Page 53 of The Stranger in Room Six
‘Please don’t hurt me.’
The man chuckled softly. ‘I won’t. Even if I was going to, I am behind the wire and you are on the other side. But I am a gentleman, I would never hurt a lady. In fact, I would never hurt anyone.’
‘Are you a prisoner of war?’ she trembled.
‘I am.’
‘But if you wouldn’t hurt anyone, why are you a soldier?’
‘I was forced to enlist, just like your men in England – and some ladies too. I was a foreign-language student before that, though.’
Ladies enlisting? She hadn’t heard about that.
There was the sound of a shrill whistle.
‘I must go back,’ he said. ‘I came to get some fresh air. I am not a good singer!’
‘Nor am I,’ she said suddenly. ‘I try but I can’t seem to hit the right notes.’
‘I know what that’s like,’ he laughed. He seemed so normal, not like an enemy at all.
Then she noticed a book poking out of his pocket, the name ‘Shakespeare’ just visible over the hem.
‘I’m reading Shakespeare too!’ she blurted out. ‘I’ve just been given a copy of his sonnets for Christmas.’
His face brightened. ‘Really? My favourite is number –’
Then a second whistle sounded. ‘I must go. If this was another place and time, we could talk for longer.’
On the way back Mabel was besieged with loathing for herself. How could she have spoken in such friendly terms to the enemy? What had she been thinking? They were part of the enemy who had taken Papa.
‘I’m sorry, God,’ she began to pray silently as she rounded the corner to the Old Rectory. ‘Please keep my father safe and …’
What was that shouting and swearing?
Mabel stared with disbelief as the Colonel was being bundled out of the house by two burly policemen.
Clarissa was standing on the doorstep, screaming. ‘Let him go! He hasn’t done anything wrong. And how dare you search our house, invade our privacy like that?’
‘How can you be surprised, madam, with all these comings and goings on Christmas Eve, suspicious papers and now this stolen list? A search is the least you can expect.’
The noise was so loud it was hard to hear who was saying what. But the Colonel’s voice rose above the others. ‘I swear to you,’ he was yelling, ‘I don’t know about any bloody list.’
‘Just as you didn’t know about the pamphlets with swastikas we found in your library. Those words about making Britain great again and fighting for a better future? They look to me like the work of a traitor. The BUF is illegal now, as well you know. You’re not fooling me, sir.’
‘Like I told you. Someone must have planted them there. Get off me. You’re hurting me.’
‘Then I suggest you go calmly,’ said a second policeman firmly shutting the rear door on him. Mabel stepped back as the car shot off down the drive, sending dust flying up from the gravel as it went.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked, running to her aunt.
Clarissa’s eyes were red. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she wept. ‘Go away and leave me in peace.’ Then she ran up the stairs towards her room and slammed the door shut.
There was only one person who would tell her the truth, Mabel thought, racing down to the kitchen.
Cook was sitting at the table, shaking. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she kept saying. ‘All those dinners … All those posh visitors! I could kick myself. How did I not see what was going on? I’m just trying to do my job and now I find out that we’ve been entertaining folk who want Hitler to win.’
Mabel gasped. ‘The policeman said something about the BUF. What’s that?’
