OVER

Kim was too heavy for me. I tried and failed to lift her, angry with myself for being so weak. I sobbed and called her name, falling back in the burn as I lost my footing, getting up and trying again. And then Erik came and gently moved me to one side.

He picked her up from the water, grimacing from the pain in his foot, and carried Kim to the bank, where he laid her on her back. He put his hands on her chest and pushed down, repeating the movement a few times before Kim opened her eyes wide and took a deep breath. She stared, looking around in surprise, as if she didn’t have any idea where she was.

Erik stroked her head and smiled.

‘It’s all right,’ I said.

‘What happened?’ she asked. Her voice was hoarse, as if she had a sore throat.

‘You fell over,’ I said. ‘Dunched your head.’

‘Trevor . . .’ she said.

‘He’s gone.’

She closed her eyes.

‘You’re freezin’,’ I said, touching her face.

‘Did they see Erik?’ She spoke with her eyes closed and she sounded woozy, as if she was falling asleep.

‘Aye. They saw ’im.’

‘Do they know who he is?’

‘Prob’ly, aye.’

‘Then he needs to get away.’ Her words were quiet now, almost a whisper.

‘What I need to do is get you somewhere warm. You need help. Come on.’

I shook her and she opened her eyes, just a crack, but she didn’t focus on me. Her eyes were rolling and when she closed them again, I could see the movement under her eyelids.

‘She needs help,’ I said to Erik. ‘Help. Doctor.’

Erik nodded. ‘Doctor.’

He handed me his pistol, then put his hands under Kim’s body and lifted her as if she were a princess. Her arms hung by her sides, her legs dangled as if all her muscles had relaxed.

‘You need to get away,’ Kim said to Erik. ‘Get away.’ But we ignored her, and I crossed the burn and began walking through the woods. Erik limped behind me, carrying Kim in his arms.

Our progress was slow despite the urgency. Erik was weak from everything that had happened to him, and I tried to help as much as I could but Kim was too heavy for me to carry. We struggled to take her under the fence without hurting her, and together we climbed the hill.

Every few seconds I looked at Kim’s face, putting my hand to her chest to check she was still breathing. Erik hobbled and twisted his face in pain as he carried her, but not once did he put her down or stop to rest. He breathed heavily as we climbed the hill and there was sweat on his forehead, running down into his eyes.

A gentle breeze slipped over the crest of the hill, cooling me as I looked down at Hawthorn Lodge.

It hadn’t been more than ten minutes since Erik fired the gun, but already an army truck had stopped on the lane and soldiers were heading across the field in our direction. Five or six of them, with their rifles pointed towards us. There were others by the vehicle, one of them leaning on the bonnet, sighting along the barrel of his rifle, but still Erik didn’t hesitate. He limped on, holding Kim in his arms.

Behind the truck, Mr Bennett was standing one pace ahead of Mam, holding his hand back to stop her from coming to us. Trevor Ridley and his gang were there, too, looking on with excitement.

Above, the sun shone in a blue sky peppered with only a few wisps of cloud.

The soldiers advanced, calling out when they were close to us, telling us to halt. But we ignored them and kept on, coming closer and closer, stopping only when we were just a few feet from them. It was Lieutenant Whatshisname, the one who had come into our kitchen that day. Sergeant Wilkes was beside him, rifle raised.

‘We got ’im,’ he was saying. ‘We should shoot ’im now. They’re sneaky, these Jerries.’

The lieutenant held up his left hand to silence Sergeant Wilkes. In his right, he clutched a revolver, pointed at Erik. ‘You all right, young man?’ he asked me. ‘We heard shooting. Did he do this? Is this the German?’

‘Course it was ’im,’ said the sergeant, still aiming his rifle at Erik. ‘He’s dangerous. Don’t trust ’im. Look, he’s hurt that lass.’ Beside and behind him, the other soldiers bristled like dogs expecting a fight.

‘That’s ’im,’ Trevor Ridley shouted. ‘That’s the German. He tried to shoot us. He did it. Get ’im. Shoot ’im.’

‘No,’ I said coming forward. ‘No. It wasn’t ’im. He’s just tryin’ to help.’

The lieutenant narrowed his eyes. ‘Trying to help?’

‘It was them lads,’ I said, pointing. ‘They’re the ones what pushed her in the burn. She banged her head and now she needs help. It was them what did this. Erik’s tryin’ to help.’

‘Erik?’

‘That’s his name.’

‘The German?’ He lowered his pistol a little.

‘Aye,’ I said. He’s a good man. He’s our friend.’

And Erik stepped forward, lifting out his arms. His face was contorted with the strain of holding Kim, but he stayed like that until the lieutenant lowered his pistol completely and spoke again.

‘Wilkes, take the girl.’

‘But, sir—’

‘Take the girl.’

‘What about the Jerry? Do you want me to secure ’im or—’

‘Take the girl, man; do it quickly. That’s an order.’

‘Sir.’ Sergeant Wilkes came forward, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He took Kim from Erik and stepped back.

‘Get her down to the doctor, right away.’

‘Maybe one of the others should—’

‘Now, sergeant.’

‘Sir.’ Sergeant Wilkes turned and hurried back to the truck.

Then it was my turn to step forward. I took Erik’s pistol from my waistband and held it out to the lieutenant. ‘He’s surrenderin’,’ I said. ‘You can’t shoot ’im.’

‘Shoot him?’

‘I know you want to but I won’t let you,’ I said. ‘You can’t. He’s not so different from us, you know.’

The lieutenant took the pistol from me. ‘No one’s shooting anyone, son. We don’t shoot prisoners who come quietly. Not in this king’s army.’

I looked over at Sergeant Wilkes laying Kim on the grass and Doctor Jacobs coming to her side. ‘Not even him?’ I said. ‘The sergeant?’

‘Not anyone. We’re not barbarians, son.’

‘Promise? On your life?’

He saluted. ‘I promise.’ Then he turned and gestured to the other soldiers, and two of them came forward to take their prisoner. But when the first of them reached out to grab Erik’s arm, the German airman pulled away and took a step towards me.

‘Halt!’ shouted the lieutenant as he raised his pistol and, behind him, rifles rattled as the soldiers bristled and weapons were pointed.

But Erik ignored them as he stood straight, looked me in the eye and extended his hand.

‘Stand down,’ the lieutenant said to his men. ‘It’s all right.’

I reached out with my own and let Erik close his fingers around mine in a handshake.

‘Freund,’ he said.

‘Friend.’ ‘Friend.’ I nodded.

And then the soldiers took his arms and pulled him away, breaking his grip, unbalancing him and dragging him on his heels until he found his footing. They walked him to the back of the truck and ushered him inside.

As he stepped up, my friend Erik looked back at me. He nodded once and smiled. Then the soldiers closed the door, and he was gone.