Anna At War by Helen Peters

Anna At War by Helen Peters

Author:Helen Peters [Helen Peters]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788005890
Publisher: Nosy Crow
Published: 2019-08-01T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Do Not Believe Rumours and Do Not Spread Them”

If the Invader Comes

My blood pounded in my ears. My legs felt weak.

It sounded as though the man was shuffling across the floor. I had to get away. I tiptoed out of the barn and sprinted across the yard, my heart pounding.

I caught up with the others just outside the cottage. I skidded to a stop, flailing my arms, and grabbed Frank’s shoulder to steady myself.

“Ow,” he said, pushing my hand away. “What are you doing?”

“Come to the tree house,” I hissed.

Molly looked at me in surprise. Then her look turned to one of alarm.

“You’re completely white. What’s happened?”

“In the tree house. It’s top secret.”

I ran down the garden path and out through the little wooden gate at the bottom of the garden that led to the sheep field. I heard Molly and Frank following me.

I didn’t stop until I reached the oak tree in the middle of the field. Then I turned slowly in a circle, scanning the horizon in all directions, trying to take deep breaths to stop my heart thudding against my ribcage.

There was nobody around.

We climbed the rope ladder to the tree house Uncle Bert had built. It wasn’t really a house, just a plank platform with a low wooden wall around the edge. In winter, you could see for miles, but now the leaves formed a thick green canopy and we were completely hidden from view.

“Now, tell us everything,” said Molly.

“We need to whisper,” I said. “Frank, can you be lookout?”

Frank climbed up to the next branch, where there was a gap in the canopy. Molly shifted impatiently.

“Come on, Anna. Spit it out. It can’t be that important.”

Anger flared inside me.

“It’s about as important as anything could be. I wouldn’t tell you unless it was important.”

She frowned. “What is it then?”

My stomach felt like a pit of snakes. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“He’s German,” I whispered.

“What?” Molly looked blank.

“That man. He’s not a British soldier. Everything he told us was a lie.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When I went back in the barn, I heard him swear in German. He didn’t know I was there. He’s German.”

For a minute, she just stared at me. Then she whispered, “So you mean … he’s a spy? A German spy?”

“Oh, my goodness,” said Frank, his eyes huge. “A German spy in our barn. Oh, my goodness. We need to tell the warden.” He climbed down from his lookout branch and tugged at Molly’s arm. “Quick, let’s go.”

Molly shook her arm free. “Get off, Frank.” She turned to me. “Are you really sure he’s German? He doesn’t sound a bit foreign.”

“Perhaps he’s lived in England for a long time. But he’s definitely German. He started muttering to himself, and it sounded German, but I thought I must be imagining it. But then he dropped something and swore, and it was definitely German.”

“He must have come down in a parachute,” said Frank. “That’s probably how he sprained his ankle, not from tripping in a ditch at all.



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