Eagle Day - Robert Muchamore Page 0,88

girl. We bring stuff out in tins, like corned beef. You get sick of it.’

‘Revolting,’ Rosie said, smiling. ‘And boring.’

The German laughed. ‘You know, maybe you and my kid sister are on to something. When you get down to it, life pretty boring.’is

‘Well,’ Rosie said, smiling as she pointed her thumb backwards over her shoulder. ‘I’d better get home before my mum yells at me for not helping with the dinner. Nice meeting you – er …?’

‘Manfried.’ The German smiled.

‘I’m Rosie,’ Rosie said. ‘Maybe I’ll talk to you again some time.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

17:10 The Farm

When Rosie got back to the cottage the kitchen was stifling and filled with the smell of the rosemary she’d rubbed on to the slow cooking pork. The fire under the oven seemed low, but as she grabbed the tongs to add coal she was startled by footsteps coming from the hallway that led towards the bedrooms.

‘Dumont,’ Rosie said, startled. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Cases and bags all packed up,’ Dumont said suspiciously. ‘Where are you going?’

The back door was never locked, so stepping into the kitchen and yelling to see if anyone was about would be OK, but Dumont had clearly been nosing around inside the bedrooms. Rosie was furious and had to think quickly.

‘We’re not going anywhere,’ she answered unconvincingly. ‘We’ve been getting a lot of mice, so we didn’t want things to get chewed up. What were doing back there, anyway?’you

‘I came looking for the boys. Thought they might want to hang out for a couple of hours.’

Paul, Marc and PT had been banned from going anywhere near the village since Marc and PT’s arrest, but PT still occasionally went hunting with Dumont.

‘Marc’s working,’ Rosie said, as she dropped a small shovelful of coal into the kitchen range. ‘PT’s gone into town to take Paul to a doctor.’

Dumont raised his eyebrows. ‘Your brother’s so weedy. I never get sick.’

Rosie had never liked the way Dumont picked on Paul. ‘I suppose no self-respecting germ would go near you,’ she said curtly.

‘Cheeky,’ Dumont said, as he stepped up close to Rosie. ‘You know, you look pretty with all that lipstick. What you need is a good strong boyfriend, like me.’

Dumont made Rosie uneasy at the best of times and he was close enough that his body odour was overpowering the herbs.

‘Go home and take a bath,’ she said, crinkling her nose and stepping back. ‘You smell worse than a pig.’

Dumont didn’t like this. He hissed as he grabbed Rosie’s arms and shoved her back against the worktop beside the sink.

‘Get off,’ Rosie screamed, as Dumont pressed his body against her and forced a kiss on the lips.

‘Make me,’ Dumont teased, as he tasted the lipstick smeared over his top lip with the tip of his tongue.

Dumont grabbed Rosie’s thigh with one meaty hand and dug his thumb in hard. She was determined not to give him satisfaction by showing how much it hurt as she glanced around, looking for a weapon.

‘You’re all on your own,’ Dumont teased, as he put his other hand on Rosie’s bum. ‘What you gonna do to stop me?’

Rosie’s classmates in Paris often teased her about her bulky shoulders and unladylike arms, but they were a distinct advantage as Dumont tried another vile kiss.

‘You’re so powerful,’ Rosie said meekly, smiling as if she’d changed her mind and wanted him.

Dumont grew excited and clutched Rosie’s bum tighter, but as he started to kiss her again Rosie grabbed his ear and tugged with all her might.

‘Bitch!’ Dumont shouted as he took half a step back. Rosie was weaker than Dumont and only had a few seconds to stick the advantage. She lunged forwards and sunk her teeth into Dumont’s nose.

‘Happy now?’ Rosie screamed, pulling herself free as Dumont clutched his face.

She thought about running out the door and screaming for one of the two labourers, but she didn’t know where they were and couldn’t risk being caught by Dumont, so she moved towards the oven, grabbed the coal scoop and dug out flaming lumps of coal.

Dumont had regained enough composure to lunge forwards, but Rosie swung around. Her leg seared with pain as it caught the knob on the oven door, but she threw the burning coals at Dumont’s chest and his shirt caught light as he backed away.

‘I’ll kill you,’ Dumont screamed, frantically bashing his flaming shirt as he crashed backwards into the kitchen table.

Rosie grabbed an iron frying skillet that hung above the stove and gave Dumont a two-handed smash on the