Persephone, exasperated, replied, ‘I just don’t know, Dido. Really.’
‘What about Jack?’ Dido asked solemnly.
‘I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon,’ Persey replied. ‘It’s not ideal, is it? Having Stefan billeted here while Jack’s here. Jack never really got on with Stefan, just sort of put up with him because he was a relation of Mother’s friend, thrust upon us to be entertained. Always a tension between them. I think Jack felt a bit threatened – Stefan being taller and a better swimmer and … anyway. Maybe that kind of childish behaviour will be over now,’ she said, then switched back to her original point: ‘And then when Jack goes, Stefan will want to know where he’s gone. How do we explain that?’
‘I don’t know. We’ll have to think of something,’ Dido remonstrated. ‘It’s bloody awful, Persey. What about getting Jack off the island? We’re going to have to go in darkness, after curfew. How do we do that with a bloody German under the roof watching what we do?’
‘We might be all right,’ Persey said unconvincingly. ‘Depends what time Jack’s being picked up by the navy. If before eleven then it’s before curfew and we’ll be fine. If it’s after … Are you singing Saturday night?’
Dido nodded.
‘Take him with you,’ Persey suggested.
‘Who? Jack?’
‘No, Stefan. Smile sweetly and beg a lift in that car he’s taken from some poor Islander. Then keep him out as long as possible.’
‘By doing what?’ Dido asked.
‘I don’t know. Nothing you shouldn’t though, Di.’
‘It’s Stefan,’ Dido reasoned. ‘If he’s still as dull as he was ten years ago I imagine I’ll be quite safe.’
Mrs Grant knocked and entered.
‘Mrs Grant, you don’t need to knock these days,’ Dido said. ‘The whole world’s gone topsy turvy. Them and us no longer applies. Now the us and them are us Islanders and those Germans.’ Dido laughed as if she’d made a wonderful joke but Mrs Grant looked put out and handed Persephone some letters.
‘More condolence cards, I think,’ she said and then left.
‘Oh, Dido, you are tactless. Us and them?’ Persey said, looking through the stash of post.
‘She knows what I mean,’ Dido reasoned. ‘She’s not offended.’
Persey raised an eyebrow. ‘Let’s hope not.’ She gave four thick envelopes to Dido as her sister got up to fix a drink. ‘You can open these. I can’t read any more about Mother. It starts me off and I just can’t bear more tears at the moment.’
The last piece of mail, Persey kept back. It was addressed only to her, flimsier than the rest and, on closer inspection, on cheaper paper.
Persey,
Condolences about your mother. I appreciate it might be a terrible inconvenience at this awful time, but can you meet me by the statue of Victor Hugo in Candie Gardens at ten o’clock this Saturday? It’s important. I have something urgent I must tell you in person.
Lise
X
Dido looked over Persey’s shoulder as she fixed them drinks. ‘Who’s Lise?’
‘That new girl from work,’ Persey replied. Working in an insuranceoffice full of men, Persey had been overjoyed when Lise had joined as an additional clerical assistant, and not just because it meant sharing the secretarial work with another able pair of hands. ‘We’ve become quite chummy. She’s the only other girl,’ she added as she sat back in the chair and accepted the glass of sherry that Dido handed her.
‘Strange request.’ Dido nodded towards the letter. ‘Why doesn’t she just wait for you to return to the office and tell you whatever it is then? When do you think you’ll go back to work?’ Dido asked.
‘Mr Le Brost has been very good. Says I can return next week if I like. It’ll be after Mother’s funeral and after we’ve finished helping Jack. And you’ll be back at the club on Saturday.’
‘With our good friend the Nazi officer Stefan for company. People are going to say all sorts of things, you know, when I turn up with him. My reputation …’ Dido took a mouthful of her sherry.
‘I know. But I don’t know what else to do. Just make friends when he gets here and then on Saturday evening, stick to him like glue. We just need to get Jack off the island.’
They ate dinner in silence the night Stefan arrived. To Persey’s horror, the dining room had been laid out with small vases of wild flowers lining the centre of the table that ran the length of the dining room. They should have taken the middle out and shortened it because now it felt obscenely large and formal, with Persey one end and Dido the other, Jack and Stefan opposite each other in the middle. Such close proximity between the men was a concern. Persey looked down at a red wine stain from a dinner long ago on the otherwise crisp, white tablecloth; a dinner either one or both of her parents would have hosted with friends or her father’s colleagues. And now it was she and her sister entertaining a German officer. Or not entertaining, as neither Dido nor Persephone had been able to say much throughout the dreary meal.
