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But some of them did wonder where exactly young Emile Détange had gone. One or two guessed; their sons had also mysteriously left home, bidding a fond farewell, but refusing to say where
they were going or what they were going to do. Many had gone away to avoid being sent to Germany to work or even to fight on the Eastern front for the Germans. Many a father envied their
son’s bravery and many a mother wept with fear.

And Marthe was one of those mothers.

Edie lay alone in the Morrison shelter in her front room listening to the enemy bombers droning overhead. And then the bombing began. At first it was some distance away, but
then the planes came nearer and nearer until they sounded as though they were directly overhead. She heard the whine of a falling bomb and then there was a terrific crash, so close that she felt
the whole house shake. She screamed, sure that the building was going to fall on top of her.

‘Lil! Lil!’ she cried, wishing that she had gone into her neighbour’s Anderson or that Lil was here beside her. ‘Why didn’t I get her round here when it
started?’ she whimpered. More bombs fell, not so close now, but still they were falling on the town.

At last, after what seemed an age, the noise died away and eventually the All Clear sounded. Edie crawled out of the shelter and struggled to the back door. She flung it open and staggered to
the gate in the fence.

‘Lil! Lil, are you all right?’

‘I’m here, Edie. A bit shaken but—’ Before she could say any more, Lil found herself enveloped in a bear hug.

‘Oh thank God, you’re all right. Lil, in future we stay together. I’ll come into yours or you into mine. Even when Archie’s home. I’m not going through another
night like that again, not knowing what’s happened to you.’

‘I’m all right, duck, honest. Come on, let’s get inside and get the kettle on.’

‘I must have a look outside first, Lil. I reckon there was at least one bomb fell in our street. I hope Jessie’s all right.’

‘Come on, we’ll go together.’

They emerged from Lil’s front door to see a flurry of activity further down the long street.

‘It’s not near Jessie’s. It’s the other end.’

‘There she is, though, look. Handing out drinks to the rescuers from the mobile canteen. And there’s Norma alongside her.’ Edie laughed wryly. ‘Strange bedfellows this
war’s caused, Lil.’

‘Aye, well, they get along when they’re helping others, I’ll say that for them.’

‘Come on, Lil, we’d better go down and see if we can help.’

Though it was early morning and they hadn’t had any breakfast, the two women were fully dressed. ‘I’m not being caught in me nightie when there’s a raid,’ Edie had
declared, ‘in case I have to be dug out.’

But their help was not needed. ‘You go home, Edie love,’ Jessie said. ‘There’s plenty of us here and you look as if you’ve had a rough night of it
yourselves.’

So the two women sat in Lil’s living room, drinking tea and trying to calm their nerves.

‘It was bad enough, Edie,’ Lil said, ‘but I reckon those things they’re calling butterfly bombs which they dropped on us a month ago were awful weapons. They were
sneaky.’

‘Anti-personnel bombs, Archie said they’re called. They don’t go off on landing but wait until someone touches them.’

‘Evil, I call it. It’s as if they’re aiming them at kids, ’cos they’ll know youngsters can’t resist collecting bits of shrapnel and that.’

‘That’s why Archie won’t hear of Reggie coming home yet,’ Edie said dolefully. ‘He says he might get in with the kids running riot. We’ve always let our
youngsters play out in the street, but Harry’s been telling him that bomb sites are a favourite playground for the local kids now. Them that haven’t gone away, that is.’ There was
a wistful note in her voice as if she almost wished her Reggie was at home to run riot.

‘Sorry, Edie, but I agree with him,’ Lil said, bravely ignoring Edie’s baleful glare.

Edie sighed. ‘I know you’re both right, but . . .’ She bit her lip to stop herself repeating the never-ending lament: I just want them home.

‘Jessie and Harry will come to us this year,’ Edie declared at the beginning of November, the traditional time when she and Lil started to think about planning for
Christmas. ‘It was nice last year, I won’t deny it, and good of them to cater for all of us, but I don’t mind telling you, Lil, it wasn’t the same as being here.
Norma’s not said any more about us going to her, has she?’

Mentally, Edie crossed her fingers. Norma’s dismal house was the last place she wanted to spend Christmas.

And it seemed Lil felt the same. ‘No – thank goodness. We’re like two peas in a pod, you and me, Edie. We like things done our way.’

Edie had the grace to laugh along with her. ‘And we like to be in our own home, don’t we? But what about Norma? She’s welcome to come here, Lil.’

Lil pulled a face but said, ‘I’ll ask her. Will Shirley get home, d’you think?’

‘She doesn’t know yet, but she doesn’t think so. She says a lot of her friends have younger brothers and sisters at home who they want to see and because she hasn’t
– I very much doubt that Reggie will come, d’you? – she thought she ought to volunteer to stay there. She says they’ll have a merry time of it, anyway, but it’s not
like being with family.’

Lil was obliged to agree that it was unlikely. She chuckled. ‘No doubt she’ll get them all playing charades.’

‘I shouldn’t wonder. Anyway, Archie will be home, so there’ll be six of us. It’s not a bad number, but there’ll be no young ones to liven us up.’

‘Oh, your Jessie will do that, duck, don’t you worry. And you could ask Ursula.’

‘Mm.’ Edie was thoughtful. ‘I haven’t seen her lately. She doesn’t call round so much now Shirley’s not here.’

‘Maybe she’s made some other friends.’ Lil paused and then sighed. ‘I just wish little Tommy could be home for Christmas, but Irene is adamant they’re staying
put.’

‘One thing we know is that Christmas 1943 is going to be the toughest yet, Lil,’ Edie moaned.

‘It’s to be expected. I know the war’s only been going four years, but it’s the fifth Christmas and the shortages are really biting now. Do you think Mr Schofield will
bring us a bird or two?’

‘I do hope so, though we mustn’t expect it, Lil. But just in case he does, I’ve got the presents ready for him to take back to the family. I’ve knitted Reggie a scarf to
keep him warm when he’s out in the fields from an old fisherman’s woolly of Archie’s. There was plenty of wool in it for me to make a muffler for Tommy too and a little knitted
waistcoat.’

Lil chuckled. ‘I’m not surprised. Archie’s a big feller. I’ve not had a lot of time to make owt, but I’ve managed to pick up a few bits and pieces through the year
that I’ve put on one side. And I’ve got a calendar to send to Irene. She can mark off the days to them coming home. Let’s hope it’ll be this year, Edie.’

‘Amen to that, Lil.’

Joe Schofield arrived once again on Edie’s front doorstep on Christmas Eve bearing a goose and two rabbits.

‘Things aren’t easy, missis, not even in the countryside now. The longer this war’s going on, the harder it’s getting even for us. Any road up, we killed a pig a
fortnight ago and I’ve brought you some sausages and brawn. I’m just sorry there’s no turkey or chickens for you.’

Edie almost snatched the food out of his hands before she remembered her manners and invited the big man in. ‘It’s wonderful, Mr Schofield . . .’

‘Joe, missis, please.’

‘Joe, then. I don’t know how to thank you.’

Joe shrugged. ‘’Tis the least we can do. Besides, we’ve got your family. It’s a poor exchange, we know that, but we do love having them and we’re trying to do our
best so’s they’re not so homesick at Christmas. The missis is planning quite a party. She’s invited a few RAF lads from the nearby camp again – those that live too far away
to get home. So I reckon we’ll be making merry and it’ll be nice for the youngsters.’

‘That sounds lovely,’ Edie said, but she couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy that strangers would have her family with them at Christmas and she would not.

As they all sat round Edie’s table on Christmas Day, the conversation passed from one topic to another, but always seemed to come back to the one that was uppermost in
everyone’s mind; the war and its consequences for them all.

Shirley had managed to wangle a seventy-two-hour pass at the last minute and had arrived home very late on Christmas Eve. There hadn’t been much time for conversation the previous evening,
so Edie asked now, ‘Did you have a long way to travel?’

‘Now, Mam, you know I can’t tell you things like that.’

‘Oh, surely,’ Ursula, sitting beside her, said, ‘you can tell your own family?’

Shirley laughed. ‘But you might put it in the paper. You might decide to write a feature on how a local girl has joined the ATS and what she’s doing. And then you’d get me
arrested.’

Ursula turned a bright pink as she said in a hurt tone, ‘I would never do that. I would never do anything that could harm you or your family. You are my friend.’

‘I was only teasing, Ursula. Don’t take on so. But seriously, we do have to be very careful, so I find it’s best to say nothing and then I know I haven’t let the cat out
of the bag.’

Ursula frowned. ‘Cat? What is this cat?’

‘It’s just a saying, duck,’ Edie said. ‘It means to let out a secret.’

‘Oh. I see. Sometimes, I do not understand your quaint sayings.’

‘I’d like to make a toast,’ Harry said, trying to alleviate the awkward moment. ‘Raise your glasses, ladies and gentlemen, because I believe 1944 is the year when
something momentous is going to happen that will bring an end to the war. Oh, I’m not saying it’ll happen just like that –’ he snapped his fingers – ‘but, to
follow on from Mr Churchill’s words after the victory at El Alamein, when he said it was perhaps the end of the beginning, well, this year, I believe, it really could be the beginning of the
end.’

‘I’ll drink to that, Harry,’ Archie said. ‘We all will.’ Eagerly, they raised their glasses and drank to Harry’s hopes.

As he put down his glass, Archie glanced across the table at Ursula. The girl had not drunk the toast with the rest of them, had not even raised her glass to her lips. Instead, she sat with her
eyes downcast, twisting the wine glass round and round in her fingers, just watching the swirling red liquid.

When Emile visited the farm in the middle of the night four days into the New Year, he had grave news. He came on the motorcycle, which he left some distance away from the
farm, but he was still dressed in a German uniform. ‘I rode straight through a road block on the way here, shouting at them to open it up quickly because I was on urgent business for the
Führer.’ He laughed. ‘That name is like an “open sesame” even here in the middle of France.’ Then his expression sobered. ‘But I’ve been incredibly
lucky not to have been stopped before now, especially as I’ve come to tell you that we think one of our group – Julien – has been arrested.’

They were all sitting in the kitchen in their night-clothes, apart from Emile, of course. Marthe roused the fire and made a hot drink.

Raoul raised his eyebrows. ‘Julien Lafarge? The son of the baker in the town?’

Grimly, Emile nodded. ‘He went home for the New Year. We warned him not to go, but he feels the cold more than the rest of us. He wanted just a few nights in the warmth of his own bed and
to see his parents, of course.’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘And now . . .’

‘Do you know for certain?’

‘We’re almost sure. Bruce heard the commotion in the middle of the night of New Year’s Day. They broke the shop window and forced their way upstairs to the living
quarters.’

‘What about Bruce?’ Beth gasped. ‘Is he safe?’

‘For the moment. Thankfully, they were only concerned with Julien and, once they found him, didn’t think to search the whole house. They didn’t even arrest Henri and his
wife.’

‘Why ever not?’

Emile smiled wryly. ‘Henri supplies them with bread and cakes. The Germans aren’t fools. Besides, they’d got the man they wanted.’

‘Is Bruce still there? Above the shop?’

‘Yes, but he’s getting ready to leave. I can’t tell you where he’s going because I don’t know. Perhaps you could find out, Leonie? We shall have to be even more
careful about having too many contacts. I used to meet with Bruce now and again, but I daren’t any more. You’ll have to act as courier for us and you must only have Bruce and me as your
contacts.’

Beth nodded, twisting her hair around her finger. She felt so sorry for the brave young man, Julien, and for his family, but she was also very anxious for Rob. If he were arrested . . .

‘I’ll see what I can find out,’ she promised.

‘Be careful,’ Emile whispered, as he kissed her cheek in farewell.

The following morning, as Beth cycled through the village, she could feel a change in the atmosphere. The bad news had travelled fast. There were only one or two people out.
Most, it seemed, were clinging to what they thought was the safety of their homes. But the enemy was no respecter of property. They would gain entry by force if they wished. And those who had
ventured out, hurried along with their heads bowed as if trying not to attract attention to themselves. Someone from their nearest town had been betrayed, they were sure of it. But by whom, no one
knew, and now they all felt vulnerable. Who would be the next to be questioned?

Beth rode along with her head held high and hummed a little tune. She was a sixteen-year-old girl now, who worked on a farm for her uncle and knew nothing about any resistance group. Two road
blocks barred her way to the town this morning and there was an unmistakable excitement amongst the guards. They were laughing and joking with each other and, though Beth could not understand very
much of what they were saying, she caught the words ‘Maquis’ and ‘arrested’ and knew that they were jubilant about Julien’s capture.

Beth shuddered for the poor young man.

Henri Lafarge was still behind his shop counter, serving his customers. His face was set in a bland expression, but Beth could see the anguish deep in his eyes. He was terrified for his son.
When the shop emptied, Henri gestured upstairs.