We'll Meet Again (32 page)

“She think it good I come. And Monsieur and Madame Greenley … they say we take. They are good …”

Jowan was clearly bewildered, and Mrs. Jermyn said: “You’d better sit down. Violetta, will you ring for more cups and perhaps some fresh tea?”

The Greenleys said they would not stay. They really had to get on.

“In the circumstances … we thought we should bring Lisette,” they said.

I had by this time noticed something about the girl. She was very young and there was that slight thickening of the figure. Could it really be that she was pregnant? If so, why had she come here? Perhaps her mother had thought it would not be good to have a child in present-day France, but why … ?

Lisette was explaining in her broken English. “I am going to have a little baby.” She smiled dazzlingly at Jowan. “Yours … and mine.”

There was silence in the room. Jowan was stricken with amazement. Mrs. Jermyn had turned pale.

Then Mr. Greenley said: “Well, if you will excuse us, we’ll be off. We promised Lisette’s mother to bring her here and we have done so. Goodbye.”

I roused myself and said: “I will show you down.”

Mrs. Greenley turned to me when we had left the room and said: “I think this is rather a shock to you. But, of course, the poor girl needs to be looked after, and it seems only right.”

“I think there must have been some mistake …”

“These things happen. Apparently the young man stayed at the farm. Marianne had been good to our men all through the war. She saved many of them from capture and imprisonment … death most likely. It is a poor reward to seduce the daughter. The girl is only sixteen. So it’s only right that something should be done about it. Marianne was really distressed and, when Lisette said who was responsible, we thought the young man should be aware of it. So we promised to bring her with us … and so, here she is.”

“This can’t be true,” I insisted. “It must be someone else.”

“She knew his name and where he lived. It seems it was so.”

I was glad when they had gone.

I went back to the solarium.

Jowan was saying: “It’s impossible, Lisette. You know it is. You know there was nothing …”

“Oh, but yes,” she insisted. “You were ill and I come to comfort. And then I am in bed with you … all through the night. I am there … not one night only, I make you very ’appy. I did not think this would be … but it is …”

“It was
you,”
murmured Jowan disbelievingly.

“Yes … and we have the little baby. I say to my mother, ‘Jowan, ’e is rich man … good man. ’E will look after little baby.’ My mother say it not good to have a baby in France now. Not enough to eat … not good. There must be father for baby.”

Jowan was stricken, as we all were. Only a short while before we were thinking how happy we were. I could not believe it. And the girl was only sixteen. Yet he had been there. He had told me of that incident with the mother. It seemed it had not been the mother but the daughter.

And this was the result.

Our consternation and bewilderment were great. We could not believe this which had suddenly been thrust upon us. Jowan was astounded.

“It is not possible,” he kept saying. “You cannot believe this.” But remembering what he had told me, I thought it was just possible, and so did he.

Mrs. Jermyn was practical about the matter.

She knew that Jowan had stayed at the farmhouse after his escape; she knew that this young girl had been there. Even she believed that it was possible.

She busied herself with details. The girl must be looked after. A room was made ready for her. If her story were true, we must do our duty by her, she said.”

As for Lisette, she showed no great concern. It was clear that she was excited and was enjoying the situation in which she found herself. The house overlooking the sea was a delight to her, and she seemed to view this as a great adventure.

“Thees beautiful ’ouse,” she said. “This will be my baby’s ’ome. Oh, darleeng Jowan, we will ’ave our little baby. He will be big and strong like you.”

She giggled a great deal and then I began to notice there was something strange in her attitude which mystified me. That frequent, high-pitched laugh—was it a little nervous? Once I found her laughing to herself and, when I looked closely, there were tears in her eyes.

I said: “What are you laughing at, Lisette?”

“I laugh because I am ’appy. My baby will live in this
grande maison.
It is very good.”

“You are not really happy though, are you?” I insisted.

She looked scared for a moment.

“I very ’appy. It makes me ’appy to have my little baby who will live in this
grande maison.
” She added almost defiantly, “That makes me ’appy.”

I wondered what was on her mind. She was too young to conceal her thoughts successfully. She was not yet seventeen. She would remember little of what it was like before the war, I guessed. It was now over five years since it had started. Children grew up quickly in such times. She would be wise in certain matters, though ignorant of other ways of life.

I felt sorry for her in spite of the trouble she was causing us. She alternated between moments of deep satisfaction and a certain desperation. At times she was like a sleek cat, sophisticated in the extreme, yet at others she was like a scared kitten.

On more than one occasion I tried to probe her inner thoughts.

I said: “You are not really happy, Lisette. You are worried about something.”

She opened those sloe eyes very wide and shook her head. Her protestations of her happiness were too vehement to ring entirely true.

Mrs. Jermyn, deeply disturbed as she was, continued to make plans.

“What are we going to do about this child?” she said. “It’s a most extraordinary situation. The mother saved your life and the daughter is threatening to ruin it. But we won’t let that happen. We shall look after her until the child is born and, if necessary, keep it. I think she has some idea of marrying you. Quite out of the question. We shall see that she is all right. Money, of course. She could go back to France and we will look after the child.”

I often thought how easy it was to settle other people’s problems, and I am sure Mrs. Jermyn knew that as well as anyone. As she spoke, she made it seem a simple matter. We would send Lisette back to France, compensated; the child would remain and we would try to forget what Mrs. Jermyn purposely called, to give it less substance, “this unfortunate matter.”

We were all miserable. Jowan could not bear to look at Lisette and every time he did so I could see the incredulity in his eyes. He had to accept the fact that it was possible that, in a moment of oblivion, he may have become the father of Lisette’s child, and yet he could not believe it.

It could have happened as Lisette said and there was to be a child. Nothing could alter that.

In the circumstances, we could not proceed with our wedding plans. We lived uneasily through those days.

It was difficult to know what steps had been taken.

In the midst of all this, I heard from Richard. The divorce had gone through. It had all been accomplished speedily and unobtrusively as no objections had been raised and it was desired by both parties.

I need have no fear on that score.

It seemed of no great importance now.

One morning a letter from Buster Brown arrived. Jowan showed it to me. It was written in a large scrawl.

Dear Captain,

Here I am and glad to get your letter at last. Must say, I’d like to see that home of yours. What a time we had, didn’t we?

I’m at Lark Hill now. They’re giving me duties at home for a while. I could come on Wednesday. Stay a couple of nights if that would be convenient to you. I expect you’ve got room for a little ’un.

It will be good to see you. Your humble servant,

Buster Brown

Jowan was cheered at the thought of seeing him, though I could see he was thinking about the difficulty of explaining the situation regarding Lisette.

He drove to the station on the Wednesday morning and came back with Buster.

I ran down to meet them. Buster was exactly as Jowan had described him—of medium height, rather wiry with dark hair and lively eyes, and a smile which appeared frequently and gave a comical and endearing look to his face.

“You’re Miss Violetta,” he said. “Have to say I’ve heard about you.”

We took him into the hall. He gazed at the vaulted ceiling and his eyes ranged around. He stared in wonder at the tapestries on the walls.

“Blimey,” he said. “Never seen nothing like that before.”

“They belonged to my ancestors,” said Jowan.

Buster was about to say something when Lisette appeared on the staircase. Buster stared at her and she at him. Buster opened his mouth, and I believe he controlled some expletive.

Lisette had turned pale.

Then I heard her say in a somewhat stifled voice: “Bustaire.”

She ran to him and flung herself at him.

“Here,” said Buster. “Steady.”

“Oh, Bustaire … Bustaire,” she cried.

Buster held her tightly and gazed over her shoulder at Jowan.

“Lisette is staying here,” said Jowan.

Lisette was crying and laughing, clinging to Buster.

“You ’ave come,” she cried. “I knew you come. You ’ave come for me.”

It was salvation.

Lisette had exhausted herself with emotion and we told her she must rest, for the sake of the child.

Buster explained to us what had happened.

“This is a real turn-up for the troops,” he said. “I come to see you, and find Lisette here.”

He went on: “You know how it goes? We was there and she was young and the fruity sort. It was natural that we took to each other. We got up to tricks. Just human nature, after all. Then you and me went off. I often thought about her. Nice kid. Needs a bit of looking after, and I’m tickled pink about the little ’un.”

I realized that Buster had difficulty in taking life seriously.

“You see, sir,” he said to Jowan. “This ain’t none of your business.”

Jowan explained how Lisette had arrived with English people who had brought her from France with them.

“They were determined that justice should be done and she had told them I was the father of her child.”

“Cor, what a nerve! You wasn’t never near her.”

“It was difficult. There were times when I had been unaware. There were times … Marianne …”

“She was a real one for coddling the boys. She had a way with her. Made you feel you was a little ’un again. She’d slip in beside you and give you a cuddle. True, she wouldn’t be above a little bit of fun. But Lisette, no … she kept an eye on her. We had to pick our times, I can tell you. And we did.”

Buster looked rueful.

“I reckon that kid’s mine,” he went on. “Do you know, I rather fancy a nipper—half Lisette … half me. I reckon that’s a mixture hard to beat. I’ve been thinking. It’s time I tied myself up with a bit of trouble and strife and now, well, there would be this nipper …”

I found myself laughing spontaneously for the first time in weeks.

During Buster’s two days’ stay he made up his mind. He was going to marry Lisette. He was fond of her. She was a “dainty little piece,” he said, and he’d look after her. Crafty little box of tricks, too.

“Coming over here like that and blaming you. Well, you can understand that. Just imagine how Marianne would have gone off when she heard. Frighten the life out of the kid. What’ll the priest say, and all that. It’s all right to have these little flings as long as there’s no result. Poor kid! She knew a lot about you. Remember how you used to talk? Lapped it up, she did. She’s told me, she didn’t know what to do. She never thought she could find me, so she hitched on to you. Well, I could do worse. I couldn’t sleep at night if I let her down.”

We could not make enough of Buster. Mrs. Jermyn took a great liking to him, apart from the fact that she regarded him as our savior from a really very uncomfortable situation.

“You must come and see us when this wretched war is over,” she told him.

“I’ll bring the wife and kid,” he said.

Mrs. Jermyn made rapid plans. They should be married from the Priory. They could put up the banns and be married in three weeks.

“Then,” added Mrs. Jermyn practically, “Lisette’s condition would not be so very noticeable.”

They could have their honeymoon at the Priory.

She was so grateful to Buster for appearing when he did—like the god out of the machine—that she wanted to shower him with blessings. She forgave Lisette for her deception because she knew what a desperate situation she must have been in, and it was so fortunate that that nice Buster had come along and sorted the whole thing out.

It was an incongruous relationship between her and Buster, but they seemed to understand each other and she was immensely entertained by his method of expressing himself.

As for Jowan and me, life had become wonderful again.

There was a double wedding in February of that triumphant year of 1945. Jowan and I were to have a week’s honeymoon in Devon while Lisette and Buster were guests of Mrs. Jermyn.

It was all rather amusing, and to crown it all the papers were writing about the final defeat of Germany and our Prime Minister was going to meet President Roosevelt and Marshal Stalin at a conference at Yalta.

It was a wonderful honeymoon, more so because of the ordeals through which we had passed to reach it. The weather was somewhat wintry but we were together. There was a new hope in the world. No longer did we have to listen to the warning wails of the sirens. In his inimitable manner, Field Marshal Montgomery had told his men that we had our opponent where we wanted him and he would now receive the knockout blow.

There was no doubt that the end of our tribulations, suffering, and anxiety was near.

In May of that year Lisette’s baby was born. Buster was very proud and excited. He and Lisette were in London now where they had set up house. Buster was still in the army, of course, but he was planning to resume his calling as an electrician as soon as he was free to do so.