The woman nodded and hastily retreated back up the stairs. It wasn’t wise to leave the trapdoor open for long.

Holly and Richard tucked into the food and drank the steaming hot tea with little said between them. They were still uncomfortable in each other’s company but when they had finished he told her, ‘Now it’s your turn to get some sleep. I’ll check and see if the infection looks any better.’

She needed no second telling and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow with no idea whatsoever that Richard was watching her while his heart broke afresh. He had been so sure that she loved him as much as he loved her but she had dropped him like a hot potato and every time he remembered, it hurt bitterly. Still, he scolded himself, this wasn’t the time or place to be thinking of his own feelings. He needed to concentrate on the airman. Throughout the next couple of hours as Holly slept he constantly washed the wound with disinfectant, but it still looked angry and sore and Richard grew increasingly concerned. There was a vicious red line running from the wound up the airman’s leg above the knee now, which told him one thing. If he was to save the chap’s life he was going to have to amputate whether he liked it or not.

Francine brought them down a pot of coffee and home-made scones thick with jam and butter mid-morning and although he hated having to do it he nudged Holly awake.

‘I’m sorry, but I need you to tell Francine to ask her father if he could go to the hospital to get the tools I shall need to do an amputation,’ he explained solemnly.

Holly stirred, then taking in his words, quickly told Francine what he had said. Not understanding a word they were saying, Richard grew increasingly frustrated as he listened to them both jabbering away in French but at last Holly told him, ‘Unfortunately, her father is out delivering supplies to the Germans. Because he supplies them they turn a blind eye to him also supplying the hospital.’

‘And how long will he be?’

Francine informed them that he would be home possibly mid-afternoon but Richard realised that they may not be able to wait that long. Every second counted now if they were to save the airman’s life.

‘Tell her I need the sharpest, biggest knife they’ve got and some whisky or brandy,’ he said grimly.

Holly quickly relayed what he had said and Francine hurried away to get the things he had asked for. She was back within minutes with a half-bottle of brandy and the biggest, most terrifying-looking knife that Holly had ever seen. Richard immediately began to undo the bindings on the airman’s leg and soak yet another rag in chloro-form. Realising what he was about to do Francine scuttled away like a frightened rabbit, closing the trapdoor behind her with a bang.

‘This is not going to be nice. Are you sure you’re up to it?’