Free Shadow on the Land by Anne Doughty

hers, but only Alex understood what he said before he passed out again.
    ‘I must be dead for you are an Angel.’
     
    ‘Oh the poor boy,’ said Emily, her face creased with distress, as she listened to Alex’s account of the afternoon. ‘Are you sure it was safe to take him to hospital?’
    ‘As safe as we could make it,’ Alex said firmly ‘We did manage to get assurances from the Chief Constable that he would be guarded until he was fit to be moved. Thank goodness we had a Justice of the Peace on the Board.’
    ‘I expect he and the Chief Constable went to school together,’ she said briskly.
    ‘More than likely. He was certainly sympathetic when I told him what I’d been able to find out.’
    ‘Oh Alex, what would have happened if you hadn’t spoken German?’
    ‘He had a little English, but not much use for explaining himself. I’ll tell you something though,’ he added with a little laugh, ‘he seemed to understand every word Jane spoke.’
    Alex paused, unsure how much more he should say about Jane’s part in the afternoon. He could certainly tell her just how capable she’d shown herself, but Emily would know that already. She’d seen Jane in action many a time, whether it was splinting a bird’s wing or bandaging Johnny’s knee.
    He thought back to the afternoon and tried to remember the exact sequence of events after Jane had brought him round by bathing his face and hands.
    ‘I need to ask you some questions,’ he had begun somewhat hesitantly in German.
    He was amazed that a language he’d spoken so seldom since he was a labourer in German Township should come back to him so easily after all these years.
    The blue eyes regarded him anxiously.
    ‘This is my father,’ said Jane quietly. ‘He wants to help you.’
    The young man had turned to look at her. Just one brief glance, then suddenly there were huge tears running down his face. Jane took his hand and held it, smiled at him and said, ‘You’ll feel better soon. Drink some more water.’
    He’d wiped his tears with the back of his hand, drunk the water as obediently as a child and begun to speak, his voice husky. He’d told them he’d had to join either the Army or the Luftwaffe because it would be bad for his socialist father who had been sent to a labour camp if the family did not supportthe Fuhrer. Both his brothers were already dead, one shot down over England and one killed in a raid on the French airfield where he was based.
    As for himself, he did not want to fight or to kill anyone. He was trying to fly to Ireland. It was a neutral country and they would not shoot him, but he had no maps and there had been cloud over the sea when he set out from the north of France. So he had got lost.
    When he came out of the cloud and saw the coast to the west he was so happy. But when he came lower he saw airfields below him. He could see the markings on the planes. They were British and he had no more petrol. The plane was stalling and he had to bring her down quickly. He saw the lake and headed for it.
    ‘Have you a headache?’ asked Jane, before Alex could make any comment.
    He nodded.
    ‘Yes, it is very sore.’
    As she gave him some Anadin and encouraged him to drink another glass of water, Alex realised that she made tiny gestures with her hands whenever she spoke to him. She might have no German, but he was beginning to wonder just how much of the young man’s story she already understood simply from looking at him.
    ‘So what will happen next?’ Emily asked anxiously.
    Alex realised he’d fallen silent, his mind moving back over the afternoon’s events.
    ‘X-rays tomorrow. They might transfer him to a military hospital if the leg
is
broken. Then a P. O. W. camp. He’ll be no worse off in the North than in the South.’
    ‘Can one visit prisoners?’ Emily asked, folding up her knitting and putting back in its cretonne bag.
    ‘I don’t know. But I know someone who’ll be trying to find out.’
    ‘Would that be