We'll Meet Again (4 page)

I smiled wanly. With the enemy on our doorstep? With the country on the alert for invasion? With the might of Germany facing us across a strip of water?

Still, I had to remember that Edward was home. Edward was safe.

“Please God,” I prayed, “let Jowan come back to me.”

Gretchen left that day and the waiting went on. I lifted my face to the clear blue sky and felt a vague annoyance because the world was so beautiful at this time. It was as though we were being told: this is how it could have been but for the folly of men.

Each day I waited. Where was Jowan? Had he been one of the men who had died before he could be rescued? Was he with the remains of the army who had been left behind?

Edward was not badly wounded. He had some shrapnel lodged in his right arm which had to be taken out. Then, after a brief leave which he and Gretchen could spend together, he would join his regiment in the West Country.

If this proved to be so, my mother said, it would be better for Gretchen to rejoin us so she would be nearer to him. She was sure her stay with us had done her good.

Lucky Gretchen! Lucky Edward! And still there was no news of Jowan.

How the days dragged on! Each morning when I awoke after a generally restless night, tormented by dreams which reflected my daytime fears, I wondered what the day held. Events were moving rapidly, but I was obsessed by one thing. Where was Jowan? What if I should never know! How could fate be so cruel as to show me what happiness I might have had and then snatch it away from me!

The French were fast collapsing; the myth of the impassable Maginot Line was destroyed; Marshal Pétain had asked for an armistice; we stood alone.

I was beginning to fear that Jowan would never return.

The position was grim. The Germans had control of the Channel ports and the Battle of Britain had started. We were in constant danger, not knowing from one moment to the next whether this would be our last.

Dorabella and I came down to breakfast one morning, finding Gordon drinking a cup of coffee before leaving.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “There is a possibility of enemy agents coming into the country disguised as refugees. Small boats are still getting across the Channel. We have to watch. The idea is that when these boats come in, we will examine everyone in them before they are allowed to land. It is tricky because they will, in the main, be genuine refugees, but there will no doubt be people who would do a great deal to get through. We are setting up a watch along the coast. The most likely spots will be farther east, of course, as the distance is so much shorter there. But some might try Cornwall in spite of that because it would be easier to be undetected. Anyway, we have to be prepared.”

“This gets more and more fantastic,” said Dorabella.

Gordon gave her a slightly exasperated look.

“Fantastic indeed,” he said. “And more than that. We are in acute danger, you know. We have to be prepared night and day. During the day any boats could be seen. Fortunately, there are not many places along this coast where it would be easy to land. However, the beach below this house is certainly one of them and this little stretch of coast is our responsibility. I am preparing a rota and the beach will be watched throughout the hours of darkness by two observers. You two will naturally want to do your part. With the servants and the people from the cottages around here there will be several available, so your periods of duty will not come round so frequently.”

“Certainly we shall do our share,” I said. “Tell us more.”

“We shall watch in pairs for two hours each night. Fortunately at this time of year there are not many hours of darkness. You and Dorabella can watch together. Some of the older couples can join in. It will give them the satisfaction of helping the war effort.”

Charley and Bert Trimmell wanted to be on the rota and Gordon thought it was a good idea that they should be. He had discovered that Charley was quite interested in the estate and he was giving him tasks now and then for which he was receiving small payments. He and Gordon seemed to get on very well together.

Dorabella and I quite looked forward to those nocturnal duties. It was good to have something worthwhile to do and be able to do it together.

It was one o’clock in the morning. We had been on duty since midnight and at two o’clock the next pair would come to take over.

We sat looking across the sea, talking desultorily.

“How strange life has become,” said Dorabella. “At least it’s not exactly boring. I found it so once …”

“That was when you had the urge to run away with your Frenchman,” I said.

“You wouldn’t understand. I saw life stretching out before me … year after year … the same old thing day after day. And the impulse came. Oh, no, you wouldn’t understand. Violetta would always do her duty.”

“You left Tristan,” I said. “That was what I could not understand.”

“He was only a child. Oh, it’s no use trying to explain. I thought I’d settle in Paris, and Dermot would divorce me. I would marry Jacques Dubois and you would come over to see me. I thought it would work somehow.”

“That’s just like you. You make a wild plan and then imagine everything is going to work out to make it come right.”

“Don’t scold.”

“Well, it was all rather stupid, as it turned out.”

“You’ll never understand.”

“I think I do … quite well.”

Then suddenly I saw the light on the water. It was a long way out, almost on the horizon. It flickered for a moment and then went out.

“Did you see that?” I whispered.

“Where?”

“Look. No. Towards the horizon there. It’s gone. No. There it is again.”

Dorabella was staring ahead of her. “Lights,” she whispered. “Oh, Violetta, they’ve come. The invasion has started!”

“Wait a minute,” I whispered. “It’s gone. No, there it is.”

For a few seconds we watched the unearthly lights on the water.

“There’s another, and another,” I cried.

It was light and then dark; the lights seemed to be bobbing on the water.

I said: “We must give the alarm at once. I’ll call Gordon. You wait here and watch.”

I hurried to the house and up to Gordon’s room. I knocked on his door. There was no answer, so I went in.

He was fast asleep.

“Gordon!” I cried. “They’ve come. It’s the invasion.”

Within seconds he was out of bed and pulling on some clothes.

As we came out of his room, one of the servants appeared.

“Wake everyone up,” cried Gordon. “Raise the alarm!”

We hurried down. Dorabella came to meet us.

The sea was dark now. I wondered whether the enemy had realized their lights had been seen.

There were voices everywhere, and several people on the cliff looking out to sea. The whole company of the Local Defence Volunteers had arrived.

“Should us alert them in Plymouth, sir?” asked one.

“We’m getting the church bells ringing down in Poldown, sir,” said another.

And then we heard the bells ringing out.

Dorabella and I were aghast, because the sea was in darkness and the lights we had seen seemed to have disappeared entirely. We looked at each other in dismay. We could not have been mistaken. We had seen them clearly.

And then suddenly there was a flash of brightness.

We were vindicated. They were really there. For a moment I felt almost a relief, and then immediately I was ashamed of myself.

There were several fishermen in the crowd of watchers. I heard one of them laugh and the others joined in.

“They be fish,” cried one of them. “They Germans be naught but a shoal of fish.”

There was a deep silence, and then everyone started to laugh with relief.

Dorabella and I could not hide the fact that we were deeply mortified.

“Don’t ’ee fret, Miss,” said one of the old men. “Couldn’t be expected to know ’em … not coming from these parts. Us ’as seen ’em time and time again. ’Tis familiar like to us.”

Gordon said: “You did well.” And raising his voice, he added: “We have been shown tonight that we are well protected. If anything should happen we should have had our warning.”

It was something which would never be forgotten. Of course, it was the phosphorescence of fishes’ scales we had seen and which had deluded us into thinking they were lights on boats. It was something of a joke but people tittered when they saw us.

We knew what they were saying. “What could ’ee expect from a batch of foreigners? Didn’t know the difference between fish and Germans.”

But everyone was delighted, of course, that it had been a false alarm and the night we called out the guard for a shoal of fish would never be forgotten.

We could scarcely believe what was happening. Across that strip of water, which mercifully divided us from the scene of disaster, the Germans were occupying more than half of France, including all the ports; the army was demobilized, the fleet in enemy hands. The French, who had agreed not to make a separate peace, were now being required by the Germans not only to surrender, but to help them in the war against Britain.

All through the days we waited for fresh disasters.

We heard the Prime Minister express his grief and amazement that our onetime allies could have accepted such terms.

One evening there was a broadcast by General de Gaulle, who was in England and determined to free his country; his plan was to preserve the independence of France and help Britain in the war against Germany. Only an actual invasion could have made the situation worse.

I think we were all in a state of shock listening to the rallying call of our Prime Minister, which never failed to bring us out of our despondency and give hope—and a touch of excitement—to us all. He assured us that we would be ready. We would fight the enemy in any place on our island, wherever he dared to show his face. We would succeed—and somehow he made us believe that.

Gretchen came down. She had a great deal to tell us. There was a change in her. Edward was home and the immediate terror of imagined disaster was lifted. His wound had been slight and she admitted that she had wished it had not healed so quickly. Now he had rejoined his regiment and was ready to defend the country, but at least he would be here, on our own soil, and not in some foreign land.

She was very careful in what she said. I knew she was afraid to appear too happy at Edward’s return because she feared that would call attention to the fact that Jowan had not been one of those who came back. I could read her thoughts as I knew she did mine, and I could feel closer to her at that time than I could even to Dorabella.

One day Gretchen said to me: “What is the matter with that boy—I mean Charley, the one from London?”

“What do you mean, Gretchen? Gordon thinks he is rather bright.”

“He certainly seems very bright. I find him watching me. I suddenly look up and find his eyes on me, and he is giving me such a strange look. He turns away when he realizes I am looking at him and tries to pretend he was doing no such thing. Do you know, it’s a little upsetting.”

“Perhaps you are imagining it.”

“At first I thought so, but it happens all the time. I was just in the garden and looked up at a window. And I saw him there … watching. What can it mean? I thought perhaps you could find out.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t imagine what.”

“The young boy is doing it, too.”

“Bert?”

“The brother, yes. It is like some game. I can’t explain it. It’s creepy in a way.”

“I’ll see if I can find out what it’s all about.”

“I somehow feel they don’t like me.”

“Why should they not? They are just interested in everybody and everything here. It must be such a change for them. I think they have settled in rather well.”

Nothing would convince Gretchen that there was not something behind the boys’ behavior.

I decided the easiest way would be to try Bert, who might betray something more readily than his brother would.

I found him alone and said: “Bert, do you like Mrs. Denver?”

Bert opened his eyes wide, caught his breath, and put on an air of wariness.

“Well, Miss …” he began and stopped.

“What is it? What don’t you like about her? Why are you always watching her?”

“Well,” said Bert, “you’ve got to watch ’em, ain’t you?”

“Have you? Why?”

“Well, ’cos …”

“Because what?” I asked.

“Well, you know, Miss, we go to watch out for ’em every night, don’t we? Charley says …”

“Yes, what does Charley say?”

Bert wriggled a little.

“Charley says you’ve got to watch ’em. You never know what they’ll be up to.”

“What do you think Mrs. Denver will be ‘up to’?”

“Well, she’s one of ’em, ain’t she? She’s a German.”

I felt sick. I was reminded of that scene in the schloss when those violent young men had tried to break up the furniture.

I said: “Listen, Bert. Mrs. Denver is our friend. In a way she is related to me. She is good and kind and this war has nothing to do with her. She is on our side. She wants us to win this war. It is very important to her and her family that we do.”

“But we watch out for ’em, don’t we? And she’s one of them. Charley says we ought to watch her.”

“I must talk to Charley,” I said. “Will you bring him to me?”

Bert nodded and willingly ran off. Soon after he returned with his brother.

“Charley,” I said. “I want to talk to you about Mrs. Denver.”

Charley’s eyes narrowed and he looked wise.

“She’s on our side, Charley,” I said.

Charley looked disbelieving and gave me a look of mild contempt.

“I have to explain something to you,” I said. “It is true that Mrs. Denver is a German.” I went on: “But they are not all bad, you know. Moreover, she and her family have been treated very badly by them. Hitler is as much her enemy as ours—perhaps more so.” I tried to explain briefly and vividly what had happened at the schloss on that never-to-be-forgotten night, and I think I must have done so effectively. His eyes narrowed. He was a shrewd boy. He understood something about violence, I could see.

I finished: “You see, Charley, it is of as great importance to her as to us that we win this war.”