Sea Gem (39 page)

‘As you say, Madam,’ he muttered, then deliberately turned away from her to carry on working.

Later that night she spoke to William again as they ate their supper in a stiff silence. Mary had been prepared to find him in a mood but William had turned over her comments during a long walk
that day and had reached a conclusion. Much as it galled him, he had to admit his mother was still the boss but, he had told himself, that had to change when the Germans came. So in the meanwhile
he would play along with her and be agreeable.

‘You’ll have to work with Raymond in the glasshouses. We all will, come to that,’ she told him and waited for him to become difficult.

‘That’s all right with me. I want something to do,’ he replied and meant it. Long walks were all very well now and again and if he showed the Germans hard work did not frighten
him, that had to impress them.

Mary was startled, eyed her son dubiously but decided not to reveal her caution. Her sole weapon against William was her enigmatic exterior.

‘You go along then tomorrow and start at whatever Raymond says.’

‘Fine,’ he agreed pleasantly.

Mary left him, frowning a little. Now what was he up to and, more to the point, why? She spent some time on the telephone trying to find out what might be going to happen and learned the Rev
John Leale had declared there could be no resistance against an occupying force. There was nowhere for guerrillas to hide and retribution would be simple to administer to the remaining population.
As Leale was a senior and well trusted member of the States of Deliberation, as well as on the Controlling Committee of the eight men who would handle Guernsey, she had to believe him.

* * *

There came an uneasy lull on the island as it tried to shake itself back into normality with so many of its inhabitants gone. Mary shut one shop but reopened the first one,
which had the living accommodation overhead. She engaged Alice Cantan as the shop girl in place of the previous employee who had left for Britain for the women’s services. She was only
sixteen but Alice was already proving useful and handled customers well. Mary had high hopes for her.

On Friday the 28th June, Mary locked up the shop ready to see Alice away. It was a pleasant, sunny day and on an impulse she decided to drive into town to gather the latest news. She parked
slightly back from the harbour, then strolled around in an aimless manner. She missed Margaret so badly it was like a physical hurt. She had never felt like this when she was at school because an
ending had always been in sight. Now the future was impossible to assess. She missed Victor too and Tante and her heart ached with anguish for the three of them as her feet led her down towards the
harbour. It appeared to be back to normality with lorries lined up in an orderly fashion, all loaded with boxes of packed tomatoes ready for the mainland. Shipping would now be scarce although
there was a vessel tied up which had just brought men and cattle over from deserted Alderney.

Mary stood and watched, listening to the lowing of the cattle when, from out of the clear sky, German planes screamed in from nowhere. She flung herself flat against a low wall as bombs fell
with appalling noise. Machine guns roared and, in seconds, there was pandemonium. From her prone position Mary stared in horror. Some of the drivers had dived under their vehicles but some lorries
were hit. Petrol tanks exploded with men incinerated in agony. Tomato boxes were spilled, smashed on the cobbles and, in seconds, tomato juice flooded everywhere mixing with human blood. It made a
macabre picture.

The cattle from Alderney went into a wild panic, breaking loose, kicking and bellowing their fear, plunging through the squashed tomatoes. She could hear firing from elsewhere and it flashed
through her mind that Guernsey was under attack prior to an invasion.

As swiftly as they had arrived, the planes vanished and, slowly, Mary scrambled erect only to stand frozen at the carnage around the harbour, her legs trembling as she gazed wide eyed at the
dead and dying, lying amid tomato juice. She made herself move, as people rushed to help. Had Whitehall thought of this when they demilitarised Guernsey? All Guernsey had was one machine gun and
one Lewis gun against the Luftwaffe. Then it hit her. From which part of the island had the other firing come? Was it Cobo?

She turned and bolted for her car, flung herself in and savagely started the engine. She drove quickly, crashing her gears, then pulled herself together

Seeing a group of people shouting and gesticulating, she stopped, lowered her window and leaned out.

‘What is it?’

One old man turned to her, eyes wild with rage. ‘The German bastards have machine gunned people making hay in the fields!’

Another younger man hurried over, shaking one first impotently into the air. ‘They say the lifeboat has been machine gunned while at sea too!’

‘I’ve just come from the harbour!’ Mary told the growing crowd what she had seen.

The old man growled again. ‘The Boche don’t change!’ he spat venomously. ‘Swine like they were in the last war!’

‘What shall we all do, Missus?’ a woman asked, fear making her voice sound like a saw.

Mary turned to her quickly. ‘Go back to your homes where you’re under cover from anything but a direct hit. Keep near your radios so the Committee can tell us what to do,’ she
paused. ‘If any of you had family down at the harbour—it might be wise to make—enquiries,’ she said tactfully.

‘My Bert!’ one middle-aged woman suddenly shrieked.

‘And my George!’

‘Here!’ Mary snapped. ‘Get in my car and, you people, give me room to turn around. I’ll drive you down there.’

She drove back to the harbour, grim faced while the two distraught women sat trembling in the rear seats. As they neared people milled around in general confusion and shock. Many had brilliant
red arms but whether this was blood or tomato juice, Mary did not care to think.

‘I doubt I’ll get any nearer,’ she told the two women as she braked. ‘Shall I come with you both?’

‘No, Missus!’ they cried as one. ‘But God bless you for helping!’

Mary watched them struggling through the horde then turned around, her mind in a turmoil; glad that Margaret and Victor were safely off the island and that Tante had not lived to see this
day.

She drove back to Cobo safely and Raoul came running as she halted outside her home. Quickly she gave her story. He listened white-faced then shook his head.

‘News flies quickly. The coxswain’s son was killed in the lifeboat and the Germans also machine gunned a clearly marked ambulance. A patient’s been killed and an attendant
wounded.’

They looked at each other, lost for words at the devastation which had come from the blue sky. Raoul let fly a stream of oaths and Mary’s ears tingled. There was one word there she had
never heard before and she considered herself a woman of the world. Raoul turned back to her, wild eyed with savagery.

‘We must make German lives hell,’ he snarled.

Mary hesitated doubtfully. ‘That might be unwise,’ she reminded him slowly. ‘Think of the reprisals occupiers can take on us. Don’t think I’m ready to knuckle down
to Germans but we are so helpless here. We can do little against them—yet,’ she finished in a low voice.

Raoul’s eyes were hot opals. ‘I can’t stand by and do nothing,’ he barked back at her, showing an unusual ferocity that shook Mary. So Raoul had hidden depths too. Where
had the quiet man vanished who had worked for the family for years?

Mary touched his arm. ‘Be careful at all times, Raoul,’ she said quietly, ‘and do not trust my son. Also—’ she paused uneasily, not knowing why she felt a sudden
disquiet, ‘be wary of Raymond.’

Raoul’s eyes went narrow and hard. William—he could understand the need to watch but Raymond? His eyes reflected questions.

Mary picked her words with care. ‘I may be doing Raymond an injustice,’ she started slowly, ‘but something tells me that Raymond might be the kind to do business with the devil
for money. I’ve told William he’s to work out there too and I’m not so sure that was one of my better ideas but I don’t want William hanging around underfoot. He thinks
he’ll get translation work when the enemy come,’ she shrugged. ‘Perhaps he will but I want him to work in the glasshouses too where he is under my nose for at least part of the
time.’

Mary bit her lip with apprehension. Raymond and Raoul were brothers-in-law. Had she offended him? She waited nervously, watching various emotions cross Raoul’s rugged face.

‘You may be right,’ he said at last, nodding his head slowly. ‘You may just be right,’ he repeated more to himself than her. ‘I’ll watch the pair of
them.’ Then he glared at the empty sky. ‘At least my boys have gone over there to fight back.’

* * *

The next morning news flew around the island that twenty-nine people had died in the air attacks on Guernsey and nine on Jersey and the islanders’ resentment was
compounded by their inability to retaliate.

On Sunday morning, Mary mooned aimlessly around her empty house. William had gone off walking and both Raoul and Amelia were in their cottage. It was not as if she had chores to attend to but
her restlessness arose from the ominous waiting for the next move by the Germans. Margaret and Victor were constantly in her thoughts and tears hovered near the surface as worry grew and enlarged
with each hour. Suddenly at midday she heard a plane and flinched. Was this the preliminary to another air raid? She waited with growing apprehension for the sound of bombs then, unable to restrain
herself, hastily telephoned a contact in town.

When she had taken in the news she ran to where Raoul stood in his front garden. Amelia was with him, looking pale.

‘Raoul!’ she cried. ‘A German plane has landed at the airfield.’

He turned and grunted. ‘It’s the start then. They are on their way.’

‘I’m going to find out what I can!’ Mary gasped. Now was the time for her to start work. She eyed the car, then shook her head. She had little petrol left and she turned to her
cycle. She felt Raoul’s eyes on her as she pedalled down briskly, feeling the pull of muscles not used for a long time.

Then she was in the swing of it, moving with familiarity through the lanes she now knew so well, cutting through St Saviours. She appeared to be the only person in the world. The sun beamed down
and the countryside was calm and beautiful. She even felt hot in her sleeveless top and slacks with her old sandals on her feet, so she slowed to conserve energy. As she neared the airfield, she
parked her cycle around the back of a thin hedge then, snapping around to check she was unobserved, she padded forward. There was an ideal place between two thick bushes at the rear of which was a
young oak sapling. She squatted down, made herself comfortable and waited. There was soft hum of insects, two early butterflies and a rabbit who never caught her scent.

They came in the evening with deep, bellying growls. Four large German transport planes approached the airfield, terrifying the grazing cows and Mary watched them land to disgorge troops,
wishing she had small binoculars. Details were impossible at her distance but she was able to make a careful account of the men, then watch them drive away.

So, she thought, they have come. Our lives will alter and it won’t be for the better either. It was odd to see some drive away in taxis; obviously officers she told herself as she stood,
brushing some twigs from her trousers.

She was thoughtful as she pedalled back to Cobo and it was after tea by the time she had arrived. When she went into the kitchen she found William there. Amelia had left their tea and, as she
made a drink, she found William in a rare affable mood.

‘Do you have any money?’ she asked him.

Surprised, he dived into his trousers, pulling out a few coins. Mary opened her hip wallet and gave him five pounds.

‘Make it last,’ she warned. ‘There is no more from the banks. I expect the Germans will organise the money but, until they do, we will have to be careful.’

William was astonished but pleased. It made the perfect finale to a good day. He had spent a number of hours working with Raymond to his directions and learning at the same time. The man was no
fool and, William thought, hugging this titbit to himself, he might not be averse to his idea. Raymond had shown that, although he was the glasshouse expert, he was, at the same time, conscious his
assistant was the son of the boss and heir apparent. He had been deferential, and respectful which fed William’s ego beautifully.

Directly after this the Germans flooded the island. The local papers went under occupation supervision and one evening, with a grim face, Mary read the strong proclamation which had been signed
by Victor Carey, the Bailiff. It was obviously a direct order and poor Mr Carey had been given no option but to append his signature.

From now on they were under curfew from eleven o’clock at night until six in the morning. There were dire threats about any possible acts of sabotage or civilian resistance; all firearms
of any kind and other weapons must be delivered to the Royal Hotel by noon of the next day. Mary sniffed at that in Tante’s best fashion. No boat could leave the harbour without permission
and no cars could be used. Blackout curtains had to go up forthwith and all the food was to be requisitioned, especially meat.

Her thoughts reverted to Margaret and Victor. Where were they? When could she hope to hear from them and how could a letter reach her? Suddenly terrible loneliness swept through her. If only she
could lean her head on Victor’s chest and feel him run his fingers through her hair before they slid down her cheeks and neck to fondle her breasts. She gave herself a hard shake.

Later that day she took all her accounts and business papers to the shop and prepared to take up late lodgings in the flat although allowing herself time to get home before curfew. It crossed
her mind to wonder about Alice. She was such a quiet, almost mousy girl but any girl’s head could be turned by the sight of soldiers in uniform and she knew these island occupiers would,
initially at least, be the cream of German manhood.