Eagle Day - Robert Muchamore Page 0,72
came to the beach once, so he’d evolved a new style of simple pencil drawings.
Each one took less than fifteen minutes and Paul discovered that the soldiers were happy to pay twenty-five francs (or the equivalent in jam or chocolate) if he drew on large pieces of draftsman’s paper which Marc stole from the dockyards and sold to him for two francs a sheet.
This probably made it the most expensive paper in France, but Paul didn’t mind because on a good day he could sell a dozen drawings and he earned more in one week than a French factory worker made in a month. When Paul wasn’t busy drawing he fantasised about all the things he’d buy when there were goods in the shops again.
Depending upon the tide the Germans usually finished their training for the day somewhere between two and six o’clock. Today was one of the earlier days and, after he’d been paid for his last batch of drawings by three soggy Germans, he grabbed his wicker basket and headed back to the farm under a dull sky.
The farm had changed significantly over the previous month. It was harvest-time for many crops and the Germans were anxious to avoid a winter famine. Some landowners and their families had been allowed back into the area, while prisoners of war were now allowed out of the camps each day to work the land.
Henderson had used his many contacts at headquarters to secure the daytime release of an experienced farm manager and two labourers, and a permit to buy diesel for the truck. With Henderson, Marc and Paul earning money and Maxine selling eggs and vegetables at market in Calais they’d become quite prosperous.
The house had been fixed up and painted, they’d bought three extra cows from Luc Boyle and taken over harvesting several of Luc’s neglected fields on neighbouring farms.
‘Afternoon, Eugene,’ Paul said cheerfully as he saw the youngest of the prison labourers resting up against a dilapidated outbuilding.
Eugene was a villainous looking eighteen year old from Lyon, who was usually in good spirits. ‘Ahh, it’s the little collaborator!’ He smiled, as Paul walked towards him.
‘Chocolate?’ Paul asked, as Eugene looked into his basket. ‘Take a couple for your friends back at the camp. I’ve got more than I can eat.’
Eugene nodded gratefully as he took three bars and ripped the foil from one before sticking the end in his mouth. ‘How much did you make today?’
‘Only a hundred and fifty francs,’ Paul said. ‘But I’m asking for food and stuff whenever I can get it. There’s plenty of food on the farm now, but with no transport and all the farms in a state I reckon there’ll be a shortage this winter. So I’m telling the Germans to bring me tinned food and coffee and stuff and in a few months I’ll be able to sell them for a mint.’
‘You’re a proper little capitalist,’ Eugene said, grinning.
‘What’s a capitalist?’ Paul asked.
‘A greedy pig like you who thinks about making money on the back of other people’s hunger.’
‘I just you three bars of chocolate,’ Paul noted. ‘If I was greedy, would I have done that?’gave
‘I know,’ Eugene said. ‘I’m teasing. You’ve got a good heart, so I expect we’ll spare you after the communist revolution.’
‘Are you OK?’ Paul asked. ‘You look tired.’
‘Shattered dreams,’ Eugene said vaguely, as he rubbed sweat off his brow. ‘I’m starting to wonder about getting home, you know? It’s better working here than being cooped up in the camp, but my own family has a farm. At first everyone was saying we’ll be home in a few weeks. Then it was , but now they’ve started sending prisoners to Germany. Six hundred went off to help with the harvest in Germany last week. I got back to camp last night and found that two trainloads more had been shipped off to Schwarzheide to work in a chemical plant.’They’ll have to send all us prisoners home before it gets cold
‘Crap,’ Paul said. ‘They wouldn’t do that if they were about to release everyone.’
‘That’s what I’m thinking.’ Eugene nodded dismally. ‘I’m a slave, and I’ve got a nasty feeling that the Germans won’t be setting me free any time soon.’
‘That’s rough,’ Paul said. ‘But things change, you know? I mean everything’s got worse this year, but who’s to say it won’t turn around some time soon?’
‘You’re a capitalist an optimist.’ Eugene managed a smile. ‘If my knee hadn’t been injured at the time I would have escaped in