Extracts from Jane

"Something Different..."

p16-p17

"However as he walked down the steps along the corridor of the lower deck, flight Lieutenant Diamond did wish, like many young men he had known, he could have socialised with such a fellow. It didn't mean he had to give anything away even if his conversationalist had been the enemy he thought. But he could not do so especially to a stranger of whom he knew nothing, be he pro-British or otherwise.

He had sat down on his bunk still clutching the briefcase only to leave it there to be stolen. He should have locked the cabin door or taken the briefcase with him but it was useless, to close the stable door after the horse had bolted. Stroppelhein must have been the culprit perhaps having followed after lacing his sherry with some kind of laxative and been successful in taking the briefcase at the first available opportunity. Yet the suspect was travelling tourist class and could not have crossed the ropes across the chairs separating them. there was only one other first class passenger, an old lady, in a cabin opposite him to whom he had seldom spoken other than when greeting her and he could not for one moment imagine her to have stolen from him.

There was nothing to fear. Stroppelhein would be easy to trace. He would return on deck and start his investigation at once. For the first time since the crisis he was feeling more confident, and was convinced he was exaggerating the consequences of his negligence. Indeed, the joyful singing throb from the Tree Pipits engines being the last of Consolidated Eagle Company's vessels to convert from coal to oil even if it straggled a little in the convoy, and possibly might not reach Cape Town for at least four weeks, suggested this new found bliss for the future.

Oblivious of the fact that earlier in the afternoon a Fokker Wolfe observational plane had been trailing the convoy, he got up to go on deck but after reaching the door he heard a thud in the bowels of the ship. Instantly the walls, ceiling and door collapsed bringing in torrents of water and for a few seconds whilst looking round amongst the splintered fractures and hearing the screams from above and below he believed the U-boat, having missed one of numerous military targets in the convoy, had attacked them instead. It was a tragic mistake for the enemy believed Tree Pipit was carrying troops, according to the authorities, it was a wasted effort since, as far as they knew, he was the only military man aboard the ship.

Engulfed by two broken steel pillars, he was pulled under by the current and in descending some depth, he probably noticed the body of the old lady flowing past him. Her head was half-uncovered by the grey wig and shawl she had always worn for disguise and beneath the remnants, the face of a much younger woman with long, fair hair could have been seen. Another mighty deluge forced him down further, and struggling and gasping for air, he plunged down with the wreckage as if to reach the ocean bed."

p30-p31

"The next day denied most of the jobs she had wished to complete. During the night there had been a violent snow storm of such magnitude that the whole garden and hedges were mantled in drifts six feet deep or more. Even roof tops, trees, barns and hayricks were blanketed in a dazzling whiteness. Jane having difficulty, as with her shoulders, she pushed open the kitchen door that was barricaded with snow, tried to make out the contours of the path to the orchard and fields that were lost in an avalanche. At least it was warmer. The sun no longer struggled to break through. There it was high above as, with shovels and brooms, children started clearing a way to reach the animals in the fields beyond.

A solitary chaffinch, in sprightly, dark pink plumage tried forcing its beak into the crispy snow mounds whilst a bedraggled female blackbird on the same ground, thrust its whole body forward for warmth, also ever-hopeful some tit-bit might come its way. High above from fleecy clouds past tyhe church tower, the cobbled square, the orchard and ricks, an aircraft rumbled. Jane looked up. It was a Heinkel 17 plunging down towards the pinewoods growing on the crags above the ice-clogged waterfalls of the river. A huge plume of smoke came from its tail from which three airman jumped out, their white parachutes glittering in the sunshine and unfurling away from the river towards the depths of distant moorland. The plane zooming and roaring, barely skirted the river until crashing amongst tres in Jane's orchard. A terrific explosion from a bomb still in the plane seemed to reverberate across the whole landscape causing the cottage walls to collapse whilst Jane herself, from the blast was blown many yards forward, fortunately landing in the deep snow covering the garden wall and only grazing herself a little on the ledges.

Shortly afterwards she got up shaking the snow from her coat and having said quite aloud, "How lucky I am not to have the slightest injury!" she suddenly realised her voice had returned and she could use both hands as freely as she could the previous year. Overjoyed, she ran out amongst the fallen trees hoping she might be able to rescue someone. A deep crater fuming with smoke, flanked by broken wreckage of splintered wings and exploded fuselage, with a metal blackcross plate flung into the branches of a leaning tree, sizzled and hissed in the devastated orchard. She looked amongst the scattered engine pieces and there, under part of a propeller blade, coverede by the trunk of a collapsed apple tree, she saw one of the crew lying face down in red patches of snow. He had a scar at the back of his neck barely hidden by the helmet and leather jacket he was still wearing and he seemed to be speaking to her."

p68-p69

"A slight problem arose. How could she speak to the driver without Richard, who was hardly a few feet away, hearing her?

Without speaking, she ignored the driver and rushing past him, a passenger who was paying and Richard, she seated herself at the back of the bus, in the hope of concealment from the person she never wished to see again. The bus was almost full. Three children were standing in the aisle which should prove helpful if her husband were to turn round. The only difficulty was the driver might shout at once asking her to pay the fare. On the other hand she earnestly hoped it might be possible to pay at the destination of Cainville, after her husband had alighted. Then to her relief, the driver, without saying anything, hurriedly started up the engine as he must have been behind schedule.

After a five mile journey, at break-neck speed, with the bus swerving dangerously round mountain bends, eventually it stopped at the Eagle Hotel nestling in a green pasture that, in places, was still covered in snow. jane had not expected this stop. Nobody got on or off and the driver, seizing the opportunity to speak to the lady who had not yet paid her fare, shouted out for everyone to hear. "Can you pay now please, Miss?"

Her husband put down his paper. Fortunately only a slight movement of the body was made, yet enough for him to sit rigidly to attention as if he meant to follow fully this incident. Jane, in complete silence, held up a note more than sufficient for the fare, and handing it to a man in a seat opposite, whispered so that nobody could have heard especially as the engine was still rumbling."