by Lily Baxter
About the Book
It is April 1939 and unaware that the German war machine is advancing towards the Channel Islands, seventeen-year-old Meg Colivet and her sister are enjoying a holiday in Oxford with their aunt. Here Meg meets charismatic German undergraduate Rayner Weiss and the couple fall passionately in love. But all too soon, Britain is at war with Germany, Guernsey has been occupied and Meg’s family home requisitioned by the German army.
Meg insists on remaining with her father, determined to help save her beloved island from the ravages of war. And then she finds herself face to face with Rayner – now a German officer – once more and her life is thrown into turmoil as they risk their lives to meet in secret. As the conflict in Europe intensifies, basic provisions become scarce and soon the people Meg loves come under threat. Torn between her love for Rayner and her duty to her family and the island she grew up on, a heartbroken Meg has a terrible choice to make…
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
About the Author
Also by Lily Baxter
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
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Version 1.0
Epub ISBN 9781407088549
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Published by Arrow Books 2011
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Copyright © Lily Baxter 2011
Lily Baxter has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Apart from references to actual historical figures and places, all other names and characters are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
First published in Great Britain in 2011 by
Arrow Books
Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,
London SW1V 2SA
www.rbooks.co.uk
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at:
www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780099551027
For Pat and John Langlois OBE
Lily Baxter lives in Dorset. She is the author of Poppy’s War. She also writes under the name of Dilly Court.
Also by Lily Baxter
Poppy’s War
CHAPTER ONE
April 1939
The stormy deck of the cross-Channel paddle steamer was deserted except for a single figure leaning over the ship’s rail, his outline blurred by mist and spray. For a moment Meg thought she was seeing a ghost; a phantom passenger doomed to travel the sea forever like the Flying Dutchman, but then he sneezed and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief. Vaguely disappointed that she had been robbed of a spiffing yarn with which to amuse her sister, Adele, she hesitated at the top of the companionway taking deep breaths of the damp salt-laden air. The weather had been fine when they left St Peter Port harbour, but the wind had strengthened as the vessel negotiated the turbulent currents of the Alderney race. The sea was now the colour of gunmetal and it was impossible to tell where the water ended and the sky began. It was not the sort of day to promenade on deck, but if she had remained in the cramped confines of the cabin ministering to Addie for a moment longer she too might have succumbed to the rigours of seasickness. Her reluctant patient had eventually begged to be left alone for a while and Meg had promised to be back soon. She had considered stopping in the saloon for a cup of tea and a bite to eat, but the snatches of conversations she overheard as she passed between the tables were fraught with anxiety regarding the political situation in Europe. The threat of war with Germany was something she would rather forget for the time being at least. This journey was the start of a fortnight’s holiday for herself and Adele. They would be staying with their favourite aunt and uncle in Oxford, and one of the highlights of the trip was an invitation to the May Ball with their elder brother, David. Meg had been looking forward to it for weeks.
A particularly spiteful gust of wind whipped her long blonde hair into a tangled mass, and she brushed a strand from her eyes. She knew that the sensible course was retreat to the comfort of the saloon, but the hint of danger offered by the stormy sea was a definite challenge and she was not about to admit defeat. Clinging to the handrail, she could not resist a second look at the mysterious stranger who seemed oblivious to the fact that he was getting soaked by the clouds of spray. He appeared to be staring into the bow waves lost in a world of his own. He must, Meg thought, have something extremely pressing on his mind, or he would have realised that this was not the safest place to be. She took a tentative step forward just as the vessel hit a trough between the waves. Her feet skidded on the wet planking, and she found herself flying across the deck. ‘Look out,’ she cried in an attempt to warn the man for whom she was heading helplessly and at breakneck speed.
He turned just in time to catch her before she pitched headlong over the railings into the turbulent water. He set her back on her feet. ‘That was a near one. Are you okay?’
‘Yes. I think so. Or at least I will be when my heart stops pounding. I didn’t realise it was so rough or I’d have stayed below.’ She eyed him curiously. ‘I know you, don’t I? You’re Gerald LeFevre.’
He met her gaze with a smile of slowly dawning recognition. ‘Meg Colivet? Good Lord. It must be four years or more since I last saw you. You were just a kid then with pigtails and freckles.’
She pulled a face. ‘Don’t remind me. You and David were always teasing me. You were really mean to me then, but I forgive you.’
‘How is David? I haven’t seen him for ages.’
‘Well, I think. He’s not the best correspondent in the world, but I’m on my way to see him now.’
‘Remember me to him. We had some great times when we were younger.’
‘You were both mean to me,’ Meg said, smiling. ‘You wouldn’t let me join in your games. You said I was a little pest.’
He grinned. ‘I wouldn’t say that now. You’re a very attractive young lady, but one with suicidal tendencies, I suspect. Coming out on deck in this weather wasn’t perhaps the most sensible
thing to do.’
Another large wave combined with a cross-current made the ship yaw and Meg had to clutch his arm in order to save herself from falling. ‘I needed some fresh air.’ She was forced to shout in order to make herself heard above the din of the water plashing from the paddle wheel and the throbbing of the engines. ‘But I think I’ve had enough of it for today.’
He slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. ‘We’d better go below. I don’t know about you but I could do with a nice hot cup of tea.’
Clinging on to him, Meg nodded wordlessly and they made their way slowly and with difficulty towards the companionway.
The saloon was packed with disconsolate passengers, some of them looking decidedly green, others deep in conversation apparently oblivious to their surroundings. Gerald found them a table and Meg slid onto the banquette, waiting for him to return with their order of tea and cakes. She was finding it hard to equate the tall, dark-haired young man with the tousled-headed boy whose parents had worked for her family ever since she could remember. His mother, Marie, was the cook at Colivet Manor, and his father, Eric, was officially her father’s chauffeur, but Advocate Charles Colivet spent long hours in his office or in court and over the years Eric had taken on more and more responsibility for running the estate and the home farm. Meg often wondered what her family would do if the LeFevres ever decided to leave their employ, although she would never have dared mention such a thing in front of her mother. Muriel Colivet’s ideas regarding class and society were positively Victorian and set in stone. As far as Mother was concerned everyone had their place in the social order of things, and there they must stay.
Meg shifted on her seat, craning her neck to see how far Gerald had got in the queue at the food counter. He turned his head and smiled at her as if he had sensed that she was staring at him and she looked away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. He was attractive rather than classically good-looking, but she liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was amused. She decided that she approved of this new and mature version of the boy who had been her brother’s friend and playmate during the school holidays. His younger sister, Simone, had never been Meg’s favourite person but she had only occasionally accompanied her parents to work, preferring to stay in St Peter Port with an elderly aunt who undoubtedly pandered to her every whim, which was why she was so demanding and spoilt.
Eventually, and to everyone’s surprise, Gerald had been packed off to boarding school on the mainland. David had attended a public school in England, as had most of the sons of well-to-do island families, but it was unheard of for a boy from a relatively poor background to have a private education. Where the LeFevres had obtained the money for his school fees had always been a bit of a mystery as far as the young Colivets were concerned. David had been convinced that Eric had won the football pools, and Adele had suggested that a rich relation had stumped up the cash. Meg had been thought too young to have any opinion of her own.
Being the youngest in the family was definitely a disadvantage. David was the son and heir who was supposed to be studying law in order to qualify him to join the family firm, although Meg was convinced that he spent most of his spare time taking flying lessons. He had always fancied himself as Guernsey’s answer to the Red Baron, and a career in law came a very poor second. Adele’s ambition was to marry a rich man before she was twenty. She had it fixed in her pretty head that if she was not at least engaged by then she would never live down the disgrace. Estelle Plummer, who had been head girl when Addie was in the fifth form at Whitefields Academy, and Meg a humble second former, had enjoyed the grandest white wedding ever seen on the island when she had only just turned nineteen. Estelle now drove round in her very own sports car and lived with her husband in a French-style chateau overlooking Vazon Bay.
Meg’s ambitions were simpler. She wanted to leave home and earn her own living, but unfortunately she had never particularly shone at school and the only sport at which she excelled was riding. She had sometimes fancied herself as the first female jockey to win the Grand National, or an Olympic champion show jumper, but she knew in her heart that this was wishful thinking. She longed to travel and see the world outside the confines of a small island. She loved Guernsey and she loved her family, but she had always had a vague feeling that she ought to earn the privileges that her brother and sister took so much for granted. There must, she thought, be more to life than simply waiting for Mr Right to come along, which was what her mother expected of both her daughters. Addie was happy to comply and eager to settle down, but Meg felt a restless spirit urging her on to do something out of the ordinary. If only she knew what that was.
She looked up and smiled as Gerald placed a tray on the table in front of her.
‘Tea and cream cakes.’ He offered her the plate. ‘Or are you one of those girls who never eat anything but lettuce leaves?’
She selected a particularly delicious-looking éclair oozing with cream. ‘Not me. I love my food. Anyway, sit down and tell me what you’ve been doing since you left school. Are you still working in London? I seem to remember Marie saying something about it. She’s terribly proud of you.’
He took a seat opposite her. ‘Yes, I know. But mothers always think their offspring are remarkable. I’m sure that Mrs Colivet is the same.’
‘Not with me. I’m the black sheep of the family, according to Mother. Addie’s the golden girl, and David’s the white-hot hope for the future. I’ve yet to find what my place is in the grand scheme of things. I was born too late to be a suffragette and I’m not clever enough to have discovered something like radium. But I am good with horses.’
Gerald chuckled and his dark eyes glinted with golden lights: like sun pennies on the surface of the waves, Meg thought, dropping her gaze in sudden confusion.
‘I’m sure there’s a great future for you written in the stars,’ he said, pouring tea and handing her a cup. ‘As for me, I’m a humble clerk in a law firm in the City of London.’
Meg leaned her elbows on the table, facing him earnestly. ‘I envy you, Gerald.’
He was about to sip his tea but he hesitated. ‘Why is that?’
‘Because you’ve got the chance to make something of yourself. I’d give my eye teeth to be able to get a job, but my parents won’t hear of it. I can’t leave home without their permission until I’m twenty-one and I’m not qualified to do anything other than pick tomatoes or work in the stables, although I’d do that if they’d let me.’
‘But you have a lovely life, don’t you? Most girls I know would envy you.’
‘I feel such a fraud, Gerald. Idle people like me are no use to anybody. I want to make a difference in the world.’
‘You could go to university and get a degree.’
Meg almost choked on a mouthful of éclair. ‘Me? I failed almost all my exams, apart from art and English. I’d love to work in my father’s office, even if it was only filing things and making tea, but he says that’s out of the question. No, as I said, I think you’re very lucky. At least you’re able to do something worthwhile.’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m supposed to be training to be an articled clerk, but I don’t think there’s going to be much chance of that happening now.’
‘Why not?’ Meg stared at him, surprised by his serious expression.
‘We all know that there’s going to be a war. I’ve joined the Territorials and I’ll be one of the first to be called up if push comes to shove with the Germans. That’s why I spent last weekend with my folks. I needed to visit them while I had the chance. I might never see them again.’
Meg swallowed convulsively. ‘Don’t say that, Gerald. You mustn’t even think that way. Mr Chamberlain is going to sort everything out. Mother said so.’
‘Well, if Mrs Colivet thinks that, it must be right.’ Gerald’s wry smile faded into a frown. ‘I’m afraid that your mother never thought much of me. She didn’t approve of my friendship with David.’
‘Now you
know what I’m up against. Mother doesn’t approve of anything I do either. She says I should have been born a boy, and sometimes I wish I had.’
‘That would have been a terrible waste.’
She shot him a glance beneath her lashes. ‘Are you flirting with me?’
‘You’ve grown up to be quite a girl, Meg, and a very pretty one too. But I expect all the fellows tell you that.’
Honest to the last, Meg shook her head. ‘No. You’re the first, as it happens. Mother would have us girls shackled to a chaperone if she had her way. This is the first time that Addie and I have been allowed to leave home without someone watching our every movement. I’m trying to be calm and sophisticated but inside I’m bubbling with excitement. We’re staying with Aunt Josie and Uncle Paul for two whole glorious weeks, and David is going to take Addie and me to the May Ball. It may sound nothing to you, but to me it’s a huge adventure.’
‘I love your enthusiasm for life. You’re like a breath of fresh air and I hope you never change.’
She covered her confusion by selecting a chocolate cup cake. She was on foreign ground where young men were concerned, particularly ones as attractive as Gerald LeFevre. It was embarrassing to be approaching her seventeenth birthday without having had a boyfriend. Addie had managed to slip through the net quite literally by joining the tennis club, which their mother considered to be socially acceptable. What she did not know was that Adele attended parties at her friend Pearl Tostevin’s house where they drank exotic cocktails, smoked cigarettes and danced to gramophone records playing jazz music. She realised suddenly that Gerald was speaking to her. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?’
‘I said I wish we had more time together. I’d love to get to know you better, Meg.’
