The Farmer's Daughter (32 page)

He found the house easily enough. It was hardly damaged at all. A Russian flag hung from a post on the corner of the building. It made him even more cautious. He waited and watched for several minutes, but no one came or went. Guessing there would be a servant preparing breakfast, he walked round the block to the back gate where he knew there was an entrance to the garden. Crossing that stealthily, he knocked on the kitchen door. It was something he had done in his youth when he had been courting Heidi.

The door opened and he found himself looking into a familiar face. ‘
Frau
Langer, do you remember me?'

‘Karl Muller, you have come home.' The housekeeper had not changed and, unlike so many of her compatriots, had not lost her plumpness. Her hair was grey where it had once been brown, but her smile was just as wide.

‘I need to speak to
Herr
Beauman urgently. Will he see me?'

‘It is not about Heidi, is it, because …'

‘No, it is not about Heidi. I know what happened to her. I came to visit my parents but they advised me to go back west. They said
Herr
Beauman might help me do so. I have no papers except my discharge.'

‘Ah, I see.' She hesitated a moment and he wondered if she was going to send him away. ‘You had better come in.'

He stepped into the kitchen. She had obviously been preparing breakfast for several people.

‘Sit down there,' she said, indicating a chair in the corner. ‘If anyone comes, go into the pantry and, for God's sake, make no noise. There are Russian soldiers billeted here. Thank goodness they are officers who have a little idea how to behave. When I take
Herr
Beauman's breakfast to him, I will tell him you are here.' She busied herself laying out a tray and left the room with it.

He waited. He could hear people moving about in the room above him and sat very still, hardly daring to breathe. When he heard footsteps approaching he dived into the pantry, realising as he shut the door that there was no other way out. To make matters worse, he had left his kitbag in the kitchen.

‘You can come out,' the housekeeper said.

Tentatively, he opened the door and peered out. She was accompanied by
Herr
Beauman.

‘Come on out, boy, and let me see you,'
Herr
Beauman said.

Karl stepped out, came to attention and bowed.
‘Guten Tag, Herr
Beauman. Do you remember me?'

The older man surveyed him from head-to-toe before speaking. ‘Of course I remember you, cheeky young devil you were.'

‘I was sorry to hear about Heidi.'

‘Yes, but we will not speak of her. You want papers to enable you to leave the Russian zone?'

‘Yes,
mein Herr.
Can you help? My parents …'

‘How are your parents?'

‘They are well,
Herr
Beauman, but they are fearful and urged me to leave.'

‘How did you arrive?'

Karl explained his journey. ‘I could perhaps go back on the barge, but I need to get to the other side of Berlin to pick it up.'

‘You will need an interzone travel pass. Give me a little time, I might be able to provide one. In the meantime, I suggest you stay in the garden house. You know where that is, I am sure, you did enough hiding in it as a youth …'

‘I didn't think you knew.'

‘Oh, I knew, but it amused me to see the two of you together. Now of course …' His voice cracked. ‘I am glad to see you well.' He turned on his heel and left the room.

‘You must go before anyone sees you in here,'
Frau
Langer said, handing him a thick wedge of bread and butter, covered in honey. ‘Take this to the garden house and wait.'

He remembered to pick up his kitbag before doing as he was told. The door of the summer house creaked as he opened it. There was nothing inside but dust and cobwebs. The window was so dirty he couldn't see out of it, but decided against cleaning it and advertising his presence. He sat in the corner behind the door and ate the bread. It was obvious that the presence of the occupying officers meant rations were not short in the house. He was not at all sure that
Herr
Beauman could be trusted and it put him on tenterhooks, ready to bolt.

It seemed like hours before
Frau
Langer came to him. ‘Here,' she said, handing him a sheet of paper. ‘With luck this will get you over the border into the west.'

‘Thank you.' It was an interzone travel permit allowing him to visit relatives in Osnabrück. He was required to return within fourteen days. He smiled at that. ‘Is this genuine?'

‘The blank form is not a forgery, if that is what you mean, but
Herr
Beauman is taking a risk filling it out for you. He works for the Russians and is required to have everything countersigned and stamped.'

‘This is signed and stamped.'

‘Yes. Do not ask how. It is not the first time.' She handed him a paper bag. ‘This will fill your belly on the way. Do you have money for your train fare?'

‘A little.'

‘Good.
Herr
Beauman said you should keep to the east–west corridor.'

‘I am very grateful.'

‘Good luck.'

Thanking his guardian angel for his luck so far, he left the way he had come and made his way to the railway station in Eberswalde. It was quiet, there were few people about and he felt conspicuous. There was nothing for it but assume the confidence he did not feel. The man at the ticket office hardly looked at him as he issued the ticket.

It was a different matter when he boarded the train. The guard examined everything in minute detail. Karl held his breath, hoping the man would not question the signature, which he doubted was genuine.

‘Change in Berlin,' he said, handing the documents back.

‘Thank you. Can you tell me the time of the connection?'

‘Six-fifteen, if we get you there in time.' He passed on to the next traveller and Karl allowed himself to relax.

He had a little time to wait in Berlin for his connection and spent some of the time in a café drinking ersatz coffee, eating a frugal meal and counting his change. He had just enough to get him to Magdeburg with a little left over to pay Johannes if he could find him again.

He would have to stay a little while in Osnabrück to earn enough to take him back to England. His return ticket was already out of date. He wondered what was happening in Little Bushey.
What was Jean doing? How was she managing? Perhaps her brother was helping her more now he must be getting used to his new leg. Was she waiting for him or had she succumbed to Mr Howson's pleas? It would please her parents, he knew.

The potato yield had not been good, much of the crop had rotted in ground and the wheat, which had been sown very late because of the floods, was so poor it was hardly worth harvesting; it was certainly not good enough for bread. Gordon came back from the miller's in a bad mood.

‘I don't know why I bother,' he said.

‘We've had bad harvests before and weathered them,' Jean said. They were all still living at the farmhouse. Jean had postponed looking for somewhere else until Karl came back, but he had been gone so long, she didn't think that was likely now. Almost all the men had left the camp, either gone home or, allowed to stay, had dispersed into the countryside to find civilian jobs. It would soon be shut, perhaps returned to agriculture or some commercial undertaking. She was as miserable as Gordon, but for a different reason.

‘It's all right for you,' Gordon told her. ‘You haven't got a wife and child and another on the way to clothe and feed.'

‘No, but I do what I can to help.'

‘I know you do, so does Ma, but I'll have to think of something to make some money.'

‘A proper job,' Rosemary put in. ‘Nine to five. I'm fed up with the stink of the farm; you can't get rid of it whatever you do.'

‘You knew that when you married me,' he snapped.

‘I hadn't lived with it day in, day out, then. I don't want this for my children, working all the hours God sends and for what? No time off. I can't remember the last time we went to the pictures together or went to a dance, and when you come in of an evening
you are so tired you fall asleep in your chair. As for shopping, what good is that when we've no money? You should remember you are disabled and shouldn't be doing it. The doctor said to give your new leg time. But have you? No, you haven't. You'll kill yourself, that's what you'll do.' Her anger gave way to tears.

Gordon went to put his arms about her. ‘You are tired, love. Come and lie down. You mustn't get worked up, it's not good for the baby and it upsets Stan. Mum and Jean will see to him.' He led her from the room.

‘What brought that on?' Doris asked Jean, glancing down at Stan who had fallen asleep face down on the floor.

‘I think it's been building up for a while, Mum.' Gordon had confided to her that Rosie had threatened to take Stanley and move back in with her mother if he didn't give up the farm, and he was worried sick about it. She couldn't tell her mother that.

Doris sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose it has, but what will we do if he does decide to find a job? What about the farm?'

‘I don't know, Mum, I really don't. I suppose you and I could keep it going with a little help. We did it when Pa had his stroke, didn't we? We could keep Joe Bunford on.'

‘Perhaps it won't come to that. It's only a tantrum on Rosie's part, after all.'

‘Yes, Mum, that's all it is.'

‘You had better go and get the milking done. I don't think Gordon's going to help you today.'

After the tense atmosphere in the house it was peaceful in the cowshed with only the sound of the cows munching their hay and swishing their tails. ‘Oh, Karl, where are you?' she murmured. ‘Why haven't you come back to me? I could endure it all if only you were here.'

Karl was working on a building site in Osnabrückand living in the cellar with his sister, aunt and cousin. Elise was talking of them finding a place of their own. ‘We could manage quite comfortably with both our wages,' she said. They were walking to work a week after he arrived back. ‘Maria ought to get a job instead of relying on us. There are plenty going, even if they don't pay much.'

‘I'm not stopping,' he said. He had left the train at Magdeburg and made his way on foot to the Buchhorst–Rühen crossing where, not risking the road and the pass Herr Beauman had given him, he had swum across in the dark, kicking out on his back with his kitbag on his chest. A border guard had spotted him climbing out further along and taken a pot shot at him. He had run into the trees, knowing he would not be followed, not from the Russian side, and lay there exhausted until daylight.

With the dawn came optimism. He was once again in the Bizone and his official papers would keep him out of trouble. He had changed his clothes and made for the towpath. There was no sign of Johannes but that was hardly surprising; he had no idea of the Dutchman's schedule. He had walked a few miles when he was overtaken by a barge. He ran after it and begged a lift. It had taken the last of his money and his watch.

‘Not stopping?' Elise repeated. ‘Where are you going then?'

‘Back to England.'

‘What on earth for? Your home is here.'

‘No, it is not. My home is with the girl I love and she lives in England.'

‘Eine Engländerin!
Karl, how could you?'

‘Easy. Jean is very easy to love.
Mutti
and
Vati
told me to go back to her. They gave me their blessing, so as soon as I've earned enough, I am leaving here. One day, perhaps, when I'm old and grey, I'll come back. Or you can visit us.'

‘You must be mad. No wonder we lost the war when people like you decide to throw in your lot with the enemy.'

‘Lisa, we lost the war because we did not deserve to win. We listened to that fanatic, Adolf Hitler, and believed his evil doctrine.'

‘How can you say that? He made Germany great again.'

He gave a bark of a laugh. ‘Are we great, Lisa? Are these ruins great? Do we have good jobs, good wages? Do we live in comfort?'

‘We will again.'

‘I hope so, I really do, but that doesn't alter my decision to go back to England. Wherever Jean is, there I must be.'

‘You have been gone two months, do you think she will still be waiting for you?'

‘I hope so,' he said. ‘I really do hope so.'

‘Liebling.'
It was spoken softly.

Jean, who was milking Gertrude, whirled round and only just managed to save the pail of milk from tipping over. ‘Karl!' It was almost a scream. ‘You're back.'

He laughed, opening his arms and she ran into them. ‘Yes, I am back.'

‘I didn't think … Oh, Karl, it is so good to see you. I've missed you so.'

‘And I you.' There was everything in their kisses: delight, hunger, longing, questions and answers. But they had to draw breath.

She leant back to scan his face. He was sporting an untidy beard, his hair was inches long and curling on his shoulders and he looked as though he had slept in his clothes. ‘Was it very bad?'

‘Bad enough.'

‘Your parents?'

‘They are well and still managing the farm, though much reduced.'

‘Did you want to stay?'

‘I offered. I had to. They would not hear of it. They were convinced I would be arrested.'

‘Wait here while I wash and change, then we'll go to Gran's and you can tell me all about it.'

‘I have to report to Colonel Williamson.'

‘Why? You are not still a prisoner, are you?'

‘No, I am a free man, but I need somewhere to stay.'

‘We'll talk about that later.'

She rushed into the house, told her mother the news, in too much of a hurry to explain, splashed some water on her face, changed into a skirt and jumper, and returned to Karl in record time. Gordon and Joe were in the yard as they left hand in hand. ‘Gordon, Karl is back!' she called out to him.

Her brother came over to stand in front of them. ‘How are you, Muller?'

‘I am well, thank you.'

‘Karl is a free man now,' Jean said. ‘We are going to Gran's to talk about the future.'

Gordon looked Karl up and down. ‘I'm afraid I've no work for you.'

‘I will find something.'

Elizabeth bustled about in the kitchen making an impromptu meal, leaving Jean and Karl to sit side by side on the sofa in her little sitting room to talk.

‘Now, tell me all about it,' she commanded him.

He obliged. ‘I hated leaving them,' he said of his parents, after he had recounted his lengthy journey to Hartsveld. ‘But I knew it was what they wanted and it was for the best, for them as well as me. It meant I could come back to you and I wanted that
more than anything. But coming back to the west was even more hazardous than going east. I had to sell my watch and bribe people to help me. I went back to Osnabrück to say goodbye to my sister. She wanted me to stay there, but I said no.'

‘Oh, I am so glad you did. Now you are here, you are going to stay, aren't you?'

‘Do you still want me?'

‘What a question. Of course I do. We will be married, just as you said we would.'

‘But I have no job, nowhere to live except the camp …'

‘That's being closed down as soon as the last prisoners have left. Besides, you can't live there. We must be together.'

‘Why did you bring me here, instead of the farm?'

‘The place is not what it was since Pa died, Karl.'

‘Your father died? Oh,
Liebling
, I am so sorry.'

‘He died in his sleep. I think he was just tired of struggling. The dreadful winter and hardly any harvest to speak of was more than he could bear.' She fought back tears. ‘It was all so sudden. No one seems able to cope any more. Gordon is finding the farm a struggle and has more than once said he would give it up and find himself a job. He can't, of course, with all of us living there and depending on it.'

‘And your mother?'

‘It's difficult to tell. On the surface she seems OK, getting on with things as she usually does, but inside … I don't know. Mum would be lost without the home she shared with Pa for so long. Rosie doesn't pull her weight. Oh dear, I should not have said that.'

‘I understand. I wish I had been here to help you.'

‘You are here now and that's all that matters.'

Elizabeth called them from the kitchen to come and have
their dinner and they rose to obey. Over the meal, Jean and Karl continued to talk about what had happened while they had been apart and what they hoped to do in the future. ‘My first task must be to find a job and somewhere to live after the camp closes,' Karl told Elizabeth.

‘You can come and live here, if you like,' she said. ‘I've got a spare room.'

Jean turned to her with eyes alight. ‘Gran, you are an angel.'

‘It will not be easy for you, Mrs Sanderson,' Karl said. ‘I am still the hated Jerry.'

‘Don't be silly. The war has been over for two years now, it's time to put it behind us. Besides, who is going to trouble an old lady in her dotage.'

‘Oh, Gran,' Jean said, laughing. ‘You are a long way from your dotage.'

Jean was determined they would have a proper wedding in church. ‘I'm not creeping into a registry office to be married,' she told the family when they gathered to discuss the arrangements. ‘I am not ashamed of Karl, nor afraid of black looks. We can survive those. I'm going to have a white wedding and bridesmaids if I can find anyone willing. You will give me away, won't you, Gordon?'

He looked startled to be asked. ‘My pleasure,' he said, making them laugh.

‘I'll be a bridesmaid, if you like,' Rosemary said, then giggled. ‘I suppose I should say matron of honour. And you can borrow my wedding dress.'

‘Why, thank you, Rosie. I'll take you up on that.'

‘Where will you live?' Doris asked.

‘With me for the time being,' Elizabeth said. ‘Until they find a home of their own and Karl settles into a job.'

‘I've got a better idea,' Gordon said suddenly. ‘You can live here, Jean. Rosie and I will move out and you can take over the tenancy. But only if Mum stays as long as she wants to.'

Jean turned to him in astonishment. ‘Are you mad?'

‘No. I can't make a proper go of it, not the way I'd like, and Rosie isn't happy with the situation …'

‘I didn't think you meant it when you said you were thinking of giving up,' his mother said.

‘I did, but I couldn't see how it could be done until Karl came back and it suddenly came to me. He loves this farm and he obviously loves Jean. Who better to make it work and leave me free to do what I want?'

Jean smiled. ‘So he's no longer the hated Jerry?'

‘No. Any man who can go through what he went through for you has earned his place in this family.'

‘You mean that?'

‘Yes. Life's too short to hold grudges. Besides, I did meet some decent Germans while I was a prisoner …' He stopped, thinking about that long march and how some of the guards had helped by carrying stretchers and turning a blind eye to Stan's disappearances.

Jean jumped up to hug him. ‘Gordon, you are a wonder. But do you think Sir Edward will agree?'

‘He already has. I asked him yesterday.'

‘I hope you won't regret it.'

‘I won't, I promise you.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘Alex and Jeremy have set up a business ferrying rich businessmen and celebrities about the country by air. When I told them I was thinking of giving up farming they asked me to join them. We'll be moving to Cambridge.'

‘You kept very quiet about this,' Doris said.

‘No point in saying anything when it wasn't going to happen, was there?'

‘I'm going to find Karl to tell him,' Jean said. ‘He will be pleased.'

She ran from the room. Fancy her brother coming up with a solution to the problem that had been worrying them ever since Karl came back. It was ideal. They both loved the farm and her mother would have a home as long as she wanted it. It would be hard work, she knew, but they were not afraid of that.

Karl's reaction was more muted when she found him in the stable, stroking Misty's nose, knowing what was going on in the house and wishing he could be there to support Jean. He had thought there might be arguments. He did not understand this latest development. ‘Why?' he queried. ‘Why has he decided he doesn't like farming? He hasn't been coerced, has he?'

‘If anyone had done any coercing it is Rosie, but I don't think even she could influence him if he didn't want it. He has already asked Sir Edward if we can take over the tenancy and he has agreed. Isn't that wonderful?'

‘How much rent does he want?'

‘I don't know, I didn't ask, but whatever it is, we'll manage. Karl, my love, we can stay in the place where we've been happy, in the village where everyone knows us, and though they might disapprove to begin with, they will get over it. Say you are pleased.'

‘
Natürlich
I am pleased.'

‘Let's go to the pub to celebrate.'

‘Is that a good idea?'

‘It is a very good idea. We'll test the water.'

He laughed. ‘I do not think I shall ever learn all these funny sayings you have.'

‘But you do understand?'

‘Oh, I understand. We will test the water.'

There were several people in the Plough and Harrow. Bill was there with Brenda. He looked up as they came in and frowned. Jean ignored that and went over to him, with a bright smile. ‘Hallo, Bill. You know Karl, don't you?'

‘I do.'

‘We are going to be married.'

‘Congratulations!' Brenda cried. ‘I hope you will both be very happy.'

‘This is Brenda, Bill's wife,' Jean told Karl.

He bowed. ‘How do you do, Mrs Howson?'

‘Oh, Brenda, please.'

Jean smiled. At least Brenda was friendly. ‘Bill, nothing to say?'

‘Congratulations.' He stood up. ‘A drink to celebrate? Karl, what will it be?'

‘Beer, please.'

The ice was broken. While some muttered their disapproval, others came to congratulate them. Little Bushey had become used to the Germans in their midst and many had employed them and accepted them. It did not mean she and Karl were in for an easy time, but they would weather it. As Karl had told her, the future was theirs.