Page 96 of Neighbors at War

‘It might take months but I’m hoping she’ll receive my telegram.’

He left feeling as if he had achieved something worthwhile. Finally, he had reassuring news for Helen.

Chapter Sixty-Two

HELEN

August 1944

The next few weeks passed. Planes still flew by but there seemed to be fewer now, and shots had been fired at a few areas on the island. Instead of the islanders being rescued, life got worse and Helen felt more despondent than ever.

‘How are we going to cope with even less food?’ she asked Daphne as they sat in the garden making the most of the late summer sunshine. There was something different about her friend today, but she couldn’t make out what it could be.

‘I’ve no idea, but now the Germans’ food supply chain has been broken by the Allies invading France, they’ll be getting as hungry as we’ve been.’

Helen knew it also meant that the meagre rations they distributed to the islanders would end. She was frightened, not only for her and Bobby, but for everyone. What vegetables they could manage to grow were needed now more than ever.

‘They’re getting nastier, too,’ Daphne moaned quietly so that Bobby couldn’t hear.

Helen saw her glance to the right and wondered if she was expecting someone. She was about to ask, when there was another distant boom.

Helen flinched. ‘And now they’re bombing St Malo.’ She had visited the beautiful walled town when she was a child and her parents had taken her and her brother over on the ferry from St Helier. She recalled the first time she had accompanied her father up onto the ramparts, enjoying seeing the tall, stone townhouses from the higher viewpoint.

‘I spent my honeymoon in St Malo,’ Daphne said wistfully. ‘It’s always held a special place in my heart. The Americans bombing the place to rid it of the Nazis is one thing, but I hope the townspeople have been able to get away to safety before this bombardment. Even if they survive the bombings, will they have anything left to return to?’

Helen couldn’t imagine how anyone might survive so many bombs being dropped in such a small area. She pictured the top floors of the houses peeping over the ramparts as they arrived by ferry. It had been such a magical place. ‘Poor St Malo.’

Each day Daphne had returned home it had been the same. Bad news. More and more of it, or so it seemed. Would this nightmare ever end? Was Bobby destined to only know a life like this one? Helen hoped not, with all her heart. She tried to imagine how different their lives would have been if she had found a way to stay in London, then pushed the pointless thought away.

Thinking about what-ifs was a waste of emotion. This was their life, whether they liked it or not. They had to find the best way to cope and hopefully survive the lack of food and medicines.

Stop it, Helen thought, irritated with herself for giving into negative thoughts. She needed to focus on the few things she did have the power to control, the most important being her resilience and keeping going, when all she wanted to do was draw the curtains, go to bed and cry.

She was about to call Bobby and put him to bed when Peggy arrived, out of breath and red in the face. Concerned, Helen leapt to her feet and rushed over to her friend, slipping her arms around her and leading her to one of the chairs.

‘What is it?’ Daphne asked.

Helen looked anxiously at Peggy. ‘Sit down. I’ll fetch you some water.’

Peggy shook her head and waved for her to stay. ‘Sorry,’ she panted. ‘Out. Of. Breath.’

Helen sat and waited. ‘Take your time,’ she said, trying to ease the tension in her stomach. Studying her friend’s face and not seeing distress, she calmed slightly.

Peggy put her hand in her jacket pocket and withdrew a buff envelope. ‘For. You.’

Helen gasped at the sight of a telegram. ‘From Richard?’

Peggy smiled as she nodded.

‘That’s so kind of you to bring it.’

‘Let me fetch you a glass of water,’ Daphne said, and didn’t wait for either of them to stop her.

Helen held the precious telegram. It seemed so long since she had received one. She stared at it for a moment and then opened the envelope, removing the single sheet and unfolding it.

Visited your parents. Grove Street bombed. Now rehoused. All safe and well.

Sent love to you and Bobby. Am well. Always in my thoughts. Richard