Hari was still in tears the next morning. She was all sorts of a fool for asking Michael to tea, showing off really to Meryl by bringing him to Swansea yet again. Her father held her while she cried and then begged her to tell him what was wrong. ‘Is it Meryl?’ His voice was anxious. ‘She vanished so suddenly after those men came to the house.’
Hari shook her head. ‘No, well… yes.’
‘Where is she now?’ His voice was fearful and Hari knew he was anxious about his youngest daughter; she was afraid for Meryl too.
‘She’s gone, she’s probably in Carmarthen now or captured by the military police.’ Hari felt the tears well up again. ‘It’s my fault, I wanted Michael to come to Swansea. Meryl warned me of the danger but selfishly, I just wanted to see him.’
‘Don’t blame yourself, Angharad—’ her father put his arm around her shoulder—‘you and the boy are in love, it’s only natural you wanted to be together.’
Hari hadn’t credited her father with so much understanding and, impulsively, she hugged him. ‘But about Meryl,’ she began. He shook his head.
‘We mustn’t worry about her,’ he said, ‘our Meryl has a core of steel, she can look after herself.’ And yet his voice shook even as he spoke.
Hari was working nights and before she left the house she made her father corned-beef hash and opened a tin of peas to go with it. She had some dripping in the pan from last week’s pathetically small roast and she used it to mix with flour and potato water to make the gravy. She ate very little and hoped her father wouldn’t notice. Of course, he did.
‘Starving yourself will do no one any good.’ His voice was stern. ‘Come on, girl, eat up. Have some bread to dip in the gravy, it really is very tasty.’
Hari longed to be alone so that she could worry in peace about Michael. Where was he? Had he been caught? She longed to drive down to the farm but knew it would be foolish to take the risk as she might be followed.
It was with relief that she kissed her father’s cheek and climbed into her car and drove away. Although she loved her father dearly, she was becoming tired of sharing her life with him. She was used to being alone, dealing with her problems on her own.
All night, Hari took messages, insignificant messages, and then, when she was almost asleep, the news came through that Italy had surrendered and for a moment hope filled her heart—was the war almost over? Listening hard, Hari heard that Germany had taken over where the Italians had left off and once again her heart was plunged into fear and despair. Would the war, the danger, never end?