Mrs Grant had chosen to resume the role of ‘staff,’ and had left her son Jack in the halfway space in between, dining with Persey, Stefan and Dido, while as housekeeper Mrs Grant had removed herself to eat in the kitchen. No one tried to stop her. It was where she said she felt most comfortable, especially with ‘him’ here.
Stefan had arrived in the afternoon, looking as awkward as Persephone felt. He’d unpacked upstairs in their mother’s bedroom. Persey and Dido had cleared the room, emptied the wardrobe of their mother’s clothes and shoes; taken her hairbrushes and jewellery box, her bottles of scent. Dido had cried and Persey had done her best to comfort her while not breaking down herself. And now Mother’s things were in Persey’s room, folded neatly and stacked in the corner. It would serve as an ever-present reminder of the loss of their mother.
Once he had unpacked, Stefan had ventured downstairs and then had looked unsure of himself when he had joined them in the kitchen, where Mrs Grant was folding laundry and Persey was trying to stoke the stove.
He’d stood on the threshold and coughed gently to announce his arrival in the kitchen. Mrs Grant had looked at him, as had Persey but as no one had spoken or invited him to sit he had left the room as swiftly as he had appeared.
Persey knew she’d been rude but she couldn’t bring herself to invite him to join them for a pot of tea; couldn’t bring herself to engage in small talk. She had breathed a sigh of deep relief when she heard the front door click shut sometime later, signalling his temporary departure from the house. It was cowardly but she just didn’t know what to say to him.
‘I don’t like this,’ Mrs Grant had said.
‘Nor do I.’
‘We’re not the only ones to have a bloody German thrust upon us,’ Mrs Grant had declared. ‘I spoke to Mrs Effard this afternoon, the housekeeper at Mer Vue and she said they had two arriving imminently. Two! The field cottage has been taken over as wellnow the Germans have noted its emptiness. They’re everywhere. We’re all slowly being overrun. And it’s only going to get worse.’
‘I suppose we should be grateful it’s just him then.’ It occurred to Persey suddenly that Stefan may have had something to do with it being just him. In a house the size of Deux Tourelles, surely she and Dido could have been asked to bunk up together, or even worse, all of them evicted entirely? She wasn’t sure if she should feel annoyed if he’d had a hand in it, or grateful they didn’t have other soldiers thrust upon them.Perhaps it’s better the devil we know,she thought.
‘This house …’ Mrs Grant began. ‘It is yours now, isn’t it?’
Persey paused as she reached for the teapot on the high shelf above the stove. She turned and looked at the housekeeper.
‘As the eldest sister,’ Mrs Grant continued folding laundry, ‘and with your parents having no sons I just assume …’
Persey had swallowed. ‘I hadn’t thought. The solicitor knows Mummy has passed away. He says we need to visit or he can come here but he didn’t let on any detail and … He’d have said … wouldn’t he? He’d have said if the house had been left to someone else. The reading of the will, he hadn’t said it was urgent.’
Ownership of Deux Tourelles had been the last thing Persey had thought about in all of this. They had always been well taken care of, financially; never rich but able to afford some of life’s luxuries. Both girls had always been expected to earn their own money, put it away in the bank for when they might truly need it. No lazing around Deux Tourelles, day in, day out, looking forlorn and pointless, waiting for a husband. Her parents had both agreed that laziness was not what they were put on this earth for.
Deux Tourelles ran on their father’s income from his job and his investments, and when her father died, his small company had naturally closed, but it had not affected their income a great deal. Her astute accountant father had always made sure to inform his wife and children about annuities and pensions, stocks and shares – when they paid out, how much could be expected. While insome of their school friends’ houses money had been an ugly subject never to be discussed – at Deux Tourelles it was sometimes the starting point to family conversations and Persey knew she would forever be grateful to her parents for all their hard work and for instilling a good work ethic in her and Dido.
Later, when she sat in the dining room staring at the red wine stain, she thought about the mad state of the world that could see a man such as Hitler storm his way across Europe, get as far as the French coast and then the Channel Islands, so close to England, so close to the main prize, that absolutely nothing made any sense anymore.
While she’d been musing, a conversation had begun between Stefan and Jack that Persey had missed the beginning of. She looked up frowning and caught Dido’s eye, who gave her a look of alarm. Persey began to pick up the threads as quickly as she could.
‘And so you were not required to be called up?’ Stefan continued.
‘No. As Channel Islanders we aren’t expected to. We can, of course. But conscription doesn’t stretch to us here. We’re only expected to fight on behalf of the Crown, if the Crown is in danger.’ Jack ate a roast potato and looked nonchalant. Persey wondered if he looked too nonchalant. She hadn’t eaten anything on her plate and forced herself to spear a carrot onto her fork.
‘I see,’ Stefan said, looking thoughtful. ‘A lot of men have left the islands to fight,’ he prompted.
‘Yes,’ was Jack’s non-committal response.
Persey slowly lifted the carrot to her mouth and forced it in. Watching. Waiting.
‘But not you?’ Stefan asked.
‘I do hope you’re not suggesting cowardice?’ Dido interrupted.
‘No, no. Of course not,’ Stefan said with a genuine look of alarm. ‘I have not seen any of you in so long and I want to pick up where we left off … I think. To find out more about how you have been these past few years.’
The room grew silent again. How could they pick things up as if nothing had happened? As if Stefan wasn’t sitting in front of them in that uniform?
‘But the thing is,’ Stefan continued when no one else spoke, ‘I mentioned I would be staying here to the lady who cleans the Channel Islands Hotel where we are headquartered and she said she knew of you all and she seemed upset that I would be billeted with two young women. I made sure to tell her that it was proper because there was Mrs Grant and her son.’ Stefan paused. Persey swallowed the carrot too soon and it scraped the entire way down her throat.
‘The cleaning lady,’ Stefan continued, ‘said that Mrs Grant’s son could not possibly be at the house because Jack Grant left for England weeks ago to be a soldier.’
Chapter 8
2016
