‘Yes,’ she’d said. ‘But you’ll have to go on my bicycle and then how will I ever get it back? It’ll look far more suspicious if I go up to Petit Bot tomorrow morning, after you’ve gone, to collect it, by which point some or other German will have put his grubby little hands on it and that’ll be it gone forever.’
He’d looked at her uncertainly.
‘And if we go two up on it,’ she continued, ‘we might be able to pass as a couple. Then if we are caught after curfew—’ she shuddered at the prospect ‘—we might be able to talk our way out of it together.’ She wasn’t sure if this was wishful thinking, but she couldn’t let one of her oldest friends, and Mrs Grant’s only child, go it alone. She had to help. She had to know he’d got away safely.
Jack had reluctantly agreed.
With no one else in the sitting room for her to talk with, Persey allowed her mind to wander. Lise needed her help, but Persey was unsure in what kind of timescaleshe would need to act or what she would need to do. What could she do to help this woman, her friend? The Germans hadn’t made their intentions clear with regard to the island’s Jewish population and Persey had given it very little thought up until now. She’d been past shops in St Peter Port that she knew had previously been run by members of the Jewish community and they had been shut up, their owners departing on the boats for England weeks ago, as Lise had tried but failed to do.
Lise needed to move away from her lodgings, where her frightful landlady knew she was Jewish. If the Germans did decide to start rounding up Jews, there was the worry the landlady might inform on Lise. She needed a general state of anonymity ideally, but how could Persey achieve that for her? Lise could hardly live here, under the watchful gaze of Stefan. How would he react if she told him about all of this? She didn’t know him well enough now to risk it. But maybe if she tried, tentatively, one day soon to …
No. She couldn’t. Deux Tourelles was exactly where Lise could not be. But where could she go?
Down the hallway, the classical music stopped abruptly and the door handle turned. Persephone watched, wordlessly, as Stefan appeared unsurely in the hallway. He looked at Persephone.
‘You can come in, if you like,’ Persephone said, wondering if he would.
He entered and looked around the sitting room and then at the piano. ‘This is a beautiful instrument,’ he said, moving towards it. ‘Do you play?’
‘Not today,’ Persey said. ‘And even then I don’t play very well. It’s Moth—’ Persey caught herself in time and said, ‘It was Mother’s.’ She frowned and looked down at the ivory keys.
Stefan paused before responding. ‘I cannot stress how sorry I am, for all of it.’
‘What do you mean for all of it?’
‘Us.’
‘Us?’ For reasons unbeknownst to her, Persephone’s stomach lurched.
‘The Occupation of your island. For us, being here,’ he clarified.
‘Oh I see,’ she said quietly.
‘I’m not your enemy,’ he replied. ‘You know that? I was never that and I am not now.’
‘Why are you wearing this?’ She gestured to his uniform. ‘Mighty ridiculous you’re wearing it on a Saturday when you’ve not even left the house.’ Why had she resorted to unfriendly teasing so soon in the conversation? What was wrong with her?
‘I’m required to wear it at all times and I did leave the house today.’
‘At all times? Even while sleeping?’ she added sarcastically and then closed her mouth. He’d been her friend, once.
‘No.’ He smiled. ‘Not while sleeping.’
When he said nothing further she spoke. ‘Where did you go today then?’
‘I explored parts of the area I had not previously seen on my summers here. And parts that I remembered well but wanted to see again. I saw you, actually.’
Persephone’s head shot up and she stared at him. ‘Where?’
‘Candie Gardens.’
She paused. Had he seen her with Lise? ‘Why didn’t you come over and say hello?’ she challenged him.
‘You did not look as if you wanted company. You were with a friend. She looked upset.’
Persey paused. ‘She was.’
‘Why?’ he asked.
