Chapter 8

Dorothy seemed to understand the problem without being told. "Oh, and you'll need these." She opened a drawer and pulled out a parcel wrapped in brown paper. "Don't worry, they've never been worn. I got Polly to run them up for me. I - er - came into some white silk and it seemed a shame to waste it and poor Polly hasn't had much work for the last few years. Everyone getting by with 'make do and mend', you know. And I thought it would be nice to give her something new to make for a change. Strictly secret, of course."

There was something about the way she said this, and her hesitation over how she had come by it.

"Wherever did you get the silk?"

Dorothy sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well, I'd rather you didn't tell anyone, especially James. I don't think he'd approve. But I rescued this German pilot, you see."

Tilly blinked in surprise.

"I found him hanging from a tree. I thought he was dead at first and then I heard him groaning, so I went and fetched Young Ted and the doctor and we cut him down and put him in the wheelbarrow and took him back to the house."

"Good grief! Weren't you afraid he'd shoot you?" Tilly's idea of a German pilot was of a snarling monster, capable of raping nuns and impaling babies.

"Well I was, a bit. But he was only semi-conscious, you know, and he didn't look very dangerous. Just an ordinary young man. And I thought of my Johnny and how I hoped if he were shot down over enemy territory, some kind person would take him in and care for him. Anyway, that's what we did. And it turned out he didn't have a gun anyway. Poor boy."

Tilly was taken aback that anyone could think of a German as a 'poor boy.'

"We took him back to the house and then Dr Pollock patched him up. He had a broken leg and a fractured wrist. And I just put him in with the other boys. Of course, he couldn't speak a word of English, poor dear."

"But shouldn't you have reported it?"

"Oh, I did. I told Constable Beckett and he reported it to the proper authorities and it was decided," here Dorothy pursed her lips in amusement, "that he could hardly escape with one leg in plaster and an arm in a sling. So they let me keep him."

Tilly had the impression that strings had been pulled. "So what will happen to him when he is healed?"

"Oh, he's been healed for ages. This was over three years ago. He's still here. He works on the farm. His family had a farm in Germany and he's worked on a farm all his life. He's a marvellous worker."

"But shouldn't he be in a camp?"

Dorothy pursed her lips again. "Well, I suppose he should, really. But they seemed to forget about him and I wasn't going to draw attention to it. He's such a good worker. And I'm very fond of him. I'll introduce you later."

"But." There was something wrong here. "Why is a secret from James? Surely he must know?"

Dorothy looked confused. Then understanding dawned. "Not Hans. Hans isn't a secret. The parachute."

Tilly began to giggle and clapped her hand over her mouth. Dorothy looked uncomfortable. "Well," she said, wriggling slightly with embarrassment, "nobody asked about it. And it seemed a shame to waste it. And it was, after all, a German parachute. So it was just making good use of enemy material, so to speak."

Tilly was now laughing heartily. "What, making up silk underwear?"

"Oh, shush! Somebody might hear." Dorothy looked over her shoulder as if she thought that someone would walk in any minute and arrest her for theft.

"Anyway, the point is, there's loads of it left. You wouldn't believe how much silk there is in a parachute."

Tilly was being a bit slow on the uptake.

"Your wedding dress," whispered Dorothy. "It's been impossible to get decent dress material for years. But there's enough silk in my attic for the dress, train, everything. What do you think?"

"But won't James wonder where you got the material?"

"Of course not. If I actually told him where it came from he might get sniffy. But it wouldn't cross his mind otherwise. Anyway," Dorothy stood up and straightened her skirt. "I just need to check on the snacks. Try it on. I'll be back in ten minutes or so."

After she left the room, Tilly took off her clothes. With great relief, she hid the embarrassing grey underwear in her discarded dress, and began to put on the extravagant silk garments.

****

Tilly smiled as she remembered. Such happy times. And it seemed so close, now, as if it had just happened yesterday. So close ...

She looked at herself in the mirror. The dark red dress looked wonderful against her pale, creamy skin; and her dark hair, which she had always considered mousy, picked up red lights from the dress, giving it a deep auburn glow.

Why, she thought, I almost look beautiful.

She moved slightly and the heavy silk rustled. Beneath the dress, the white silk underwear felt luscious and sensuous against her skin. She had never in her life worn anything so luxurious.

I think I could get used to this.

There was a gentle knock at the door.

"Yes," Tilly called, a slight nervousness in her voice.

"Can I come in?"

It was Dorothy.

"Of course." Tilly laughed. "It is, after all, your bedroom."

"Yes, I know," Dorothy strode into the room and stood looking over Tilly's shoulder, "but I thought you might be in a state of undress."

Tilly smiled at her in the mirror.

"What do you think?" Dorothy asked. "Will it do?"

"Will it do?" Tilly turned and threw herself into Dorothy's arms, hugging her fiercely. "It's wonderful! I've never worn anything like this in my life, ever. Thank you so much."

Dorothy smiled with genuine pleasure. "I must say, it does suit you," she said. "You can keep it if you like."