Chapter 10

Helen was grateful to Mrs Hamel for offering to look after Bobby again for the day. She was lucky to have such caring neighbours, and for the first time she felt that she was becoming accepted as one of their own. She thought back to Peggy's idea. It was a brilliant one and gave her back a tiny speck of power, knowing she was doing something, however small, to help defy these overconfident men.

The tips of her fingers touched the small piece of paper in her pocket. On it were a few words Peggy had slipped to her that morning when they met outside their front doors. She had spent her thirty-minute walk to work learning the words – including ‘prisoner', ‘spy', ‘informer' and ‘arrest' – by heart as Peggy had requested. Now she was eager to burn the paper as soon as she had the opportunity. Helen hadn't felt this excited for a long time and looked forward to doing something useful.

Arriving at the entrance to the house, Helen waited for the barrier to be raised. The officer waved her through. She thought of the Hauptmann with the deep scar on his cheek and how uncomfortable he had made her. She was glad she hadn't seen him recently. Maybe he had been billeted elsewhere, she thought hopefully.

Relieved to reach the kitchen without being stopped, Helen hung up her coat and, taking the slip of paper from her pocket, put on her apron.

‘You're looking chirpy this morning,' Cook said, indicating a pan of eggs in water Helen needed to keep an eye on. ‘Your aunt back home now, then?'

‘Later today, hopefully. I don't think she'll be able to look after Bobby for a while, though.' Helen smiled; her aunt might have her own ideas about that. ‘But my neighbour has offered to babysit again tomorrow.'

‘I'm glad you have good neighbours,' Cook said pointedly. ‘We all need them, especially now.

‘We do.' Helen watched the older woman go to the meat safe, open it and look inside. Whilst Cook's attention was distracted, Helen moved the pan and dropped the piece of paper into the flames underneath.

‘Those should be ready now,' Cook said, making Helen jump. She was going to need to calm her nerves if she was to be any use to Peggy. ‘Peel them, then they can go into a serving bowl. Put a lid on and take them through to the dining room with those cold cuts of meat on that tray. I've no idea why they requested boiled eggs today, but who am I to question these people?' She took a large pan from a hook to her right. ‘One of the girls has already taken through the bread, butter and coffee, so you'd better hurry along.'

Helen changed her apron to a pinny and put on a lace cap, irritated to have to serve in the dining room.

‘Ahh, here is the little mother,' one of them said as she entered, carrying the heavy tray over to the oak sideboard. She didn't recognise his voice and supposed one of the others must have been talking about her. Probably that Hauptmann, she thought, suppressing a shiver.

The other waitress, Mabel, gave her a sympathetic look before taking a tray of empty bowls from the room. Why did she leave her alone? Helen wondered, noticing there were three soldiers sitting at the dining-room table.

Mrs Edwards entered the room as Helen was putting the food onto plates ready to serve. ‘Hauptmann Schneider, there is a telephone call for you.'

The man stood and left the room with Mrs Edwards.

Helen served the others, anxious to return to the kitchen as quickly as possible. Leutnant Müller usually said hello. He seemed shy and was pleasant-looking in a fresh-faced way, with his pink cheeks, fair hair and blue eyes, but he had a way of staring at her that was a little unnerving.

‘How is your little boy today?' an officer she had seen a few times asked. ‘He is here?'

They must have been talking about her, she realised, the thought making her feel unsettled. She would much rather they left her alone to do her job rather than insist on speaking to her. Surely they knew how uncomfortable it made her having to converse with them? Maybe it hadn't occurred to them, or could it simply be that her feelings were irrelevant to them?

‘No, he's not here today. He is well, though.' She fetched the coffee pot and held it up. ‘Would you like more coffee?'

Hauptmann Schneider returned to the room and raised his cup without speaking, waiting as she poured the dark, steaming liquid into his cup. Leutnant Müller, unlike his superior officer, didn't often look her in the eye, or make her feel anxious. There was something cruel in the Hauptmann's leer that made her skin crawl. His small, dark eyes had no softness in them. She didn't think she was imagining things, but supposed it could be something to do with her natural suspicion of men wearing the Wehrmacht uniform.

She left them to eat, relieved to return to the kitchen. She realised she hadn't picked up any information for Peggy, and was disappointed to have let her down. It was early days, though, she reminded herself, assuming there would be plenty more opportunities for her to overhear something useful.

‘You really don't like serving them, do you?' Cook asked, grinning at her. ‘Not that I blame you. I'd much rather be shut away in here.'

Helen puffed out her cheeks. ‘I'll probably learn not to mind so much.'

‘Good girl.' Cook indicated the kettle. ‘That's about to boil. As soon as it does, you, Dulcie and I can take a moment to eat a bite of something before it's time to clear their dirty plates.'

Helen walked over to the kettle and removed it from the heat when it started whistling. She spooned tea leaves into a pot and added the water. There was no time to heat the pot first, not if they were only having a quick break.

‘Butter us a slice of bread each,' Cook said, shooting an impatient look at Dulcie. ‘I'll cut us a small slice of this ham I've kept back to eat with it. We'll need to be quick so that none of them catch us eating their food. There'll be hell to pay if they do.'

Helen enjoyed watching her boss misbehaving; it cheered her up. She took the pot, cups and saucers and a small jug of creamy Jersey milk over to the table and sat with her two workmates.

Taking a bite of her bread and ham, Helen closed her eyes, relishing the delicious sweet taste. ‘This is heavenly,' she said, trying to recall the last time she had eaten anything so perfect, especially now that rationing was becoming stricter a year into the occupation.

‘This is such a treat,' she whispered. ‘Thank you.'

Cook tapped the side of her nose. ‘I'm sure we all know to keep this to ourselves, don't we, Dulcie?' She raised her eyebrows and stared at the girl who, Helen realised, had been enjoying her unexpected breakfast too much to listen to what was being said.

‘Pardon?'

‘We're to keep this a secret between the three of us,' Helen repeated.

Dulcie looked from Helen to Cook, an indignant expression on her face. ‘I won't tell no one, you can be sure of that. Cross my heart and hope to die.'

Cook laughed. ‘There's no need to go that far.'

Helen ate the last mouthful, relishing every morsel.

Mabel entered the kitchen and called out from the doorway, ‘They've finished eating.'

Helen stood and straightened her apron. ‘I'm coming.' She accompanied Mabel to the dining room and was relieved to see that Leutnant Müller was the only one still there. After Mabel had left the room, Helen picked up the tray of crockery she had just finished loading and lifted it ready to carry it out of the room, but before she reached the door, the leutnant stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.

Helen's breath caught in her throat and she almost dropped the tray. Had he noticed her listening to them talking earlier?

‘Please, let me pass. I don't want to get into trouble.'

He raised both hands in the air. ‘I do not wish to frighten you.'

‘You're not,' Helen lied, sticking out her chin and trying her best to sound brave.

He reached into his pocket. Helen stepped back, nervous about what he was about to do, and was stunned when he pulled out one of the boiled eggs she had brought to the dining room earlier. ‘I kept this for you.'

Unsure what to say, she shook her head. ‘I can't take anything from you, you must know that.'

He looked down at his feet, then back at her. ‘I only wish to help you.'

She still wasn't certain where this was going. ‘I should be taking these things to be washed.'

‘Take the egg.' His cheeks reddened. ‘It is only one egg.' He held it out and Helen stared at it. She would love to take it. What a treat it would be for her aunt later. Eggs were so scarce these days, especially for those like her and Aunt Sylvia who lived near town and had nowhere to keep poultry.

‘For your little boy,' the leutnant added. ‘He would like it, no?'

Seeing her opportunity, she decided not to tell him that eggs made Bobby unwell but, after hesitating, nodded. ‘Um, thank you. Will you hold the tray for a moment?' she said, not liking the idea of asking him to put the egg in her skirt pocket.

He did as she asked and as soon as it was hidden in her pocket, Helen retrieved the tray. ‘I must go now,' she said quietly, wishing she didn't feel as if she had done something terribly wrong.

As she walked home that evening, Helen played the incident over and over in her mind. Had she done the right thing accepting the egg? Was it a gift? Surely not. She gasped, causing a woman walking towards her to look at her oddly. Not wanting to attract unwarranted attention, Helen winced and reached down to rub her ankle, pretending to have twisted it.

‘You hurt, dear?'

‘I'm fine, thank you.' Relieved when the woman walked on, Helen fell to wondering again. By accepting the egg had she collaborated with the Germans? Had she? She felt sick at the idea and forced the thought from her mind. It was too late to worry about it now. Anyway, was taking something that small for someone dear to her such a terrible thing? Helen decided it wasn't and determined to focus on her aunt's reaction to having something tasty and nourishing to eat.

As she neared the terrace, Helen noticed Mrs Hamel waving off the doctor. Helen broke into a run. Had he dropped her aunt home, or was he there delivering bad news?

‘Mrs Hamel,' she shouted to get her attention before she went into her home. ‘Mrs Hamel!'

Ida stopped on her doorstep and waved for Helen to slow down. ‘Nothing to panic about, my dear,' she soothed. ‘The doctor brought Sylvia home a short while ago and I've just settled her in your living room with the little un and a cup of tea.'

Relief flooded through Helen. ‘Thank you. That's such a relief.'

‘Bobby's sleeping so shouldn't bother either of you for a bit,' she said. Then, folding her arms across her chest, she cocked her head towards the front door and lowered her voice. ‘She's still weak but doing well, so the doctor says. We have the same doctor, Sylvia and me. I've known him since he was in nappies, so he knows he can trust me, and that Sylvia and I go a long way back.'

Desperate to see for herself how her aunt was, Helen smiled. ‘It's very kind of you and thanks for looking after Bobby for me again today. I'd better see if there's anything my aunt needs.'

‘You do that, love. I can have Bobby again tomorrow, so there's no need for you to fret about that.'

Helen doubted her aunt would be happy with the arrangement but she couldn't leave him with her for an entire day, not yet anyway.

‘I'm very grateful for your help.'

Ida waved her comment away. ‘No need. He's a little love and I enjoy spending time with him.'

‘Well, it makes all the difference to me. You must let me know if there's anything I can do for you.'

‘Just drop him off, any time after eight.'

‘I will, thank you.'

Ida rested a hand on Helen's arm. ‘Right, I'd better get in and cook something for our tea. My girls are always peckish when they get home of a nighttime.'

Once inside, Helen heard Bobby chattering away to himself. Happy to see him awake, she picked him up. ‘Let's go and find Aunty Sylvia, shall we?'

She laughed when Bobby babbled a reply and walked through to the living room.

Her aunt seemed smaller somehow, but her eyes were brighter than they had been for a while and her pallor seemed to have faded since the previous week when Helen had been able to visit her.

‘You look well,' Helen said, going over to her, bending and kissing her forehead.

‘I feel much better now I'm back home.' She opened her arms. ‘Let me give my great-nephew a cuddle.'

‘Are you sure you're ready to hold this pudding?' Helen wasn't worried for Bobby – she knew her aunt would never ask to hold him if she lacked the strength – but didn't want her to exert herself so soon after being discharged from Overdale.

‘I've waited far too long already.'

Helen saw her aunt's smile widen when Bobby reached out towards her. ‘You see? He's missed me as much as I've missed him.'

Helen knew she needed to tell Sylvia about Bobby being looked after by Mrs Hamel.

‘Why?' Aunt Sylvia grumbled.

‘Because you must take things easy.'

Her aunt scowled. ‘Nonsense, I've been looking forward to having him to myself.'

Helen sat down on one of the chairs. ‘I understand how you feel but I won't change my mind. Maybe by Monday you'll be stronger. You can have him then.'

The look of disappointment on her aunt's face tugged at Helen's heart. Bobby reached out and touched her lower lip with his finger, giggling when she pretended to bite it. ‘I suppose you're right.'

Helen recalled the boiled egg in her pocket. She took it out and held it up. ‘Look what I've brought you.'

Sylvia frowned. ‘How did you manage to stop it from breaking?'

‘It's hard-boiled.'

She watched as her aunt's eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘I hope you didn't take this without asking. You don't want to be caught stealing from the Wehrmacht, it would be a dreadful offence.'

‘Aunty,' Helen said, shocked her aunt assumed she would do such a thing. ‘I'd never steal.'

‘Then how did you get it?'

‘One of the soldiers saved it for me from his breakfast.'

Sylvia puffed out her cheeks and sat up slightly, handing Bobby back to Helen's arms. ‘Lovey, I'm not sure if that's not equally dangerous.'

Helen's earlier anguish resurfaced. ‘Please don't say that. It was all perfectly innocent, I can assure you.'

‘I don't doubt it, as far as you were concerned.' She frowned. ‘I'm not so sure the soldier felt the same way, though.'

‘I believe he did,' Helen assured her, beginning to wonder whether she was right.

‘Tell me exactly what happened, and I can make up my own mind.'

Helen explained about Hauptmann Schneider and how he made her feel. ‘I wouldn't accept anything from him, but Leutnant Müller seems very different. He's shy and not at all sure of himself.'

Her aunt stared at her thoughtfully. ‘Being shy doesn't mean he's trustworthy.' She hesitated. ‘I don't wish to upset you, dear,' she began. ‘You might have a child but you're still na?ve in the ways of the world. Some men might not be as gentlemanly as you suppose.'

Helen stared at her, trying to understand what she meant. Then it dawned on her, and she felt as if her aunt had slapped her. ‘You mean how I misjudged my relationship with Bobby's dad, Richard?'

‘Sorry, love, but yes, that's exactly what I mean. You thought him trustworthy, didn't you? And you knew him far longer than you have this chap.'

Helen got to her feet. ‘All I did was accept a boiled egg and I only took that because he intended it for Bobby. It wasn't even a gift for me.'

‘Do sit down and try not to overreact. Let me try to explain a bit better.'

‘I'd rather you didn't. This is nothing at all like what happened between me and Richard.' She winced, recalling her hurt at his betrayal, still so raw. ‘I don't know how much contact you've had with officers of the Wehrmacht, Aunty, but it's not as easy as you might think to refuse an offer from them.' Realising how that sounded, she added, ‘Although, naturally I would refuse anything I felt might be untoward.'

‘Helen, love. That's not what I meant, and I hope you know that.'

Helen did. She realised she was upsetting her aunt by her reaction and forced herself to calm down. She sat. ‘I'm sorry,' she said lowering her voice. ‘I didn't mean to be rude, but I couldn't bear for you, of all people, to think badly of me.' She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Sylvia reached out to take her arm. ‘My dearest girl, I would never think that of you. The circumstances with Bobby's father were heartbreaking. All I want for both of you,' she said, stroking Bobby's head, ‘is to be safe here, with me. I only meant to advise you.'

Guilt swept through Helen and once again tears threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I know and I feel badly for overreacting. I promise I'll never do anything to compromise my welfare, or Bobby's.'

‘I know you won't, sweetheart.' Her aunt smiled. ‘Let's agree to forget this conversation. Shall we go to the kitchen? We could slice a piece of bread each and cut this egg in half. I think we both deserve a tasty treat before our supper, don't you?'