“Didn’t sleep a wink last night,” Violet declared the next morning when Elizabeth walked into the kitchen. “What with that German bomber pilot on the loose somewhere and Martin’s ghost, I was afraid to shut my eyes.”

“What ghost?” Polly demanded, withdrawing her head from the broom closet.

Violet made a sound of disgust. “Mind your manners, Polly. Say good morning to madam.”

Polly gave Elizabeth a cheeky grin. “Oops, sorry. Morning, m’m.”

Elizabeth returned the greeting. “I wouldn’t pay too much attention to Martin. You know how he is.” She accepted the cup of tea Violet handed her and sat down at the table.

“He did seem really upset, all the same.” Violet turned back to the stove. “Even for him.”

“He probably saw one of the Yanks wandering around,” Polly said, hauling her bucket and mop over to the door. “Though I haven’t seem much of them since they’ve been here.”

She disappeared, and Violet shook her head. “Thank Gawd for that. I don’t trust them Yanks. Nor Polly for that matter.”

Martin had placed the weekly local newspaper next to Elizabeth’s table mat, and she picked it up. “You worry too much Violet,” she murmured.

“Someone around here has to,” Violet muttered darkly.

Elizabeth stopped listening to her, her attention caught by the thick black headlines stamped across the front page. German Pilot Escapes! they screamed, and in smaller letters, Dangerous Enemy on the Loose in Hawthorn Woods!

According to the news report, soldiers from the camp in nearby Beerstowe had joined the local constabulary in a manhunt, and residents of the village were warned to stay away from the woods, where the pilot was suspected of having gone to ground.