The team arrived about fifteen minutes later. Roger briefed them and they set about working out a plan of action. Major Owen was in charge and he invited suggestions.
‘Can we carry on digging underneath, sir?’ said Lance Corporal Parker. ‘One of us could crawl in and work on it from underneath.’
‘Too dangerous with the child still in there,’ said Roger. ‘If the earth started moving she’s just as likely to panic or distract you at a crucial moment.’
‘First, we need to fix a stethoscope on it to check there’s no timer,’ said Major Owen.
‘It’s doubtful that the timing mechanism is still intact,’ Roger said, looking at his watch. Usually there was a half hour or an hour’s delay before detonation. They had passed both.
‘That’s what Lofty Greenways thought in Hastings,’ said Private Taylor grimly.
They stopped talking for a couple of seconds as they remembered Private Greenways, blown to bits when a chance tap on the casing of a bomb restarted the timing device leaving him with no time to get clear.
‘All right, so we’d better strap a magnet to the bugger to prevent any clock starting up again,’ said Major Owen. ‘Then what? Cut a hole in the casing?’
‘And use the steam steriliser you mean?’ said Roger.
Major Owen nodded.
‘I’ll get on to it right away, sir,’ said Roger, standing up.
‘Not you, Captain Maxwell,’ said the Major.
‘This has been my case from the start, sir,’ Roger protested. ‘I should like to see it through.’
‘Not possible, I’m afraid,’ said the Major. ‘You’re too emotionally involved. You’ve just said the child is your girlfriend’s baby sister.’ He shook his head. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘She’s not actually my girlfriend,’ Roger lied, desperate not to be sent away. ‘Just a friend.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said the Major. ‘No.’
Roger had no alternative. He was outranked.
They set up arc lights run from a generator and got to work. Roger stood above them in the lane, the recommended two hundred yards distance between the UXB and the team, wishing that he could be hands on. The sappers had laid down a sandbag barrier. It was small comfort because Roger fretted knowing that Mandy didn’t have that sort of protection. However, they were a well-oiled machine and beautiful to watch. The idea was to dissolve the explosive filling with steam until it was rendered harmless. He could only hope and pray that they managed to get it all away before the detonator activated.
As the first light of dawn trickled over the horizon, they heard the child crying. At least she’s alive, he thought, but as Mandy’s wails grew louder and more desperate, he began to worry again. It sounded as if she was starting to panic. The obvious thing to do was to get the child’s mother or Connie but he knew the Major would never allow them that close to the hole until the bomb was safe. It was a mammoth task to stop himself from dashing down there to comfort her, and he could only imagine how devastated the family would be if they could hear her.
A man stood up further down Honeysuckle Lane. Eugène Étienne yawned sleepily. Isaac was still snoring gently as he sat up. PC Noble had tried to move them on but they had been reluctant to go, so they had bedded down against the wall. Connie meant too much to both of them to leave. Isaac had come to realise for the first time what she had done for him and his family and he didn’t want to let her down. Eugène had his own reasons for being there. He had known as soon as they’d laid together on that horsehair sofa that he would never feel about another woman the way he felt for Connie. As they made love, his passion for her only grew stronger. He didn’t just love her, he adored her. He had wanted to tell her that morning but then she had pre-empted him by telling him she’d made a terrible mistake. He couldn’t have her, he knew that now. She was with Roger. It cut him to ribbons to see them together but if Roger made her happy that was all that mattered. He got up and came sleepily towards him.
‘She’s crying,’ he said unnecessarily.
‘I hear that,’ said Roger tetchily.
‘Do you want me to get Connie?’
Roger shook his head. ‘I can’t allow her any closer.’
‘We could sing to her,’ said Eugène.
‘Sing?’ Then all at once Roger half remembered a conversation he’d had with Connie once when she’d talked of her little sister. She’d told him of Mandy’s favourite song. Dear God, what was it?
The Major must have thought he had gone completely mad when Eugène stood in front of the sandbags and burst into song. ‘You are my sunshine, my only sunshine …’ As his rich baritone voice filled the misty dawn air, Roger joined in. The men working around the bomb heard her quiet down and finally understood what they were doing. After a while, Major Owen gave them the thumbs up and Roger clambered down to him.
‘False alarm,’ said the Major. ‘Bloody thing was filled with this.’ He lifted his hand and poured a pale substance from one hand to the other.
‘So we can get her out now?’
The Major nodded. ‘The only danger now is falling earth.’ Eugène climbed back up the bank and called Isaac. He came back down the plank walkway with the wheelbarrow.
The back door was unlocked. Roger opened it quietly and looked around. Clifford and Gwen were locked in each other’s arms asleep on the sofa. Someone had covered them with a blanket. Connie sat at the kitchen table, her head on her arms. As he opened the door, she felt the cold air on her legs and sat up. She looked terrible. Her hair was wild and she had dark circles under her eyes. He longed to take her in his arms and tell her it was going to be all right, but it wasn’t over yet. He put his finger to his mouth and motioned her forward. Connie crept outside quietly and they didn’t speak until they were on the lane.
‘The bomb wasn’t dangerous after all,’ he told her.
Connie frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It was filled with sawdust,’ said Roger and as he saw her jaw drop he added, ‘Probably sabotaged by the forced labour who made them.’
Connie flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him until he could hardly breathe. ‘So we can get her out now?’
Coming back from the hole with a full wheelbarrow, Eugène saw them together. He closed his eyes in agony and leaned his head back. It was hard watching the girl he loved with someone else. Connie and Roger were running back to the site hand in hand.
After all the waiting, it didn’t take long. The soldiers had supported the weight of the bomb with shoring and they’d made short work of the remaining soil. As soon as it was safe, Connie lay on the boards and reached out her hand. She moved her arm around the opening, calling Mandy’s name softly and then she felt a fluttering on her fingertips.
‘I can feel her!’ she cried. ‘Mandy, we’re coming. Oh, I can’t quite reach.’
‘Here, miss, let me,’ said Private Taylor. He was a tall man and quite thin. His arms were definitely longer than hers so Connie moved away. Taylor reached down the hole. They heard Mandy whimper and then Taylor pulled.
She came out smoothly although the earth was falling all around her. When she saw Taylor, she looked absolutely terrified until Connie scooped her into her arms and hugged her tight. The child felt very cold and of course she was filthy dirty. She smelled of urine and her dress was wet. Roger handed Connie a tin mug of lukewarm tea and when she put it to her lips, Mandy drank greedily. The men, their faces wreathed in smiles, applauded.
‘Mr Charles …’ said Mandy, burying herself under Connie’s armpit.
‘You don’t have to see him,’ Connie whispered, the old rage rising up inside once more. There was a shout from the bank and the next minute Gwen and Clifford were scrambling down.
‘I’ll get the car,’ said Roger as Connie put Mandy into her mother’s arms. ‘We should get her checked out in hospital.’
They squeezed into Roger’s car, Clifford in the front and Gwen on the back seat with Mandy straddled across her lap. Roger pulled Connie towards him and kissed her. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ he said earnestly.
As they sped away Connie looked around. Eugène and Isaac came across to stand beside her. A clod of damp earth fell from the front of Connie’s dress. She was crying now … tears of relief, joy and exhaustion. Eugène reached out his arms and she leaned gratefully onto his chest. He didn’t say anything. He just let her cry and held her tenderly. When she was done, he gave her his handkerchief. ‘Not very clean, I’m afraid.’
Connie didn’t care. ‘Eugène, I know you’re tired, but would you and Isaac do one more thing for me?’
‘Of course.’
‘You heard what happened to my dog? Take me to see Pip.’
It was still very early but there were lights on in the vet’s house. He had his surgery in two rooms purpose built onto the side of the house. When she got out of Isaac’s old motor, Connie was conscious for the first time how dirty she was. She tried to smooth down her crumpled dress and run her fingers through her messy hair. She was embarrassed to be out and about looking so awful but the need to see Pip overruled everything else.
Mrs Fielding opened the door to the three of them in her dressing gown.
‘I’m sorry to …’ Connie began.
‘Come in,’ said Mrs Fielding stepping aside. She was holding a cup of tea. ‘My husband was hoping that you would come soon. He’s been up all night. Go straight through.’
Mrs Fielding followed them through the surgery door and put the tea down on the desk where Mr Fielding was sitting. He had his back to them. ‘Your tea is there, dear,’ said Mrs Fielding, ‘and Connie has come.’
When he turned, he was hollow-eyed and unshaven. He stifled a yawn. ‘Ah, Connie,’ said Mr Fielding smacking his lips. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear he’s still with us.’
After taking a gulp of his tea, Mr Fielding led them into the other room. Pip lay on a couple of blankets. He looked much the same as he had done when they’d found him, except that there was now a large blood-stained bandage around his middle. His eyes were closed. Mr Fielding knelt and began dripping water from a dropper onto his mouth and the dog moved his tongue.
‘I don’t know how he’s managed to keep going this long,’ he said. ‘These injuries would have taken a much younger dog hours ago.’
‘Any idea how he got them?’ Eugène asked.
‘My guess is that he was hit several times with something heavy,’ said Mr Fielding. ‘A piece of wood perhaps and he’s been viciously kicked as well.’
‘So it was no accident then?’ said Isaac.
‘Absolutely not,’ said the vet. ‘There’s a definite imprint of the boot on his side. I heard what happened to your little sister, Connie, so I took a photograph just in case this had anything to do with her being in that hole.’
Connie knelt beside Pip and stroked his head. His tail flickered slightly and he opened his eyes.
‘Can you save him?’ Eugène asked. ‘If it’s a question of money …’
Mr Fielding shook his head. ‘There’s nothing more I can do, but he’s got this far …’
Connie and Pip locked eyes. She could feel her throat getting tighter and it was hard to hold back the tears. ‘Oh, Pip,’ she said softly. ‘You’re such a brave little dog. I love you so much. I’m so sorry.’ She kissed the dog’s muzzle. ‘We got her out,’ she said. ‘Mandy is safe now.’
Again the tail flickered and Pip gazed up at her, adoration in his eyes. Connie could hardly see as her tears fell freely, but as she cradled his head in her hands and kissed him she saw something pass across his eyes. What was it? Fear? No, Pip was fearless. Sadness? No, it wasn’t that either. Pip was at peace with himself. The look stayed for a second and then he slowly closed his eyes for the last time. As his head relaxed in her hands, Connie realised what she’d just seen. It was the last tender goodbye.