I became accustomed to the routine of going to work on the radio section in the big, sprawling building that stood out like a landmark on the flat countryside near Hamburg. I became so used to speaking German that sometimes, even in my thoughts, I used German words.
The girls around me became my firm friends, especially the flirtatious Eva, a fluffy blonde girl with a beautiful face and a clinical, clever brain. Even Frau Hoffman had warmed enough to smile occasionally. As one of the girls remarked, ‘She must be in love.’
And yet sometimes, feeling absurdly like a traitor to Germany, I would take my box of ‘sanitary products’ with me into the fields as far away from my home and my workplace as my bike would take me and send any potentially useful pieces of information back, I hoped, to Hari in Bridgend.
The winter of 1944 was long, spring seemed determined not to come. I spent my evenings mostly alone in the farmhouse, practising codes on pieces of paper.
One night, I was almost sleeping in my chair with the fire dying in the hearth when I heard the sound of a car outside. I sat up; it must be Herr Euler, who sometimes made a call home at odd times. I wondered if it was to check up on me but so far he’d caught me doing no more than reading or writing endless letters to Michael that he probably seldom received.
The door was opened by a lady driver. She stared at me and I stared back, wondering what the heck was going on now; Herr Euler had no time for lady drivers.
And then my mouth split from ear to ear as Michael came hopping into the room on crutches. He looked well in spite of the bandaged foot and his smile matched mine when he saw me.
‘Liebling!’ I went forward to meet him, elbowing aside the pretty lady driver jealously. ‘Thank you for your help but I will take charge of my husband from now on,’ I said pointedly.
‘Give the lady a cup of tea,’ Michael said, making an eye gesture at me, showing he’d read my feelings well. ‘She’s to meet her fiancé later but she surely has time for some refreshment.’
Fuming, I made the tea and then I sat as close to Michael as I could get in view of the fact his crutches were poking into my legs. ‘What’s happened my love?’ I touched his hair with wifely concern. He grinned, well aware of my jealousy.
‘I crash-landed; luckily I made it back to the airport but the Focke’s undercarriage came off and a bit of twisted metal caught my ankle. It’s nothing; a couple of stitches fixed it up and the plane’s not too badly damaged.’
‘A nasty gash though,’ the driver said knowingly. I gave her a piercing glance. ‘Well, thank you for driving my husband home I expect you’ll want to be on your way.’
She hastily finished her tea and smiled at Michael. ‘Take care sir, and good luck.’ She glanced at me defiantly as she rested her hand on Michael’s shoulder. I resisted the urge to kick her out of the house.
‘Goodbye.’ I shut the door before she got to her car. ‘Lights,’ I said to Michael, and he laughed.
‘Green ones in your eyes?’
‘Are you saying I’m jealous?’
‘I am.’
‘Well, what do you expect arriving home with a fluffy blonde? She was very familiar with you considering she has a fiancé.’
‘War has a strange effect on people.’
‘Not strange enough for you to flirt with her.’
He caught me in his arms and placed me on his knee. ‘Mind my ankle,’ he said and kissed me.
It was wonderful to wake in the morning and see Michael asleep beside me. He was so dear, so handsome, so mine—at least for now.
He opened his blue eyes fringed by long lashes and smiled his sweet smile. I turned into his warm body and he put his arms around me. ‘I do love you,’ I said softly. He said nothing though he planted a kiss on my forehead. ‘At least I’ve got you for a little while,’ I said, hoping he would say something like ‘forever’ but he did not speak at all and I wondered if I would ever know the truth of his feeling for me. Did he still love Hari or did he love me more now? I was too afraid to ask.
At first he did not make love to me and I was afraid it was over, that his conscience had stricken him when he thought of betraying my sister. But being together in a bed every night breaks down barriers and one night, I clung to him and deliberately pressed my full breasts against him.
I felt him respond; he groaned and then he was kissing my shoulders, my breasts, taking my hard nipple into his hot mouth. Was it just the lust of a man too long without a woman, facing death every time he took to the skies? I didn’t care, he was here and for now we were together, really together and nothing else mattered.