19. THE COTTAGE IN THE WOODS

A Chapter by Peter Rogerson

The Soperintendent has a job for Fe;licia.

THE COTTAGE IN THE WOODS

19. Meeting and Greeting.

Superintendent Partridge did something he rarely if ever did. He wandered into the virtually deserted Incident room where Constable Felicity Ruby was sitting at a computer terminal and shaking her head as if just about everything she was consulting was wrong and muttering to herself about superior idiots who didn’t understand humanity..

“Ah,” he almost boomed, “Constable Ruby is it? The Chief Constable was explaining to me how much he admires your academic achievements.”

Felicity nodded. “My dad knows him sir,” she said with a warm smile, “they were at school together, and played rugby in the same teams when they were in their teens, before they went their separate ways and got married.”

“So I believe.” The Superintendent’s heart flipped when she mentioned the sport the constable’s father had played with the chief constable when they’d been younger. A mental image of a young man in white shorts racing across muddy grass flashed though his mind. He’d never played rugby himself and wished that he had, if only for those white shorts. He shook himself.

“Amyway,” he grunted, “apparently you’ve studied a little German when you were still at school.”

“I did it to “A” level and got a good pass,” smiled Felicity.

“That’s what I understood. Rightly, he’s proud of you. I wish I was that proud of my son, but he’s more into the sciences. Studying for a degree in chemistry of all things.”

“They’re important these days,” she murmured, not quite sure what the conversation was supposed to be about.

“Exactly. But so is German, and understanding that I’ve got a special assignment for you.” He sounded hesitant, as though he was unsure whether he really should be asking what he was about to suggest of such a young woman.

“Sir?” The monosyllabic question prompted him to explain what the conversation was really about.

“You are aware of the elderly lady who lives in a cottage in Brumpton Woods? The lady known as Winifred Winterbotham?”

“Of course, sir, though I don’t think that the Inspector sees her in quite the same light.”

“I’ve spoken to him and have his assurance that he won’t in any way hamper you if you are involved in the Chief Constable’s special assignment.”

“He wouldn’t dare!” she smiled.

“Maybe you’re right, Constable, but remember, he is your superior officer and has a long service to be proud of!”

“Yes sir,” Felicity felt suitably chastised.

“Well, to the crux of the matter. Miss Winifred Winterbotham has a brother. Or rather, a half brother.”

“She never mentioned anything like that, sir..”

“She wouldn’t have because she didn’t know. Let me explain. Her father was a German pilot who, for reasons better known to himself chose to escape from Germany during the second world war and fly secretly to England, where he crash-landed in Brumpton woods. We know that really happened, there’s photographic proof that something like that happened, and it’s a bit of modern science that adds to her story.”

“I’m intrigued, sir.”

“Well, the science is DNA. We searched on an international database to see if we could find out exactly who the poor woman is. Her father must have come from somewhere and Brumpton back then was such a tightly knit society that if he was local there would have been talk. A great deal of talk, I imagine.

“Anyway, there was a remote chance that there might be blood relatives that gave us a clue as to her parentage. We were pretty sure that her mother was Ada Winterbotham, but there was no clue anywhere as to who her father might have been. And much to our surprise our search hit a nerve in Germany. In fact it seemed that Winifred Winterboham has a half brother who was in the German police force until he retired at a really high rank.”

“Really, sir?”

“Really, Constable. It’s wonderful what we can learn from DNA.”

“Of course sir.”

“Well to continue. When the escaping pilot left Germany he was in a relationship with a woman, Hannah Müller was her name, who, possibly unknown to him, was pregnant when he left Germany. They musy have got up to some hi-jinks before they were forced to separate.”

“Hi-jinks? That’s quite a story sir.”

“Well, there’s more, Constable. The woman Hannah Müller had s son, and it is that son who became a respected police officer, now in his later years, who wishes to meet with a woman he never heard of until this week, his half sister, same father, different mothers, and that half sister is Winifred Winterbotham!”

“I see, sir,” Constable Felicia murmured, though in all truth she didn’t see. What had a German retired policeman have to do with her? She couldn’t see a connection.

“Then you’ll be happy to do it, Constable?” asked the Superintendent without explaining what it might be.

“It, sir?” queried a frowning young Constable.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t explain very well. It seems that Herman Schmidt is in his late seventies and wishes to meet a woman who he is related to, Winifred Winterbotham. He is flying from Germany this afternoon and landing at Brumpton aerodrome around four pm, and we thought it would be only right for us to send a small party to meet and greet him and help him on his way to his hotel, from where he might get a chance to meet Winifred, when she’s out of hospital. She cut her hand rather badly, you know, and they kept her in over night because, well, she didn’t seem to understand what was going on. Probably the shock.”

“She wouldn’t understand, sir. Her life has been sort of very minimised, living in that old cottage and hardly ever communicating with anyone. She still lives in fear of being bustled off by the Nazis, sir. So I believe, sir.”

“You are au fait with the situation Constable.”

“So where do I fit in, sir?” she asked.

“Ah. I should have made myelf clearer. The Chief Constable suggests you might make up the small party to meet and greet him, seeing as you have a little German…”

It’s more than a little… “Of course, sir...”

“Anyway that’s it. Well done, Constable. This will go well for you in the future…”

Meanwhile, Anthony and Emma had sought refuge in Emma’s home because there had been a teacher’s strike and his own home was out of the question. In his mind it was nowhere near good enough for a lovely girl like Emma to enjoy being in, and anyway anything he chose to do was subject to interruption from any combination of his siblings who were always curious about his friendship with Emma.

“Just going upstairs, mum,” said the girl, hanging her school coat on a hook

“What are you planning to do, dear?” asked her mother, already becoming suspicious that her daughter, almost sixteen, might think herself old enough for all kinds of adult activities. And she knew one thing for certain. Emma had managed to find a source of contraceptive pills. Just in case, she had said with an innocent smile, and failed to answer the question just in case of what?

“Oh, this and that, mum,” she replied.

And by the time her mother could think of a suitable follow-up question the two were in Emma’s room and her laptop was being switched on.

“What’s that for?” asked Anthony, who was beginning to think that being alone with Emma was quite enough for what his hormones had in mind.

“It’s what Billy told me…” replied Emma.

“You’ve seen Billy, the copper and all-round lover of the widow Cinders? And all on your own, without a chaperone?” grinned Anthony.

“Don’t be silly! But he told me about the Kraut.”

“The Kraut? What Kraut and anyway, what’s a Kraut when he’s at home?”

“A German. That’s what they’re sometimes known as, though I don’t think they like it. It’s like calling French people frogs!”

“I don’t like name-calling. It’s not necessary and its not nice,” said Anthony adopting a prudish attitude, “what else did Billy tell you?”

“That the old woman from the cottage, Winifred if you don’t like name-calling, has a brother.”

“She has? Where does he hang out? I’ve never heard of him.”

“Apparently he hangs out in Germany because he’s a German, and he’s older than Winifred, which makes him very ancient indeed!”