We'll Meet Again (12 page)

“I suppose that is possible …”

“They’re up to all sorts of things nowadays. There’s some funny people about. The lights were out your way. You ought to remember that, so you could keep a special guard.”

“But…” I began.

“Well,” she went on, “you’ve got that German girl up there. Can’t be too careful these days.”

“You can’t mean …”

“Well, she’s a German. You can’t trust any of them. Little Hitlers, the lot of them.”

“Gretchen!” I cried. “Oh, but that’s absurd. She hates Hitler and his regime. He has ruined the lives of her family.”

“Well, that’s as may be, but once a German always a German.”

I knew from the past that once Mrs. Pardell had made up her mind, there was no changing it. I was deeply disturbed, for I guessed she was not the only one who would be suspicious of Gretchen. Her accent betrayed her and since the flashing lights episode, which as had been observed, had come from Tregarland’s way, they would say: That German woman is there.

After that I was aware of people’s attitude towards Gretchen when we went into the Poldowns together. Sly looks were cast her way.

This was ridiculous. I could only hope that Gretchen was not aware of it. But I could see there was an inevitability about it. The people wanted to suspect someone, and naturally they looked to Gretchen.

This was confirmed when I made the discovery through Bert Trimmell.

I came across him one day, sitting on a stile near the home farm. He had been doing some little job Gordon had given him. Both boys liked to work on the farm, particularly among the animals.

He looked mournful, even near to tears. I paused and said: “Hello, Bert. What’s wrong?”

He hesitated for a moment and then said: “Nanny Crabtree don’t like us anymore. Will she send us away?”

“Good gracious, no. She would never do that. She really does like you very much.”

“She don’t like Charley. Charley says she could send us away.”

“She would never do that. We wouldn’t let her, and she wouldn’t want to either. It’s just that she doesn’t like fighting and Charley wouldn’t tell her why he had done it when she has said he was not to.”

“Charley didn’t think he ought to tell her, did he?”

I was used to the phraseology of the boys. They would ask confirmation of facts of which one could know nothing. They were not really asking, I realized. It was just a form of speech.

“To tell her what?” I asked.

“What he was fighting about.”

“Why?”

“’Cos he didn’t think it was right, did he?”

“What didn’t he think was right?”

“To tell ’er. He said there was some things you had to keep quiet about.”

“Bert, please tell me. I promise that, if it is something which I shouldn’t be told, I won’t tell it.”

He paused for a moment, then he looked at me squarely.

“All right,” he said. “It was that boy, wasn’t it. He said there was a traitor in our ’ouse. She was a German spy and she was sending messages to them Germans out there.”

“Yes,” I said faintly.

“Well, Charley said it was a lie, didn’t he? There wasn’t no traitors in our ’ouse, and then he gave him that black eye, didn’t ’e?”

“I see. So that was what it was all about.”

“Charley didn’t ’arf give him a going over,” Bert giggled. “Charley would give him the same over again if he said anything about anybody in our ’ouse.”

“I see. Bert, I think I ought to tell Nanny Crabtree.”

“Charley won’t like it. He’ll go on at me for telling.”

“I think Charley will like it. It was a good thing he did. I am going to tell Nanny. Then I think she will like him … like him very much. Charley need not be unhappy anymore.”

Bert was silent for a moment, then he said: “All right. You’ll know, Miss.”

I went to Nanny Crabtree at once.

“Nanny,” I said. “I’ve discovered why Charley was fighting.

“The young imp,” said Nanny. “After I’d told him I’d have none of that here.”

“I think you’ll change your mind when you hear. Some boy was saying that Gretchen was a spy and was sending messages out to sea. Charley wouldn’t have that. He wouldn’t have anyone saying anything against anyone in this house.”

Nanny Crabtree’s face softened into a beatific smile.

“And he had a fight with this boy because of that? Silly lad. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He seemed to have some idea that you wouldn’t like it to be mentioned.”

“Well, well, what would you do with them then?”

“So it was rather a noble act,” I said.

“What goes on in their minds, bless ’em. I’m going to give him my sweet ration, that’s what.”

I put my arms round her and hugged her. Nanny loved sweet things and her sweet ration was rather important to her.

After that, Charley knew he was forgiven.

I said to Nanny: “I am so pleased. It shows, doesn’t it, that he thinks of Tregarland as his home?”

“More of a home than he had back with those parents of his. And that Aunt Lil. I don’t much like the sound of her.”

“Yes,” I said. “He feels he has to defend us all. It means, Nanny, that he looks on this now as his home.”

We had a caller at the Priory. He drove over one afternoon when I happened to be in the gardens getting some flowers for one of the rooms, so I heard the car arrive and went to see who it was.

A tall, pleasant-looking man in the uniform of a captain alighted from the car.

“I wonder if I could see Mrs. Jermyn,” he asked me. “My name is Brent.”

“I am sure you can. Do come in.”

I took him to a sitting room on the ground floor and asked one of the maids to tell Mrs. Jermyn that we had a visitor.

“A lovely place you have here,” he said. “Highly suitable for your convalescent home. It is that I have come to see you about really.”

“We have had visits from the authorities and from the hospital. That was when we started.”

“Yes, I know, and everyone is delighted about what you are doing. I’m actually an army doctor. My captain’s rank is complimentary. I thought you might allow me to call occasionally to see the men who are here. Many of them, although they are physically well enough to leave hospital, have suffered grueling experiences and need special care.”

Mrs. Jermyn arrived. They shook hands and he said: “I’m James Brent—attached to the medical staff. I have been explaining to Miss …”

“Denver,” I supplied.

He smiled. “… to Miss Denver that we want to keep an eye on some of the men. They have been through some shattering ordeals and we want to make sure they’re all right. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I called from time to time … just to see that all’s well. There are one or two who have given us cause for anxiety.”

“But, of course, you are welcome at any time,” said Mrs. Jermyn.

“We think you are doing a wonderful job here. Those few weeks of recuperation are just what the men need.”

Mrs. Jermyn smiled with pleasure.

“It seems such a small thing to do at such a time.”

“It is all the small things which add up. I was saying to Miss Denver here what a lovely place you have. Ideal for the rest these men deserve and need. I suppose you have always lived here, Mrs. Jermyn.”

“Oh yes. It’s the ancestral home. I came here when I married. The family has been here for three hundred years. It belongs to my grandson. He …”

“He was with the forces,” I heard myself say. “We were hoping he would come back from Dunkirk …”

“Miss Denver is his fiancée,” said Mrs. Jermyn quietly. “We feel …”

“There are a lot of our men over there,” he said quickly. “Quite a few of them were taken prisoner.”

“It is the not knowing …” began Mrs. Jermyn.

“I am very sorry. But it does not do to give up hope.”

“That is what we tell each other,” I said.

“And you are helping in this enterprise, Miss Denver. If you could hear what some of the men are saying about you all, you would feel it was very rewarding. And you have several helpers, I believe?”

“Oh, the servants have thrown themselves wholeheartedly into the project, haven’t they, Violetta?” said Mrs. Jermyn.

“Indeed yes.”

“And you have other young ladies here to help you?”

“I have three helpers,” said Mrs. Jermyn.

“I should like to meet them and express my appreciation.”

Mrs. Jermyn looked at me. “They would be around somewhere, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll ask Morwenna to bring them. I am sure they would be delighted to meet you, Captain Brent. They will so enjoy hearing that the men have been happy here.”

“Just tell me a little about them first, would you?”

“There is my sister, Mrs. Tregarland. She is a widow. She was married to young Mr. Tregarland. It’s the big house just along the cliff. She has a young child and we are twins actually. We have been together most of our lives.”

He nodded, smiling. “And there is another young lady, I believe.”

“That is Mrs. Denver.”

“Oh? She is related to you?”

“Well, it is a little difficult to explain. She married … a sort of adopted brother. My mother took him when he was a baby and he was brought up mainly by my grandparents.”

“Would they be the people who made such an excellent job of turning their home into a hospital during the last war?”

“Yes. Marchlands, my grandparents’ home. Briefly, my mother was at school in Belgium in 1914 and she found a baby who had lost its foster parents. She brought him to England. He took our name of Denver. Mrs. Denver is his wife.”

“Is it true that she is German?”

“Yes. She is Jewish. Her parents and brothers may be dead. We don’t know where they are. They were persecuted by the Nazis.”

“That’s very sad, and she is helping here now?”

“She is of great help,” said Mrs. Jermyn. “Tell Morwenna to bring them here if she can find them, Violetta. Then they can meet Captain Brent.”

I did so. Dorabella was the first to arrive.

“Dorabella,” I said. “This is Captain Brent. He has come to see some of the men here. Captain Brent, my sister Mrs. Tregarland.”

They shook hands and I saw Dorabella’s eyes brighten. Captain Brent was, I supposed, attractive, and she was as susceptible as ever.

He told her how much the men enjoyed their time with us and what good it had done them.

“So our efforts are not in vain,” she said lightly.

“Far … far from it.”

Gretchen had come in. She looked slightly flustered and a shade fearful. She had been uneasy since she had been aware of people’s suspicions, and her accent became more pronounced when she was nervous.

“Captain Brent has been paying us some nice compliments,” said Mrs. Jermyn. “He wants to compliment all those who have been taking part in our venture.”

“That is goot,” she said.

“It must be hard work looking after all these men.”

“We enjoy it,” I said.

“Are you staying near here, Captain Brent?” asked Dorabella.

“For a while. I move around, you see.”

“I see. And I understand you will be visiting us now and then to make sure everything is going well.”

“That’s the idea. It will be a great pleasure for me.”

“And for us,” said Dorabella.

The days passed quickly. Summer had gone and November was approaching. Captain Brent had paid several visits to the Priory, and I knew Dorabella enjoyed these.

One morning Gordon came to breakfast when I was there. He was working very hard and we saw little of each other. He was short-handed and was very much concerned with what was now known as the Home Guard. The Prime Minister had thought this a more appropriate title than the Local Defence Volunteers.

Gordon said that he had a spare few hours during the day and he proposed to go into Bodmin. He wondered if I could take the time off to accompany him. He wanted to look at a couple of bicycles which he proposed to get for Charley and Bert.

“They have done so many little jobs on the estate and they are so keen,” he said. “They really have been a help and they need some way of getting round the country. I think this would suit them very well.”

“It is an excellent idea!” I cried. “They will be delighted.”

He looked at me rather pleadingly. “I see so little of you nowadays,” he said.

“We are all very busy. When do you propose to go to Bodmin?”

“Tomorrow … or the next day.”

“I’ll tell Mrs. Jermyn and I’ll see if I can shift some of my duties.”

The next day we set out.

Gordon made this journey frequently to visit his mother, and I was wondering whether he was thinking of her as we drove along. I supposed he could not fail to.

I felt I had never really known Gordon. From the first moment when I had come to Tregarland, he had aroused certain misgivings in me, but he had behaved admirably always. The prosperity of Tregarland’s was due to him and his mother could not have had a more devoted son.

On arriving in the town, the first thing we did was find the bicycles. I was so pleased that he had thought of this, for I could imagine the joy on the boys’ faces when they saw them. It was a very kind and thoughtful gesture on Gordon’s part.

We decided to stow the bicycles in the car and have lunch. There was an old inn Gordon knew on the edge of the moor; it was not far and after that we should have to go back.

I had gone to an inn on the moor once with Jowan, and I was not sure whether I hoped it would be the same one or not. Memories could be painful, and yet I felt a constant urge to go back into the past.

The place Gordon and I lunched at was called the “Inn on the Moor” and it was quite new to me. There were not many people in the dining room and we found a secluded table.

Due to the war, it was difficult for the host to find dishes with which to feed his guests, and instead of the traditional roast beef, such a feature of the past, there was meat roll. The meat was conspicuously invisible, but it was tasty enough with beans and vegetables to supplement the beef, and there were roast potatoes as well. We drank cider with the meal.

Gordon talked about the Home Guard and the difficulties of running the estate in wartime, but I guessed his mind was on other matters.