Beyond a Misty Shore (2 page)

Maria had twisted her thick dark curly hair up into a knot beneath the turban she wore. The sun was now high in the sky and although it was only May the weather for the past two weeks had been very warm, and swinging the scythe as she helped cut the meadow grass for hay was hard work. Beads of perspiration stood out on her forehead and she grimaced. She must look very unappealing and unattractive, she thought, glancing across to where the tall, lithe figure of Hans worked seemingly effortlessly. He grinned at her and she smiled back, her heart skipping a beat as it always did. He was so handsome: his blond hair lightened by the sun; his skin tanned by working outdoors in all weathers; his eyes as deep a blue as the sea. She had liked him from the first moment she’d met him, the day he’d come with two other young men from the camp to work on the farm some miles inland from Peel. He’d been a little shy with her at first but she’d put that down to the fact that he felt very unsure of his position.

As the days had turned to weeks she’d got to know him better and he had relaxed more in her company; eventually they’d become friends. That friendship had blossomed into affection and now she was certain that she had fallen in love with him. She blushed slightly as she remembered the day a week ago when they’d found themselves alone in the barn.
He’d taken her in his arms and kissed her and told her he had never felt so deeply about anyone before.

‘I know now what is in my heart. I love you, my Maria. I will love you for ever.’

She had clung tightly to him and had murmured ‘I love you too, Hans, and we’ll find a way to be together when . . . when all this is over.’

Now he called across to her: ‘Don’t worry, Maria, soon it will be time for us to eat and then you can rest.’ He knew working on the land was hard for a girl and especially for one as slim as her.

‘Thank goodness, my arms and shoulders feel as if they’re on fire and I must look such a fright,’ she called back, looking forward to sitting close to him under the shade of one of the trees that bounded the field as they ate whatever Maude Sayle would provide for lunch. They always chose to sit apart from the other workers because he had to return to the camp each night which meant they could only see each other during working hours. Their breaks were the only real time they had alone, apart from the odd snatched moments in a barn or the shippen.

‘You never look “a fright”, as you say it. To me you are always beautiful, Maria.’

She was about to ask him laughingly how anyone could look ‘beautiful’ in the uniform of the Land Army – boots, overalls and turban – when she caught sight of the small, stout figure of Maude Sayle hurrying across the field towards them, waving her arms wildly in the air. ‘What on earth is
wrong with her? It’s not dinnertime yet and why is she running?’

Hans looked concerned. ‘Perhaps something is wrong for Mr Sayle.’

They both dropped their scythes and started to run towards the farmer’s wife but then Maria stopped dead and looked around in alarm. ‘Oh, my God! Hans! Hans, listen! Bells! Church bells!’

Instantly he was by her side, his arm protectively around her. ‘What is it? What is it that is happening?’

She clutched his arm tightly, upset and confused. ‘I don’t know. They are only supposed to ring the bells to warn us that . . . but it
can’t
be, not now! The war is nearly over, Hans, we can’t be being
invaded
!’

Maude had reached the little cluster of workers but was fighting for her breath.

‘Mrs Sayle, what’s wrong? Is it the invasion?’ Maria cried, still clinging to Hans.

‘No! No . . . it’s . . . it’s over! Let me get my breath, girl,’ Maude puffed, holding her side, her round face flushed. ‘We’ve just heard it on the wireless and I ran to tell you all. It’s over! The war is over in Europe – they’ve surrendered!’

Maria threw her arms around Hans’s neck and began to laugh with pure relief. For a few horrible moments she had thought the invasion that had threatened them for six years had come.

Hans hugged her and felt a wave of relief surge through
him. Now they no longer had anything to fear from Herr Hitler and his murdering hordes.

Maude beamed at them all. ‘Come on back to the house with me, all of you. This calls for a drink to celebrate, even though it’s a working day.’

With his arm still around Maria Hans led the little group across the field toward the farmhouse as Maude brought up the rear, still puffing a little from her unaccustomed exertions.

Edward Sayle was waiting in the kitchen, his weather-beaten face wreathed for once in smiles, a bottle of whisky and another of sherry already on the table.

‘Come on in, all of you! Isn’t it the best news of all? It’s finally over, we’ve nothing more to worry about,’ he cried, pouring generous measures for everyone.

He raised his glass. ‘A toast! To peace and to freedom!’

The unaccustomed spirits burned the back of Hans’s throat and he spluttered. Maria laughed and banged him on the back, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

Maude smiled at them. They made a handsome couple, she thought. He was a decent lad who worked hard and she’d known Maria all her life; Sarah had been a childhood friend. She’d watched their growing closeness and had wondered if it would last but now a thought suddenly struck her. What implications did this news have for them? In time he and his family would be sent back to Austria from where they’d fled the Nazi advance; would the girl go with him? She doubted it for Maria Kinnin, like so many other people she knew, had
never been off the island in her entire life. Her mother Sarah probably wouldn’t allow her to go. Perhaps being parted would be for the best anyway, she mused, sipping her sherry slowly, but it was not really her concern. Let them have these few hours of happiness for who knew what the future held for them – for any of them.

When at last the celebrations had died down life began to get back to what passed for normal. The authorities started dismantling the coastal defences and closing the camps, and Sophie began to think hard about the future. There was still a little work for her at Sayles’ for the summer months were always busy but she knew that once the harvest was in she could expect little more, and neither could Maria. Sophie was good at dressmaking but there was very little call here for her skills. There were professional seamstresses in both Peel and Ramsey and good shops in Douglas. Apart from housework there was little else she could do; the days when the women of Peel and the surrounding areas worked in their dozens gutting and salting the herrings were firmly in the past. Before the war Douglas, Port Erin and Port St Mary had always been crowded in summer with holidaymakers and no doubt they would soon return, but not many had come to Peel, so there was no work to be found in hotels and guest houses, of which there were few anyway.

She decided to discuss the matter with her mother one evening in September, the day after they had found out that
Hans and his family were to be repatriated to their country of origin the following week, news that had upset Maria terribly. She was still upstairs, lying on her bed sobbing.

‘Oh, Mam, I feel so sorry for her. She really is very fond of him and she says he is heart-broken too,’ Sophie said as she sat down opposite Sarah at the table.

‘I know, but she has known for a while that the time would come when he’d have to leave. He’s no choice, times are still very . . . troubled. She’s very young, she’s only just turned eighteen; she’ll get over him and find someone else. But I, too, hate to see her so upset.’

Sophie twisted her hands together. ‘Mam, what’s going to happen to us all? Maria, Bella and me? There’s no work and without that there’s no hope of a decent future. I . . . I’ve been worrying about it for a while now. I’d like to be a dressmaker – professionally, that is – it’s the only thing I’m good at but it would take time and money to get started up . . .’ Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

Sarah put down the knife she’d been using to peel the vegetables and pushed the bowl to one side. She could see how anxious Sophie was. She sighed heavily. It was a dilemma that many families had faced and would continue to face and there was only one solution to this problem. ‘Your only chance of making that dream come true is to leave the island, Sophie. Oh, it was something I never thought I’d have to deal with, my children having to leave to find work. Both your pa and Andrew had steady work – it didn’t pay a great deal though we managed – but . . . but . . . the good Lord decided
to take them and we have to carry on living as best we can. We both have to think of Bella’s future too.’

Sophie nodded slowly. It was a decision she had been seriously considering. She would have to make a new life for herself and her child, away from the island. ‘Where can I go, Mam?’

‘Across to Liverpool, luv. That’s the logical place. I know they’ve taken a terrible battering over there these last years but things will be starting to get better now, you’ll find work and I’m sure your Uncle Jim and Aunty Lizzie will be happy to have you stay with them until you get on your feet. He is my older brother, after all.’

Sophie nodded her agreement. ‘I’d be grateful. Will you write to them, Mam, please?’ She reached across the table and clasped Sarah’s hand tightly. ‘I don’t really want to have to go, Mam. I’ll miss you terribly, but . . . but . . .’

Sarah smiled ruefully. ‘But there is nothing else you can do, Sophie. You are still a young woman, you have to make a new life for yourself. There are too many painful memories here, luv. Every time you go down to the harbour or walk along the quay you’ll be remembering that day. The day he didn’t come back. No, in some ways it’s the best thing you can do.’ She paused, frowing. ‘I think it might be a good idea if you take Maria with you. She’ll find it hard to get work and once that lad has gone she’ll be as miserable as sin. A fresh start would benefit her too. She’ll meet new people, make new friends, maybe even find a lad to replace Hans Bonhoeffer in her affections.’

‘Mam! Both of us and Bella? You’ll be here alone! I can’t leave you on your own!’ Sophie cried.

‘I won’t be on my own. I was born here, I grew up here, I know everyone. I have friends. Isn’t Andrew’s mam, Fenella Teare, one of my closest friends? I have my work, too. Wouldn’t I be a very selfish woman to force you to stay here just to keep me company? No, Sophie, I want you both to go to Jim and Lizzie and make a new life for yourselves, and Liverpool isn’t
that
far away – just a couple of hours by ferry. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll write in the morning.’

Sophie reluctantly nodded her agreement. Mam did have many friends, her widowed mother-in-law amongst them, and Liverpool wasn’t that far away but to people such as her mam, Maria and herself, who had never been off the island before, it seemed like a great distance and not just in miles.

‘I’ll have to break the news to Bella and then try to scrape together as much money as I can for our fares and to pay my way until I get a job.’

Sarah picked up the paring knife again. ‘I’ll try to help out too, luv. It will be for the best.’

Sophie smiled. ‘All we have to do now is convince Maria and I don’t think that’s going to be easy. Perhaps we should wait until Hans Bonhoeffer and his family have left.’

Sarah nodded and resumed her task. She knew in her heart that she was doing the right thing for her girls, but she could not help feeling more than a little depressed and bereft already.

‘I
N THE NAME OF
heaven, Sophie, what have you brought us to?’ Maria Kinnin’s dark eyes were full of shock and disbelief as she stared through the murky October morning at the sight that was gradually becoming clearer the closer the Isle of Man Steam Packet ship, the
Lady of Man
, drew to the Liverpool Landing Stage. A thin veil of mist hung over the turgid waters of the Mersey and the ships they had passed had left wakes that resembled ribbons of dull, mottled pewter. There wasn’t a breath of wind, the surface of the river was flat and the sky above was a uniform mass of gunmetal cloud.

She had come up on deck with her elder sister when they had passed the lighthouse on Perch Rock, eager to catch her first sight of the city that was to be her new home. Now that
sight filled her with utter dismay. Was this what she’d left Peel for, she thought desperately? She’d been persuaded to give up all her hopes and dreams to come here; her ma and Sophie had said it would be a fresh start, a new life full of great opportunities and excitement but the scene of total devastation that met her eyes offered little prospect of either. They’d come on a wild-goose chase, she thought bitterly.

Sophie clutched her little daughter’s hand tightly and shook her head in horror at the sight that met her eyes. The three majestic buildings that graced the waterfront were intact, although blackened over the decades by the soot from thousands of chimneys, both industrial and domestic, but beyond them was a total wasteland of rubble and burned-out buildings. St Nicholas’s Church – the sailors’ church her pa had called it – was a pile of broken, scorched stones and charred beams; only its blackened spire still stood. In what had been Derby Square, only the statue of Queen Victoria was untouched, that monarch surveying the destruction that surrounded her with characteristic grim disapproval on her granite features. Sophie felt her shoulders sag as bitter disappointment washed over her. Oh, they’d heard how badly Liverpool had suffered in the terrible, week-long blitz of May 1941. Even far away on the island they’d heard the dull roar of the explosions and they’d seen the night sky glowing eerily red from the thousands of burning buildings. But she’d never expected the reality to be as bad as
this
!