To her surprise, the farmer nodded.
‘We shouldtellsomeone,’ she urged.
The farmer waved her concerns away. ‘I’m not telling anyone and nor are you.’
Elsa’s hands fell away from his sleeve in disbelief.
‘He’s much better than he was,’ said the farmer. ‘He will be gone soon.’
Did the farmer expect her to share a shelter with this man? Had he lost his mind?
He stepped away from her, leaving her to stand with Klara just inside the barn door, as if they were in no man’s land, between the snow shower and shelter.
‘He’s been here over a week. He was almost dead when I found him. Now tell me, why should I turn him away and not you?’ He indicated the snow-covered yard with a single sweep of his arm. ‘Look at the weather. It has been like this for weeks and it is only going to get worse. How could any decent man refuse another shelter?’
‘Because it is people likehimwho are killing our soldiers. My brother and grandfather are dead because... of him.’ She faltered, knowing in her heart it was not exactly true. The man lying on the straw had no more pulled the trigger than she had.
‘And it is people like us who are killinghisfriends and family. We all have blood on our hands. If you don’t want to stay then go.’
Elsa did not move, half angry, half intrigued. Why would this isolated farmer help the enemy like this? She moved further into the barn, holding Klara’s hand a little tighter. ‘What would your wife say if she knew you were helping the enemy?’ She glanced at the sleeping man. ‘Is he British? American?’
‘My wife doesn’t wantanyonehere. And that includes people like you.’ It was a warning to stop asking questions, she realized, if she wanted to stay. He shut the barn door, dragged an empty, torn-open cigarette packet from his pocket, and withdrew a small piece of paper from it. He carefully unfolded it and showed it to her. ‘It’s in English.’
‘I can see.’
His face lit up. ‘Can you speak English?’
She nodded.
‘You will be able to tell me if he kept his promise. Read it to me.’
Elsa wanted to say it said nothing of importance, but the farmer looked as excited as a child. She could not lie and crush his hope.
She took it and studied the shaky but well-crafted writing. ‘It says that Heinrich Meier—’
‘That’s me! I’m Heinrich Meier!’
‘—gave him shelter and food and saved his life.’ The man’s rank and signature were scrawled along the bottom and her stomach churned. Her gaze lifted to the man in question: Lieutenant S Walker of the Queen’s Own Royal West Kent Regiment. The scribbled letters had humanized him and she had not been prepared for that. She did not want to think of him as a person. He was the enemy and could not be trusted. She returned the letter to the farmer, who folded it and returned it to its protective case.
‘It will prove that I have been looking after a British prisoner of war. If the British or Russian Army come through here I will show them this.’ He put it in his pocket and patted it protectively. ‘Hopefully they will show us mercy.’
Elsa didn’t know whether to respect his cunning or be disgusted by it. She thought of her dead brother and chose the latter. ‘You didn’t give him shelter out of the kindness of your heart. You did it to save your skin.’
She could see Heinrich’s patience was wearing thin. ‘I’ve saved his life.’ He pointed at her. ‘And you and your niece will have food and somewhere safe to sleep tonight. If that is not kindness, what is?’
Elsa blinked away the melting snow on her lashes. He had a point, but she didn’t feel generous enough to agree.
‘We have to do what we must to survive.’ He threw her a knowing glance. ‘I suggest you do too.’
The man rolled over in his sleep, silencing them both. They waited for his steady, deep breathing to return.
‘He needs to sleep,’ said the farmer in a fatherly tone.
Elsa rolled her eyes, but, although she hated the British man with every bone in her body, she found herself whispering so asnot to wake him. ‘I don’t feel we will be safe sleeping in the same barn as him.’
The farmer waved his hand at her concern as if he was swatting a fly. ‘You don’t have a choice.’ He relented. ‘He will not harm you.’
‘How do you know? I have Klara to think of.’
