The Guernsey Saga Box Set

by Diana Bachmann

  Lying, listening to Sarah explaining how she cooked tiny, wrinkled potatoes over bits of burning greenhouse timber in the sitting room fireplace, and bought seawater from a tank on a handcart because there was no salt and the public were no longer allowed on the beaches to collect their own sea water, Sue was able to picture it all in detail and understand her mother’s worries about feeding her family, especially little Richard; no wonder her hair had turned white, and Dad had become so thin.

  Sarah passed on some of the details to Greg, at night when they were in bed. “Poor child. At least we had each other and Richard, she had no one.”

  “No wonder she came to centre her affection on David,” Greg whispered. “She had a big void to fill in her heart.”

  “Yes,” Sarah sighed. “I dread her going off to live in Wales again, especially now we are getting to know each other so much better.”

  “Do you reckon she’ll be able to go, after this accident?”

  “Not for some time, according to ‘Uncle Joe’. I dread to think how she’ll react if she is told she has to wait more than year.” Sarah reached up to switch off the light. “Anyway, I don’t believe she has dared think about that, yet.”

  *

  Sarah was wrong. Sue had thought about David, the effects of her injury on her job prospects, and the additional waiting time involved. She had also noted the ever lengthening times between his letters, though he had written very promptly on hearing about the accident.

  The next letter didn’t arrive for an interminable two weeks and the one after that took four, by which time she was up and about, walking quite normally though she tired very quickly. She was watching through the sitting room window as the postman, draped in oilskins, hurried up to the front door through driving rain. The envelopes were wet as she picked them out of the letter cage behind the door and sorted them, and her heart leapt as she recognised David’s writing.

  “Post!” she called, carrying the bills into the kitchen.

  “Hm,” Sarah grunted. “Doesn’t look very interesting.” She glanced up from the teapot and saw the happy grin on Sue’s face. “Though I imagine yours is?”

  Sue waved the envelope triumphantly. “At last!”

  “Good! Want a cup of tea?”

  Alone in the sitting room, Sue settled back in an armchair, carefully slit open the damp envelope then took a few sips of tea before allowing herself to become immersed in David’s letter.

  Her grin soon became a frown.

  ‘. . . and so after a great deal of investigation and discussion, Dad has decided to take the job offered in Canada.

  The initial contract is only for two years, so Mum and Dad won’t sell the house, just let it, until we decide whether we want to remain there. The firm says they will provide a place in college for me there, which is very exciting, don’t you think?’

  No! She did not think it at all exciting! Disastrous, more like. She shook her head in disbelief. What on earth was he thinking about, contemplating setting off to the other side of the world without even speaking to her about it. About them. And they were supposed to be engaged . . . well, unofficially. She scanned the remaining pages, then reread the whole letter, twice.

  “Your tea has gone cold, Sue,” Sarah pointed out when she stuck her head round the door. “Nice letter?”

  Sue stared up at her, her face a mask of misery. “No.”

  “Darling! What is it?”

  Sue told her. “And apart from starting ‘My Darling Sue’, saying they would return in a couple of years at least for a holiday and he hopes we’ll see each other then, and ending ‘with all my love’,” Sue stared into her lap, twisting the pages, “he doesn’t mention anything about us.” The only scrap of comfort lay in the fact that since the accident she and her mother had become close enough for her to talk about David more openly.

  Sarah tried to be practical. “Well, you are both very young to be thinking about a joint future. Though this move to Canada need not necessarily mean a break-up, it could give you the chance to meet other nice boys, over here.”

  It was not what Sue wanted to hear but she bit back the retort on her lips, accepting that Sarah meant well. She got up and wandered across the room to gaze out at the rain. Two whole years! And no mention of their future! Suddenly she felt angry: how dared he treat her like that? Where was his loyalty and commitment? “Yes,” she swung round to face Sarah. “You’re right, Mummy. I’m not going to sit around moping for the next two years! I’m going to enjoy myself!”

  *

  Post-war Guernsey was full of social fun and laughter. Ten thousand young islanders had joined the British forces and now many were being demobbed, returning to the island in their Government issue de-mob clothes with post-war gratuities burning holes in their pockets. The local British Legion and RAF Clubs were fast enrolling new members; tennis, badminton, cricket, soccer and athletic clubs were swinging into action. The Guernsey Amateur Dramatic and Operatic Society, whose few remaining members had kept going during the war with willing new recruits as The Regal Players, was bolstered anew with dozens of would-be actors and an army of enthusiastic stagehands, scenic and make-up artists; the Choral and Orchestral Society produced concerts. There were dinners and balls, and the cocktail bars did a thriving trade.

  Felicity Warwick had been at school with Sarah and remained a firm friend, despite the five years’ separation during the war. She had returned with her husband Gus and daughter Anne, to restore their home at L’Ancresse after Todt workers had left it uninhabitable. Sue was her goddaughter; she visited her frequently after the girl’s accident, and now, knowing that Sue’s activities were still restricted by ‘Uncle Joe’, asked if Sue would give her a hand with the wardrobe for the next GADOS production. Sue was dubious, especially when she realised that a great deal of sewing was involved, but being extremely fond of Aunt Filly, and with time on her hands she agreed to ‘have a go’. At first the sewing and dressmaking lessons seemed tedious, but Filly’s natural sense of fun and ebullience soon took over and Sue was well pleased with her achievements as well as enjoying herself.

  The biggest bonus proved to be social. She found herself amongst a large group of new friends, young and old, and enjoyed meeting a crowd of people slightly older than herself, who had recently been demobbed. Norton and James had been in the army; Penny was in the WAAFs and Tiny, large, fat and jolly, whose father was a well-known local hotelier, had been an army cook. Sue was fascinated by their casual repartee, their cameraderie and their acceptance of everyone as equals. James, at twenty-one, was youngest, and Penny, who had risen to sergeant, was twenty-five and oldest. Their dry, straight-faced humour was puzzling at first, but soon she was joining in the ribbing, giving as good as she got.

  Seeing the leading lady in costume and make-up for the first time, Tiny remarked to her that in the semi-darkness of the auditorium she looked reasonably attractive.

  Unfortunately, the fact that the lady did not appreciate the accolade had an explosive effect on Sue, who was adjusting the hem of the gown. “Oh dear, it must be the dust on the floor,” Sue apologised, turning the explosion into a sneeze. Then she accidently caught James’s eye and had to ‘sneeze’ again.

  The end of play party, attended by everyone concerned in the production, turned into a near riot, once the older and stuffier members had left. “Always improves once we are down to the nucleus,” James remarked. “Now we can get down to some serious drinking.”

  “Well I’m afraid we have to go, now,” Filly said.

  “Oh, must we?” Sue complained.

  “Certainly not,” Tiny insisted. “The party’s just beginning.”

  “I promised Gus I’d be home before midnight,” Filly told him, “And—”

  “How tiresome. Never mind, Sue isn’t married to Gus,” Tiny put a persuasive arm round Filly’s shoulders, “She can stay and we’ll see her safely home.”

  “Super! That’ll be okay, won’t it Aunt Filly?”

  “
Come on, Aunt Filly!” James joined in. “Don’t be stuffy. Sue’ll be safe with us!”

  Filly snorted. “That I doubt!” But she gave in with a grin.

  *

  Christmas and New Year were fabulous, followed by a wonderful eighteenth birthday party with her new crowd of friends. Sue was ecstatic: her parents approved of ‘the crowd’ – they all came from suitable backgrounds – though Greg and Sarah had no inkling of the level of liquor consumed nightly. They raised a slightly admonishing eyebrow when Sue produced a packet of Balkan Sobranies from her handbag, and lit up, but as the happy atmosphere in the house prevailed they agreed to do nothing that might disturb it.

  They also agreed that there was safety in numbers. “It is amusing to see so many different escorts bringing her home each evening,” Greg remarked, “Even if it is sometimes rather late.”

  “True. But I think we should insist on her being home by eleven,” Sarah suggested.

  Greg grimaced. “Or eleven-thirty, perhaps?”

  “Before midnight,” Sue said persuasively when the subject was broached. Which was finally agreed.

  The very next day Norton announced yet another demob party. “It’s for Jonathan Martel. He’s just come out of the Royal Navy. Arrived home yesterday.”

  “Where will it be?” Sue asked.

  “At the Palm Court. Want a lift?”

  For her birthday, Grandma and Aunt Aline had given Sue a gorgeously sophisticated cocktail dress in shot, turquoise silk taffeta with a swathed, off-the-shoulder top and princess-line waist flaring to a full, ankle-length skirt. Sarah thought it was far too grown-up and low-cut for her and guessed, correctly, that her mother had had no hand in choosing it, but short of a massive family row there was no way to stop Sue wearing it to the party. Sue also wanted to put her hair up, but not wishing to push her luck too far, simply curled it and swept it back with combs to the nape of her neck.

  “You look terrific, old girl,” Norton commented as she got in the car.

  Sue knew it was the best she had ever looked but was still delighted when even Penny, in her mannish pants suit, gave a nod of approval.

  Jonathan was leaning on the bar counter as they walked in, listening to someone talking in the group round him.

  “Here we are,” Norton announced. “Sue, this is the rogue we’ve all been telling you about. Jonathan, this is the infant we’ve taken under our wing.”

  Jonathan stood to attention, held out his hand and shook his head, solemnly. “My dear Sue, I hope we meet in time for me to save you from the clutches of this horrible crew. They are not to be trusted, you know, especially with beautiful young ladies.”

  Sue quickly summed up the soft blue eyes under long dark lashes, the sun-bleached hair slicked back with Brylcreem and exquisitely chiselled features, weathered bronze. She felt the strong, slender fingers grasp her hand, and equally solemnly replied, “Jonathan, you don’t know the half of it. Night after night I have battled for my honour, just waiting for you to arrive and protect me.”

  Tiny snorted and the rest exploded as Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up. “That bad! My dear, come to Uncle Jonty,” he put an arm round her shoulders, “He’ll fend them off.”

  It was a lovely party. A sort of on-going party, in that day after day arrangements were made to congregate at somebody’s house, or in yet another cocktail bar.

  “What do you all do every evening?” Sarah asked her bleary-eyed daughter who was slumped over a late breakfast.

  Sue smiled happily. “Talk about the war and what we’ll do now. Play bar billiards or liar dice. Eat, drink and be merry!”

  “You must bring some of them home, sometime. We’d like to meet them.”

  “Of course. Sometime.” Though she couldn’t imagine what for. Mum and Dad didn’t drink much. Or play liar dice. They wouldn’t relate to the fast service repartee. Good grief, they were almost a different breed altogether. Their world revolved at a totally different pace. Anyway, no one else’s parents were ever introduced.

  But, she had to admit, there was an even stronger reason to put off bringing them home. Back in her bedroom, sitting at her dressing table, Sue searched her reflection for a clue to her new problem. Opening the top drawer she stared down at David’s latest letter and repeated the question in her mind. How could the feelings she had for David possibly be true and eternal love, when the mere sight of Jonathan had such a violent effect on her, both mentally and physically. When his glance, his smile, sent waves of weakness down her thighs. It was a reaction which Sarah would instantly recognise . . . yet how, being so old, could she hope to understand?

  Sue lay in the bath, easing the ache in her back. She couldn’t get Jonathan out of her mind; pictured his lean, sensitive face in repose, when he was unaware anyone was watching. For all his bravado, laughter and joking, she guessed there was probably a shy, sensitive man underneath.

  Sarah was not a fool. She watched her daughter go out that evening, hair immaculate, a little too much make-up but studiously applied, wearing a smart dress and jacket she had made herself with a bit of help from dear Filly, and she knew the effort was not for a mere, casual friend. Then, a week later when their long-time friends Ted and Julia Martel came round for an evening’s bridge, Julia remarked that Ted’s brother’s boy, Jonathan, recently demobbed from the Royal Navy, had been asking a lot of questions about Sue.

  Sarah closed her fan of cards. “What sort of questions?”

  “‘Did we know of her?’ ‘What’s her family like?’ ‘Has she a steady boyfriend?’ The usual sort of things.”

  “Are you going to take this trick, sweetheart, or spend the rest of the evening gossiping?” Greg demanded.

  Sarah obliged, played a small Club, then grinned at Julia. “What did you tell him?”

  “Very nice girl. Charming family but totally committed to a chap called . . . David. Right?” Julia played the nine.

  “Er . . . yes. Well, not totally.”

  Greg frowned at his hand and threw the Jack, which Ted promptly covered with the Queen. Greg’s frown deepened. “As soon as this rubber is over, I suggest you girls go off into the kitchen to yatter while the kettle’s boiling.”

  Julia put a hand over her mouth, signifying silence.

  *

  “I’ll go into the hotel business,” Jonathan said, in answer to Sue’s question. “Mother has this great barn of a house where she rattles around like a pea in a drum. She says she’d be happy to move into the old cottage beyond the paddock, if it were done up a bit.”

  They were sitting in his MG overlooking Lihou Island, trying to fend off the freezing draughts whistling in through gaps in the canvas top. It was the first time he had asked her out, “just for a spin”, and their conversation was politely stilted.

  “Have you had any experience or training in hotel management?”

  “I’ve had a year of keeping things ship-shape below decks. That should be sufficient, I imagine.” He had risen to Sub Lieutenant.

  Impressed by his confidence, Sue was sure he was right.

  A week later he kissed her, long and tenderly . . . and next day he phoned to apologise. “Terribly sorry about that. Shouldn’t have had that last ‘one for the road’. Quite made me forget myself. Hope you weren’t offended?”

  “Why are you sorry?” She had enjoyed it; it was only the apology that offended her.

  “Well, I mean, you already have a boyfriend, haven’t you?”

  Sue took a deep breath. “Had. But that was over some time ago.” Like two and a half minutes?

  “I’m taking Toby for a walk,” she called to her mother as she dragged on her coat and boots, hoping the cold sea air at Bordeaux would clear her head. The gale tore at her headscarf and flattened the dog’s ears against his neck as they stood above the shoreline watching breakers bursting into clouds of spume over the rocks. It wasn’t hard to analyse her feelings. It was simply a matter of fitting all the pieces of life’s jig-saw into place. And suddenly they all did fit
, very neatly. Fate, God or whatever, had obviously taken a hand. Her accident had seemed like a major tragedy at the time, yet it had brought her a much closer and more comfortable relationship with her parents. Still, the problem of split allegiance, between her family and Guernsey, or David and Wales, had remained. Her parents had told her often enough how sad they would be if she left the island, and what a pity it was she had a Welsh boyfriend. Then Fate removed David to the other side of the world. She had been so miserable, left behind, pining for him . . . failing to understand the obvious. Now it was all so clear. Jonathan, not David, was the man intended for her. Her dearest, darling Jonathan. Mummy and Daddy liked the family and he was a nephew of their great friends. Now, at last, the puzzle would be solved.

  *

  Jonathan proposed three weeks later and Sue had no hesitation in accepting. She had sensed it coming and had quickly written her ‘Dear John’ letter to David, convinced he would be relieved; he had never shown much enthusiasm for a permanent alliance.

  “Darling, that’s wonderful. But you are only eighteen,” Sarah responded cautiously.

  “And Jonathan hasn’t got a job, yet, has he?” Greg said.

  “Oh yes. He’s going into the hotel business.”

  “Really! Well I would like him to come and see me to discuss it before we give our official approval.”

  “Daddy! That sounds so old-fashioned!”

  Fortunately Jonathan didn’t share her opinion. “Of course I must see him. I only spoke to you first to be sure you wouldn’t be repulsed by the idea!”

  The bucket seats in his car were not designed for lovers, but Sue managed to get her arms round him and indulge in a prolonged kiss. “I’m not entirely repulsed,” she assured him.