Sea Gem, page 41
Amelia grinned at him, her heart lighter. What a wonderful start to 1945.
Mary picked up the packet of tea. ‘I’m going up to the house,’ she told them. ‘I know they are all now worried sick about the huge raids on Germany and their families. They are all frightened of what’s going to happen to them too.’
Amelia lifted her head and a reserve of tartness flashed. ‘In that case, they shouldn’t invade people’s islands!’
Raoul flashed a look at Mary and she took the hint, slipping out of the door before Amelia could change her mind about the small packet of tea. The last thing she could bear was a row between the three of them.
Mary went into her home, entering the lounge that the officers used. The four of them sprang to their feet at her arrival.
‘We’ve just collected our food parcels,’ she began quietly. ‘You shared your coffee with us when we had none. Here is a packet of tea for you.’
She thrust the packet into the hands of the oldest man, who must have been of her own age. He took the packet with wonder, his face creasing into great pleasure while the other officers looked from the tea, to the Frau and back to the tea again. One licked his lips with anticipation.
‘Vielen dank, meine frau!’
They then stood, all slightly embarrassed, uncertain what to do or say next. Mary knew it was up to her to break this awkward impasse.
‘Don’t forget to warm the pot properly first and make sure the water is really boiling!’ she told them, then turned, trotted up the stairs and locked herself in her room to burst into wild tears of longing, sadness and sheer exhilarating hope.
Relief charged her batteries. Margaret was safe and well and would be coming home later this year. The war was ending slowly but what would she now be like? She had been away five whole years and had left as a young girl. Now she would be a mature woman, one who had been through a different kind of war with the pain and anguish of being separated from her love.
Her thoughts switched to Victor and she smiled tenderly to herself. He had survived so far. Unlike poor James, he had shown himself to her sound of wind and limb. Pray God he continued with such luck. It occurred to her that he too might have stories he would never relate; bringing them out into the open would only cause pain. There were going to be many like her who would only wish to forget, to put it all behind them and start again.
She examined her true feelings. He still had that magic charisma for her which she knew no other man would ever produce. He was still married though, so where did that leave both of them? Mary had a shrewd idea that the long war would have changed standards.
She would live each day as it came and play it all by ear but, after being alone for so long, the thought of lying in his arms at night was touchingly painful. They were both in their forties and with good health, they could live for many years yet. She took a deep breath, her smile crinkling her lips, throwing light on her thin face as she pictured life with him.
* * *
The island throbbed with expectation as the Allies crossed onto German soil and it was a harrowing time for the occupiers. With the food parcels and the rations brought by the Red Cross ships, the islanders began to flesh out again.
The Jerrybags trembled, knowing full well how their fellow islanders might turn upon them once German protection vanished. The informers were petrified. They wanted to go but were trapped like everyone else. Many talked of selling up and migrating to make a fresh life. Once the liberation came, there would be scores to settle and fear filled the air to intermingle with hope.
For the Germans it was now their bad time. They suffered. They had no food parcels and it was they who became gaunt shadows but their discipline held firm. Not one German soldier stole an islander’s food parcel. What crime there was over the parcels, including two terrible murders of an old couple, were the work of islanders. The Germans were apprehensive about their fate under the Allies but, most of all, they were worried to distraction at what was happening in Germany. As the weeks passed, the Allied Armies advanced and many of the islanders found compassion in themselves for the German troops especially the young raw recruits who had come to the island and been trapped. It was pointless to carry out a vendetta against these losers.
Through the early months of 1945 the tension rose with each month, then week. Rumour and gossip sped hot-foot all over the island and, in May, it peaked when it was known that HMS Bulldog, escorted by the destroyer Beagle had liaised with a German ship.
Now that she was stronger, Mary went into the shop once a week. There were some goods they could sell but mostly she went to get the current news, to chat to Alice, to talk with Emil and to prepare for the Great Day.
On one morning as she walked the last few yards she grinned to see Union and Guernsey flags already sprouting patriotically despite the fact they were still occupied. The few Germans she saw discreetly looked the other way so Mary marched into her shop briskly.
‘Alice!’ she cried. ‘We have a Union flag somewhere! Get it out and fly it high!’
The girl blinked at Mary’s stern tone of voice. ‘The Germans?’ she questioned nervously.
‘Damn them!’ Mary snorted. ‘We’re not going to be the one place without a welcome to the Tommies!’
Alice hurried to the back room and found the flag, which had been folded, wrapped up and hidden from alien eyes. She emerged, red-faced but triumphant, holding it in her hand. Mary grabbed it, then ran up to her flat. It was a long time now since she had spent time in it and there was a coating of dust everywhere. This she ignored, flung open a window with a bang then, leaning out, fixed her flag to a short pole that had once been part of the wireless aerial. The flag hung limp for a moment, almost as if shocked from its sleep, then came a puff of wind and the Union flag stirred and waved. A few passers-by below caught the flash of moving red, white and blue and stopped to cheer approval. Mary heard the doorbell ting but ignored it as she leaned out, grinning wildly, feeling as mad and crazy as a young girl. This was what victory and liberation felt like! It was—wonderful!
‘Madam!’ Alice called up to her. ‘There’s a woman wants to see you!’
Mary grunted, not really wanting to leave this delightful perch of triumph but she withdrew, shut the window and trudged downstairs. She looked over at the woman and scowled.
‘Yes?’ she snapped harshly.
Alice was startled, looking from one to the other she sensed something hostile. It was a long time since she had seen Madam wearing that cold mask and she hastily left the shop, tactfully retreating to the back room with a long handled brush.
‘Oh Mary! Please don’t you turn against me now!’ Gwen Falla pleaded, wringing her hands, her face frightened and harrowed.
‘What do you want?’ Mary snapped not making any attempt to help her though she was taken aback at Gwen’s appearance. There was an ugly bruise on her face and the woman was haggard, thin and unkept. She should not look like this. They should have received food parcels like the rest of them.
‘It’s Ray. He’s hurt. He’s been beaten up!’ Gwen told her breaking into gasping sobs. ‘Please help him!’
Mary’s lips set tight as mind and heart wrestled with each other. Sight of Gwen automatically brought back a vision of William as he lay dying; a memory she was trying to stamp to the dark recesses of her mind. She thought of Raoul—what would he do? He was not a vindictive man, but the Fallas had behaved deplorably and, Mary argued with her usual innate honesty, wasn’t she just a little to blame? She had neglected the glasshouses at a crucial period. If she had supervised more efficiently, perhaps the Fallas would not have yielded to temptation or William’s obvious blandishments and it was she who had produced William.
‘Where is he?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘Round the back,’ Gwen whispered. ‘I managed to get him up the track without being seen.’
Mary spun on her heel and shot through the back room making Alice halt with astonishment. She threw open the door and stopped dead with shock. Raymond Falla leaned against the jamb, blood streaming down his face. His lips were puffed, some front teeth were missing and he had a rapidly swelling left eye. He was pitifully thin and looked like an old man.
‘In!’ Mary barked unceremoniously. ‘Alice! Get some hot water if you can. Gwen, get him sat down on that crate while I try and find some gauze.’
Mary rummaged around and found two clean rags and handed one to Gwen. Together they started to staunch the blood, dabbing, patting and wiping. Alice returned with some warmed water, which, luckily, she had been able to heat as there had been some electricity on. Just then the bell tinged again, making Mary mutter under her breath. Alice disappeared then came back eyes alight.
‘It’s Inspector le Norman,’ she whispered to Mary. Gwen caught the words and went even whiter.
‘Carry on cleaning him up so we can see the real damage,’ Mary told Gwen, then went into the shop, carefully shutting the storeroom door behind her. ‘Emil!’ she said smiling. She was always so pleased to see him. It had been wonderful to bring him up to date with the news of his friends and a rapport of genuine friendship now existed between the two of them.
‘Someone in there?’ Emil asked. Mary’s firm closing of the door had been a little too obvious.
‘The Fallas,’ Mary explained briskly. ‘He’s been badly beaten up and Gwen has been manhandled too. He needs a doctor.’
Emil sniffed, a malicious gleam showing in his eyes. ‘What did they expect?’ he asked in a low voice. ‘They’ve been living with a roughish crowd who run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. Of course he’s been done over. He was a profiteer and it flashed around the place his family had turned him out. You know what people are like!’
Mary knew what he said was only too true. ‘I have a feeling they might just have paid for what they did,’ she said slowly, frowning a little. ‘And anyhow, they are family and I can’t stand by and see murder done. Can you help me get them to Cobo? Their old cottage is still vacant. The Germans never took it and I think I might be able to smooth Raoul over. I don’t know about Amelia though,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘but it would be a refuge for them until they get off the island. They can’t stay here, that’s for sure. They’ll be damned for all time because people have long memories.’
Emil agreed with this sentiment. ‘I’ll get them driven over in something. I’m in a position to lean heavily on the Germans now and they still have a tiny drop of petrol left. It’s time it was used for an islander!’ He grinned at her. ‘I had a feeling you’d be around, then when I saw the flag—’ He grinned, flashing his teeth, his eyes sparkling. ‘I thought you’d like to lock up shop and the pair of you go down to the harbour. Within the next hour the German flag comes down and the Union and Guernsey flags go up officially. We will be—free!’
‘Oh Emil!’ Mary gasped, clasping her hands before her breasts in an instinctive emotional gesture.
‘Shut up. You and Alice go there. Leave the Fallas to me. I’ll join in the celebration later because, as you say, there’ll be no murder on my patch!’
Mary shouted for Alice, gabbled the news and, clutching the girl’s hand, dragged her outside. She saw they were just a small part of an ever-growing throng of excited people. She grinned at Alice. It still never ceased to amaze Mary exactly how news managed to fly around the island.
‘Come on!’ she cried. ‘We mustn’t miss anything!’
Down at the harbour was a throbbing crowd of wildly excited people. Mary wished Raoul and Amelia were here too, then, turning, she saw them. She was astounded. How had they known? More to the point, how had they managed to get here so quickly? Then she chuckled. Someone would have told them and brought them on a cart pulled by a surviving, uneaten horse. She screamed at them and, even above the din, Raoul heard her and waved violently, grinning from ear to ear. Goodness, Mary thought, I hope we don’t have any real thieves left here. Every home on Guernsey must have been left vacant to witness this historic occasion.
They watched as a German soldier hauled down the hated flag then slowly hauled up the two flags. Spontaneously the crowd broke into a roar of mad approval as people jostled each other, slapped shoulders, hugged, kissed and went wild as the first Tommies landed on Guernsey.
‘We are free!’ Mary screamed to Alice, almost beside herself with joy as tears streamed down her face. Five long, awful years could now become history.
‘Free!’ Alice choked and sobbed desperately with happiness.
‘God save the Duke of Normandy!’ someone bellowed.
Voices broke into the national anthem as the German soldiers gloomily stood back, eyeing their officers apprehensively. Would these islanders now turn on them? But they were safe. The people were too madly happy, all they wanted to do was mob the Tommies, hoist them high, parade them around, talk, shout and bellow their delirium of wonderful happiness.
How long they were part of the crowd Mary never afterwards knew. Finally she edged herself and Alice free, shaken and exhausted by it all but beaming at each other. Some words floated into Mary’s mind. Who was it who had said that a person could not appreciate true happiness until he had tasted the depths of despair? For the first time, she understood the meaning.
‘Go on home,’ she told the girl. ‘Go and celebrate with your young man!’
‘The shop?’ Alice asked conscientiously.
‘Le Norman will lock up. No one is going to be interested in anything so mundane as shopping today. We will all start afresh later on this week. Let’s just enjoy our freedom. Because by God, we’ve more than earned it.’
She pushed Alice away, then standing on tiptoes strained to spot Raoul. Finally, she began to push towards where he had been when suddenly she bumped into him, he towed Amelia by one large hand. He slapped her back then kissed her lustily and she flung herself into his arms, hugging Amelia next. She turned back to Raoul and whispered in his ear.
‘We have trouble,’ she hissed knowing Amelia’s sharp ears. ‘The Fallas are in the shop in a bad way. Emil le Norman is getting them back to that old cottage of theirs. They need a doctor. Raymond has been thoroughly beaten and Gwen has been knocked about.
Raoul scowled. Much as he hated what the couple had done, Gwen was his sister and no man should ever hit a woman. But which way would Amelia jump? The tough side to her character which had displayed since the episode over tea made him wary.
‘Let’s go back to Cobo,’ he said to Mary.
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Amelia shouted, struggling to make herself heard over the boisterous hubbub. Mary led them aside, waiting a little impatiently for Amelia to catch up then she told her.
‘Well?’
Amelia looked at her then Raoul and finally gave a little shrug. ‘Look after them if you like,’ she agreed slowly, ‘but don’t expect me to like it!’
Mary let out her breath and smiled. That was another little hurdle successfully jumped. She flashed a look at Raoul who beamed at his wife, Gwen wasn’t bad, she had perhaps been weak, unable to stand up to Raymond and, Mary reminded herself, she had been glad of Raymond’s help on that day when Duret had tried to kill her.
They returned home, walking quite easily now but taking their time, chatting gently, almost at peace with the world. To accomplish this they wanted their families to be completed.
* * *
The Ozanne boys came home first. Luck had been on their side because although they had both received minor wounds, they were not in any way incapacitated. Their leave was a delirious time for everyone during which Mary and Amelia started upon the task of turning the house back into a home once more. The officers were now prisoners of war and Mary realised she had been fortunate. Damage was minimal though the furnishings and curtains were shabby. In due course they would all have to be replaced and suddenly Mary realised she had money gaining interest on the mainland. Exactly how much she was worth she simply had no idea but it would be needed. Once Europe could return to normality people would start to think of holidays again and her cottages would be in a deplorable condition after five years of occupation by troops and TODT slaves.
Her heart ached for Margaret to return and, to stop herself brooding, she and Raoul began to make plans for the inspection of each and every property. Mary wondered how Victor’s hotels had fared. They had, so she gathered, had officers in them but would no doubt have been stripped bare of anything of value.
One afternoon, when it was hot and she had taken herself outside with a sheaf of pencilled notes, she tried to concentrate but could not. She felt almost relaxed, clean after a warm bath and she had managed to buy some fresh clothes, when some had appeared in the shops. They were not good ones but they were new and different.
She sat on a cane chair, face up to the sun, eyes closed, half thinking and half day-dreaming so she never heard the footsteps on the grass. Her eyes felt weary as the sun drew out the years of fatigue and Mary was in that delicious half-awake, half-asleep state of quiet euphoria.
Margaret stood looking down at her, shocked to the core. Although Victor had been to see her and warned her, she had not expected this. Her mother’s hair was heavily shot with silver. Her face had crinkles around the eyes which, although she was putting on weight, would not disappear until she had gained at least another stone in weight. Her skin was dull and Margaret remembered how it had always glowed with health and vitality. She swallowed, trying to shift the lump in her throat and, with a finger at her lips, sent a silent message to the person behind her.
‘Mother,’ she whispered, squatting on her heels.
Mary’s eyes opened suddenly and fell on the face of a young, not quite beautiful woman but one who was strong, fine and lovely to look at. Her lips parted, her face crinkled and tears sprang to her eyes as she held out her arms.
