She leant toward me and whispered, ‘Have your breasts been sore?’

Jerking back, I stared in shock at her. ‘What are you trying to say?’

The chair creaked as she leant back into it again, her expression filled with knowing. ‘You may soon have some explaining to do to your cousin.’

I was angry now. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t be angry, child. You don’t know, do you?’

I just stared back at her, dread beginning to coil in my belly, making me nauseous again.

‘You’re with child.’

I continued to stare stupidly at her.

‘You’re pregnant,’ she repeated.

‘I can’t be,’ I whispered, aghast at the thought.

‘I’ve seen this many times before my dear. I’m quite sure you are.’

‘It’s not possible.’ I felt the blood drain from my head.

‘You do know how babies are made, don’t you?’

‘Of course,’ I snapped. It was possible but highly unlikely. This illness was surely something I had picked up at the airbase and the stress and the travelling just hadn’t allowed me to get over it.

She must have seen all this on my face. ‘It only takes once,’ she said gently.

‘I’m engaged to be married.’

‘Not to your cousin.’

‘No,’ I said. Shame blossomed in my chest. I couldn’t look at her.

‘These things happen, my dear,’ she said, patting my hand. ‘If I’m right, you should pace yourself on your journey home. Eat as well as you can especially at this time because not only does it affect you but the baby also. If you can get milk, drink as much as you can.’

A door closed as Erich returned. He looked different, more casual, in wool suit pants, cotton shirt and vest. A jacket hung over one arm and a soft cap sat on his head. He would blend in better among the travellers on the road now. In the other arm, he held his uniform.

‘Ah,’ said the woman standing, nodding in approval. ‘They fit perfectly and suit you a lot better than they did my husband. I would dispose of that uniform at the first opportunity you have.’

‘Thank you,’ said Erich. ‘They’re wonderful.’

‘Well, you had best be on your way.’ She wrapped the biscuits in a cloth and handed them to me as I stood. ‘Here, take these to nibble on.’

I hugged her tightly. ‘I’ll never forget your kindness,’ I said, kissing her cheek.

‘You take care of yourself,’ she said, before opening the door. Casually checking the street, she nodded for us to go.

*

Continuing our trek north, we walked through the fields and countryside. The blisters on my feet and heels had stopped bleeding and hard calluses began to form where my shoes rubbed. Often we slept out in the open or sheltered under bushy undergrowth with only our coats and jackets and each other to keep warm. Although it seemed a shame to leave behind the good woollen cloth of Erich’s uniform and coat, it was too dangerous to be found with them. There was a strange expression on Erich’s face when we left them hidden under a rock in the woods, as if he was saying goodbye to almost a decade of proud service to his country, working in a job that he loved. I felt sad he had no memento left of those years, remembering the two War Merit Cross medals he had received for exceptional service, left at the kloster.

We had bread and an assortment of vegetables from farmers we met. Our diet was supplemented with small apples from orchards or growing wild and foraged leafy green herbs such as wild garlic. Occasionally we were given milk to drink and at those times, even though I had dismissed what she had told me, I thought of the woman back in the village. My nausea had stayed with me but I rarely vomited after the day I’d met the American soldiers.

I pushed myself hard each day but there were occasions I had to ask Erich to stop so I could rest. At times I fell into an immediate and deep sleep. He sometimes looked at me strangely but I refused to acknowledge the questions I knew he had. Whenever he asked, I told him I was fine, just tired from the rigors of the road.

Almost a week after leaving the village with the shot villagers, we were walking across a meadow of spring flowers and poppies. Admiring the delicate red petals and black centres, I was explaining to Erich how I would best photograph them when we heard shouting and screaming. They didn’t sound like the screams of agony or despair. Crouching low, we followed the sounds to a tiny country lane. The sounds of laughter and joy floated up to us on the hillside.

‘What do you think it is?’ I whispered to Erich.

‘It must be the end of the war. I’ll go down and find out.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ I said.

We walked casually onto the lane, joining the group of people that walked along it. They were travellers like us, smiling or laughing, and most had a spring in their step.

‘What’s happened?’ Erich asked one of the men at the head of the group. Although it wasn’t even midday, he was holding up another man, who appeared to be drunk.

‘Haven’t you heard?’ said the man.

Erich shook his head.

‘They haven’t heard,’ repeated various members of the group like a raucous cacophony of birds.

‘The war is over!’ The man laughed. ‘An announcement was made this morning over the radio.’

‘Here, toast to the new Germany!’ slurred his friend, lifting a bottle of champagne that was three-quarters full. The dark-haired man took the bottle and offered it to Erich and I. ‘Come, live a little,’ he said.

‘Why not!’ I grabbed the bottle from him and took a few long swallows with the group cheering me on. Erich took the bottle from me as fizz dribbled down my chin and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, laughing. ‘What about you?’ I dared him. His green eyes shone with a mischief I had hardly seen before and, lifting one eyebrow cheekily, he guzzled a long draught of champagne to the joyous shouts of the group. He handed the bottle back to the man.

‘What date is it?’ Erich asked.

‘Seventh May, 1945,’ said the man, saluting with the bottle. ‘A day none of us will ever forget.’

‘You’re right.’

‘Good luck to you and your beautiful wife. Don’t forget to celebrate this memorable day,’ he said with a wicked twinkle in his eye. I blushed but said nothing.

‘And to you,’ said Erich, smiling broadly. ‘I’m sure we’ll find a way to celebrate, my beautiful wife and I.’ He held my hand once again and we stood on the embankment of the lane, watching the rag-tag group, mostly tipsy, file past.

‘Goodbye and thank you,’ I called after them and saw the man raise his hand in farewell.

‘So, do you want to celebrate, wifey?’ Erich asked impishly. I elbowed him in the ribs and watched his eyes widen with surprise as he emitted a soft grunt.

I smiled innocently. ‘Something wrong?’ The laughter that bubbled within tugged at the corners of my mouth, making them quiver.

‘No, not at all.’ Erich stood tall, pretending to survey his surroundings. I could see his mouth twitch as he tried to withhold his laughter. I couldn’t hold it in any more, laughing loud and with abandon and Erich burst into fits of laughter himself. He pulled me back into the meadow where we collapsed among the flowers, giggling uncontrollably like children.

‘I haven’t laughed like that in so long,’ I said stretching out and sunning myself like a cat.

‘I don’t remember the last time I laughed,’ said Erich.

The breeze rippled through the meadow, causing the grass and flowers to gently bend and sway, ruffling his hair, the chestnut highlights glinting in the sunlight. He looked peaceful. I noticed his skin had darkened to a healthy glow despite the lines of his face becoming more angular than I remembered, even underneath the growth that had begun to resemble a beard.

This would make a wonderful photo, I thought. I remembered my promise to my father, to record the special moments. An apt commemoration of a day we would never forget. I sat up, reaching for my suitcase and pulled out my camera and the precious film Vati had given me.

‘Can I photograph you? I want a reminder of this day.’

‘If you like,’ said Erich lazily. ‘How do you want me?’ He cracked open an eye.

‘Don’t move. You’re perfect just as you are.’ His eye closed, a slight smile playing on his lips.

I took my time, my attention fully focused on him. I didn’t want to waste film and I wanted to capture the moment perfectly. Erich rested patiently, allowing me to get lost in my work. It felt wonderful to be behind the camera once again and I silently sent my thanks to Vati, hoping he was safe.

‘Done,’ I said, putting the camera carefully away.

Erich still didn’t move. I lay back down beside him.

‘I could stay here forever,’ I murmured sleepily, warm and content. The lines of Erich’s body were long, lean and elegant and the desire to trace his form with my hands made them twitch with the control I imposed upon them.

‘Mmm, me too.’ Erich lifted his face to the sun, in obvious pleasure.

I turned onto my side to look at him better. ‘Let’s not travel any further today. I can hear a stream from here and I could do with a good wash and to soak my feet, couldn’t you?’

‘Is that how you want to celebrate this auspicious day?’

‘Why not? There’s no hurry to get home.’

‘You’ve convinced me then.’ His head flopped back down, as if it was too much effort to hold it up.

‘You look very relaxed.’

Erich nodded, smiling, but didn’t open his eyes.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this relaxed.’

‘It’s been a very long time.’

‘When did you last feel like this?’ Travelling together, we had shared many titbits of our lives, but there was still so much about him I didn’t know.