We'll Meet Again (17 page)

Meg met his gaze squarely. Suddenly she was calm and cool as if her veins pulsed with iced water instead of blood. ‘That is my brother, David. He is unfit for military service.

‘Hmmn.’ Jaeger tapped his forefinger on his chin. ‘He looked healthy enough to me.’

‘David had rheumatic fever when he was a child,’ Meg said, improvising. ‘He has a heart condition.’

‘Nevertheless, he will be expected to work. Your land must be cultivated to feed my men. I shall speak to your father.’

‘You’ll find that I know more about running the estate,’ Meg said, drawing herself up to her full height. ‘My father has enough to do without worrying about the farm.’

‘Then tomorrow you will accompany me on an inspection of your land, and I will tell you what to do.’

Meg met his gaze stare for stare, drawing on the stubborn streak that had often got her into trouble when she was younger. She was determined not to let him see that deep down she was shaken and terrified. After all he was just a man, a grey ghost of a man, she thought, with his close-cropped hair and his slate-coloured eyes that seemed to reflect the exact shade of his uniform. But to be fair, he had shown some slight consideration towards them and for that she was grateful.

Major Jaeger’s stern features relaxed for a brief moment into what was almost a smile and then he turned and walked away. As the drawing room doors closed behind him Meg realised with a start that she had begun to attribute human qualities to the invaders. She must be mad to imagine that a
German would show compassion for their captives. They were the enemy. She made up her mind to hate them all.

The family ate their dinner late that evening, Marie having had to wait until Corporal Klein had vacated the kitchen before she could commence her own preparations. Gerald had discovered Pip hiding in his makeshift workshop above the tack room, and having enlisted his somewhat unwilling help they had carried the old nursery table downstairs to the morning parlour. It was a far cry from the elegant dining room where Hauptmann Dressler and his officers ate their meal off the best Wedgwood dinner service. Captain Grulich had demanded the keys to the wine cellar, and Meg had been forced to stand by helplessly as her father’s carefully laid down vintage claret was brought up to complement the Hauptmann’s meal.

After supper, Charles called for quiet. ‘We must all be extremely careful and remember that these men literally have the power of life and death over us. One false move and they can order deportation or any other punishment they choose.’

‘They frighten me,’ Jane said, with a theatrical shudder. ‘I shall sleep with my door locked and a chair pushed against it too.’

‘Wishful thinking,’ Meg whispered, grinning at Gerald.

Maud shot a warning glance at her as she leaned
across the table to pat Jane’s hand. ‘I shall never sleep again, not while the enemy is under our roof.’

‘Then I’m afraid you’re going to get very tired, Maud,’ Charles said drily.

‘Surely it will all be over by Christmas?’ Bertrand gazed regretfully at his empty wineglass. They had drunk the last of the cooking wine that Marie had hidden in a sack of potatoes.

‘We can but hope.’ Charles raised himself from one of the bentwood chairs that Gerald had found in the attic. ‘And now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m going to bed.’

‘I’m not going upstairs on my own with that man standing by the front door,’ Jane muttered, rolling her eyes.

‘I’m afraid you don’t have much choice,’ Meg said, making an effort to sound sympathetic. ‘If you’re scared then perhaps Pip ought to go upstairs with you.’

‘We’ll all go up together,’ Bertrand said, rising slowly to his feet. ‘Come along, Maud. We’ll go first. The brutes won’t attack an elderly gentleman and his lady. Jane, you and Pip follow on behind.’ He slipped Maud’s hand through the crook of his arm and led them out into the hallway.

Jane seized Pip by the hand. ‘Come along, my precious. Mother won’t let those beastly Germans hurt her boy.’

Marie had been quietly clearing the table and she picked up the tray of dirty dishes. ‘I’ll just see to
these, if that oaf’s finished with my kitchen for the night, and then I’m going to my room.’

Gerald stood up to open the door for her. He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodnight, Mother. Leave the dishes. I’ll do them later.’

‘I won’t say no. Thanks, love.’ She gave him a tired smile as she left the room.

They were now alone except for Buster. He had been sleeping quietly on the rug by the fire but he leapt up suddenly, wagging his tail and looking expectantly at Meg.

‘Poor old boy,’ she said, leaning down to pat his head. ‘I should have taken you for a walk earlier. I’m afraid you’ve had it until morning now.’ She stood up and stretched. ‘I think I’ll turn in too. It’s been a long day.’

Gerald reached out and caught her by the hand, pulling her down onto his lap. ‘I thought they’d never give us a moment alone.’

‘Are you mad?’ She leapt to her feet. ‘We’re supposed to be brother and sister. You’d better start acting like it or we’re all in trouble.’

‘I’m going crazy living close to you like this but not allowed to touch you or tell you how I feel about you.’

‘You mustn’t talk like that, Gerald. We can’t afford to make mistakes.’

‘It’s not easy for me.’

His dark eyes were filled with pain and longing, but she knew she had to be strong for both of them.
‘You’ve got to let it go, Gerald. I don’t know how long the Germans are going to be here in this house, but the slightest slip could be fatal. You know it’s true.’

‘First I lose Dad and now you. Perhaps we could meet in secret.’

‘Absolutely not. It would be madness.’ The pleading look in his eyes made her feel guilty. She should never have allowed him to hope. ‘Please don’t look at me like that.’

‘Why not? Or are you sorry that you let me kiss you and make a fool of myself? Perhaps you’re glad that the Germans are here and you don’t have to pretend that you love me.’

She gazed at him in dismay. ‘Where is all this bitterness coming from? I never actually said I loved you. I said I didn’t know how I felt, and I suppose that’s still true.’

‘Admit it, Meg. You can’t allow yourself to have feelings for someone like me. That’s the truth of it, isn’t it?’

‘Why are you being like this? Haven’t we got enough to bear without you making things worse?’

He took a step towards her, hands outstretched. ‘I’m sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry, Meg. I’d no right to say that.’

‘No, you hadn’t, and anyway you’re wrong. I don’t see you as being any different from the rest of my family, but this has got to stop, Gerald.’

He bowed his head. ‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘You know I am. We’ve got to do what my father says and take one day at a time.’ She stroked Buster’s head as he licked her hand.

‘I didn’t intend to hurt you, but I meant what I said. I do love you.’

‘I believe you, Gerald. But I just don’t know how I feel about anything at the moment. It seems as though the whole world has gone mad and we’re caught up in the middle.’

‘I’d die for you, Meg.’

‘Don’t,’ she said, frowning. ‘You mustn’t even think like that now. Who knows what will happen in the future, but for the present we’re brother and sister, and if we don’t believe it then we can’t expect the Germans to believe it either.’

Overnight Colivet Manor changed from Meg’s dearly beloved home into a billet for German officers and a barracks for their subordinates. Military vehicles churned up the gravel drive and booted feet trampled the pleasure gardens, turning them into a sea of mud. Muriel’s scented shrubbery was dug over for latrines and the stable block and outbuildings were turned into living quarters for an entire platoon. Even Pip’s little cubbyhole above the tack room was discovered and he was made to clear it out and dispose of the rubbish it contained. He scuttled about for a whole morning with his arms full of cardboard boxes containing bits of electrical appliances that had long since been discarded,
carrying them to his attic room like a demented worker ant. Meg had seen the soldiers watching him and laughing openly at his ungainly walk and odd appearance and her own dislike of Pip was temporarily forgotten in a blaze of righteous indignation. It was easy to hate the common soldiers with their arrogant attitude and their leering glances. She could guess at what they said as she walked past them when there was no officer to snap them to attention like malignant puppets.

Meg had found herself locked out of the estate office and her status now was on a par with that of Billy and Joe. She toiled alongside them in the fields, doing physical labour that left her with cracked and bleeding hands and muscles that screamed out in protest. If her lot was hard, it was preferable to being cooped up in the house and forced to listen to the bitter complaints of Jane and Maud. For the first time in their lives they had to dirty their hands with housework, cleaning and polishing to Major Jaeger’s exacting standards.

Meg aimed to avoid the kitchen whenever possible. There seemed to be a private war going on between Marie and Corporal Klein, with bitter altercations in German and patois that stopped only when a superior officer entered the room. Meg never ceased to wonder how the soft-eyed, gentle-voiced Marie could have changed overnight into a shrill harpy who treated Corporal Klein with fearless contempt. It was as if the old Marie had gone away
after Eric’s sudden death, leaving a hard-faced stranger in their midst.

There were occasions when Meg would have given anything she possessed for her mother to return home and take control of their daily lives. She was safe and well on the mainland, according to the brief messages that they received through the Red Cross. For that at least Meg had to be thankful, but she worried constantly about her father, who seemed to have aged by ten years at least since the Germans billeted themselves at Colivet Manor. He spent many long hours in St Peter Port at meetings of the controlling committee, and came home looking ashen and exhausted. He ate with the family, such food as there was, and then every evening he retreated to his study and shut himself in with his books and papers. The closed door haunted Meg. She longed to burst through it and tell him about the burdens that the family laid on her slender shoulders. She had never felt so helpless or so alone.

It was October, and the nights were rapidly drawing in. The family had already begun their evening meal when Charles arrived home late from a meeting at the States offices.

‘You look tired, Pa.’ Meg left her place at the kitchen table to ladle out a plateful of the stew simmering in a pan on the range. Marie had worked hard to make a tasty meal from potatoes and cabbage by adding a handful of herbs and a couple of beef bones that Corporal Klein had discarded.

‘What news?’ Bertrand asked, mopping up what was left on his plate with a slice of dry bread. ‘Is there any progress in the fight against the Hun?’

Maud glared at him. ‘Do we always have to talk about war?’

‘I just asked. You’d be interested enough if it was all over.’

Charles sat down, staring at his plate. Meg thought he was going to push it away and she wouldn’t have blamed him if he did, but it was food and it was reasonably hot. She fretted miserably when Pa refused to eat. They had all lost weight but Pa looked positively skeletal and so frail that she
was afraid he might not survive the rigours of a harsh winter.

‘I did hear some news, as it happens.’ Charles lifted his spoon and sipped some of the thin broth. ‘Dreadful news. London has been bombed night after night, killing thousands and reducing whole streets to rubble. They’re calling it the Blitz.’

Meg shuddered. ‘How awful. I suppose we’re lucky that we don’t live in fear of attacks from the air.’

‘Lucky!’ Jane ladled more potatoes onto Pip’s plate. ‘We’re almost starving and being treated like slaves and you call it lucky. I don’t.’

Meg was about to change the subject, but the sight of Pip shovelling food into his mouth and grunting like a pig sickened her, and suddenly she could bear it no longer. ‘Your manners are disgusting, Pip.’

He licked the thin trickle of gravy from his chin and gave her a sly smile. ‘You’ll change your tune when you know what I’ve got.’

‘Something painful and preferably fatal, I hope.’ The sharp words tumbled from her lips and were instantly regretted. The war was doing dreadful things to people. She would never have said anything so harsh in the old days.

‘Just you wait and see.’ Apparently unabashed, Pip seized the last slice of bread and stuffed it into his mouth.

Meg glanced at Jane to see if she would reprimand
her son, but she was smiling indulgently. ‘What is it, Pip, darling?’

Charles pushed his half-eaten meal away with an apologetic smile. ‘Thank you, Marie. That was good, but I haven’t much appetite today.’

‘What I wouldn’t give for a nice juicy steak,’ Bertrand said, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. ‘And a glass of claret to wash it down.’

Maud dug him in the ribs with her elbow. ‘I thought we’d agreed not to talk about food in that way.’

‘You can’t blame a chap for dreaming.’

Meg sighed. She could hardly blame anyone for making comparisons between the meals they used to enjoy and the things they were forced to eat now. Salt, like most things, was in short supply and had to be used sparingly. It was amazing how little things they had taken for granted before the war were now suddenly more precious than gold. She cast an anxious glance at her father as he pushed his plate away. ‘Are you all right, Pa?’

‘Just a bit tired, my dear. It’s been a long day. I think I’ll just go to my study and read for a while before I go to bed.’

‘You can’t go yet.’ Pip jumped to his feet. ‘Just wait. I’ve got something to show you all. Something very clever.’

‘Not now, Pip,’ Charles said tiredly.

‘Don’t go away. I’ll be really quick.’ Pip raced from the room, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in his wake.
Minutes later he returned clutching a cardboard shoebox.

Jane beamed at him. ‘What clever thing have you done? Show us, dear.’