Читать книгу The German Nurse - M.J. Hollows - Страница 17

When he was walking home he couldn’t help thinking that he hadn’t seen Johanna since before the invasion. She had sent word to the police station that she was all right, but he longed to see her with his own eyes. When they had first met, almost two years ago now, they would spend their evenings together as often as possible, talking about everything and nothing all at once. That was before the war had come and changed everything. Since the attack he felt her absence more keenly. She had come to the island to escape her past, she had said, but now she was desperately trying to find work as a foreigner.

He was reminded of their early days together when he passed Creasey’s department store at No. 9 High Street and spotted the window display. There were a pair of sapphire shoes in the window that Johanna had pined over when they had last been there. He looked at the price and sighed. There was no way he would be able to afford them on a policeman’s wage, not unless he saved up for some time. With the war going on and now the occupation, he didn’t know whether spending all his money was a good idea. He wondered what would happen to their money and the banks now that the Germans had taken over. Part of him thought that it didn’t really matter anymore, their lives as they knew it were over, all they could do now was take care of themselves, while the other part of his brain told him the only way through it all was to stick together.

He entered the department store through the double doors and was immediately amongst the goods they sold, everything he could think of from musty-smelling leather clothing, to hat boxes and luggage. The shop had prided itself on selling everything the Islanders needed all in one place, and the inside of the store always filled him with wonder. Unfortunately he didn’t get many chances to come here, except for the few times when Johanna and he were together, so now he walked amongst the racks and rows, taking it all in.

As he passed one counter a staff member looked up and spotted him. A smile broke out across her face and Jack mentally prepared himself for a sales pitch, but it didn’t come.

‘Jack Godwin,’ she said, still smiling. ‘What brings you in here?’

She stopped what she had been doing and placed it to one side. It took Jack a long moment to fully recognise her. It had only been a couple of months since he had last seen her, and it was amazing how much someone could change in that time. ‘Madeleine?’ he asked, uncertain. Her face had filled out since he had last seen her, and the shop assistant’s dress made her look older. Her blonde hair was cut shorter than when they were children.

‘For a second there I thought you didn’t recognise me.’

Madeleine and Jack had first met as toddlers at the same school and, while he would never call them firm friends, they had always been close. He felt a wave of something pass over him, like butterflies in his stomach. He had had feelings for her then, but they had only been children. ‘I could never forget you, I just didn’t expect to see you here. I didn’t know you worked here.’

‘You charmer you,’ she said, waving a hand idly in his direction. ‘It’s nice to see that one of us hasn’t changed.’

She placed a hand on her stomach and for the first time Jack noticed the swell there. It had been hidden behind the counter, but as she stood up it was easier to see. He noticed the wedding ring he hadn’t spotted before.

‘Congratulations,’ he said, forcing a smile onto his face. He was genuinely happy for her, but the shock had caught him off guard. He had never really considered that they were old enough to have children, nor thought about marrying Johanna himself, not really. He didn’t know Madeleine had been seeing anyone, nor had he yet mentioned Johanna to her, even though they had been together for a couple of years now. Something held him back. He wished she was here now – she would know what to say – but Maddy seemed to guess the questions running through his head.

‘Thank you,’ she said, all smiles. ‘It’s all a bit sudden. But then isn’t everything right now? My husband’s in the army. He wanted me to go with him, but I had no one to go to in England and I couldn’t leave my family. You know how it is?’

Jack nodded. None of them wanted to be refugees in England, with nowhere to go and no jobs, and they couldn’t leave their families behind. He smiled, unsure what else to say.

‘Well, good luck with everything.’ The words stumbled out. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Disgraceful!’ The woman’s voice came from nearby at another counter, shrill and raised above the level appropriate for inside conversation. It was a voice Jack recognised well, and he closed his eyes for a second, sighing, before he turned around. At first Jack thought she had been referring to Maddy, but Mrs Fletcher was talking to another young woman at the other counter. The woman was clearly trying to finish something whilst doing her best to show interest in the customer. Jack nodded at Madeleine and went over to see if he could defuse the situation. He knew that Mrs Fletcher wasn’t fond of him, but then she wasn’t particularly fond of anyone.

Mrs Fletcher was one of his neighbours, and he would often spot her staring out of a window, observing everything that went on in St Peter Port. She had a face that he could only describe as being full of hate. He could never imagine the sag of her jowls creasing into something even approaching a smile and her beady eyes behind her glasses always stared as if in silent judgement. Only her judgement was seldom silent. The dress she wore looked as if it would have been the height of fashion during the last war, but was now considered impractical and uncomfortable. Even though she made a point of presentation and appropriate etiquette, her mousy blonde hair always seemed as if she had mislaid her hairbrush, no matter how hard she tied it back. It was no wonder she was unhappy as the ravages of age took their toll, but was there really any need for her to be so mean to others?

‘What’s that you’re working on?’ he asked the shop assistant when he got to the counter. She had a needle and thread in one hand, while the other hand held a piece of material down on the desk. She was dressed in a similar manner to Madeleine, but with brunette hair that fell around her shoulders. Jack didn’t recognise her. Even though the island was small, Jack didn’t know everyone by name.

On the other hand, Mrs Fletcher recognised him immediately, her cold eyes fixing on him. She interrupted just as the assistant was about to speak, ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said. It wasn’t a question, but more of an accusation. ‘Have you seen what this girl is doing?’ she asked, but continued before he could say anything. ‘It’s disgraceful, that’s what it is.’

Jack raised his voice a little to make sure that he was heard, but not loud enough that she could accuse him of shouting at her. She had done that before. ‘What is she doing, Mrs Fletcher? I’m sure she’s just doing her job – isn’t that right, miss?’

The woman nodded at him, apparently unable to find the words.

‘Have a look for yourself, go on.’ She thrust a thin finger towards the material. ‘Disgraceful,’ she muttered.

Jack moved so that he could subtly manoeuvre himself between Mrs Fletcher and the assistant. This time he spoke in a more calming tone. He was used to adjusting his manner as a policeman, and some people needed a gentler touch. He smiled, trying to give her the sense that this was between them and to ignore the Fletcher woman, but it was hard to express all that in a smile.

‘What’s the problem?’ he asked, being deliberately vague so that she could give her version of events. The assistant hesitated, looking over his shoulder and then tried to form the words, but they only came out in a stutter. ‘Take your time.’

She nodded, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She smiled and then found her words. ‘I’m one of the seamstresses here at Creasey’s.’ She almost struggled on the esses but managed to compose herself. Jack nodded. She started unfolding the material so that she could show him what she was working on. ‘I’ve been asked to make a flag, see? A German chap came in here and asked for it specifically. They said he was the commander or something.’

She held up the red material for him to see and he finally realised. She had been stitching a white circlet in the middle of the flag, and the black cross of the German Reich lay next to it to be attached when she was ready.

‘Well?’ Mrs Fletcher butted in, and Jack had almost forgotten she was there. He couldn’t help but agree with her, but there was no way he was going to say that out loud. ‘Shouldn’t your lot be doing something about this kind of thing? Make her stop.’

Jack resisted the urge to sigh. What exactly was he ‘supposed’ to do about the German invasion of Guernsey? They could hardly stand up to an army, and it was apparent that elements of the German invasion force were already making themselves known on the island.

‘I can no more make her stop, than you can, Mrs Fletcher.’ She looked as if she was on the verge of trying, but Jack made his presence felt between the two of them. ‘The Germans have occupied the islands, and we will have to accept that. As for this flag here, there’s nothing illegal about it. They have been paid for a service and they are providing one. The assistant here is just doing the job asked of her by her employer. If the German Kommandant wants a new flag made, then there is nothing I or any other policeman for that matter can do about it. It is his right as new commander of the island, as it is any customer’s right to receive the service they have paid for.’

‘Then what are we paying you for? Exactly whose side are you on?’

It was a question he had heard a thousand times before from many a disgruntled person, either being arrested, or wondering why the police refused to arrest them. Did the Fletcher woman really want him to put that poor girl in jail for doing her job? If that happened, then who would be next?

‘I’m a policeman,’ he said. ‘I’m on the side of the people.’

Mrs Fletcher made a ‘hmphh’ sound, somewhere between a hum and a tut. When he turned, she had marched to the main door and was reaching for the handle. Nodding at the shop assistant and throwing a smile back in Madeleine’s direction, he headed to the door as well. He wanted to make sure that the Fletcher woman wasn’t going to cause any more trouble. When he stepped onto the pavement outside the department store, she was nowhere to be seen. The few people going about the town eyed him warily as they passed. Jack wondered whether everyone had stayed at home and bolted their front doors to keep away the Germans. If they had, they couldn’t stay like that forever.

He realised then, that he had forgotten the shoes he had gone in for. He looked at the door of the department store, but he couldn’t face seeing Madeleine again, let alone admitting that he had forgotten what he had gone in for. He would just have to pop in again another day, but then maybe Madeleine would think he had gone back to see her. He no longer had feelings for the woman, they had grown apart since they were younger, but it was still awkward, and he felt a certain sense of betrayal towards Johanna for even being in the same room as an old flame. He would have to find a time when she wasn’t working.

The shoes wouldn’t be going anywhere, and he could always surprise Johanna another time. He thought of the joyous look she would give him when he gave her the gift, and he smiled as he walked away from the store.

*

Further along High Street on the corner that intersected with The Pollet, Jack was stopped by a scene that made his heart stop. A group of men walked along the street in his direction, tall men wearing pristine grey uniforms with rifles slung on their shoulders. They were calling to each other in German and cheering when they saw a local. Jack took a step backwards without realising. Part of him, some ancient instinct he barely had control over, wanted to run away, to be as far away from them as possible. Their very presence was intimidating, like the boys who had run the schoolyard. He forced himself to stand firm. He would not run.

If this was the invasion, then it was tame compared to what Jack and the others had expected. The bombing of the island and the harbour had been a horrible tragedy, bringing about completely needless deaths, but it had felt distant, even to Jack. Yet he had expected a proper invasion to be closer, more frantic, full of the sounds of gunfire and explosions ripping past him as he tried futilely to defend his home.

Instead, they walked past, some of them flashing smiles at the few locals who were around. They smelt like the British soldiers, but much, much stronger. Gun oil, boot polish, and a weird perfume that he couldn’t quite place. They talked German softly between themselves as some broke off from the group to enter the shops and others stopped in pairs to smoke. The clean white cigarettes gave off a different colour of smoke than the local variants and only added to the feeling that these men were different, somehow alien.

They were shopping as if it was normal, as if they were locals going about their business, rather than invaders. Jack wondered whether it was all part of their plan, to act normally and build confidence in the local population. He couldn’t feel anything but contempt for these men, even though he didn’t know them. He needed to go to the police station, warn them that the rest of the German soldiers had arrived and were treating the town as their own. He looked around himself to see if any of them were watching, and then like a criminal he slunk away down the back streets to advise his superiors.

*