Philippa Carr: We'll meet again

The Prime Minister spoke with all that fiery eloquence which was characteristic of him and an inspiration to us all. “Britain will never surrender,” he declared.

Our men were coming home. There was a hope in my heart that Jowan would be one of those who had been picked up at Dunkirk and brought back to safety.

And so I waited.

The days were passing and there was no news of Jowan. Dorabella said: “You can imagine the confusion. Three-quarters of a million men arriving suddenly. Of course there will be delays.”

My mother was on the telephone. She had great news. Gretchen must be told at once. Edward was home. He had been evacuated with the Expeditionary Force from Dunkirk. He was in hospital at this very moment in Sussex.

“Gretchen! Gretchen!” I cried. “Edward is home!”

She was beside me, crying: “What? What?”

“Gretchen must come home at once,” my mother was saying. “Yes, yes, Gretchen, isn’t it wonderful news?” No, she had not seen him yet. They would go to the hospital in Horsham. No, he was not badly hurt. Some little thing. Gretchen must not worry. My mother was planning practically. Perhaps we could keep Hildegarde down at Tregarland’s for the time being. Then Gretchen could come straight to Caddington and they would arrange everything from there.

Gretchen looked bewildered but blissful. Dorabella was hugging her. I was loath to let my mother go.

She was saying: “No … no news of Jowan yet?”

“No,” I replied.

“It will come,” she said brightly.

“I pray so.”

“Darling,” said my mother, “we are all with you. Let us know if there is any news … at once. Things are changing. I’m sure we’re going to get some good news soon.”

I smiled wanly. With the enemy on our doorstep? With the country on the alert for invasion? With the might of Germany facing us across a strip of water?

Still, I had to remember that Edward was home. Edward was safe.

“Please God,” I prayed, “let Jowan come back to me.”

Gretchen left that day and the waiting went on. I lifted my face to the clear blue sky and felt a vague annoyance because the world was so beautiful at this time. It was as though we were being told: this is how it could have been but for the folly of men.

Each day I waited. Where was Jowan? Had he been one of the men who had died before he could be rescued? Was he with the remains of the army who had been left behind?

Edward was not badly wounded. He had some shrapnel lodged in his right arm which had to be taken out. Then, after a brief leave which he and Gretchen could spend together, he would join his regiment in the West Country.

If this proved to be so, my mother said, it would be better for Gretchen to rejoin us so she would be nearer to him. She was sure her stay with us had done her good.

Lucky Gretchen! Lucky Edward! And still there was no news of Jowan.

How the days dragged on! Each morning when I awoke after a generally restless night, tormented by dreams which reflected my daytime fears, I wondered what the day held. Events were moving rapidly, but I was obsessed by one thing. Where was Jowan? What if I should never know! How could fate be so cruel as to show me what happiness I might have had and then snatch it away from me!

The French were fast collapsing; the myth of the impassable Maginot Line was destroyed; Marshal Pétain had asked for an armistice; we stood alone.

I was beginning to fear that Jowan would never return.

The position was grim. The Germans had control of the Channel ports and the Battle of Britain had started. We were in constant danger, not knowing from one moment to the next whether this would be our last.

Dorabella and I came down to breakfast one morning, finding Gordon drinking a cup of coffee before leaving.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “There is a possibility of enemy agents coming into the country disguised as refugees. Small boats are still getting across the Channel. We have to watch. The idea is that when these boats come in, we will examine everyone in them before they are allowed to land. It is tricky because they will, in the main, be genuine refugees, but there will no doubt be people who would do a great deal to get through. We are setting up a watch along the coast. The most likely spots will be farther east, of course, as the distance is so much shorter there. But some might try Cornwall in spite of that because it would be easier to be undetected. Anyway, we have to be prepared.”

“This gets more and more fantastic,” said Dorabella.

Gordon gave her a slightly exasperated look.

“Fantastic indeed,” he said. “And more than that. We are in acute danger, you know. We have to be prepared night and day. During the day any boats could be seen. Fortunately, there are not many places along this coast where it would be easy to land. However, the beach below this house is certainly one of them and this little stretch of coast is our responsibility. I am preparing a rota and the beach will be watched throughout the hours of darkness by two observers. You two will naturally want to do your part. With the servants and the people from the cottages around here there will be several available, so your periods of duty will not come round so frequently.”

“Certainly we shall do our share,” I said. “Tell us more.”

“We shall watch in pairs for two hours each night. Fortunately at this time of year there are not many hours of darkness. You and Dorabella can watch together. Some of the older couples can join in. It will give them the satisfaction of helping the war effort.”

Charley and Bert Trimmell wanted to be on the rota and Gordon thought it was a good idea that they should be. He had discovered that Charley was quite interested in the estate and he was giving him tasks now and then for which he was receiving small payments. He and Gordon seemed to get on very well together.

Dorabella and I quite looked forward to those nocturnal duties. It was good to have something worthwhile to do and be able to do it together.

It was one o’clock in the morning. We had been on duty since midnight and at two o’clock the next pair would come to take over.

We sat looking across the sea, talking desultorily.

“How strange life has become,” said Dorabella. “At least it’s not exactly boring. I found it so once …”

“That was when you had the urge to run away with your Frenchman,” I said.

“You wouldn’t understand. I saw life stretching out before me … year after year … the same old thing day after day. And the impulse came. Oh, no, you wouldn’t understand. Violetta would always do her duty.”

“You left Tristan,” I said. “That was what I could not understand.”

“He was only a child. Oh, it’s no use trying to explain. I thought I’d settle in Paris, and Dermot would divorce me. I would marry Jacques Dubois and you would come over to see me. I thought it would work somehow.”

“That’s just like you. You make a wild plan and then imagine everything is going to work out to make it come right.”

“Don’t scold.”

“Well, it was all rather stupid, as it turned out.”

“You’ll never understand.”

“I think I do … quite well.”

Then suddenly I saw the light on the water. It was a long way out, almost on the horizon. It flickered for a moment and then went out.

“Did you see that?” I whispered.

“Where?”

“Look. No. Towards the horizon there. It’s gone. No. There it is again.”

Dorabella was staring ahead of her. “Lights,” she whispered. “Oh, Violetta, they’ve come. The invasion has started!”

“Wait a minute,” I whispered. “It’s gone. No, there it is.”

For a few seconds we watched the unearthly lights on the water.