Shoes for Anthony (26 page)

Everybody stopped.

‘One man!' she shouted. ‘One man against us. Look around you! We're two hundred strong, even more with the Americans. One man cannot divide this village. One man is no greater part than we are together. He is on his own, he doesn't know where he is, he doesn't know how to get around and he certainly doesn't know how to get home. If anyone is going to be frightened, it's him. We shall not let him bother us.'

‘There is a bloody German up our moutain!' cried Captain Pugh, throwing his arms into the air. ‘He's not a bloody rambler that's got lost. A bloody German. And a German, I might add, who may well be here deliberately? A plane crash days before the Americans arrive? Don't tell me that's a coincidence?'

There were murmurs of agreement.

‘Why did the plane crash?' shouted back Miss Evans, gesturing towards Piotr. ‘Because the Polish took control of the plane. They were trying to escape. Do you really think if the Germans were planning something they'd come to Treherbert? Nothing ever happens here!'

‘There is stuff happening here now,' shouted Ade, gesturing towards the Americans. ‘The valleys are full of stuff happening.'

‘And it still doesn't mean we shouldn't bloody kill him!' shouted Emrys. ‘Germans are why we were digging that mountain so fast and hard. Germans is why the pit owners were cutting corners. Germans is why there's four of our neighbours dead.'

‘He's right! We should find him and kill him!' shouted Old Morris.

Jones the Bible raised his hands. ‘Let's not be hasty!' he cried out. “Thou shalt not kill!” The word of God is clear.'

‘Sod God!' yelled Emrys, his face flushed with rage. ‘My father is lying in a bloody tent fighting for his life. If there's a German up our mountain, I'm going to find him and skin him like a rabbit. Now, who's with me?'

A cheer went up. I looked towards Mam and for the first time in my life, I saw hate in my mother's eyes.

‘Kill him, Emrys,' she said, her teeth gritted. ‘Get up that mountain and kill him.'

There was no stopping them. They were fired up, fury coursing through them. Long, brooding resentments finally allowed to spill free. If they could find this German, justice would be done. The ignominy of being left behind, forced down the pit, the cold, flaccid handshake of the coward – all these things would be wiped clean, forgotten, if they could spill blood on our mountain, a sacrifice for us all.

Emrys jumped up onto a pew. ‘We'll need lanterns!' he yelled. ‘Those who are coming, bring your Davy lamps! Ant, get the rifle from the outtie! Robert! Go tell your officers!'

‘What do I tell them?' he shouted up.

‘That we're going to find a German!'

Another cheer went up; the rabble was rousing. There was an air of collective hostility. It felt dangerous and exciting. ‘Can I go, Mam?' I said. ‘I want to.'

She shook her head. ‘No, Ant,' she answered. ‘This isn't for boys. Let the lads get it done.'

‘We'll head up Pen Pych,' yelled Emrys, his chest thrust forward. ‘Towards the crash site. Then fan down. Chances are he was hurt, like Piotr. If he's wounded, he'll be hiding. Let's flush him out.'

Piotr stepped forward. ‘I can come with you,' he said, looking upwards. ‘I can speak German. It might be useful.'

‘We're not planning on speaking to him,' said Emrys, darkly, jumping down. ‘Besides, your ankle's still bad. You'll slow us down. Sorry, Piotr. You stay with Bethan and Mam.' He patted him firmly on the upper arm then turned back towards the gathering pack. ‘Let's get at it!'

I had never known a tenser night. We sat in the parlour, Bethan pacing. Mam darker than I had ever known her, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames in the hearth. I watched her for a while, losing herself in the constant comfort of the burning coal, her head tilted into an upturned palm. It was rare that she ever sat idle. There was always something to be done – mending, unravelling, darning, knitting – but now she was perfectly still, frozen in thought. Piotr sat in Father's chair, quiet, contemplative. There was little to be said.

There were so many places to hide up our mountain. The bracken was thick at this time of year. He could lie under it, this enemy of ours. Lie still and have a man pass right by him. Only the red kite would spot him under that. She'd find him, flush him out, tear his flesh. I thought about what Emrys would do if they found him. I thought of the skinned rabbits that had sat on our sink. I thought of the burnt flesh from the crash. I thought of a dead German being brought down the mountain like the carcass of a sheep.

I couldn't settle so I went to find Piotr, who by now was standing on the back step. He was smoking, one hand in pocket, and staring up into the night sky. I sat down and let my chin fall into my hands. ‘Almost full moon,' he said, sensing my presence. ‘When I was captured, I would stare up at moon and wonder if anyone I cared for was looking at it too. If you ever leave this valley,' he continued, sitting down on the step next to me, ‘you can look at moon wherever you go and remember how it casts light across your mountain, or think of your mother, sitting here, as we are, gazing up. It can be comfort, knowing that however far apart you are, you can always look at same thing.'

I looked up. The moon was bright, its top half bleeding into the shadows. ‘Do you think your mother is looking up at the moon right now? Like we are?'

Piotr shrugged. ‘I don't even know if my mother is still alive. I've had no reply to that letter. Still. It may take time to reach her.' He took another, deep drag on his cigarette, the paper crackling as the tobacco burned down. ‘Tell me,' he added, after a short silence, ‘can you navigate by stars? Do you know how to do it?'

I shook my head. Piotr turned to me, his face filled with surprise. ‘How can this be?' he asked. ‘Mountain boy like you?'

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘I know some of the constellations. Like that one, the one that looks like a saucepan. That's The Plough.'

‘Then you do know! Follow line down through constellation to lowest star. Wherever that is pointing is true north. Once you know that, you can never be lost again. What other stars do you know, Anthony?'

‘Orion,' I said, pointing towards three bright stars in a row.

‘Do you know story of Orion?'

‘No,' I replied. ‘Apart from he needs a belt.'

Piotr laughed. ‘He was a great hunter, Anthony. A giant hunter who could walk the seas and carry men on his shoulders. But he had insatiable appetite for killing. He declared he would kill every creature on earth and for this, the goddess Gaia sent scorpion to kill him. And when he was dead, Zeus sent him to the stars to be remembered for all time. It's why you will never see the constellations of Orion and Scorpio in same sky. Enemies for all eternity.'

‘Like us and the Germans,' I said.

Piotr took a last drag on his cigarette and threw the stub out into the garden.

‘And what about his belt?' I asked. ‘Did Zeus give him that?'

‘No,' answered Piotr, shooting me a wink, ‘his mother did. To keep his trousers up. Come, let's go back in. Take the ladies' minds off things. Perhaps we can play cards? Do you have pack?' He stood and dusted off the seat of his trousers.

‘I think Mam's got some somewhere. We played Beggar My Neighbour one Christmas.'

‘Beggar my neighbour? I don't know this game. You can teach me.'

I didn't know how long it was that we waited. We played cards for an hour or so, but I had settled next to Bethan on the sofa and must have drifted off into a sudden and deep sleep. Perhaps it was one hour, maybe three, the steady, thick tick of the clock on the mantelpiece marking the time, but I was jolted awake by the slam of a door. I opened an eye, momentarily confused as to where I was, to see Alwyn standing above me.

‘Did you find him?' said Bethan, her hands gripped into a tight knot.

Alwyn shook his head. ‘Got too dark. Cloud came over so we lost the moon. Emrys thought he saw something, let a shot go. But it was a sheep.'

‘He's killed a sheep?' said Mam.

‘No,' replied Alwyn, putting his Davy lamp down by the hearth. ‘He missed.'

‘Where is he?' asked Piotr, standing up to offer Alwyn Father's chair.

‘Right behind me. Alf's with him. He's got an idea for going out again once it's light. Spreading out, like. That way we can cover more ground.' He melted into the armchair, his head flopping backwards. He gave a wince.

‘You all right?' asked Piotr.

‘Arm hurts a bit,' said Alwyn, gesturing towards his cast. ‘It's not too bad, mind. Just tired. Christ, it's been a long day.'

He rubbed at his forehead with the tips of his fingers. I pushed myself up and swung my legs down onto the floor.

‘What a night,' said Emrys, appearing in the doorway. He was holding the rifle and I could just smell the burnt residue of cordite. ‘Thought I had him. It was a bloody sheep. I wouldn't mind but I've only got five bullets. I've only got four now. If you don't mind, Mam, I'll keep the rifle in the house for now. I don't want to leave it in the outtie. Just in case, like.'

He rested the rifle against the dresser and, reaching into his pocket, took out the four remaining bullets and tipped them into a cup on the dresser.

‘Alf thinks we should head out in groups tomorrow. Captain Pugh's going to speak to the Americans. Teaming up, like. We know the terrain. They've got the firepower. The bracken's impossible. They've got flamethrowers. If needs be, we can burn him out.'

‘Do you think there's school tomorrow, Mam?' I asked, drawing the back of my hand across my eyes.

She shook her head. ‘No. Not now. Nobody'll want anyone far from sight. You get off up to bed, Ant,' she said, pushing herself up from her chair. ‘We all should.'

Piotr picked up the fireguard and placed it in front of the hearth. ‘Tomorrow I'll see Arthur Pryce. I might be able to give description. Might help catch the right fellow?'

‘We'll catch him, no matter what,' added Alwyn, unbuttoning his jacket. ‘German in Treherbert? He's got no chance.'

‘Oh, if he's up that mountain,' scowled Emrys, turning to the doorway, ‘he's a dead man. Of that be in no doubt.'

We all stood, a dead and heavy quiet sinking into the room. There was nothing more to be said. The manhunt was on.

Everyone was on high alert. Members of the Home Guard had gone door-to-door: all strangers were to be reported, however innocent. Suspicion was the order of the day. Better to be distrustful than for an enemy to slip through our fingers.

It was alien to us, this sense of unease. We were used to the oddities and sadness thrown up by our mountain, but to teach ourselves not to trust was a new and painful thing. We lived in a community with no locks, no forbidden spots. We lived by a set of rules, our own moral code, and the shame of transgression was enough to keep us on the straight and narrow. Bad things happen when you do something wrong. It was hardwired into us.

Mam was right, there was to be no more school until the German had been found. Finally, we were part of the war: there was a man on the run and we were going to find him.

‘I reckon he'll be hanging round our den,' said Ade, splitting a long grass blade down its length. ‘Think about it. There's tuck up there. And the radio's gone missing. None of us have got it, have we?'

We all shook our heads.

‘We should tell someone 'bout that,' said Fez, kicking at a clinker by his foot. ‘If he's got that radio, and you got it working, Ant, then he can send messages, like. Secret spy messages.'

‘What do you reckon he's spying on?' said Ade, making a knot at the base of the twain blade. ‘Gotta be the Americans, innit?'

Bozo nodded. ‘Everyone's reckoning he's still up the mountain. But if he's spying, he's down here, innit? He could be in an outhouse. Or in the sheep dip sheds. They're not used till September. Nobody goes near 'em when they're empty. He'd have shelter, be near town, be able to creep about at night, like.'

‘Yeah,' said Ade, his eyes widening. ‘We should go check 'em out. Imagine if we find him first!'

‘But he might have a gun. He might kill us!' said Bozo, his voice high and anxious.

‘We've got a gun, remember,' said Ade, patting his shorts.

‘And no bullets,' said Fez. ‘They disappeared, 'n' all.'

I thought about saying something, telling them that Piotr had taken them, but decided against it. He had done it for our safety and to snitch on him felt like a betrayal.

‘'Ere, Ant,' said Ade, flicking me with the end of his finger. ‘Your Emrys has got bullets, innit?'

‘He's only got four. Used one last night. He put 'em in a cup on Mam's dresser. But that's all he's got. He'll never let us have any.'

Ade carried on weaving the long grass blades together. ‘Got to get us some bullets. For safety, like. If we find him, we can't take him down with a Chinese burn, can we?'

‘We should make a list,' said Fez, reaching into his pocket for a scrap of paper and a pencil. ‘To catch a German, we have to think like a German. If we were lost here and wanted to stay hidden, where would we go?'

‘I'd get on a bus to Cardiff,' said Ade. ‘Nobody cares in a city. You can walk about right in front of people. They don't notice you.'

‘Right under their noses,' said Fez. ‘You couldn't do that in Treherbert, mind. Everyone knows everyone. Strangers stick out like a sore thumb. We need to think about all the buildings he could be in.'

‘He might not be indoors,' I said. ‘The weather's been good. It's not even rained. He could still be up the mountain. We know he is. He took the radio.'

‘We should check out the den, see if anything else is gone. Maybe lay a trap. Leave some food. See if he takes it, like. That way we'll know. Plan?' said Ade, sticking his fist out.