, his back towards her. They didn’t speak, though Norah knew he was awake because he wasn’t snoring. She lay on her back staring at the ceiling through the long night.
Luke’s other grandmother, Bess, slept fitfully. Beside her, Charlie snored. She even smiled wryly to herself. Not much kept Charlie awake, but tonight his snoring actually comforted her.
At the hall, sleep was difficult for everyone there too. They were all wondering the same thing; asking the same questions that no one could answer.
Where was Luke? Was he still alive? Was he injured? If only they could hear some news. Any news, however bad, would be better than this awful not knowing.
In the early hours of the morning, Luke reached the outskirts of Poperinghe. Now he turned to walk in a south-westerly direction, still keeping to the countryside and avoiding main roads. He was sure there would be Germans billeted in the town and soldiers on duty, maybe even some patrols out.
He reached his destination well before dawn and smiled. Farm buildings that he recognized loomed up through the darkness. He stood for a moment near the farm gate, trying to remember if there was a dog that would alert the sleeping occupants of the farmhouse. Very quietly, he walked towards the nearest barn, but, just as he’d thought might happen, a dog sleeping in a kennel near the back door began to bark, though it did not come towards him. Perhaps it was chained up; he hoped so. He didn’t want to have to deal with a snarling animal, which was only doing its job of protecting the property and the people who lived there.
A pale light flicked on inside the house, then another just beyond the door. There was a rattle of a chain and the door opened. A man stood silhouetted against the light.
‘Who’s there? Quiet, Jess. Down, girl.’
Luke moved forward slowly. A little nearer he called softly, ‘Uncle William. It’s me. It’s Luke.’
There was a moment’s stunned silence and then a torch beam shone in his face. He submitted to the glare with good grace; he knew William had to be sure . . .
‘Good Lord!’ William said, turning the beam away and coming towards him. ‘Whatever’s happened? Come in, come in quickly. I must turn the lights off.’
He ushered Luke into the kitchen and led him to a chair near the fire that was still burning low in the grate.
The door leading to the stairs opened and Brigitta peered round it. ‘Oh my!’ she said, her eyes wide with astonishment. ‘Luke.’ She came into the room, her arms outstretched. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Get him some food, Brigitta. He looks frozen to death and half starved.’
‘Of course. At once.’ As Brigitta bustled about the kitchen, Luke said, ‘I was shot down over Dranouter. I was lucky; a friendly farmer gave me these clothes and found someone to take me to Ypres. I knew I could find my way here from Ypres, but, Uncle William, I can’t stay here. I just thought perhaps you can put me in touch with someone who could get me to the coast – and then home.’
Before William could answer, Brigitta touched his shoulder. ‘Of course you must stay here until we can think what to do.’
‘But it would put you in the most appalling danger. I can’t—’
‘Both our boys – Pascal and Waldo – you remember them?’
‘Of course.’
‘They are both working for the Belgian Resistance. Pascal is away hiding in the Ardennes.’ For a moment her face was bleak. ‘He doesn’t get home at all. It would be too dangerous, but Waldo is not far away and comes at night sometimes.’
‘We don’t get many patrols out here – thank goodness,’ William said.
‘I need to get home,’ Luke said between mouthfuls. ‘Can Waldo put me in touch with an escape route?’
William and Brigitta glanced at each other. ‘We can ask him,’ William said. ‘But in the meantime, you can stay here. You can help me look after the war cemeteries. The Germans don’t interfere with us.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘Particularly if we’re looking after their cemetery at Langemark.’
‘I just don’t want you to be in any danger because of me.’
Brigitta shrugged. ‘Don’t you think we were in danger in the last war? We don’t mind it for ourselves, though we do worry about the boys.’
‘Of course.’
‘We must think up a story and how to act if they do come looking. Do you think they might be on the lookout for you?’
Luke shook his head. ‘Not that I know. I parachuted out and my plane crashed some distance away. If they are looking for me, I think it must be around the crash site.’
‘You don’t think they saw your parachute, then?’
‘I don’t think they can have done.’
‘Where is it now?’
‘The helpful farmer was going to burn it along with my uniform.’
‘Now, you must get to bed. You must get some rest. Later, we will think up a cover story.’
‘I’ll take you up,’ Brigitta said. ‘You can have Pascal’s room. I always keep it ready although I know he won’t get home.’
Luke fell asleep at once. The fear and the long walks had exhausted him, but for what was left of the night, William and Brigitta were awake planning.
‘Like you said, William, he can work with you on the farm and in the cemeteries. The Germans allow you to do that. He can be my nephew.’
‘But he can’t speak the language.’
‘No, that is a problem.’ She was thoughtful for a moment. ‘What if he can’t speak at all? I mean, pretends that he can’t speak?’
‘That’s a bit risky. You know what the Germans are doing with people with – well – problems. They might transport him.’
‘But if he’s hiding in plain sight, as you say, and doing something they’d see as being for them, surely they wouldn’t.’
William was thoughtful. ‘We’ll put it to Luke. It’s him taking the risk.’
‘Just until Waldo can get him onto one of the escape routes. I don’t think Luke is going to be content to sit out the rest of the war here, do you?’
William gave a short laugh. ‘No, I don’t think he is.’
Forty-Six
They explained their idea to Luke when he woke up about lunchtime.
‘Whatever you think best, but I’m just so concerned about putting you both in danger. And Waldo too.’
‘The boys both made their own choices,’ Brigitta said, ‘and we have to abide by it. Just the same as your family have had to honour your decision.’
Luke glanced at William and grimaced. ‘There was one who didn’t? I think you can guess who?’
<
br /> William looked puzzled. ‘Your mam? I wouldn’t think Peggy would be too happy about it.’
‘Well, she isn’t. And Harry has joined the RAF too, so she’s both of us to worry about, but I think she’s proud of us too. No, it was Granddad Dawson. He threatened to disinherit me if I joined up.’
‘If you joined up?’ William repeated, bemused.
Luke nodded. ‘Yes. That’s what surprised us all. Exactly the opposite to last time. We think it’s all about what he wants at the time. He didn’t want me to enlist because he wanted me to carry on his business and an agricultural worker is classed as a reserved occupation. He believes he could have got an exemption for me. But – I didn’t give him the chance.’
‘And he wanted me to enlist because everyone else was doing it and it shamed him to have a coward in the family.’ William paused and then asked, ‘What about Harry?’
‘Granddad isn’t bothered about him. When he was born, he seemed prepared to treat him as one of the family, but now he’s always saying Harry’s not his blood relative and has no claim on his business.’
‘That’s a bit unkind,’ Brigitta said and then glanced at William. ‘Sorry, darling. It’s not my place to speak out.’
William touched her arm. ‘But you’re quite right. So, Luke, are you willing to take the risk of hiding in plain sight, as it were?’
‘Of course. And you want me not to speak at all?’
William and Brigitta exchanged a glance. ‘We think it best, though we can’t be absolutely sure that will work. If the patrols get nosy, they may still want to send you to Germany as forced labour.’
‘I’m willing to take that chance. It’d be better than opening my mouth and proving I’m English.’
‘Can you speak any French or German?’ Brigitta asked.
Luke pulled a face. ‘A few words of French, but not enough to pass as a Frenchman.’ He turned to William. ‘Why have the Germans allowed you to stay here? Is it because you’re married to Aunt Brigitta?’
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