The war was over, officially, at last. Troops were still fighting in Burma but they would be home soon. The Japanese had surrendered after the huge bombs were dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima and I was a woman who was still a wife, not a widow as I’d believed for so long. My regret was that Herr Euler never could know his son and his grandson were alive and well.
When I visited Daddy in Swansea I learned that Michael was being held in Island Farm; he’d escaped and been recaptured and I had very little idea when he would be released. Hari and I didn’t speak.
As I trudged now across the grassland towards the prison, I hoped yet again to catch a glimpse of him. That’s all I could hope for, he was still a German prisoner of war and I’d be risking his life if I said anything different.
This time he was there. My heart leapt as I saw Michael looking at me from beyond the fence, a smile on his face.
‘Hello wife.’ He spoke in German and I understood it was his cover. If the truth was known about his background the other prisoners would lynch him. ‘How are you keeping?’ His tone was jocular, I still had no idea how he felt. I wanted to ask if he had made his choice between us, between me and my sister Hari, but we couldn’t talk intimately. Even as we stood looking at each other a British soldier came along and pointed a gun at Michael. ‘Move!’ he ordered.
‘We’re being sent back to Germany any day now.’ Michael spoke quickly. When I’m discharged I’ll come back and…’ He didn’t finish his sentence, the soldier jabbed him and moved him on giving me a filthy look.
I caught sight of Hari, her red hair flying in the wind, but I was too sick at heart to stop. I hurried away as if I hadn’t seen her. She was visiting my husband and I wondered if he had made her any promises.
I caught the bus to the station and sat staring sightlessly out of the window wondering if making love, even having a child by a man, was enough to hold him.
It took me forever to get home. I had settled back into the farmhouse with George of all people—no longer my enemy but my dear friend—and his devoted wife Violet, living with me while they decided if they would move to Swansea or turn one of the barns on the farm into a cottage. For the time being they would work the farm for me and George had plans for when Michael came home.
‘We’ll build this place up, Meryl, you’ll see.’ George was sitting at the kitchen table when I got in, his wellingtons full of the good earth of Carmarthen, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. ‘Vi has settled now she knows we won’t be living in Mam’s house very much longer.’
‘Thank goodness for that!’ My words were heartfelt.
‘We’ll restock the animals and grow potatoes and root veg and soon we’ll all earn a good living from Jessie’s farm.’
The door was pushed open. ‘It’s only me, Mrs Jones.’ The girl from the village who cleaned for me came into the kitchen and eyed me with suspicion as she always did, especially when I forgot myself and spoke in German. She refused to use my married name, Frau Euler, and insisted calling me by my Welsh maiden name.
‘Morning, Glenys, how’s the goat?’ This was our one line of conversation: Glenys’s goat Smuttie. He was so wild I thought he should be called ‘Paddy Murphy’s Goat’, but the two loved each other like lovers.
‘Eatin’ my home up as usual, Mrs Jones.’ She tickled the baby’s cheek briefly and the baby grinned toothlessly. This courtesy over, Glenys rummaged under the sink for her cleaning things.
‘The bedrooms today, is it?’
‘That will be lovely, Glenys, thank you.’
‘I saw him today: Michael,’ I said to George, ‘they’re sending him back to Germany soon.’
‘That’s good,’ George said.
‘How can it be good?’
‘Well, he’ll be discharged and then he’ll come back to Wales. The Jerries have got nothing against Michael, mind, he served his country, so as far as they know he’s been a good German, crashed in “enemy” land, held in a prison camp till the end of the war. I wouldn’t mind betting he’ll get a medal.’
I brightened up. ‘You’re not as daft as you look.’
‘I’ve told you to stop saying sweet words to me, my wife will be getting jealous.’ George grinned as Violet came into the room with a tray of cocoa and some biscuits.
‘You two arguing again?’ She smiled lovingly at George.
I shook my head. ‘George is talking a lot of sense,’ I said, ‘he’s made me feel better now.’
Violet kissed George fondly on the brow. ‘You’re a good man, George, my man.’ She hugged him round the neck and he blushed like a schoolboy.
I got up quietly, picked up my son and went to help Glenys with the bed linen.