We'll Meet Again (22 page)

‘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.’

His smile was infectious and she struggled with her conscience. In the end curiosity won and she opened the oblong jeweller’s case. Inside on a bed of black velvet was a single strand of tiny, irregularly shaped pearls. She held it up, allowing the necklace to hang from her fingertips.

‘Marguerite means pearl,’ he said anxiously. ‘I’m no expert but I was told these are river pearls. I thought it was appropriate.’

She looked up and met his worried gaze and she realised that he was watching her reactions with a degree of nervousness that she had not seen in him before. He had always appeared confident and in command of every situation. Now he looked like a schoolboy in need of reassurance. She could not have rejected his gift even if she had wanted to. ‘It’s very appropriate,’ she murmured, smiling. ‘It’s quite beautiful.’

‘It is very important to me that you like it.’ He leaned towards her but the sound of approaching
footsteps made them draw apart. Corporal Klein ambled into the kitchen, snapping to attention and saluting when he saw his superior officer.

Rayner returned the salute. ‘You’re late on duty, Corporal. Hauptmann Dressler wants his coffee, now.’

Meg thrust the necklace into her pocket, and without saying a word she seized the saucepan and hurried from the kitchen. She clutched the hot handle, barely noticing that it was burning her fingers as she carried the pan to the morning parlour. Rayner’s gift had thrown her off balance and she was in a state of utter confusion. She smacked Pip’s hand as he attempted to grab the saucepan. ‘Simone first,’ she said sharply. ‘She’s eating for two.’ She helped Simone to the porridge. ‘Anyone else, apart from Pip?’

Bertrand gazed longingly at the pan and then at his empty plate but a sharp nudge in the ribs from Maud made him shake his head. Meg could easily have eaten more, but as Pip was the only one who was holding out his plate she pushed the pan towards him. ‘It’s all yours.’ She sat down to finish her coffee.

As soon as the meal was over, Meg and Gerald handed out the small presents they had tied to the branch of a fir tree that they had lopped off and stuck in a pot. They had painstakingly decorated it with some of the family hoard of baubles and tinsel that had graced the huge Christmas trees in the past, and it made a bright splash of colour in the drab room. Meg had searched around amongst her belongings
and had managed to find something for everyone. She had wrapped them carefully in white tissue paper tied with scraps of ribbon from her mother’s work basket.

Simone stared at the Sarkstone brooch that had been one of Meg’s favourites when she was younger. She mumbled a thank you but her dark eyes were resentful and she made an excuse to go to her room. Marie turned to Meg, her face puckered with concern. ‘You mustn’t mind Simone. It’s her condition. She doesn’t mean it. She really appreciates what you’ve done for her.’

‘So she should, Mother,’ Gerald said, frowning. ‘Simone would probably have ended up in a German brothel if Meg hadn’t brought her home.’

‘And you’d be in a prisoner of war camp if we didn’t risk our lives covering up for you.’ Pip tapped the side of his nose, grinning.

‘That’s enough of that,’ Charles said angrily. ‘Remember that it’s Christmas Day and we all depend on each other. I expect everybody to be ready for morning service at eleven o’clock sharp.’ He caught his breath as a paroxysm of coughing rendered him temporarily speechless. He took a sip of cold coffee. ‘Don’t forget, eleven o’clock and no excuses.’

The church was freezing and the sermon was long but the islanders sang loudly and defiantly, casting resentful glances at the German officers seated with
the non-commissioned men. Meg could hear their voices, loud and strident, singing in broken English. It was ironical, she thought, that the men who were at war with her country were singing Christmas carols and joining in a service of worship with the very people they were oppressing. As the congregation filed out of the front pews Meg saw Rayner standing amongst the group of officers. She avoided meeting his gaze as she walked out of the church with her father leaning heavily on her arm.

The feeble rays of the winter sun had filtered through the skeletal branches of the trees, melting the early morning frost. A few traces of snow remained in the deep shade but otherwise it could almost have been a spring morning. Snowdrops poked their heads above the soil and a blackbird warbled his song from the branches of a yew tree nearby. Charles stopped to listen courteously as two of his elderly tenants claimed his attention and Meg hovered by his side. She knew that Rayner was somewhere close behind her but she forced herself to stare straight ahead. She slipped her hand through her father’s arm and waited for him to finish his conversation.