They explained their idea to Luke when he woke up about lunchtime.
‘Whatever you think best, but I’m just so concerned about putting you both in danger. And Waldo too.’
‘The boys both made their own choices,’ Brigitta said, ‘and we have to abide by it. Just the same as your family have had to honour your decision.’
Luke glanced at William and grimaced. ‘There was one who didn’t? I think you can guess who?’
William looked puzzled. ‘Your mam? I wouldn’t think Peggy would be too happy about it.’
‘Well, she isn’t. And Harry has joined the RAF too, so she’s both of us to worry about, but I think she’s proud of us too. No, it was Granddad Dawson. He threatened to disinherit me if I joined up.’
‘If you joined up?’ William repeated, bemused.
Luke nodded. ‘Yes. That’s what surprised us all. Exactly the opposite to last time. We think it’s all about what he wants at the time. He didn’t want me to enlist because he wanted me to carry on his business and an agricultural worker is classed as a reserved occupation. He believes he could have got an exemption for me. But – I didn’t give him the chance.’
‘And he wanted me to enlist because everyone else was doing it and it shamed him to have a coward in the family.’ William paused and then asked, ‘What about Harry?’
‘Granddad isn’t bothered about him. When he was born, he seemed prepared to treat him as one of the family, but now he’s always saying Harry’s not his blood relative and has no claim on his business.’
‘That’s a bit unkind,’ Brigitta said and then glanced at William. ‘Sorry, darling. It’s not my place to speak out.’
William touched her arm. ‘But you’re quite right. So, Luke, are you willing to take the risk of hiding in plain sight, as it were?’
‘Of course. And you want me not to speak at all?’
William and Brigitta exchanged a glance. ‘We think it best, though we can’t be absolutely sure that will work. If the patrols get nosy, they may still want to send you to Germany as forced labour.’
‘I’m willing to take that chance. It’d be better than opening my mouth and proving I’m English.’
‘Can you speak any French or German?’ Brigitta asked.
Luke pulled a face. ‘A few words of French, but not enough to pass as a Frenchman.’ He turned to William. ‘Why have the Germans allowed you to stay here? Is it because you’re married to Aunt Brigitta?’
Brigitta giggled suddenly. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve been called that – I rather like it.’ She put her arm round his shoulders. ‘Oh Luke, it’s so good to see you, even under these difficult circumstances.’
William smiled and answered his question. ‘Partly, I think, but mainly because I look after the military cemetery here and also tend the German graves at Langemark. I’ll take you there. If we’re seen looking after their graves, perhaps it will help stop any uncomfortable questions. But today, we’ll start here. Are you feeling up to a little work?’
‘Of course.’
‘Still no news?’ Henrietta asked. She called every day now to see Norah.
Norah pressed her lips together and shook her head, banging the flat iron down onto the shirt she was ironing in an angry movement. ‘You’d think they’d send word, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, in this case, Mrs Dawson, I think no news is decidedly good news. It means they haven’t heard for definite that he’s been killed. You must cling to that.’
Norah sighed. ‘I know you’re right, Mrs Maitland, and it’s so good of you to come each day.’ She looked up and tried to smile. ‘It does buoy us up. Me and Bess.’
‘I just want to know you’re all right, my dear. It’s a tough time for you all.’
Tactfully, without actually mentioning his name, she included Len. Catching on, Norah said, ‘Aye, it is. Len dun’t say much – in fact, he won’t mention it – but I know he’s feeling it. He’s working harder than ever to deal with it. Burying hissen in work. I have to say I’m lucky in one way. He hasn’t turned to the drink to drown his sorrows. I dun’t reckon I could deal with that.’
Henrietta sniffed and thought, not with his temper inflamed by drink, no, you couldn’t, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Instead she said, ‘Philippa rings almost every night now and Daisy whenever she can. I think she’s in contact with Luke’s friend on the airfield where they were stationed. They’ve heard nothing either.’
‘Then we’ll just have to keep waiting, Mrs Maitland, won’t we?’
Henrietta nodded. ‘And hoping.’
As she walked back to the hall, she was stopped three times on the way by villagers enquiring after Luke.
William took Luke to the local military cemetery. ‘Is this where Uncle George’s friend is buried?’
‘No, that’s near Brandhoek. I go there too sometimes. We’ll go and see if we can find it. How is George, by the way?’
Luke stared at him. ‘Oh Lor’. Of course, I was totally forgetting. You won’t know, will you? George was killed in the London Blitz. His daughter, Rebecca, too. She was visiting him at the time.’
William turned white. Hoarsely, he asked, ‘And Pips?’
Luke shook his head. ‘She’s fine. She wasn’t there when it happened. She’s working away from London – though none of us know exactly what she’s doing. Here, Uncle William, sit down a minute. You’ve had a shock. It was stupid of me not to realize you haven’t heard news from home for months.’
‘It’s years now. Pips’s last letter arrived just before the occupation and we’ve had nothing from either Pips or Alice since.’
‘I’m not sure what you do know, then.’
‘Not much, I’m guessing. Tell me.’
They sat together on a bench at the side of the cemetery whilst Luke told William briefly about what had happened since the beginning of the war; about Dunkirk, the Battle of Britain and then about the Blitz. William knew some of it, but not all. As he talked, Luke gazed out over the sea of white markers and this, he remembered, was only a comparatively small cemetery in this area. So many lives lost and now it was all happening again.
‘We’re still getting bombed, of course, all over the country now,’ he told William, ‘but the London Blitz was horrific. Night after night for months. Ironically, poor Uncle George was killed on the very worst night of the whole campaign. After that they eased up a bit for some reason. You see, they were trying to get control of the skies as a prelude to invasion, but they didn’t manage it.’
‘Because of you RAF boys, I expect.’
Luke grinned and said modestly, ‘Well, we did our bit, I suppose. At least Churchill seemed to think so.’ Then his face sobered. ‘We lost a lot of pilots – all fine men – and aircraft too. You won’t know that Daisy has joined the Air Transport Auxiliary and delivers all sorts of different aeroplanes – though mainly Spitfires now – all over the country. She loves the Spitfire. There’s a women’s section and she’s one of the pilots.’
‘Good heavens! Little Daisy? Really?’
Luke chuckled. ‘Yes, really.’
William lifted his head as he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. ‘I think someone’s coming. We’d better get working. Here.’ He handed Luke a thin-tined fork. ‘Start at the far end of that row and clear any weeds from around the markers.’
‘Right.’
‘And remember, if it is the Germans, you don’t speak.’
Luke nodded.
By the time the German staff car pulled up and the officer alighted from the back seat, they were both hard at work with their heads down.
The officer came towards William. He was tall and straight-backed, but limped a little. As he drew close, he was looking at William intently.
‘Are you Wilhelm Dawson?’ He spoke very good English, though he used the German form of the name.
William straightened up. ‘Yes, sir. I am.’
‘The Englishman who married a Belgian nurse after the last war and lives on a farm near here?’
‘That’s correct, sir.’
‘Yes, I have been told about you. You also tend the cemeteries around here and so have been allowed to stay.’ This time it was a statement rather than a question.
‘Yes, sir.’
The man grunted and nodded. ‘Four months ago, I was posted here to Ypres to control this area.’
‘Yes, I think I’ve seen you driving round,’ William murmured.
‘I cannot be sent on active service. I was wounded in the last war.’ He looked about him, his glance coming to rest on Luke. ‘Who is he?’
‘My wife’s cousin’s boy.’ Because Brigitta had no siblings – which would be an easy fact to check – they had thought to make the relationship a little vaguer. ‘He has come to stay with us for a while, so I thought I would make use of him. An extra pair of hands is always welcome.’
‘Where is he from?’
This was something that they hadn’t thought to plan, so William was obliged to say the first thing that came into his head: the place Luke had mentioned.
‘Dranouter, sir.’ Mentally, William crossed his fingers, hoping the officer wouldn’t have heard of a Spitfire crashing in that area.
‘Mm. I don’t know where that is,’ he murmured, but it didn’t seem to require an answer, so William said nothing.
‘Why is he not serving in the armed forces?’
‘He – has a speech difficulty, sir. I think he failed a medical.’
‘Mm.’ The officer stared towards Luke for a long moment, then he turned and gazed again at William, frowning slightly.
Then with a sudden movement, a swift nod, he turned away, walked back to his car and was gone. William and Luke carried on working until the car was safely out of sight.
Two nights later, Waldo came to the farm, sitting down at the table to wolf down the meal his mother had prepared for him just in case he should appear.
‘We never know when he might come,’ Brigitta explained to Luke, ‘so I am always ready.’
‘It’s good to see you again,’ Waldo said to Luke in perfect English. He and his elder brother had been brought up to be bilingual. ‘It’s been a long time, though I’m sorry it has to be under these circumstances.’
‘Me too.’
When Waldo had finished eating, they sat around the fire and discussed what could be done to help Luke get back to England.
‘We could send him down the ordinary escape routes,’ Waldo said. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Is there any way of letting them know back home that I’m OK?’
‘I can get one of my pianists to send a message through the usual channels.’
Luke was puzzled. ‘Pianist?’
‘It’s what the resistance call their radio operators.’
‘I suppose you send it all in code?’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, I’ve got an idea for the message that wouldn’t be easily understood unless it gets to the right people.’
When he told them, they all laughed. ‘You’d make a very good agent,’ Waldo complimented him.
‘No, I’m better flying my Spitfire, if I can just get back home.’