Jean Grainger Box Set: So Much Owed, Shadow of a Century, Under Heaven's Shining Stars

by Jean Grainger

  ‘She’s dead. They dumped her body in a field. She had been horribly tortured. Good night, my dear.’ Juliet hugged her friend quickly at the door.

  As she walked the streets of the ancient city, Juliet tried to absorb the horror of the agent’s death. Despite it being close to Christmas, there was no air of festivity. Juliet wound her scarf tighter around her neck and held her coat closed against the biting wind. Who was that poor girl? How old had she been? The uncertainty of life in occupied France and the constant knowledge that the game could be up at any moment was exhausting. The idea that the agent had been betrayed filled her with panic. She tried to block it out, it didn’t bear thinking about.

  She wondered how she would cope if she was unmasked as a spy. It had all seemed so abstract in the various training schools in England and even, to a certain extent, here in France, but the events of recent weeks brought the reality of what she was facing into sharp focus. She coped with it by not thinking about the future if she was captured. Even the word interrogation made her nauseous. During her training, she had been left in no doubt as to what it meant. The methods used to extract information were many and varied, all of them unbearable. She thought of the tiny pill under the insole of her shoe. It was the final thing they gave you when leaving London. It guaranteed almost instant death in the case of being caught. Had the agent been able to take the poison before she broke down under torture? Juliet wondered if they had trained together. Had she been old or young? Had someone betrayed her? Had she in turn betrayed others? Did she know about Juliet? It was terrifying.

  Letting herself into Dr Blain’s house, she found Luc and Jean-Marc sitting on the stairs in their pyjamas, almost hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. As she entered, they charged at her, full of excitement.

  ‘Marie-Louise! There was a man here, a German, looking for you. He gave us sweets! Papa told him you were out on an errand for him, but he asked us to give you these!’

  All available land was being used to grow food, so flowers were a very rare sight indeed even in summer. Such an elaborate bouquet in the depths of winter was unheard of. Then, Nazis could get anything they wanted, everyone knew that. Dr Blain emerged from the kitchen and caught her eye over the heads of his sons. There was a message with the flowers, and Luc handed it to her, excited at such an unusual event. Juliet opened the envelope and inside was a small card.

  I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. The doctor agrees you work too hard! Dieter.

  Chapter 33

  James sat in the café of the train station in Cork. People rushed on and off trains; rationing meant that they looked universally shabby – shoes were well-worn, coats were thin and frayed, and collars turned on shirts. A few men in uniform walked up and down belligerently, almost daring anyone to comment on the fact that they were fighting for the British.

  She’d asked him to meet her at the little station in Skibbereen, but he’d wanted to intercept her journey here, away from all the prying eyes. He had been so happy to hear from her after over a year of nothing. At the start, he was sure the fight they’d had was just a little tiff and that it would all blow over, but when the days turned into weeks and he hadn’t heard from her, he tried writing. He apologised for the fight and agreed with her that he should grow up. He knew that she received his letters – Edith had confirmed it when he rang her – but she didn’t reply.

  He hadn’t visited his mother in months, but she’d been happy to receive his call. He was getting to know Edith; she wasn’t one for recriminations or emotional blackmail. She was straightforward in that way. When he eventually went up to see her in March, she made no comment at the length of his absence. When he enquired after Ingrid, she merely said she wasn’t there and that neither she nor Otto knew where she was. Clearly, if they did know, they weren’t going to tell him. He wanted to ask straight out if they thought she was seeing someone else, but he couldn’t bear to hear the answer. He returned to Dunderrig even more despondent than he’d left. Solange and Mrs Canty tried their best to cheer him up, but he had no interest.

  He poured his misery into his art, painting all day every day, often into the early hours of the morning. By now, he had enough work for several exhibitions.

  The sale of the six-foot-wide canvas of Castletownshend village to the Bank of Ireland last year had been lucrative and had placed him in the public eye. His paintings were in high demand and he worked tirelessly, not for the money but to try to fill the void left by Ingrid. He had an agent now, and there was talk of a large showing of his work in Dublin, but he was reluctant – that city held too many memories of when he and Ingrid had been happy and in love. He preferred the solitude of Dunderrig, where for the most part he was left alone.

  He wondered if he should have brought flowers – or would that have been too much? Her letter had been warm but very short. He took it out and perused it for the hundredth time, trying to read between the lines.

  Dear James,

  I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you came to Dublin. I missed you. I am going to come to Dunderrig, if that is all right. I’m not much for writing letters, as you know, so maybe we can just talk face to face. I always loved Christmas at Dunderrig. I’ll get the first train down on the eighteenth and change at Cork. It’s only a short wait, and you can meet me in Skibbereen. If you don’t want to see me, can you ring Edith just to let me know?

  With love,

  Ingrid.

  What did she mean, she missed him? Did she miss him in the gut-wrenching way he missed her, or was she saying she missed him by not being there when he came to Dublin? It must mean she was planning on staying over for Christmas though, which was a week away yet, so that was good news surely. He knew that whatever her terms, he would have her back in a heartbeat. He had tried going out with other girls in the past year, but no one came even close to her. He even spent a passionate weekend in a hotel in Killarney with an older woman whom he met at an exhibition in Cork and, while he enjoyed it and had certainly emerged from the experience a more worldly young man, she wasn’t Ingrid.

  The first train to leave Dublin would be into Cork in ten minutes. He walked along the platform and caught a glance of himself in the large mirror of the ladies’ waiting room – someone had left the door open. His new navy Dunlap hat and coat made him look older and, he hoped, a little more distinguished. His blond hair was longer than when she’d seen him last; his Killarney companion had told him that he looked rakish and artistic that way, so he had let it curl over his collar. He swam every day in the sea – winter and summer – to relieve the stress on his body from painting and had bulked up a lot as a result. He hoped Ingrid liked what she saw in the new, older, and hopefully wiser James.

  The train pulled in with puffs of smoke, the smell of burning peat permeating the air. There was no coal now for running the steam engine, so turf had to be used instead. The doors opened and people emerged onto the platform. James’s eyes raked the platform for Ingrid, then noticed that someone was struggling to open one of the train doors from the inside and went to help. Time stood still as he realised the person he had freed was Ingrid. Her dark hair was shorter and she seemed less self-assured. James gazed into her face, unable to speak – until an outraged cry from the bundle in her arms distracted him, and his eyes were drawn in amazement to the tiny creature in her arms.

  In a daze, he helped her off the train with her many bags, not trusting himself to speak. Around them, travellers dragged trunks and suitcases, people embraced, and the station buzzed with the commotion of the train’s arrival, but James and Ingrid stood on the platform, oblivious to it all. Removing the blanket a little so James could see the baby more clearly, Ingrid spoke quietly.

  ‘Hello, James. This is your daughter, Lili.’

  The blood was pounding in his ears, Ingrid’s words sinking in. His daughter. He couldn’t take it in. Could this really be happening? Ingrid had become pregnant and then had never told him, then refused to answer his let
ters and wouldn’t see him when he went up to Dublin. So that’s why Edith and Otto had seemed so awkward when he had asked where she was. Suddenly, the mystery of Ingrid’s disappearance was starting to make sense.

  ‘Please say something, James.’ Her voice was different – not as full of life as it once was.

  He needed to be alone with her, with them, to figure this out. He couldn’t discuss it in the middle of a train station. ‘Let’s go to the Metropole Hotel; we can talk there.’ He barely recognised his own voice.

  HE SAT ON THE chair while she lay on the bed, propped up on pillows, and settled the baby to her breast. He couldn’t take his eyes off his child. ‘How old is she?’

  ‘Her birthday is on the first of May. She’s seven months old. I know this must be a shock, and maybe I should have told you, but you were so young and so worried about everything. I knew I was pregnant that day in Dunderrig, and I was going to tell you when we got back to Dublin, but then we had that row and well…I realised it was too much for you. So I told Uncle Otto and Edith, but I made them promise not to tell you.’

  ‘So, you don’t tell me you’re pregnant, then you make my own mother lie to me, you have my child, and you don’t say a word about it, and now you just arrive off the train. Expecting what? What do you want? How could you have kept this from me?’ James was shaking with emotion. How could she do this to him?

  The baby stirred and Ingrid switched breasts. Settling her again, she said, ‘If you are wondering if she’s your child then the answer is yes. You are too polite to ask, but it’s a logical question after all this time. You can check the dates if you like. Anyway, she has your green eyes – so vivid. As to your question, well, I don’t know what you want, how you feel. I want us to try again. We were happy once, and we could be again. I want Lili to have a father who loves her and who will do right by her. But if that’s not what you want, then you are perfectly within your rights to say no, and we’ll return to Dublin by the next train.’

  James sat and looked at them for the longest time. Ingrid sat Lili upon her knee, and the contented baby let out a loud belch, followed by a wide gummy smile. James’s heart melted, all anger and resentment gone. As he looked at the smiling face of his little girl, he realised that everything he had ever wanted was there on that bed. All he had to do was take it. Ingrid was waiting for his response. He knew her well enough to know there would be no tears or pleading. She was offering him a life, a family, her love – and that’s all he had ever wanted. Ingrid was right, he had been immature, but he had grown up a lot in the past year and now he felt ready. He walked over to the bed and lay down beside Ingrid, their daughter snuggled between them, and he kissed them both tenderly.

  ‘Let’s get married,’ he whispered.

  ‘We’d love that,’ she replied. ‘Wouldn’t we, Lili?’

  THE CAR APPROACHED THE station in Skibbereen as James and Ingrid stood waiting for it in the cold, Lili wrapped up in blankets in his arms. They had stayed overnight in Cork, and he had rung the house to ask to be collected at the station the following lunchtime. He had wondered if he should prepare them, to tell them about Lili in advance, but he’d decided against it. He hoped it was Eddie in the car, or better still, the young lad that helped out around the place now that Eddie was getting on a bit. Ideally, he wanted to tell his father himself, alone; that way if Richard said anything negative, it would be only to him and not to Ingrid. To his relief, it was the young fellow. He loaded all the bags into the car and drove them home without comment.

  James brought his new family in by the front door. He could hear Solange in the kitchen with Mrs Canty, and the aromas emerging were mouth-watering. He showed Ingrid into the rarely used drawing room with Lili and asked her to wait. Then he crossed the hall and knocked on his father’s surgery door. Richard had drilled into them since childhood that they were never to enter the surgery unannounced.

  ‘Come in.’ His father’s voice sounded tired.

  ‘Ah, James. You’re back. Did you find the paints you needed?’ The surgery was empty of patients, and his father was washing his hands in preparation for lunch. ‘I’ll tell you now, if I have to look at another bunion, I’ll scream.’ He smiled at his own joke. Sensing no reaction from his son, he turned around – and paled.

  ‘What is it? Is it Juliet?’

  ‘No Dad, it’s nothing like that. I…I just need to talk to you about something.’

  ‘James? Are you all right? Sit down.’

  James inhaled deeply. He was a man, no longer a child, and he was bringing his family home.

  ‘I’m fine, Dad, I just need to tell you that I didn’t go to Cork for art supplies. I went to meet Ingrid. She wrote to me, you see, wanting to see me, and I’ve been so miserable…’

  Richard patted his son’s shoulder, his face flooded with relief. ‘Thank God. I was sure it was something to do with your sister.’

  ‘No. Well, anyway, I met Ingrid, and she…well, she had someone with her. A baby. My baby. Lili, a little girl. She’s my daughter. She never told me, you see. I never knew until yesterday.’

  Richard sat down slowly in his chair on the other side of his desk.

  ‘I know it’s a shock, and you are probably disgusted with me, but I do love her, and we are going to get married, be a proper family… I’m so sorry. I know people are going to talk.’ He searched his father’s face for a reaction to this news.

  ‘So, you’re a father and I’m a grandfather, is that it?’ Richard was shaking his head in amazement. ‘Well, truth be told, and as I well know from my life as a doctor, yourself and Ingrid are not the first young couple to do things upside down and back to front, nor will ye be the last. Sure, it’s not the perfect way, to have the child before you get married, and there’s plenty around here who’ll have a field day with it, but to hell with them. This is nothing to do with them. If ye have decided to give it a go, and ye love each other, then I wish ye the best of luck. This world is full of terrible things happening all the time, people determined to blow each other to kingdom come at every opportunity. Your sister is out there doing God knows what, and us not knowing when we’ll see her again. We have a new baby in the family and that’s great news. Ingrid is a grand girl, and if ye want to get married, then I’m happy for ye both. Another Buckley of Dunderrig is just what we need. Is she here?’

  James realised he wasn’t surprised at his father’s reaction. He just loved his children and of course he would love his grandchild. Juliet’s absence had put everything else into perspective, and Richard was just happy to have his family around him.

  ‘Yes, they’re in the drawing room.’ He was almost too choked up to speak.

  ‘Jesus, do you want the pair of them down with pneumonia? ’Tis freezing in there. Let’s go and bring them into the kitchen where they can sit by the range, and then Solange and Mrs Canty can have a look at this child, too.’

  Putting his arm around his son’s shoulders, they crossed the hall and opened the drawing-room door. Ingrid looked up in expectation, and Richard kissed her on the cheek and gave her a one-armed hug. He then took his granddaughter in his arms and studied her in delight, while she looked curiously at him. Her blond hair curled around her face, and she had exactly the same green eyes as James and himself.

  ‘Well, now then, Miss Lili Buckley.’ Richard spoke gently. ‘You are very welcome to Dunderrig. I’m your granddad, and we are so happy you’re here. Now, I think you’ve been a very good girl, so we’ll have to make sure that Santa leaves something special for you under the tree. But first we must introduce you to Solange and Mrs Canty, who’ll be mad about you too and will spoil you rotten.’

  Lili responded to her grandfather’s words with one of her signature gummy smiles.

  James put his arm around Ingrid as they walked after Richard and Lili across the hall. She nestled into him.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

  He replied, ‘I love you too.’

 
Solange and Mrs Canty gazed open-mouthed as Richard announced, ‘Ladies, let me introduce Lili Buckley, my granddaughter. Isn’t she beautiful?’ He stood in the middle of the kitchen as Solange and Mrs Canty stared in astonishment.

  Solange had not expected to see Ingrid again, let alone this, and even Mrs Canty was uncharacteristically silenced.

  Yet moments later, both women recovered their composure and drew close to the baby – and melted in instant adoration. Solange coaxed James and Ingrid out from behind Richard, and all five adults formed a circle of love around the newest Buckley of Dunderrig. Mrs Canty slapped James across the behind, like she’d done all his life.

  ‘Aren’t you a right divil now? Herself below in the post office is going to get great mileage out of this, so she will. I suppose ’tis only one more peculiar happening in Dunderrig. Sure without us to talk about t’would be a very dull village!’ But the words were delivered with a chuckle, and James knew that his baby, Lili, was now one of the family.

  Chapter 34

  Juliet managed to get the boys to bed and as she was going to her room, Doctor Blain called her to the kitchen. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the table.

  Pouring her a glass first, he handed it to her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dr Blain, I had no idea he would just turn up here. I don’t know what to do…’

  ‘Marie-Louise, I don’t know why you are here, I don’t know what you’re doing in France, and for mine and my children’s safety, I do not want to know. But I do know some things. I know, for example, you’re no more from Amiens than I am.’

  Juliet looked at him in dismay. She’d been so careful – how could he have guessed?

  ‘Don’t worry. I just mentioned something a while back – a large train crash that happened about five years ago in Amiens – and it didn’t register with you.’