Beyond a Misty Shore
Beyond A Misty Shore
Copyright © 2011 Lyn Andrews
The right of Lyn Andrews to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
First published as an Ebook by Headline Publishing Group in 2011
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN : 978 0 7553 7191 4
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
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About the Book
It is 1945 and the war is finally over. For sisters Sophie and Maria, though, the upheaval is just beginning. For they have no choice but to leave their beloved home on the Isle of Man.
Moving to the mainland is a huge wrench for eighteen-year-old Maria. She can’t forget Hans Bonhoeffer, a young Austrian farmer who was interned on the island during the war.
For widowed Sophie, Liverpool offers a new beginning with her young daughter Bella; she’s determined to make a success of it. She has no room for distractions - until she meets Frank Ryan. But falling in love with Frank is a disaster, for he is married to a woman who, although she doesn’t love him, has no intention of letting him go. So when an unexpected business opportunity arises for Sophie it seems like the answer to her prayers. Seizing the chance, she decides to start afresh and try to forget Frank.
Maria, though, has never given up hope of a future with Hans. When he does return he finds himself in grave danger and Maria has no option but to be parted from him again. Without the men they love, will the sisters ever find happiness?
About the Author
Lyn Andrews is one of the UK’s top one hundred bestselling authors, reaching No. 1 on the
Sunday Times
paperback bestseller list. Born and brought up in Liverpool, she is the daughter of a policeman and also married a policeman. After becoming the mother of triplets, she took some time off from her writing whilst she raised her children. Shortlisted for the RNA Romantic Novel of the Year Award in 1993, she has now written thirty hugely successful novels. Lyn Andrews now lives on the Isle of Man.
By Lyn Andrews
Maggie May
The Leaving Of Liverpool
Liverpool Lou
The Sisters O’Donnell
The White Empress
Ellan Vannin
Mist Over The Mersey
Mersey Blues
Liverpool Songbird
Liverpool Lamplight
Where The Mersey Flows
From This Day Forth
When Tomorrow Dawns
Angels Of Mercy
The Ties That Bind
Take These Broken Wings
My Sister’s Child
The House On Lonely Street
Love And A Promise
A Wing And A Prayer
When Daylight Comes
Across A Summer Sea
A Mother’s Love
Friends Forever
Every Mother’s Son
Far From Home
Days Of Hope
A Daughter’s Journey
A Secret In The Family
To Love And To Cherish
Beyond A Misty Shore
For my treasured and only granddaughter Jemima Lyn Andrade –
meu pequeno anjo
– who is beautiful and a little poppet, although at times she can be like the ‘litle girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead’ in the nursery rhyme! I have based Maria in the novel on you, Jemima – Maria’s looks are typically Manx; you have inherited yours from Angela your Portuguese grandma – but I hope when you grow up you will have as happy, fulfilled and successful a life as Maria does – although probably by that time your Nanna Lyn will have ‘shuffled off this mortal coil’.
Lyn Andrews
Isle of Man, 2011
Peel, Isle of Man, May 1945
‘I
T’S OVER, LUV, IT’S
finally over.’ Sarah Kinnin’s voice was low and hoarse with the emotions she was trying hard to control. Dressed for work in a dark grey skirt covered by a coarse but serviceable calico apron, a paisley print blouse and with her greying hair taken back into a neat bun, she had come straight from home to find her elder daughter. The auctioning of the day’s catch was due to begin in an hour and she, as auctioneer, would have to discuss prices with the fishermen and then mark everything down in her book before she started the auction, but she had an idea that they would be very late in beginning today. She had known where Sophie would be, where she always came in the morning after she
had seen her five-year-old daughter Bella into school. She would be down by the little harbour sheltered from the prevailing winds and weather by the grassy bulk of St Patrick’s Isle.
Sophie never lingered at the school gate gossiping with the other young mothers, preferring to spend some time alone with her thoughts and memories. Bella always went off happily with her friends; she enjoyed school. But Sarah wondered if the children would all soon be sent home. They would be bursting with excitement at the news that was spreading like wildfire across the island – relayed by those who were fortunate enough to have a wireless set – and was now being heralded also by the church bells. Bells that had been silent for six long years. The war in Europe was finally and officially over. Germany had surrendered.
Sarah reached out and put her arms around the girl’s shoulders and felt them shaking. ‘Hush, luv. Hush now,’ she soothed, but her own eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Sophie turned towards her and Sarah felt a stab of anguish as she looked into the brown eyes, which were full of pain and brimming with tears. Both her girls were attractive with dark eyes fringed with sooty lashes and the thick dark brown hair that denoted their Manx heritage, but at only twenty-four Sophie was a widow.
‘Oh, Mam! Is it true?’ Sophie asked, a sob in her voice.
Sarah managed a sad smile. ‘That’s why the bells are ringing, luv. Mr Churchill announced it on the wireless this hour past.’
Sophie nodded slowly, but then began to shake her head. ‘Was it worth it, Mam? Was it all really worth it? Poor Pa lost off North Africa and . . . and my Andrew and . . . and all the other lads who left the island to fight . . . and my poor Bella left . . .’ She couldn’t go on.
Sarah gathered her daughter into her arms. ‘I’ve been asking myself that same thing, luv, and the answer has to be “yes, it was”. That evil man and his armies had to be stopped. There was nothing else we could do except fight for our freedom and our way of life.’ She stared across the calm waters of Peel’s harbour shimmering in the May sunlight, where the moored fishing boats bobbed gently up and down on the incoming tide. Both her husband and Andrew Teare, Sophie’s husband, had been fishermen. John Kinnin had drowned when the
Tynwald
had been sunk and Andrew’s boat had been dragged by its nets to the bottom of the Irish Sea by a U-boat three years ago. The entire crew had perished. Both she and Sophie had suffered devastating blows but at least she and John had had far longer together than Andrew and Sophie, she thought sadly.
As she tried to soothe her distraught daughter her gaze wandered across to the wide swathe of strand where the waves broke gently against the shore. Every beach, inlet and cliff top was festooned with barbed wire. Their little island was surrounded by a ring of cruel iron. All along the pretty leafy lanes that meandered through the glens and hills and villages signposts and names had been removed. Ugly concrete pillboxes had been built to house the guns that would have
helped protect them from invasion, but despoiled the majestic coastline. Yet the blight of the paraphernalia of war was a small price to pay; they had not suffered the fate of the people of the Channel Islands, thank God.
Sophie was trying hard to control the emotions that were sweeping over her as she clung to her mother, knowing that she too had suffered the terrible grief of losing her husband and knowing too, deep in her heart, that Sarah was right. The evil that had swept across Europe had had to be stopped no matter what the cost and today neither she nor her mother would be alone in their grief.
‘Come on, Sophie, luv. Pull yourself together. We’ve got to try to put it all behind us and think of the future, not the past. You have to think of Bella now,’ Sarah urged.
Sophie dashed away her tears with the back of her hand. She had to make an effort for her daughter. It would upset and confuse the child to see her like this. ‘I know, Mam.’ She looked around. ‘I suppose they’ll send them all home from school now.’
Sarah smiled. ‘I expect they will give them the rest of the day off. They’ll be too excited to concentrate on lessons. People are already talking about organising parties to celebrate.’
Sophie squared her slim shoulders and tucked her arm through Sarah’s. ‘You’re right, Mam – whatever we are feeling, we can’t spoil today for Bella.’
Sarah nodded her agreement. ‘Maybe Maria will bake one of her special cakes for us when she gets home. I’m sure I’ve got enough ingredients.’
A look of concern crossed Sophie’s face as she wondered how her younger sister would take the news. Maria was a Land Girl and worked on the Sayles’ farm, a seven-day-a-week job. She would have heard of the end of hostilities by now too for the Sayles had a wireless, and of course she would have heard the bells. She also knew of her sister’s growing affection for Hans Bonhoeffer, a young Austrian internee from the Peveril Camp, who also worked for the Sayles. ‘Mam, what will happen now to all the people in the camps?’ she asked tentatively as they made their way up the narrow cobbled street lined with fishermen’s cottages.
Sarah frowned. ‘I don’t know, luv. I suppose they’ll be sent back to wherever it is they came from in the first place. It’s all over now so they’re no longer a threat, although from what we’ve seen and heard most of them weren’t much of a threat to begin with. Except of course the few
real
prisoners of war and I expect even they will be glad to go home to their families.’
Sophie nodded; it made sense. This tiny island couldn’t support the numbers of internees indefinitely. There was very little work for the Manx people themselves and she began to wonder what both she and her sister would do now, for obviously the Women’s Land Army would be disbanded. She hadn’t officially been a part of it but she had helped out at Sayles’ whenever she could, and she had done other jobs too to support both herself and Bella. Sarah couldn’t keep them all; with Pa dead she only had the small income from her work as an auctioneer, selling off the catches the fishing
fleet brought back. Sophie sighed inwardly. There really didn’t seem to be very much to celebrate at all today but she had to keep her spirits up for Bella’s sake.