Page 19 of Neighbors at War

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.