We'll Meet Again Page 17

  He frowned. ‘How have you been treated badly? Major Jaeger is a good officer and he told me that your family have been treated well.’

  ‘Major Jaeger put Grulich in charge of us.’ She dropped her gaze. To say anything else might make him suspicious and there was no way of knowing how far she could trust him.

  He was silent for a moment and Meg could feel his gaze upon her but she would not raise her head. She stared down at her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

  ‘We are not all like that,’ he said softly. ‘No one knows the connection between us. You can trust me, Meg.’

  She wanted desperately to believe him, but she knew that she must be strong. If she allowed herself once again to fall under his spell, all would be lost. One slip, one careless word and the whole family would be in terrible danger. She raised her chin to look him in the eyes. ‘I don’t know you. You’re not the man I knew in Oxford. Whatever you say you’re part of the German war machine and that means we can never be friends.’ She left the room without giving him a chance to respond.

  Meg kept Rayner’s identity a secret from the rest of the family, but under his command there were subtle improvements in their daily lives. Corporal Klein relaxed the stringent rules regarding the times that the family were allowed to use the kitchen, and occasionally Marie found small amounts of extra rations in the larder. The back-breaking duties that Grulich had imposed as punishments were a thing of the past, and if Captain Weiss found any of his fellow officers tormenting Pip, they were severely reprimanded. Despite all this, Meg avoided Rayner. She was too resentful of his uniform to be grateful for the small but important privileges they were allowed, and too afraid of her own emotions to let down her guard. She could not bear to admit, even to herself, that the old attraction was simmering beneath the surface like a monster preparing to pounce and devour her heart and soul. She avoided Rayner as much as was humanly possible.

  Christmas was only a few days away and the snow had melted leaving the island under a pall of grey cloud and fine drizzle. It was Meg’s turn to go to market and she rode her bicycle into town. She chained it to the railings of the town church and made certain that the padlock was secure, well aware that left unattended it would be stolen as soon as she was out of sight. She joined the dismal people queuing in the rain for their rations and finally, chilled and tired, she made her way up the High Street to the Pantry, where she hoped that she might meet Pearl, as it was the day she usually accompanied her father to the library.

  Meg felt a degree of relief when she saw Pearl sitting at a table near the window. She looked thinner, and pale without makeup, which was now unobtainable except on the black market, but her face lit up when she saw Meg.

  ‘Meg, darling. Lovely to see you. Happy Christmas.’

  ‘Happy Christmas, Pearl. But I’m afraid it’s not going to be much of a festive season.’

  ‘Don’t. I can’t bear to think of all those parties with lashings of food and drink. It’s too depressing.’

  A waitress appeared at the table and Meg ordered coffee and a bun. ‘How are your parents?’

  ‘All right, I suppose. Daddy has a terrible cough and Mummy gets a bit depressed now and then. She sleeps rather a lot these days. I wish my so-and-so appendix had waited until we’d been evacuated to England. It’s so quiet and lonely at home that I sometimes think I’ll go mad.’

  ‘I’ve got a few dozen Germans you can have,’ Meg said, grinning. ‘They’d liven things up for you.’

  Pearl shuddered theatrically. ‘I don’t know how you can joke about it. I’d die of fright with all those jackboots trampling round the place. Unlike some, who actually seem to like their company.’

  Meg turned her head to follow Pearl’s gaze, and was dismayed to see that Simone had just walked in accompanied by Captain Brandt. Although she wore a new winter coat, her condition was immediately obvious.

  ‘See what I mean?’

  Meg stared aghast at the heavily pregnant Simone. What would Marie and Gerald say when they found out? A cold shiver shot down her spine. The looks of disgust on the faces of the locals were indicative of the general view of girls who fraternised with the enemy. They were known as Jerrybags and publicly shunned. It had not occurred to Meg until now, but this would be the path she would be forced to tread if she allowed herself to fall in love with Rayner for a second time. She caught Simone’s eye and smiled, but Simone ignored her and made her way to a vacant table. She sat down, glaring around the room as if daring anyone to approach her.

  Meg sat without listening to Pearl’s chatter, interjecting the right noises here and there, but every now and then she found herself casting covert glances at Simone and Dieter. They did not look as though they were enjoying themselves. Simone’s restless fingers toyed with the cutlery on the gingham tablecloth. Dieter was speaking to her but she remained impassive, saying nothing. Just as the waitress appeared with their order, Simone pushed back her chair, struggled to her feet and stormed out of the café.

  Dieter made no attempt to follow her. He remained seated, stirring his ersatz coffee and staring into space.

  Meg threw some coins onto the table and gathered up her scarf and gloves. ‘I’ve got to go, Pearl. Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t waste your time on that slut, Meg,’ Pearl said, shaking her head. ‘She’s not worth it.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Outside the café, Meg was just in time to see Simone hurrying off towards the town church. Running, Meg caught up with her. ‘Simone, are you all right?’

  ‘Don’t ask bloody silly questions. Do I look all right?’

  ‘I can see you’re pregnant, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘I’m not a tart.’ Simone quickened her pace.

  ‘For God’s sake stop and talk to me.’ Meg dragged her into the doorway of a shop that had used to sell luxury goods but was now closed and shuttered. Cold sleety rain had begun to fall from a cast-iron sky. Although it was only three o’clock in the afternoon darkness was already engulfing the island.

  ‘You want to lecture me, I suppose. Well you can keep your opinions to yourself, Meg Colivet.’

  ‘I don’t care what you’ve done or what happens to you, but I do care about your mother and your brother, and if you’re in trouble they’ll want to help.’

  ‘I don’t need them, and I don’t want anyone poking their noses into my business.’

  ‘Is Dieter going to stand by you and the baby?’

  ‘He’s being posted to France.’ Simone spat on the pavement. ‘They know how to look after their own, the German bastards.’

  ‘What about your job at the hospital?’

  ‘They sacked me two weeks ago.’

  ‘So how are you managing? Where are you living?’

  ‘I’ve been staying with a friend, but she wants me out as soon as I’ve found somewhere else.’

  ‘Right, that settles it. Get the bus to St Martin’s and come straight to the house. If the guard on the gate challenges you, just tell him you’re Marie’s daughter and you’re visiting.’

  ‘Why would I want to do that? Why lay myself open to a lecture from Mum?’

  ‘You can’t avoid her forever, and you might find that she’s more open-minded than you think. You can stay with us, Simone. At least you’ll have a roof over your head and you’ll be safe from the self-righteous busybodies in town.’

  Simone hesitated as if weighing up the odds against her. ‘I haven’t much choice, have I?’ she said slowly.

  ‘Not really. Look, if you hurry you’ll catch the bus. If you miss it you’ll have to wait a couple of hours or walk all the way. Suit yourself.’

  Simone’s shoulders hunched and she stared down at the ground. ‘All right, you win.’ She set off towards the bus station.

  Meg went to collect her bicycle and pedalled home as if the devil were on her heels. She arrived at the house just as Simone was stepping off the bus. The guard on the gate accepted Meg’s explanation for Simone’s visit with a
curt nod of his head, and waved them in. As they made their way towards the servants’ entrance a sudden downpour drenched them both. Rainwater dripped off their clothes onto the flagstone floor as they entered the scullery.

  ‘Wait here,’ Meg whispered. ‘We don’t want Corporal Klein asking awkward questions.’

  ‘Who’s he?’ Simone’s teeth were chattering audibly and her face was pale and pinched with cold.

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’ Meg hurried into the kitchen and was relieved to find that Marie was on her own. ‘I’ve brought someone to see you.’

  A spark of hope lit Marie’s eyes. ‘Simone?’

  ‘Wait, there’s something you must know before you see her.’

  ‘She’s ill, isn’t she?’

  ‘She’s pregnant.’

  ‘I don’t believe it, not my Simone.’

  ‘That’s the least of it. She’ll tell you all the ins and outs herself, but I wanted to warn you because she’s in a delicate state. If you go on at her she might take off and do something stupid.’

  ‘For God’s sake, tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘She’s been going with a German officer and he’s being transferred to France. You know what the locals will make of that if it gets out.’

  Marie sat down suddenly as if her legs had given way beneath her. ‘That’s terrible, Meg. What will we do?’

  ‘She must stay here. There’s no question about that.’

  ‘Yes, that’s the only solution, but we must keep quiet about the baby’s father.’

  ‘I knew you’d say that, Mum.’ Simone stood in the doorway, shivering but defiant. ‘I suppose you want to throw me out on the street.’

  ‘You know me better than that.’ Marie leapt to her feet and opened her arms. Slowly, Simone crossed the floor and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.

  Meg backed towards the door. ‘This is a family matter. I’ll go and find Gerald.’ She hurried along the narrow passageway that led to the main entrance, and hearing footsteps on the marble tiles in the entrance hall she broke into a run. Her wet hair hung limply about her shoulders but her appearance was the last thing on her mind. As she turned the corner into the entrance hall she came to a sudden halt as a man stepped out of the drawing room. Rayner took in her dishevelled appearance with a ghost of a smile. ‘You look as you did when I fished you out of the Thames. Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘You usually run about the house in that state, I suppose?’

  ‘I got wet. I was going to my room to change.’

  ‘I need to speak to you in private, Meg.’ He opened the door.

  It was not an order, but she could hardly refuse without some sort of explanation, and she did not want to tell him about Simone’s fall from grace. It was a personal matter and best kept from the attention of Hauptmann Dressler. Reluctantly she followed him into the drawing room.

  It was the first time she had been invited into Dressler’s inner sanctum since the day that he had commandeered it for his own purposes, and she was shocked to see it in its current state. A large desk stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by chairs taken from the dining room. The bare floorboards were badly marked and showing signs of neglect. The Louis Quinze chairs were almost threadbare from constant use, and the lingering odour of stale tobacco smoke and sour wine filled the air. Metal filing cabinets had replaced the Sheraton side tables, and the credenza was piled high with wicker baskets overflowing with documents. Meg shuddered to think what her mother would say if she could see the room now. She looked up to find that Rayner was regarding her with a look of concern in his blue eyes. He motioned her to sit down, but instead of taking a seat at the desk he perched casually on the edge. His fair hair glinted in the light from the chandelier. ‘You can tell me anything, Meg. I’m not a monster just because I wear a foreign uniform.’

  ‘You made your choice. That puts you on the other side. I have nothing to say.’

  ‘Very well. I can’t force you to confide in me, but I want you to know that I’ve done everything I can to make your family’s life a little easier. I don’t like this any more than you do. You must believe that.’

  She looked away quickly as the old familiar pull of attraction tugged at her heartstrings and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She hesitated, but in the end she knew she must put her trust in him. ‘I suppose I’d better tell you before one of your men says anything and Major Jaeger finds out. Gerald’s sister has been seeing a German officer and she’s pregnant. You know what my fellow countrymen think of girls who fraternise with the enemy.’

  He nodded.

  ‘I’ve brought her here so that her mother can take care of her. Simone has lost her job and she’s been thrown out of her digs.’

  ‘The father, does he know?’

  ‘He knows all right, and very conveniently he’s being posted to France.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘It’s a difficult situation, but I can’t abandon her.’

  He nodded. ‘I understand. Leave it with me, but keep her out of the way for now. If you let me have her papers, I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Thank you. And thank you for keeping quiet about Gerald.’

  ‘Even Krauts have their Achilles heels, Meg,’ he said, smiling.

  She met his gaze and it was as if nothing had changed since that day on the river. The warmth in his eyes made her catch her breath. She could not think and she could barely breathe. She was in danger of drowning but this time it was in a maelstrom of emotion. ‘I must go.’ She hurried from the room, not daring to look back.

  Christmas Day dawned clear and cold. Hoar frost lay like icing sugar on the bare branches of the oak trees and the green fingers of the pines looked as though they had been sprinkled with glitter. Meg was up early as usual, milking the cows on her own, having given Billy and Joe the time off to be with their families. As she leaned against the warm flank of the cow she thought of Christmases before the war and suddenly her eyes filled with tears. Those comfortable, carefree days seemed like another lifetime. Her stomach growled and nowadays hunger was a physical pain. She had become used to going to bed on an empty stomach and waking up famished. The thought of a bowl of hot mushed barley with a dusting of their precious sugar ration was all that kept her going.

  The last drop of rich milk poured into the pail and Meg patted the cow, telling her what a clever girl she was. The animal turned its head, lowing softly, and her liquid brown eyes seemed to smile. Meg stood up and stretched. She carried the pail to the churn and, with a surreptitious glance over her shoulder to make sure there was no one about, she scooped a panful of the thick cream from the top. She knew she was taking a risk and the punishment for stealing would be severe if she were caught, but High Command had provided a generous beer ration to the troops, apparently hoping to raise the morale of men absent from their families at Christmas. She had heard the sounds of revelry emanating from the stable block into the small hours, and she hoped that they were sleeping off last night’s excesses. She hummed ‘Good King Wenceslas’ on her way back to the house.

  Marie had made a special effort with their breakfast and had thrown a handful of carefully hoarded dried fruit into the porridge as a special treat. The addition of fresh cream was an unimaginable luxury. The barley and acorn coffee was hot and bitter but Charles gazed at the thick cream floating on the top of his cup and sipped it with a blissful expression on his face. ‘This is wonderful, almost like pre-war.’

  ‘What’s that, Charles? Can’t even remember that far back,’ Bertrand said with his mouth full.

  ‘Manners, Bertie. We’ve got to keep up our standards.’ Maud wiped her lips on one of Muriel’s second best damask napkins.

  ‘Is there any more porridge?’ Pip had cleaned his plate and was looking hopefully at Marie.

  Meg laid her hand on Marie’s arm as she was about to rise from her seat. ‘I’ll go. Sit down and finish your breakfast.’

  �
�Let the boy get his own,’ Charles said, frowning.

  ‘I don’t think so, Pa. He’d gobble the last drop and no one else would get a look-in.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Pip said, scowling. ‘You always pick on me.’ He looked to his mother, but Jane said nothing.

  Meg smiled to herself as she left the room. Perhaps Jane had realised at long last that her son behaved like a spoiled brat. Maybe there was hope for him yet, although somehow she doubted it. She went to the kitchen and found a big black saucepan had been left to keep warm on the hob. She was searching for the ladle when the door opened and to her astonishment it was Rayner who entered the room. To her knowledge the officers never came near this part of the house. She shot him a curious glance.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Meg.’

  ‘You’re joking, of course.’

  ‘I wasn’t, but I remember the days when you used to enjoy a joke. You were bold, beautiful and, as I remember, fearless.’

  ‘Perhaps because I had nothing to fear then.’

  ‘You know that I would do nothing to harm you or your family.’

  ‘Yes, I do and I’m sorry. You’ve treated us as well as we can expect.’ She placed the ladle in the saucepan. ‘Did you want something?’

  He came slowly towards her, holding her gaze so that she could not look away. ‘Whatever you think of me, it’s still Christmas and I have something for you.’

  She shook her head. ‘This is madness. I think you’d better leave. Corporal Klein might come in at any moment.’

  He silenced her with a kiss. It was the most fleeting of embraces but she could still feel his lips on hers after he drew away. He took her hand and closed her fingers over a small box. She shook her head. ‘Whatever it is, it wouldn’t be right to accept. Not as things are now. Can’t you understand that?’

  ‘You don’t know what it is. You might be pleased.’