Welcome Home (32 page)

The three of them laughed as Marthe said fondly, ‘Well, give her our love and – both of you – take care.’

During the weeks following D-Day, Edie broke her own rule. It had nothing to do with any superstition; it was just a decision. She read the newspapers, both local and national,
and readily discussed the news with Lil. Once converted, she became the most avid newspaper reader of them all. She even listened to the news bulletins on the wireless, something she had vowed she
would never do when Archie was away. Now that the tide of the war was turning in favour of the Allies, she couldn’t get enough of the up-to-the-minute news. Towards the end of August, she
went through the door in the fence and straight into Lil’s scullery.

‘You there, Lil? I’ve got a bit of news for you. They’ll soon be home now. All the family will soon be home. Paris has been liberated and Montgomery is pushing from the north
and General Patton from further south. Surely, it can’t be long before the whole of France is free, can it?’

‘I don’t expect so, duck.’ Lil was smiling at her friend and joining in her happiness. Maybe she, too, could start to look forward to Irene and Tommy coming back; she
hadn’t dared to before now.

‘Eee, wait till Archie sees this. He’ll be home late tonight. I can’t wait to tell him.’

Beth woke in the hayloft to a scuffling sound. Since the Allies had arrived and the Loire valley and all its towns and villages had been liberated bit by bit, she had been
back at the Détanges’ farm. Now, she, Emile and all the others could emerge from their hiding place to be reunited with their family and friends. But all was not quite as they’d
expected or hoped. There was much bitterness and locals were seeking out anyone they thought had been a collaborator. Everyone suspected their neighbours, their friends and even members of their
own family. And so Beth was hiding in Raoul’s hayloft, just in case someone should come looking for her.

‘It’ll soon be over,’ Raoul tried to reassure her. ‘They’re just going a bit mad at the moment. Just lie low for a day or two. They’ll soon have better things
to think about.’

And so Beth was spending her days – and her nights – in the hayloft with Raoul bringing food to her. She woke at the slightest sound, listening intently even through the
darkness.

It’s only rats, she thought now, and turned over sleepily in her warm burrow in the hay. But then she heard someone quietly ascending the ladder. She lay still, hoping she was completely
hidden in the dark corner, yet the early morning light was now filtering through the opening in the loft. It could hardly be called a window, for there was no glass, but it was the shape and size
of one; the place where, for the past three days, she had watched the yard and the lane leading to the farm for any unwelcome visitors. The wireless, still needed to send messages, was hidden
behind the boarding in the opposite corner to where she was lying. Her heart began to thud. Had they come for her? Was this really it? Was this to be her ignominious end after all that she had
endured and already survived? Were the very people she had helped to save now to turn on her in their ignorance of the true part she had played in their deliverance?

A soft voice came out of the half-light. ‘Beth?’ It took only a second for her to recognize the voice. She pushed her way out of the hay and sat up. ‘Emile. Oh, Emile . .
.’ And she stretched her arms wide to him. His arms were about her, his lips warm and sweet on her mouth as he lay beside her.

‘Where have you been?’ she whispered between kisses. ‘I’ve been so worried.’

After he had brought her back to the farm, he had disappeared and she’d had no idea where he’d gone.

‘My darling,’ he murmured.

She pulled at the buttons on his shirt, her need for him surging through her. They struggled out of their clothes and then clung together, kissing and caressing, all else forgotten in the
release of a mutual passion that had, for so long, been denied.

‘Oh my love,’ he said, as he buried his face in her neck. ‘I’ll never let you out of my sight again. I promise you.’

His lovemaking was tender and yet there was a desperate need that he could no longer hide. He had loved this girl for so long – perhaps even from the time he had first known her in happier
times when they’d been so young and carefree and innocent. Then had come the war and the danger, and that love had had to be denied. And yet, she had known of his feelings and had adored him
in return. But now, the war was at an end and the future was theirs.

They lay together cosy and safe in the warm hay. ‘Beth,’ he said, daring now to use her real name. ‘Will you – please – marry me, my darling?’

Beth giggled deliciously. Her fears were forgotten. Nothing and no one could hurt her now that Emile was by her side. ‘I think I’d better, don’t you?’

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as they whispered and laughed together, planning their hopes for the future.

Between kisses, he said, ‘I heard a funny story yesterday from Rob. He said I was to be sure to tell you.’

‘Mm,’ Beth murmured, sleepily. She had no need of amusement; she had everything she wanted right here beside her.

‘It was about a woman agent who was captured and sent to a prison camp to await execution, but then they found out that she was related to Montgomery.’

At once Beth was wide awake. ‘Good Heavens! Monty! Isobel Montgomery – it’s got to be.’ She sat up. ‘Oh Emile – is she . . . ? Did they . . . ?’

‘She’s safe and well. Evidently, her captors didn’t dare to execute her. In fact, as the Allies advanced, a German officer actually drove her to them, hoping that it would save
his miserable neck.’

Beth laughed. ‘Oh, that’s priceless. Good old Monty. After it’s all over I must—’ she began, but it was then that they heard the shouts of a band of villagers
coming down the lane towards the farm.

Emile peered out of the window. ‘They’re coming.’

Beth stifled a sob. After everything that had happened, after she had come through it all and should now be safe, and now that they were free to declare their love, was she to lose her life at
the hands of the very people she had helped?

‘Stay here,’ he whispered as he grasped her hand briefly. ‘I’ll try to stop them coming up here. Get right into the corner and I’ll move these bales in front of
you. Quickly now.’ She clung to him for a moment and then did as he asked.

‘I love you, Beth,’ he whispered as she heard him move to the ladder and climb down. Then she heard a scrape and a thud as he moved the ladder away from the loft opening to try
– in a vain attempt she was sure – to lure the searchers away from where she was hiding.

Emile stepped out of the barn door as the gang of men entered the farm gateway. For a moment, the man in the front – obviously the self-appointed leader – stopped and stared at him.
Emile faced him squarely, his arms folded.

‘Emile – you’re back,’ the man said unnecessarily.

‘As you see,’ Emile answered shortly. ‘What brings you here, Maurice Arnaud?’ As if I didn’t know, he thought bitterly.

‘The girl. We want the girl. She’s a collaborator and you know what we do to them.’

From D-Day, Edie followed the news avidly and visits to the cinema were now just an excuse to see the Pathé news too. By the middle of the month, De Gaulle was back in
France visiting the liberated areas and towards the end of August, he entered Paris and the people of the city celebrated with him.

‘It’s been bad enough here, Lil, but I can’t imagine what it must have been like to have your country occupied.’

‘It doesn’t bear thinking about, Edie, but they’ll soon be free now. The Allied armies are advancing rapidly across the whole of France now, so the papers say.’

‘I wonder where Frank is, Lil,’ Edie murmured, but she dare not even speak Beth’s name so deep was her anxiety for her daughter.

But just when they thought the tide had really turned in favour of the Allies, Germany unleashed a new and deadly weapon; the V-1 rockets or doodlebugs, as they became called. By July, parents
were sending their children out of the cities yet again.

‘Did you hear them going over us yesterday, Lil? Archie reckons they’re not aimed at us though. They’re on their way to the cities, Sheffield, most likely.’

‘The reprisals will start, Edie. The Germans took drastic revenge on ordinary civilians – whole villages sometimes – for any German officers killed by the French Resistance,
and now I expect they’ll think it’s payback time. D’you know, I can find it in my heart to feel sorry for the German women and children. I shouldn’t think they ever wanted a
war any more than we did, but they’re going to take the brunt of the retaliation when the Allies get there.’

‘Aye, you’re a more forgiving soul than I am, Lil.’ Edie smiled. ‘There ought to be more folk in the world like you.’

‘Well, somebody ought to put a stop to it. If they go on playing tit-for-tat, it’ll never be over.’

Emile suppressed a shudder as he faced Maurice and the men ranged behind him. He knew only too well what was happening right now to girls and women who had fraternized with the
enemy. They were being humiliated and ostracized – or worse. Sometimes, whole families were being punished for collaborating during the dark and difficult days of occupation.

‘She was not a collaborator – far from it. She—’ Whatever he had been going to say was cut off as Maurice barked an order.

‘Hold him.’ Two burly men ran forward, caught hold of Emile and held him fast. Though he struggled, in his weakened state after months of living rough in the woods, he was no match
for them. ‘Search everywhere. Even the house. I know she was living with the Détanges. What I don’t know is, whether or not they’re collaborators too,’ the man said
in his deep, rumbling voice.

‘No, no,’ Emile shouted. ‘They’re not. You know they’re not, Maurice.’

The big man turned on him. ‘I know you’re not, Emile. We all know you’ve worked with the Resistance since the early days. But are you sure about your parents? Can anyone be
sure of their neighbours or even of their family any more?’ There was a bitter note in the man’s voice as his cohorts searched the farmhouse and the outbuildings.

Stay hidden, Beth, Emile prayed silently. He twisted his head to see his elderly parents being hustled out of the house and into the yard. His mother was shaking, his father angry and struggling
against the men who held him.

‘Monsieur,’ Maurice turned to him. ‘We suspect you and your wife were collaborators.’

Raoul spat on the ground at the man’s feet. ‘How dare you?’ he boomed. ‘When my son risked his life every day for the likes of you to stay safely in your homes? I
didn’t see you living in the woods, Maurice Arnaud, or your family going short.’

Maurice clenched his fists and took a step towards Raoul, but then he stopped and contented himself with a glare filled with loathing, saying only between gritted teeth, ‘I’ll not
hit an old man and, for the sake of your son, you’ll not be harmed, even though you supplied the enemy with food.’ His glance included Marthe, still being held by one of his men.

Raoul glanced around the surly villagers. ‘But tell me – all of you – didn’t you do what the occupying forces told you to do – to save your lives? What good would
it have done to deny them food? They’d have taken it anyway and likely killed us too. We did
not
collaborate, but we had no choice.’

‘Yes, you did,’ one of the men holding Marthe said. ‘I’d have sooner burned my farm to the ground than let them have my crops and livestock.’

Raoul, still being held fast, twisted to look at him. ‘Ah yes. François, the shoemaker. Don’t try to tell me you never mended a German’s boot.’ The man’s
glance dropped to the ground. ‘And you, Lucas, the blacksmith, did you never shoe a German horse? And you, Victor, did they not buy meat from your butchery?’

‘I always kept enough back for the villagers,’ the man protested. ‘They were always fed first.’

‘Never mind all that now,’ Maurice snapped. ‘We all did what we had to do, we accept that now, and there’ll be no reprisals against you, Raoul. But tell me, where is the
girl?’

Raoul answered swiftly. ‘Gone.’

Maurice’s lip curled. ‘To her
friends
in Germany, no doubt. Well, let me tell you, the officer who helped her escape has been shot by his own people for helping
her.’

‘Maurice,’ Emile now spoke quietly. ‘She worked with us – she was one of us – sent from England as an agent. She was the wireless operator and at times a courier
for our circuit. She kept us in touch with London. It was she who radioed when we needed a drop or to get escapees out. And she sent the messages that sent us arms.’

They all knew that the Resistance movement had been active here and several of the villagers had helped airmen to find the route home.

For a brief moment, Maurice looked uncertain.

‘What about the time Julien Lafarge was betrayed? He was arrested and tortured before being shot and then five men from our village were shot in reprisals for having helped two British
airmen. Are you saying that girl had nothing to do with all that?’

‘I am,’ Emile said calmly.

‘Then who did betray him? It wasn’t one of us’ – Maurice gestured with his hand towards the group of men ranged around him – ‘so who?’

Emile shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but I think the “safe” house where the airmen stayed in the village sometimes was no longer safe. That’s where they were
found.’

‘You think the British airmen betrayed Julien?’

‘No, I don’t. Not for a minute. I think it was just bad luck that the Germans raided that particular house. Whether or not they had a tip-off, I don’t know.’

‘The airmen were questioned,’ Victor put in. ‘Henri Lafarge saw one of them brought out from the German headquarters across the road from his shop when they were being taken
back to a prison camp. He’d been badly beaten – he could hardly walk. The German soldiers had to drag him to the lorry. They flung him in the back. Brutes, they were.’