‘Bad camp security, sergeant,’ I snapped. The man glanced up at me, then returned his gaze to the fire. His companions squinted up at me. One of them sat up. None of them seemed concerned by my arrival.
‘You should have someone on perimeter,’ I said. ‘Otherwise any Tom, Dick or Harry could walk in and finish you off.’
‘They’re welcome to it, mate,’ the man who’d sat up said. He looked past me, where Frankie was peering around the birch tree.
‘All right lad. Got any grub?’
‘Come back to the house,’ I said. ‘We can give you a proper meal and you can clean up, before you’re on your way.’
‘Tell them to go away,’ the man still lying on the ground groaned, keeping his eyes closed. ‘This is the best kip I’ve had for three months.’ His voice had a thick accent. He was wearing an English uniform, but he sounded Polish.
‘You can’t stay here,’ I said.
‘Says who?’ the Polish soldier asked.
‘I do.’
‘You and whose army?’ said the man by the fire, the sergeant, his eyes not leaving the flames. The way he spoke, he was clearly the leader. There was a menace in his voice. It would have worked, if I’d been a farmer, intimidated by three battle-hardened soldiers, fresh from the front. But itdidn’t work, because the last time I’d been intimidated by three soldiers, all three of them had been pointing rifles at me, and I was three miles behind their lines, in the mountains overlooking the Khyber Pass. That situation had ended in my favour. So standing over three unarmed men on my own land wasn’t going to raise my pulse much, no matter how much menace any of them put into their voices.
‘We can fight, or we can eat,’ I said. ‘I’ve eaten already, so I’m easy either way. But it looks like you boys could do with a meal.’
The sergeant tore his eyes away from the fire. He stared at me, thinking. I let him look. Looking never hurt anyone. Better than fighting.
‘Let’s get the fucking food,’ the Polish soldier said. ‘We kill him after.’
15
We were picking our way back through the undergrowth when we heard the German. Everyone froze, even the children.
The sergeant turned to his two men. He made a hand gesture, forking his fingers, pointing at each man in turn and giving them a direction. They nodded and slipped silently into the trees.
I pulled Frankie and Elizabeth towards me and knelt down, face to face with them. They were pale with fear.
‘Probably someone messing around,’ I said, keeping my voice low.
Frankie shook his head. I knew what he was thinking. It was what we were all thinking.
‘Parachutist,’ he said.
Parachutist.
I hadn’t told Frankie about what I’d seen last night. I hadn’t told anyone. But the word was on everybody’s lips, on every front page. Hitler’s not-so-secret weapon, responsible for the fall of Belgium and the Netherlands. Elite troops dropped behind enemy lines, tasked with killing and gathering intelligence.
‘There aren’t any parachutists here,’ I said, hoping my confident tone would cut off any further discussion.
I scanned the area, looking for somewhere I could hide the children. I found what I was looking for, an ancientholly bush, dense with green leaves. I pointed to it and whispered.
‘Hide in there.’
Elizabeth clutched my arm and shook her head vigorously.
‘Don’t leave us,’ she hissed.
‘I can do more if I’m alone,’ I said. ‘I’ll find out what’s going on, then I’ll come back and get you out.’
Elizabeth was vibrating, her jaw clenched.
‘You said you’d look after me.’
