My Friend the Enemy (23 page)

OVER

K
im 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.

KIM

K
im and I didn't get into trouble for what we'd done. I think people were too concerned for Kim's wellbeing, and felt too sorry for me and Mam. Everybody knew about the telegram.

In the village, a few days after Erik was taken away from us, I saw the lieutenant – the one who promised me Erik wouldn't be shot – and I asked him what had happened to my friend. All he said was that he was in safe hands. They'd taken him to a camp where he would stay until the end of the war. I wanted to believe him, I really did, but he refused to tell me where the camp was and I couldn't help thinking they'd done something to him. All the talk I'd heard had been about what they were going to
do when they caught the German soldier, so it was no wonder I thought the worst.

After that day, Kim had to stay in bed for almost a week and I wasn't allowed to visit her even once. I went to her aunt's house every day until she called the police and they sent a bobby round to Hawthorn Lodge to warn me off. Mam gave him a cup of tea and a biscuit and listened to what he had to say, then she went round to Kim's aunt and told her she was a silly woman and that if she had any care for her niece she would let me see her. But even that didn't work.

When Kim was better, though, she used to sneak out and come to see me. Mam would always make a fuss of her, telling her what a good friend she was, and I think she even grew to love Kim as much as I did. She made Mam smile and, in her own way, she helped us both to deal with the news brought by the telegram.

Kim and I spent many afternoons in the woods that summer, repairing the damage Ridley and his friends had done to the pens. They were never used again as far as I know, but I'm glad we fixed them all up just as if they were new. It would have made Dad proud and I wished he'd had the chance to meet Kim. I'm sure he would have loved her too.

Kim remained my best friend for the next few years. When her aunt found out about our continuing friendship, she threatened to send her back to Newcastle, but she didn't ever carry out that threat. Eventually she settled to the idea of us being friends, and by the last years of the war, she even allowed me to set foot in her home once or twice.

We were both sixteen years old when Kim moved back to Newcastle, and I remember it as clearly as I remember the day she fell into the burn and almost died. She had changed a lot by then. She was still tough, and she was still an adventuress, but she was no longer afraid to put on a dress from time to time – something that pleased her aunt no end.

She was wearing a dress the day she left. It was blue, and light because it was late summer and the day was warm. Her hair was longer then, almost to her shoulders, but it was still so black it was almost blue, and the sun shone on it so that when I hugged her, she felt warm and I pressed my cheek against hers and wished I never had to let go.

When she waved from the window of the bus, I stood at the roadside and wondered what I was going to do without her.

Kim had once told me that she was going to be a nurse, like her mother, and knowing she was in Newcastle was always a small comfort to me, but when I heard the news that Kim had gone to Oxford to become a doctor, I knew she was lost to me for ever as life went on in our little village.

Mr Bennett offered to marry Mam, and she turned him down a number of times, before finally agreeing. They were married after the war and Mr Bennett made for a thoughtful husband who was always good to Mam. He never replaced Dad, and I don't think he ever tried to, but I think Dad would have been pleased to know that Mam had someone to look after her.

I kept on at school, finding a love for stories and writing, which is what I do now. I write. Perhaps it was all those adventures.

I sold my first story to a magazine when I was eighteen and after my first book was published, there were others; stories that went on to be popular enough that people in our village still say, ‘He used to live here, you know – up at Hawthorn Lodge.'

It was those stories that brought Kim back to me.

I never enjoy parties very much, there are always too many people and too much noise, but I had promised some friends I would go along. They knew someone who had read my books and wanted to meet me. So it was that I found myself surrounded by people I didn't know, with a glass of champagne in my hand, wishing I were somewhere else.

But when she cleared her throat and spoke my name, it was as if there was no one else in the room. Everything in the world had stopped except for us.

‘Peter,' she said.

‘Kim.'

When I turned around to meet her, she looked exactly as I'd imagined she would. And when she smiled, I knew I'd never lose her again.