Winter on the Mersey(58)

Laura’s hand went to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She knew she would have been terrified if such a thing had happened to her. It was unthinkable, her poor brother lying wounded and far from home, unable to do anything to help himself. ‘What happened then?’ she prompted gently.

‘Slowly, really slowly, I began to improve,’ he said. ‘I started to talk back to them in French. I tried to help them out in small ways. I could see they were taking a big risk in hiding me. If I had been discovered by the enemy, or if someone had betrayed my whereabouts, they could have been killed. I owe them my life. Once I was up and about, able to move on my own, I started to do things for them around the farm, but I still didn’t know who I was. One or two of them spoke a little English, and of course they knew I was British from my pilot’s uniform. They’d had to burn that – well, they said that it was pretty burnt anyway after the plane crash. They’d try to get me to talk about my past, but it was like there was a big curtain drawn across everything before that day.

‘I tried to ask where I was and they brought me a map. It was a very rough one, and of course all in French, but it made sense to me. Then I began to remember – not my name or where I was from, but that I’d been taught about maps.’

‘That makes sense, you must have done heaps of navigation training,’ Laura said, taking a drink from her glass. It wasn’t quite a cocktail from the admiral’s cabinet, but it would do. ‘Go on.’

‘It was very strange, the way all that detail returned but not the personal stuff,’ Freddy said, shaking his head slowly. ‘I told them what sort of things I’d learnt about and they began to ask me more and more. It became clear after a while that they wanted me to join them.’

‘Join them? Doing what? Being a farmer?’

‘No, silly,’ Freddy said with a familiar mix of affection and exasperation. ‘All right, I did do chores around the farm as so many of the young men who’d done the work before weren’t around any more.’

‘Just like home,’ said Laura.

‘But to be honest I wasn’t very good,’ he admitted. ‘I still had trouble walking properly – I’d taken this huge bash to the head, as you can see, and I’d been burned a fair bit. All that time of lying still had affected my muscles too. I could barely lift a spade to begin with.’ He sighed. ‘No, what they really wanted me for was my map reading and knowledge of navigation. They were with the Resistance, you see.’

Laura nodded. It made sense now. ‘So you stayed with them? Didn’t you want to try to get home?’

Freddy shrugged apologetically. ‘I might have, if I could have said where home was. But I honestly couldn’t. So I thought the best thing to do was stay with them and be of use that way. I didn’t know who to contact, and unless I stayed hidden I was a risk to them. So I kept below the radar, literally.’

Laura tried to understand what it must have been like, but it was a struggle. Part of her wondered if Freddy hadn’t really wanted to get back to his old life. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to let their parents or her know he was still alive and with the underground in France. Yet at the same time she told herself not to be so stupid. None of it had been his fault, and he’d ended up fighting the Nazis in a way that few others could have done.

‘It would have been almost impossible to have got me back to Blighty,’ he explained, sensing her concern. ‘I had no papers, nothing. Everything that could have identified me went up in flames in the crash, they told me. So bit by bit I became involved in their organisation, making new maps, advising them, that sort of thing, and doing some translation too when my French got much better. I’m pretty fluent now,’ he said with a grin. ‘One of the perks.’

Laura frowned. ‘What changed, then? Was it D-day?’

‘Things had been going our way for a while, but out in the countryside it was often hard to tell,’ he said. ‘Getting exact news was very hit and miss. But yes, finally the Allies got near and I knew it was safe to try to get home. My memory was returning and I could recall my name, where I was from, and what I’d been doing before that final mission. I even remembered I had a sister and that she could be a frightful pain.’

Laura punched him on the arm. ‘You deserved that,’ she admonished him. ‘So you sent me that note, then? How did you know where I’d be?’

Freddy lifted his pint of beer and took a long drink. He nodded. ‘This is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time, I don’t mind telling you,’ he said. ‘Nothing beats a pint of proper beer. You should taste what they have in France. The wine is lovely but the beer, oh dear.’

Laura looked at him. ‘I’m sure you’re right. But go on, how did you know how to get that note to me? Why all the cloak-and-dagger business?’

Freddy glanced down as he set the pint back on the rickety table and his expression grew sheepish. ‘Actually, there’s a rum story behind it. One hell of a coincidence, you could say.’

Laura’s face was quizzical. ‘What was that? Freddy, out with it. I nearly went crazy when I got that note.’

Freddy’s face fell. ‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I thought you’d work it out. I didn’t do it to make you cross, it’s just that I had to be vague in order not to put anyone in the line of contact in jeopardy.’