radio station was on the long list of offences the German Army deemed punishable by death.
‘They might search,’ Henderson yelled frantically, as he stuffed the map and paperwork into his briefcase. ‘Get these papers out of the house. Keep low so they don’t spot you.’
As Rosie raced out the back door with Henderson’s briefcase, Maxine walked on to the front lawn to welcome the two cars coming up the driveway. The first was a luxurious Citroën saloon, with Luc Boyle at the wheel and his wife Vivien in the passenger seat. There were two Germans in the Kübelwagen behind.
Luc pulled down his window as he came to a halt and Maxine saw that his wife was crying.
‘Whatever happened?’ Maxine asked, as Henderson stayed back in the house.
He’d made a contingency plan for a German raid and kept a loaded German service revolver under a paving slab out back. If the situation looked bad, he’d go out the back door, grab the weapon and sneak up on the two Germans.
‘Something to do with your boys,’ Vivien sobbed. ‘They’re in Calais with Dumont. We led the Germans out here because they didn’t know the way.’
Henderson strode out when he recognised the passenger stepping out of the German car. He was military police and Henderson had translated in several meetings with him before being reassigned to Oberst Ohlsen.
‘What’s the matter, sir?’ Henderson asked, in German.
The policeman pointed at the rear seats of the car. ‘You and your wife, get in. You must come to Calais at once and speak with Major Ghunsonn.’
Paul watched from inside the house as his surrogate parents climbed into the open-topped Kübelwagen. Henderson was trying to hold a conversation with the military police officer, but judging by the body language he was in no mood to listen.
Lottie the goat bleated with disgust before scrambling off as the two cars used the front lawn to turn around. When the headlights disappeared from view, Paul slumped into a dining chair and felt sick with nerves.
A moment later the door creaked and Rosie came in. ‘What was that all about?’
‘Maybe they found the radio,’ Paul suggested.
‘I doubt it,’ Rosie said. ‘I mean, if they thought we were spies they would have taken everyone and turned the house upside down looking for clues.’
‘Plus Luc and Vivien were there, and earlier …’ Paul tailed off, but Rosie glowered at him.
‘Earlier what?’ Rosie snapped. ‘Spit it out.’
‘We robbed this house. Like, a really nice one with loads of fancy stuff in it. Maybe they found out.’
Rosie bristled with contempt. ‘I know Marc and PT are always up to no good with that fat moron Dumont, but why did you get involved this time?’
‘I didn’t really,’ Paul explained. ‘I only wanted to tag along and not be such a loner for once.’
‘What a mess,’ Rosie sighed. ‘I mean, robbing a house. It’s not like there’s anything we badly need and it’s attracting attention that we can do without.’complete
‘So what do we do now?’ Paul asked anxiously. ‘What if Maxine and Henderson don’t come back? What about all those notices the Germans put up everywhere about shooting people for doing any tiny little thing wrong?’
Paul backed up because Rosie had the look she always got when she was about to thump him.
‘Boys!’ Rosie shouted. ‘You’re total morons, all three of you.’
‘So what do we do?’ Paul asked.
‘Henderson’s got all that information to send. I’ve already started encoding the message.’
‘You’re still going to transmit?’
‘Absolutely.’ Rosie nodded. ‘And if Henderson isn’t back we’ll sit up until two and listen to the return message too. I’ll go out the back and grab Henderson’s briefcase. You’ll have to help me go through his notes and work out which information is most important.’
*
PT, Marc and Dumont sat against the wall of a bare hotel room. Strip out the furniture, strengthen the doors and weld bars over the windows and just about any hotel makes a prison. There was a bucket on the floor as a toilet, which created a nauseating stink because Dumont had used it to throw up. A bare bulb illuminated walls and a floor spattered with blood and down the hallway a woman screamed horrifically as the military police worked her over.
Marc was in the best condition out of the three boys, but he almost wished that he was drifting in and out of consciousness like PT or paralysed with fear like Dumont, who still had the noose around his neck. As the woman’s screams pierced the walls, Marc