Lorna Cook - The Girl from the Island

Persey nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said absently.

‘I feel numb. Don’t you?’ Dido continued.

‘Yes, I suppose I do.’

‘Mother’s gone.’

‘Yes,’ Persey replied. Perhaps it was the shock of it all but Persey had run out of emotion, anaesthetised by the day’s events, and could say no more on the subject.

‘And now Jack,’ Dido lamented.

‘And now Jack,’ Persey repeated. She thought about what Jack had asked her to do, spying at the airport. Would it really be so very different to cycling past, as she often did, but to pay proper attention? Count the aircraft lined up near the landing strip? Take in how many men appeared to be onsite? Perhaps see if any guns had been set up already and whereabouts? Where was the harm in just looking? As long as she didn’t get caught. And why would they arrest her just for cycling past the perimeter fence? As fragments of early morning sunlight broke through the fine gap at the end of the blackout blind she’d replaced in the night, she eventually drifted off to sleep.

If she had expected to dream of anything she thought it would have been about her mother or of Jack being arrested by the Germans. But instead it was half a dream, half a memory that filtered in and out of Persey’s foggy mind. There had been four of them on the cliffs, much younger than they were now, perhaps she had been fifteen or sixteen years old. Jack had challenged them all to a race on the precarious path as they walked the cliffs towards Fermain Bay, drawing a start line in the gravel with the heel of his shoe.

‘We’ll go in teams,’ Jack had announced, looking at his watch as the four stood on the cliff path.

Persey peered over the edge while Jack spoke. Below them the waves crashed loudly against the cliffs, white horses galloping towards the rocks. Not a soul to be seen.

‘I’ll time us. Dido and I shall go first,’ Jack continued. ‘Too narrow for us all to go at once. Two minutes later, Stefan and Persey will follow on. We’ll see which team gets to the bay in the fastest time. Every second counts. Stefan, let’s check our wristwatches.’

Persey glanced at Stefan, blond, tall … taller than he had been last summer certainly. He moved toward Jack to ensure their watches were in synch. The atmosphere between the boys was jovial but there had always been that barely noticeable undercurrent of tension. Jack, the dominant surrogate older brother to the girls, was quick to laugh at Stefan if he mispronounced something. It was one of Jack’s less fine qualities, although if Stefan noticed, he failed to react.

She wasn’t quite sure she wanted to be alone with Stefan for two whole minutes while they waited their turn. What would they talk about? And then to have to run with him along the narrow path. At least she wouldn’t be expected to speak then. She gave Jack a look that suggested she was less than happy about this. But he didn’t see.

‘You ready, Di?’ Jack said as Stefan moved to stand beside Persephone. Stefan’s shirtsleeves were rolled up and his bare forearm – warm, tanned – touched hers and she moved away. He didn’t need to be that close, surely.

‘Ready,’ Dido announced, adjusting the laces of her shoes. At least they were flat, Persey thought, looking down mournfully at her own with their small block heel. Not at all suitable for running along a cliff path.

Jack spent an agonising time staring at his watch as Persey peered over the cliffs again.

‘Be careful, Dido,’ Persey said. ‘For God’s sake don’t fall.’

‘I won’t,’ Dido said in an annoyed tone. ‘Besides, Stefan will rescue me, won’t you, Stefan?’

‘No,’ he said without a hint of emotion. ‘I will be two minutes behind you. You will be dead.’

Persey covered her mouth with her hand as a laugh attempted to escape. Had he meant to be dry? Or was he simply being German? She glanced at Dido, who was frowning, looking put out; and then Persey stole a look at Stefan. The corners of his mouth were twitching. She looked away again, now even more unsure about him.

Persey woke up. She blinked as Dido switched on the bedside lamp.

Dido looked concerned and rubbed sleep from her eyes. ‘What did you say?’

Persey shook her head. ‘Nothing. I think I was dreaming.’

‘You were. But you said something and then you shot up and dragged all the blankets from me.’

Persey looked down. She was clutching the bedding and had pulled it all from Dido and had it in a heap on top of her. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled as Dido took her half back.

Persey sat still and looked into her lap. Could her suspicions be correct?

‘What were you dreaming about?’ Dido asked as she lay back down and put her head against the pillow.

Persey paused a moment before speaking. ‘Do you remember those summers when Mother’s friend Agnes had her nephew to stay?’

‘No,’ Dido said sleepily. ‘Is that what you were dreaming about?’

Persey nodded and then switched off the lamp and lay back down. ‘Yes.’ She rubbed her forefinger along her lower lip as she thought.

‘Don’t you remember him?’

‘The nephew?’ Dido said sleepily in the darkness. ‘Not really. Maybe.’

‘Of course you do,’ Persey said. ‘Think.’

‘Persey, it was years ago.’

‘Over ten years ago, yes. He used to spend the summers in Guernsey with Agnes and her husband and then he’d return to Germany to his studies at the end. You must remember him.’

Dido rolled over. Silence. And then, ‘Johann? Was that his name?’

Persey smiled. ‘Stefan.’

Dido shifted position, onto her back. ‘Didn’t Agnes move back to England?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that why he stopped coming?’ Dido asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Is it important?’ Dido questioned with a yawn.

‘No. Only I thought …’

But Dido cut Persey off. ‘She’ll be interned in England now, won’t she?’

‘Who?’ Persey asked as she tried to picture Stefan’s face from a decade ago – wondering what he would look like now.

‘Agnes. And her husband. She’s English but he’s German. They’ll be interned, won’t they? Or will it be just him? Enemy aliens and all that.’

‘I suppose so, yes. How horrid,’ Persey said.

‘If they’re German, they’re the enemy,’ Dido declared.

Persey thought about that for a long time, unsure how she felt, unsure how to respond. She wanted to ask Dido if she really thought that old friends could simply be the enemy because the government told you they were, but Dido was already breathing heavily, asleep next to her.

They had known to expect the return of the Germans to the house but none of them had realised it would happen so soon in the day. They had sat down to breakfast in the dining room, Jack waxing lyrical about the locations he needed to visit over the next week, the reconnaissance he was expected to carry out and the kind of help he might need if the girls were willing, when an efficient three-rap knock sounded at the front door.

They looked at Jack for instruction and Mrs Grant issued a startled noise.

‘Don’t panic,’ Jack said confidently. ‘Everyone knows the story … I’ve been here the whole time.’

Persey nodded, though her heart clattered in her chest.

The knocking sounded again but it was Dido who moved. ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, someone should answer or it’ll start to look suspicious from the off.’ She was already out of the dining room door.

Persey sat still, her plate of food uneaten. Jack carried on eating as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but as Persey looked closer she could see his hand shaking as he lifted his fork. She reached to still him and he put his fork down and swallowed.

There were only two men this time, led into the dining room by Dido. The men glanced around at the sage green walls and the antique furniture dotted around the room. Persey looked where they looked, an excuse not to look at the men properly, not to make eye contact.