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him.” Tomas came up to Michel.
“There’s a dead Nazi by the tree, and a dead old man.” He hauled Michel to his feet and slapped him on his back. “Good job son. Now you have truly experienced the war.” Michel stared at him dazed; then gave him a small smile. He buried the incident at the back of his brain, made himself believe that another man had killed the Nazi. He noticed two children on the ground; a girl holding a boy to her side. She was staring at him so he stared back. She had Mr Partouche’s features he realized. He was aware of a man speaking to him, then going over to the children on the floor and speaking to them too. Everyone was heading back to base so Michel headed back too. Suddenly they were back at the camp. Everyone was silent. They had lost two members and silence was their way of grieving for them. Jonathan took Michel and the two kids back to Michel’s house. He learnt that she was called Rachelle and she was 12 years old. Her brother was called Benedict and he was only 8 years old. Michel listened to them talk to Jonathan as he followed them home. As they reached the yard, he grabbed hold of Jonathan and begged him not to tell Sophie what had really happened. Jonathan looked confused but agreed.

That day lasted for ever. Michel couldn’t look at anyone. When his Maman asked him why he was so quiet, he just grunted that he was tired. Finally it was bedtime. He went up early, glad for once that Jonathan stayed downstairs to play cards with Tommy. He slowly got undressed then leaned on the windowsill to stare at the stars. He was a killer. He had killed a man today. He stared at his hands, seeing red taint the tan. He couldn’t bear himself and went to bed to fall into oblivion. But sleep never came. He lay in bed. Jonathan came up so Michel stilled his breathing, not wanting to cope with anything. The mattress dipped as usual, Jonathan stole some of the blanket as usual. But he wasn’t usual. He Michel had killed a man. Suddenly he could visualize Papa on the battle-field, staring at a gaping wound in his chest, watching the red seep out of him. He missed him so much. Why did Papa of all people have to die? He started sobbing in to his pillow. He felt his stomach constrict with the force of his loss, the hole papa’s death had made in him ripped apart. He felt the force of it and tried to rein it in, but it was no use. Suddenly he wasn’t alone anymore. He was enfolded in a warm and strong hug. Michel tried to push away from the security of the arms, but they wouldn’t let him leave.
“Michel, you have to let it out, it’s good to cry.”
That was it. The last lock holding back the dam broke and he felt the tsunami erupt from him. He shuddered and howled and gasped with the strength of the unrelenting force on him. But still the safe arms encircled him, holding him close to the warm body. The sea inside of him finally emptied leaving him cold and numb. He shivered though it was August, his teeth clacking together. Jonathan took him and rolled him in the blanket though he tried to protest. Jonathan then wrapped his arms around the bundle. But he was still so cold. Jonathan finally couldn’t bear the shivers. He climbed in to the swaddle with Michel and wrapped himself around Michel. Slowly the shivers stopped. Michel fell into a fitful sleep.

The next few days were a blur for him. He stayed in bed, speaking to no one, always cold. His shivers only stopped at night when Jonathan climbed into bed with him. Only then did he feel secure. He tried to ask Jonathan to stay with him in the day, but he couldn’t move his mouth, couldn’t make his voice work. Only the sound of Maman’s voice begging him to get better made him come out of the daze that had enveloped him. For the first time, he fell into a deep dreamless sleep. He woke up and saw a black haired angle standing over him, holding a cup of water. She started to speak in a voice like honey.
“Do you want to drink something? Jonathan said you might be thirsty when you woke up.” He sat up and stared at her. He took the cup from her and tried to drink but his hand was shaking too much, he spilled the water.
“Here, let me help you.” She calmly sat next to him and helped him sip. That little action exhausted him. He lay back down to continue staring at her.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Rachelle Partouche. I live here now with my brother Benedict. Well, at least till the end of the war.” Her smile was like a ray of sunshine to him. He felt feelings stir inside of him that he had never felt before.

He recovered quickly. Jonathan hovered close to him the first few days after he left his bed. Neither of them returned to the Maquis. Tomas had come to visit them, and he understood. The men were welcome to return to Sophie’s house, and many of them did. Michel slowly grew out of the shock; he learnt to live with his murder, partly because of his family, partly because of Jonathan and partly because of Rachelle. They kept his mind occupied. Jonathan once again became elusive, but this time he disappeared with Tommy. One night Michel confronted him.
“Are you going back to the Maquis?”
Jonathan was silent for so long Michel feared he had fallen asleep.
“No. Michel, I love you guys and I love it here but I am English. My soul yearns for my country, for my friends and family. Tommy also feels this way. We are planning to escape back to England.”
Michel felt another piece of his heart rip, but he kept it under control.
“Jonathan I know the coast. Papa used to take us every year and he taught us how to swim, sail and fish. I could steal you a boat. Do you know how to ride one?”
“Tommy does. He comes from near the sea. Are you serious Michel? You would really help us, even though you want us to stay?”
Michel was silent for a moment.
“Jonathan. I love you. You have been the older brother I always wanted. But your family must miss you, your father must cry for you. And what about your girlfriend? She still wants to marry you. Just promise you’ll stay in touch.”
Jonathan leaned over and hugged the younger boy. He was amazed at the integrity Michel possessed. When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion.
“Michel, I don’t know how to thank you. The first invite I will send off to my wedding will be yours. You are my brother, I love you too. We only spent a year together, but I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime with you.”

The next few days were spent concentrating on their plans. Michel drew for them diagrams of where the small boats were kept, where the Germans kept a lookout. It was decided that Michel would accompany them so as to help them steal the boat. At first they weren’t going to tell Sophie about their departure, but on the night before, they felt they couldn’t hold back. Jonathan hugged each of the children in turn, shedding a few tears. Sophie didn’t hide her tears, and she hugged him for a full five minutes. They exchanged addresses, and he promised to visit after the war. Tommy also got a great goodbye, especially from the younger children with whom he had formed a great bond. That night in bed, Michel shed some tears for Jonathan while Jonathan did the same for him. They spent the night awake, talking, wrapped in each other’s arms. They would both have to get used to sleeping solitarily again. They spoke openly that night, telling each other secrets and being honest. Jonathan had one last message before they got up.
“Michel, I see you looking at Rachelle. I see her looking back at you. Don’t miss your chance, if you love her, ask her and see how she responds. Never lose 3 years from your loved ones like I did. Michel thanked Jonathan, and then it was time to leave. They slid silently from the house, grabbing the bicycle’s Danielle had stolen. They sped across the dark lanes, peddling fast and furiously. The sea became a great mass in front of them. They finally reached sand. Michel took them to the boats, his intuition telling him where to tread to avoid the German spotlights. One of the biggest boats was a dark red one. It had belonged to Mr and Mme Lombrosau who had been deported. Michel quickly untied it from the pier and waited for the others to join him.
“Bye Tommy. Bye Jonathan.” The men hugged the boy; Jonathan’s was long and lingering. He jumped out the boat and watched as they cast off. Tears threatened to spill, but he was in danger on the pier. He bound heavy rocks on 2 of the stolen bicycles and drowned them. He quickly pedalled off back home.

The routine at home was a strange one. Michel kept looking to his side to tell Jonathan something when he remembered that Jonathan had gone. They still lived in fear of the Germans, of the air raids that were more frequent. They lived in fear for Tommy’s and Jonathan’s life. They didn’t know if they managed to reach England. The family grew closer, took comfort through each other’s presence. Michel was still lonely. He missed Jonathan the most at night-time, when he tossed alone in his bed. He once woke up sweating. He retched as he remembered the nightmare.
“Are you OK?” The voice frightened him half to death. Rachelle stood by the window, a dark angel. Staring at her, he decided to take Jonathans advice.
“Rachelle, come here.” She slowly approached him. He sat up and took her hand in his.
“I… I’ve been feeling something for you, something quite strong. Do you feel the same thing for me?” Her hair swung in front of her face. Michel swung it back and saw her blushing face nod. He sighed in relief.
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” She looked at him with a big smile and nodded her head. Feeling strangely grown up, he brought his face forwards and her face down, and kissed her. On the lips. She let out a sigh, and he felt a huge jolt of happiness running through him. From that moment, the nights weren’t so lonely anymore. He had Rachelle to share them with. Life continued. The radio spoke of the Germans losing the war, but nobody believed it anymore. They had been saying that since the war started in 1939. They just hoped for a good life

One night Michel was lying with Rachelle on the sofa. Sophie sat on the love seat by the window, knitting. Laurent, Benedict and Sonia were playing a game of cards on the floor. Danielle was brushing her hair in the doorway. Clara and Arnaud came giggling down the stairs to come and lie down with Michel and Rachelle on the sofa. The night was blustery and dark. They were all comfortable in their positions. A knock on the door broke the comfortable silence.
“Michel?” Sophie asked.
He groaned and swung himself up. He could see a shadow by the door.
“Who is it?” He asked tentatively.
“Can I have shelter from the elements tonight?” Strange, thought
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