We'll Meet Again (19 page)

That night she dreamt about the May Ball; she was dancing with Rayner but he was wearing German uniform and Hauptmann Dressler and Captain Grulich were sitting at their table. Captain Grulich jumped up and dragged her away from Rayner saying that this was his dance. He held her very close and he began to kiss her – Meg woke up in a cold sweat to find Buster licking her cheek, his big brown
eyes shining in the moonlight. She stroked his dark coat and let him nuzzle her face. Wagging his tail, he leapt onto the bed, curving his warm body against hers.

Grulich continued to haunt Meg, both in her dreams and during her waking hours. His malignant presence seemed to follow her whether she was working in the fields or in the greenhouses, and the feeling of being constantly under surveillance was beginning to make her nervous. Buster was her shadow and her protector; his hackles rose and he growled deep in his throat whenever he sensed that Grulich was near. Although Meg was grateful for this, it also terrified her when she saw the way Grulich looked at the dog. She feared for Buster almost as much as she feared for Gerald.

Meg was in the kitchen helping Marie peel vegetables one warm afternoon late in September when Gerald burst into the room, grinning from ear to ear and holding up a basket of wild mushrooms.

‘Look what I’ve found, Mother.’

‘Mother?’ Grulich stood in the doorway, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

Meg stared at him in horror. She opened her mouth to speak but her tongue seemed to have stuck to her palate.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Gerald blustered. ‘I said Marie.’

‘I know what you said, and if this woman is your mother then you are not David Colivet. I have
suspected there is something not quite right for a long time.’

‘No, you misheard him. He said my name.’ Gripping the paring knife in her hand, Marie squared up to Grulich, but Gerald caught her by the wrist.

‘This is between me and Captain Grulich.’

‘You are mistaken,’ Grulich said tersely. ‘This is a matter for Hauptmann Dressler.’

‘This is simple a misunderstanding,’ Meg said earnestly. ‘David is my brother.’

Grulich’s lip curled in disbelief. ‘Tell that to Hauptmann Dressler.’

‘I demand to see Major Jaeger,’ Meg said, defiantly.

‘This has nothing to do with Meg.’ Gerald stepped in between them as Grulich took a step towards her. ‘Leave my sister alone.’

Marie whipped off her apron. ‘We will all go and see the major.’

For a moment Meg thought Grulich was going to refuse, but he turned on his heel and marched out of the kitchen uttering a curt order to follow him.

Fortunately for them all it was Major Jaeger who was working alone at Hauptmann Dressler’s desk. He listened to Grulich with an impassive expression on his face before turning to Gerald, who said that he sometimes referred to Marie as ‘mother’ but it was simply a family joke. He lied so competently that Meg eyed him with newfound respect. Major Jaeger
dismissed the whole episode as nothing but a trivial misunderstanding, and Meg realised that the major disliked Grulich almost as much as she did. But the flash of cold hostility in Grulich’s eyes as he grudgingly stood aside to let them pass sent icy fingers of fear to clutch her at her heart.

Although he could not prove anything, Grulich made it obvious that he still suspected Gerald. He was compelled to clean the latrines and muck out the stables every morning. He was given all the filthy back-breaking work, which included clearing up the mess left behind when the soldiers went off to carry out their daily duties at Jerbourg Point. Meg continued to do a man’s work in the fields, and at least this was something of an escape from the leering glances and innuendo to which Grulich now treated her. He had improved his English enough to make himself understood and she shivered with unease every time he came near her. He would brush against her, insinuating his face close to hers, if they happened to come across each other in the house. She suspected that he lay in wait for her, but however vigilant she was there was barely a day that passed without some incident between them.

She dared not tell Gerald in case he lost his temper and physically attacked Grulich. Telling her father was not an option either. She worried constantly as she watched his physical condition gradually worsening beneath the strain of working on the controlling committee and the nightmare of living
with the enemy. He looked so frail these days. His veins stood out like blue ropes beneath a parchment-like skin and he seemed to be retreating into an inner world where Meg could no longer reach him.

As winter set in early and the days grew shorter, Captain Grulich only allowed the family enough wood to light a small fire in the morning room. The house was always cold and everyone began to suffer from chilblains and bronchitis. Charles’ chest condition worsened and he spent weeks in bed with a recurring low-grade fever that left him weak and listless when it had run its course. During a particularly bad bout of fever, Major Jaeger gave permission for Dr Gallienne to visit him. At the end of the consultation Meg took him into the parlour and gave him a cup of roasted barley coffee. It was nothing like the real thing, but tasted better than the version made from acorns. ‘He will be all right, won’t he, doctor?’

‘Your father needs complete rest and a nourishing diet, but I’m afraid that’s a luxury we’ve all been deprived of, and he’s working too hard for a man of his age. I’ve advised him to stand down from the controlling committee, certainly while the bad weather lasts. Perhaps he can think about it again in the spring.’

Meg stared at him in horror. ‘Do you really think the war is going to go on that long?’

Dr Gallienne squeezed her hand. ‘I hope not, Meg.
But I can’t see a quick end to it. We get snippets of information from people who have managed to keep their radio receivers but it’s a dangerous game. The Germans put spies in the food queues to listen to conversations, and if anyone appears to have outside information they are arrested on suspicion of owning a receiver. What with that and house to house searches, as I said it’s a dangerous game.’

Meg was silent for a moment, thinking how tired he looked and how, since she had last seen him, the lines seemed to have been etched on his face as if someone had drawn them with a sharp pencil. They had all changed so drastically during the last sixteen months; she had only to look at herself in the mirror to realise that. The young carefree Meg no longer grinned impudently out at her. She barely recognised her reflection nowadays; it was a thin stranger who stared back with serious blue eyes that looked too large for her pale face.

‘You look exhausted, my dear.’ Dr Gallienne laid his hand on her arm and his red-rimmed eyes behind the thick lenses of his spectacles shone with sympathy. ‘You must take care of yourself too. I know that Charles depends upon you entirely.’

She nodded and swallowed hard. She had grown used to hiding her feelings behind a tough façade that fed on hatred for the Germans, but this unexpected sympathy made her want to cry. She longed to confide her worries in someone, but she dared not tell Dr Gallienne that Pip’s crystal set had
put them all in mortal danger, or that she suspected Gerald of having joined the group of saboteurs who were rumoured to be causing a great deal of annoyance to the German High Command. Before she had a chance to speak, the door burst open and Grulich strode into the room.

‘The staff car is waiting to take you back to the hospital, Herr Doctor, but Major Jaeger wishes to see you in the office before you leave.’

Dr Gallienne handed his empty cup back to Meg with an encouraging smile. ‘Goodbye, my dear. Take care of yourself.’

She watched helplessly as he left the room. Grulich closed the door slowly, giving Meg a look that seemed to strip her naked.

That night, finding sleep impossible, Meg sat on her bed, staring out of the window at the moonlit garden. Miraculously the Germans had not touched the sweep of lawn at the front of the house, confining their activities to the land at the rear. In the cold silver moonlight it was almost possible to imagine that everything was as it had been before they invaded the island, but out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw a movement. Peering into the shadows she became aware of a male figure creeping stealthily through the bushes. Instinctively she knew that it was Gerald. It was certainly not Pip, and whoever it was knew exactly where the guards were posted and how to leave the grounds without using
the main entrance. She slid off her bed and crept out of her room, pausing on the landing to listen for sounds of movement downstairs, but the house was darkly silent. She tiptoed to the foot of the staircase that led up to the old nursery and the servants’ rooms and, avoiding the stair that creaked, she crept to the upper floor where Gerald had a small room next to Pip’s. As she had suspected, the room was empty and his bed neatly made up. With her heart thudding uncomfortably inside her ribcage, she made her way back to her own room. Buster leapt up, wagging his tail enthusiastically. She climbed into bed, allowing him to jump up beside her. She whispered soothing words until he was calm again and he slept, snoring gently. She kept watch until just before dawn when she saw a grey ghost of a figure heading towards the house. Minutes later she heard the creaking of a floorboard, and opening her door just a crack, she saw the back of a man disappearing up the stairs that led to Gerald’s room.

It was not until much later that day that she found Gerald alone in one of the greenhouses scrubbing down the staging ready for planting next year’s crop of tomatoes. She glanced over her shoulder but there was no one in sight, and the soldiers were unlikely to return from Jerbourg Point until evening.

‘Meg.’ Gerald’s face creased into a pleased smile.

‘Well, are you going to tell me what you’ve been up to?’

‘What?’

Weary from lack of sleep and bristling with nervous tension, she gave him a straight look. ‘Don’t act all innocent with me, Gerald LeFevre. I saw you last night. I want to know where you’ve been going.’

‘You don’t need to know, Meg. It’s safer if you don’t.’

‘You’re involved in something dangerous. I know that much.’

‘I can’t tell you what it is. If we’re caught then you’d be in danger too.’

‘You’re doing some sort of resistance work. That’s got to be it.’

‘Leave it at that, Meg,’ Gerald said, scrubbing viciously at the wooden staging.

‘Please tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help. I’m sick of being cooped up here and having to kowtow to the bloody Germans.’

He threw down the scrubbing brush and seized her in his arms. Caught off guard, Meg allowed herself to give way momentarily, opening her lips and sliding her arms around his neck as he almost devoured her with the intensity of his kisses. Even as she abandoned herself to the heat of his mouth on hers, his tongue teasing, tasting, probing until she was faint with desire and the hardness of his body almost crushing the breath from her, a small voice somewhere in her head screamed at the madness of what they were doing. She wrenched herself free, struggling to regain control of her drowning senses.

‘We can’t do this.’

‘Meg, I love you, I always have. I can’t go on pretending to be your brother when every moment I’m with you is torture.’

His eyes burnt into hers and she almost weakened. She had felt so alone and his arms wrapped around her had been wonderfully strong. His need for her had been absolute and the temptation to give in was almost unbearable. One word from her, one half-smile, one tender look and she knew they would both be lost; there would be no turning back. Her traitorous knees trembled and her heart pumped wildly; she could smell him, taste him, and her body screamed out with desperate need. His breath was sweet on her face, his eyes opaque with desire as his hands slid down her buttocks.

‘No.’ She pushed him away. ‘You’re going to get us all shot, you idiot.’ Even to her ears her voice sounded harsh, but fear of discovery and its consequences forced her to be cruel. ‘I’ve told you I don’t love you and this time you’d better believe it.’

He shook his head slowly. ‘You’re lying.’

‘And you’re a stubborn fool.’ She folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself protectively. ‘I care about you, of course I do, but I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you.’

‘You wanted me as much as I want you.’

‘Stop it, Gerald. I shouldn’t even be here talking to you now. If Grulich finds out he’ll have it in for you even more.’

‘Why did you come then?’

‘I wanted to know where you’ve been going in the middle of the night and what you’ve been doing.’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘I just hope you know what you’re about, that’s all.’ Unable to bear the reproach in his eyes, she turned her back on him and walked away. She heard him call her name but she strode on with Buster racing on ahead. She picked up a stick and tossed it into the middle of the newly ploughed field. He tore after it barking joyfully. A sudden staccato crack of gunshot rang out, and Buster dropped to the ground.

With a scream of pain as if the bullet had torn into her own flesh, Meg raced across the field and threw herself down on the dark earth beside Buster. Crying and calling his name she ran her hands over his silky black coat and felt the hot sticky trickle of blood, but at her touch he lifted his head and his pink tongue lolled out as if he was attempting to smile and reassure her. Staunching the flow with her cotton headscarf, Meg saw with a sob of relief that the wound was superficial and the bullet had merely grazed the flesh. It was a nasty gash but not fatal. As Buster struggled to get up, she raised her head and saw Grulich standing on the edge of the field, holding a gun in his hand. He saluted her casually, turned his back and walked towards the house. A red mist fogged her vision. She forgot everything except her loathing for the man who had been making their lives hell. He had tried to kill her beloved pet and she was beside herself. Leaping to her feet she raced after him. He had reached the stable yard before she caught up with him. ‘You bastard,’ she cried. ‘I could kill you.’