We'll Meet Again

by Lily Baxter

  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.

  CHAPTER NINE

  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.’

  Pip lifted out a strange-looking piece of equipment with wires sticking out of it at odd angles. He began to fiddle with switches and a round dial and suddenly the thing began to make high-pitched noises and then crackles and finally they heard a voice. ‘This is London calling.’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Charles said, glancing nervously at the closed door. ‘Turn it down,’

  ‘It’s a crystal set! By golly, well done, Pip.’ Gerald leapt up and slapped Pip on the back.

  ‘Do you mean we can actually listen to the BBC?’ Meg craned her neck so that she could see the small object in Pip’s hands. It didn’t seem possible that this odd-looking thing could be a radio receiver.

  ‘Yes. I made it all by myself.’

  ‘I told you all he’s a genius with electrical things,’ Jane said triumphantly.

  Meg was genuinely impressed. ‘That’s terrific, Pip. Well done. Now we’ll know what’s going on first hand.’

  Charles reached across the table and snatched the radio from Pip’s hands. He switched it off. ‘Do you realise just how dangerous this is? Men have been executed for sending carrier pigeons to the mainland and for cutting telephone lines. What do you think the Germans would do if they found a radio in your possession?’

  ‘Then they mustn’t find it, Pa,’ Meg said, taking it gently from him. ‘Pip’s been clever enough to make it. Surely we can find a safe place to hide it in a house this size?’

  ‘I agree.’ Bertrand nodded emphatically. ‘We can’t go on like this day in and day out without knowing what is happening in the rest of the world.’

  ‘All right,’ Charles said slowly. ‘If that’s how you all feel, I’ll leave it to you to find a safe hiding place, but make certain it is absolutely secure.’

  Meg replaced the crystal set in the shoebox and gave it back to Pip. ‘I don’t think they’ll bother Pip. The Germans seem to think he’s the Guernsey joke, so let’s keep it that way.’

  Pip clutched it to his chest. ‘They think I’m stupid, but I’m not.’

  ‘You’re very, very clever, Pip. I always knew you were,’ Jane said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a kiss. Pip pulled a face and wiped his cheek.

  ‘It was clever of you,’ Charles said, rising stiffly to his feet. ‘Clever but dangerous and don’t forget it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my study.’

  When the door closed on him Meg nodded to Pip. ‘Get the BBC again if you can, but keep the volume down low in case Grulich is snooping around outside.’

  Although the family was never told what was going on, it seemed as though Hauptmann Dressler’s troops were engaged in some sort of engineering or surveying work. Every morning they left in convoy and came back at dusk. In the daytime there were just the normal guards at the entrance checking everyone who went in and out. Meg had kept Buster close by her side when she was out in the fields and never let him roam round the house, ever since the day he had wandered into the kitchen and Corporal Klein had threatened to shoot him. When she complained to Major Jaeger his face had assumed the shuttered, blank expression that he adopted when repeating Dressler’s orders. ‘If the animal gets out of control once more, Miss Colivet, he will be shot. Do not let it happen again.’

  After that, Buster always slept at the foot of Me
g’s bed and when she took him out in the morning she kept him on his leash.

  Winter closed in and Christmas came and went with no sign of a let-up in the fighting abroad. If anything, Charles told Meg in one of their rare quiet moments alone, the way that the Germans were building defences around the coastline made it look as if they were planning a long stay. Dangerous minutes spent listening to the BBC on Pip’s crystal set brought news of the terrible blitz on London and the major cities on the mainland and of the intense fighting in North Africa.

  Dressler’s rules and regulations became stricter and more difficult to follow. It was almost impossible to go through a day without someone accidentally doing something that Captain Grulich was only too pleased to report to the Hauptmann. Punishment usually came in the form of something physical such as labouring in the fields, cleaning the stable yard or forfeiting their meagre bread ration for a day or even several days. Meg rebelled inwardly but her stubborn streak grew tougher with every passing day. She struggled to keep a calm and passive outward appearance, but the humiliations, injustices and hardships thrust upon the family raged inside her. She despised Dressler and had a sneaking respect for the gentlemanly Major Jaeger, but she loathed and detested Grulich. Humourless, ambitious and cunning he watched every move, trying to find fault and eager to report the smallest misdemeanours direct to Dressler rather than Major Jaeger. His pet victim was Gerald and Meg observed with growing unease that Grulich followed his movements with the persistence of a bloodhound.

  On a pearly June morning before the cooks had risen to start preparing breakfast for the men, Meg crept out of the house to take Buster for his morning walk. The early mist had not yet burnt off and the cobbled stable yard glistened beneath the filtered rays of the sun. Meg could feel the warmth bouncing back from the cool stones as she trod softly, not wanting to attract attention to herself.

  The pleasure gardens had been totally destroyed and the flowerbeds had been turned into vegetable plots. The latrines stank where once mock orange and buddleia had scented the air with their sweetness, and her mother’s favourite magnolias had been felled and used for firewood. Even so, the morning was glorious and the birds sang their hearts out in the surrounding trees, creating an illusion that everything was right with the world. When she was far enough away from the house, Meg let Buster off his lead and he ran down to the lake barking excitedly as a moorhen flew up with a distressed cry to lead the intruder away from her nest.

  Meg stopped and shielded her eyes, gazing across the water. The summerhouse had been one of the first casualties of the occupation. The soldiers had knocked it down to build their first campfires and all that remained now was a rectangular concrete base almost concealed by nettles and ivy. She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the fresh summer air. All too soon the peace would be shattered by reveille and the thump of heavy boots as the troops began yet another day.

  She called Buster to heel, and reluctant to give up the precious moment of freedom she retraced her steps to the house. With an eerie feeling that she was being watched, Meg looked up at the windows gleaming in the sunlight. A curtain fluttered at an open first floor window but she could not see anyone. It must have been her imagination, she thought, but the uncomfortable feeling persisted even after she had gone indoors and locked Buster safely in her room. As she made her way to the kitchen, hoping that she would get there before Corporal Klein, she remembered that it was market day and it was her turn to go with her father in the official car. She would have the morning to do her shopping, taking their ration books into the few shops that remained open, but even then there was unlikely to be much on the shelves. At least it gave her a chance to get away from the house and perhaps see a few familiar faces in town.

  She finished her shopping earlier than planned. Even after purchasing their rations of meat, tea, sugar and butter her basket was not over full, and it was hard to feel optimistic when passing the long queues for bread and skimmed milk. She realised with a pang of guilt that these anxious people, who waited so patiently for so little, had to make do with what they could find in the shops. However much Meg hated the German invaders, she had to admit that the amount of farm produce that Major Jaeger authorised for their own consumption was adequate if not generous in the circumstances. She also knew that the common soldiers still ate well and the officers fared even better. She passed yet another queue of hungry-looking islanders and a bitter taste flooded her mouth. She was hungry and thirsty. Breakfast had been a bowl of thin porridge and a cup of weak tea, and that had been hours ago; she had to eat something soon or she would faint.

  She walked up the High Street towards the Pantry, a café that had managed to keep going, mainly because German officers chose to go there for their morning coffee. She had a little money left in her purse and she decided to treat herself to a cup of coffee and a bun. The sight of German uniforms had become normal and it was no surprise to find the café crowded. She edged her way between the crowded tables, apologising automatically as she bumped the chair of a young woman sitting with a German officer.

  ‘Look where you’re going.’

  ‘Simone!’

  ‘Oh, it’s you.’ Simone smiled grudgingly as her companion leapt to his feet. ‘I think you know my friend, Lieutenant Brandt. After all you did introduce us.’

  Dieter bowed from the waist. ‘It is nice to meet you again.’

  Meg forced a smile.

  Simone’s dark eyes sparkled with malicious humour. ‘Cat got your tongue, Meg?’

  ‘Won’t you join us, Miss Colivet?’ Dieter pulled out a chair.

  Meg looked around desperately. The café was crowded; either she would have to share with Simone and Dieter Brandt or she must leave. She opened her mouth to refuse but someone seated at a table in the window called her name.

  ‘Meg, over here.’ Adele’s friend, Pearl, was waving enthusiastically.

  ‘Thank you, but I’m meeting a friend,’ Meg said with an apologetic smile. She made her way to Pearl’s table and sank down with a sigh of relief. ‘Pearl, I thought you’d be in England.’

  ‘I thought you would be too. No, my silly old appendix flared up the day before everyone was evacuated and I spent three weeks in hospital. You might say I missed the boat.’

  Meg ordered coffee and a bun from the waitress who appeared suddenly at her elbow. ‘Did your parents go to England without you then? And what about Teddy?’

  ‘He joined the navy. I pray for him every night, Meg. That’s a laugh in itself isn’t it? Pearl, the atheist, devoutly praying to God.’ She took a mouthful of coffee and swallowed hard, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. ‘Wouldn’t Addie and the others have a good giggle at that?’

  Meg shook her head. She knew what it was to worry about a loved one risking his life for his country, whether it was for Britain or Germany. ‘No one would laugh.’

  ‘You’re very sweet, Meg.’ Pearl blew her nose on a lace hanky. ‘Anyway, Mummy and Daddy decided they couldn’t leave their one and only offspring on the island and so we all stayed. Why didn’t you go when you had the chance?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’ Meg was uncomfortably aware of the two German officers sitting at the next table, but the timely arrival of the waitress with her coffee and bun saved her from having to go into details. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

  ‘I’ll keep you to that. Just tell me who that girl is you were speaking to when you came into the café.’ Pearl shot a curious glance at Simone. ‘The dark-haired girl dressed like a tart, who’s flirting with a German officer.’

  ‘That’s Simone LeFevre, Gerald’s sister.’

  ‘The handsome young chap who caused a stir at Addie’s engagement party?’

  Meg broke the bun into tiny pieces and found that her appetite had deserted her. ‘Pearl, I’ve got to tell you something and you must keep it secret from everyone, including your parents.’

  ‘This sounds exciting. I’ve been so bored.’

  Meg pushed her plate away
. ‘Not here.’ She drained her coffee cup and carefully wrapped the pieces of bun in a paper napkin, shoving it in her pocket. ‘Let’s go.’

  Pearl scanned the bill left by the waitress and tipped a few coins from her purse onto the saucer. ‘I’m coming.’

  Meg walked briskly back down the High Street towards the town church where she had arranged to meet her father, with Pearl teetering along behind on her ridiculously high heels.

  ‘Right then,’ Pearl said, catching Meg by the arm and dragging her into a quiet corner by the iron railings. ‘Now tell all.’

  Glancing warily around to make sure no one could overhear, Meg gave a brief account of the events that had led up to Gerald switching identity with David.

  Pearl stared at her wide-eyed. ‘You’ve all taken a terrible risk!’

  ‘You won’t breathe a word of it? Promise?’

  ‘Of course not. But what about Simone and her German boyfriend?’

  ‘Simone may be a trollop but she wouldn’t do anything to harm Gerald.’

  Pearl screwed her face up. ‘You know what they call girls who associate with the Germans, don’t you?’

  ‘Simone can do as she pleases; it’s nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Jerrybags, that’s what they call them, and quite right too, if you ask me.’ Pearl glanced across Meg’s shoulder and waved. ‘There’s Daddy coming out of the library. Sorry, darling, I must go, I promised to carry his books for him and, poor old dear, he’s getting even more short-sighted these days. He’ll never see me.’

  ‘You’d better run then.’

  ‘Do keep in touch somehow, Meg. I’m going dotty for want of someone nearer my age than a hundred and one.’ She kissed Meg on the cheek. ‘And good luck,’ she called over her shoulder as she hurried off towards the library.

  Almost immediately the chauffeur-driven official car pulled up alongside the pavement and Charles leaned across to fling the door open. ‘Who was that girl in the ridiculous hat?’