Hero on a Bicycle by Shirley Hughes Read Free Book Online Page B

dearest dears . . .” She paused, gulped, and tried again. “I know I can trust you both completely. This has to be only between us. Maria knows, but of course she would never say anything. I’ve promised, you see. And it’s only for one night, so we’ll just have to get through it as best we can.”
    “Get through what?” asked Constanza.
    “Some people will be coming here tomorrow night. I got the message this afternoon. I don’t know who they are. They’ll be complete strangers. But I’ve agreed to let them stay here — to let them hide here — for one night only. Then they must be gone.”
    There was a brief pause while Constanza and Paolo digested this information in silence.
    “Maria and I have been making preparations to accommodate them in the cellar,” explained Rosemary. “Food and water, and somewhere for them to lie down and get some sleep if they can. And I want you two to carry on absolutely normally. In fact, it would be better if you don’t see or talk to them at all. I will be going to tomorrow’s evening Mass as usual, and I want you to have supper and go to bed early. If you hear any unexpected sounds in the night, take no notice and, whatever happens, don’t come downstairs. Is that understood?”
    Paolo was still too amazed to answer. But Constanza said coolly, “It’s the Partisans, isn’t it? They’re bringing escaped prisoners of war here, helping them to get back to their units and fight again on the Allied side.”
    Rosemary did not react to this immediately. She clasped her hands together very tightly.
    “How did you know this?” she asked at last.
    “Oh, Mamma — we’re not kids anymore. Of course we can guess what’s happening, and we know why you’re helping them: it’s what Babbo would expect from us.”
    “Yes . . . yes. Do you think I would do otherwise? But, Constanza — carissima — you must try to understand why I can’t involve you. That, too, is what your father would expect from me. I know it’s hard. It may even seem exciting to you. But it’s not a game — it’s too serious. You know what will happen if we’re found out.”
    She turned to Paolo beseechingly, half expecting him to say something. But he was still too surprised to speak. It was all coming together: the message he had carried, that conversation between his mother and those men behind the shed. Why hadn’t he guessed before? While he was pursuing his wild-goose chase up in the hills, trying to join the Partisans, the real action had been going on right here in his own home. “Don’t worry, Mamma. You can rely on us,” he said bravely.

T he next morning, the Crivelli family stayed close to the house and tried to maintain a normal routine. Neither Paolo nor Constanza went near the cellar, though they knew that by now everything had been made ready for — for whom, exactly? They both wondered but knew better than to ask.
    The house was unnaturally calm and silent. Then, at about noon, a motorcycle roared up the drive and the front doorbell rang. Rosemary, who was carrying a couple of blankets and a loaf of bread across the hall to the cellar, froze. Hardly anyone came to their front door these days. Maria labored slowly out of the kitchen to answer it. Rosemary only just had time to kick the cellar door closed before Lieutenant Helmut Gräss entered the hall, followed by Maria. He was in battle dress, wearing his service revolver and steel helmet.
    He saluted quickly and said, “Forgive this intrusion, Signora Crivelli. We are checking the whole area to see that all civilians are at home. There is a great deal of troop movement on the roads, which cannot be impeded.”
    He paused as his gaze fell on the blankets and bread that Rosemary was clutching. But before he could say anything else, Constanza appeared behind her mother. She had heard the conversation from upstairs and had come down to give her mother some moral support. I’ve got to get Helmut outside somehow, she thought