Sea Gem (51 page)

‘Food!’ Raoul drooled, as they went outside away from gaunt German eyes.

‘I wonder what will be in a parcel?’ Amelia murmured wistfully. ‘Do you think there might be some real tea?’

Mary looked at her thoughtfully. Amelia, as their chosen quartermaster, gave the orders regarding what they ate and when. Months ago though they had decided that if a dispute should arise they
would be democratic and vote on the matter. Mary hesitated. Amelia’s temper was volatile these days but she had to speak her mind.

‘If we should each have a little tea in our parcels, what do you say we give some to the Germans?’

Amelia went up in a sheet of flame. ‘Never!’ she shouted, her cheeks going bright red with anger. ‘How can you even think of such a thing? You should be ashamed of yourself.
They came here and occupied us without as much as a by-your-leave and we have been living under these conditions for nearly five years. My boys are away fighting them and now you suggest we share a
precious food parcel with them? NO!’ she thundered.

‘Amelia!’ Raoul started gently.

She promptly turned on him, her breasts heaving her wrath. ‘And don’t you start either!’ she warned.

Mary took a deep breath. ‘I don’t agree with you,’ she replied evenly as Amelia turned to glower at her. ‘They were good enough to share with us the rations they brought
back from their leaves. Remember that fantastic coffee that day? I think it saved my life!’

Amelia had forgotten but she was wound up like a tight spring. The years of the occupation had changed her too.

‘We’ll put it to the vote later, shall we?’ Raoul suggested delicately.

Amelia flew at him. ‘I shall vote No!’ she said as if that decided the matter once and for all.

Raoul flashed a warning look at Mary. They were such good friends with secrets between them unknown to Amelia. She interpreted his meaning. He would work on Amelia in bed that night but now Mary
must keep her mouth tightly shut.

They were all up early the next morning when breakfast was a cup of boiled water with a few dried herbs brewed in the communal tea pot and one slice each of stale, dry ersatz bread with nothing
on it.

They set out walking gently, conscious of their weakened state but luck was with them, after only half a mile a cart appeared pulled by a bony horse.

‘Going to town for the food ship,’ the driver bellowed with excitement. ‘Jump in!’

The three of them now filled the cart to overflowing. Each eyed the horse dubiously.

‘We must all get out for the hills,’ the driver warned them. ‘I don’t want the horse dropping dead in the shafts out here. If there’s not enough food, my family and
I will eat him.’

They did not speak but each one of them quivered with barely suppressed excitement. Mary’s mouth watered with anticipation and a sneak glance at Amelia showed a stiff, cool face. Anxiously
she peeped at Raoul who pulled a face, then pursed his lips in a silent message. It was obvious Amelia was still in a mood but not as volatile as the day before. She was slowly coming round but it
would be imprudent to mention a touchy subject at this moment. Far better to wait until they were back home with their precious parcels.

They left the cart on the harbour fringes because of the giant crowd of excited islanders all craning to peer at the rescue ship on which many men bustled about purposefully. Mary saw the
Bailiff and members of the Controlling Committee with Germans co-operating in pushing people into an orderly queue. The line was long, winding backwards and forwards, but the islanders were
patient. They had waited so very, very long, a little longer would make it all worthwhile.

Raoul turned to Mary. ‘It’s going to take ages for our turn to come. Let’s take it in turns to queue,’ he said sensibly. You go and sit down somewhere with Amelia. Amelia
can give me a rest.’

Mary saw through his game. ‘I can take my turn too!’ she told him forcefully.

Raoul sighed. Now she was going to argue when he knew perfectly well she was the weakest of the three. He and Amelia had not been walking to town and back for years.

He took Mary aside firmly. ‘You, for once, will do as you are told. We have not been burning up energy like you. When your turn comes then you can come to the queue. Until then, get
yourself sat down somewhere within sight of me and don’t damned well argue. I’m not in the mood to cope with tantrums from you as well as my wife.’

Mary blinked. She had never heard Raoul use such an exasperated tone of voice and a faint, hysterical hunger-giggle rose. Suddenly she did not wish to press the point because she realised how
right he was. It was a simple relief to have everything taken from her hands; to let someone else deal with responsibility, marvellous to feel cherished and taken care of after battling by herself
for so many years.

‘All right,’ she agreed quickly. ‘I’ll go and sit down there,’ she pointed. ‘On that bollard where those crewmen are working!’

Moving gently to conserve strength, Mary sauntered down the slope and propped herself on a cast iron bollard very near to the
Vega
’s bows. She was aware she was eyed by two German
soldiers but they obviously decided one person so near to the ship could not make a riot.

Mary shivered. She felt so cold despite the layers of dirty clothing she was wearing. Her thoughts drifted from food to a hot bath. Nowadays she never felt clean. They had only cold water with
which to wash and could not get their clothes properly clean. Her skin sometimes itched with ingrained dirt and dried sweat so she fantasised about steaming bath water with perfume in it and
herself wallowing and luxuriating.

Idly she watched the
Vega
’s crew. How well fed they looked, how easily and quickly they moved about their tasks. Their clothes were clean, they wore good shoes on their feet and
their eyes were bright within healthy faces. The giggle lifted again; what a lot of dirty ragamuffins the islanders must appear to them.

She became aware of one man halting now and again to scan the watching German soldiers, then examine the islanders’ queue. He was not doing much real work, she thought curiously. He was
more intent on studying starving, dishevelled people. How rude, she told herself indignantly. It’s not our fault we are like this.

Then his eyes alighted upon her and his forehead creased in a frown. Mary looked back at him unblinkingly, noticing his dark grey hair with a thick beard to match. Fancy staring like that at me,
she thought, and drew herself a little more upright to glare back at this impertinence.

The crewman jumped on the quay, spoke briefly to a German soldier then was striding vigorously up to her. He wore a thick rolled neck sweater of dark blue with trousers the same colour. Mary
eyed the clothing. How wonderfully warm it must be and so clean and fresh! She could not help but feel a pang of envy. Averting her eyes, she threw a glance at the queue and Raoul waved back.
Amelia was near him talking animatedly to someone. Mary gave a gentle wave to acknowledge Raoul, turned to look at the
Vega
again when the crewman appeared to stand before her only two
feet away.

Mary looked up and her heart stopped dead. She would know those violet eyes anywhere. With a thud her heart started beating again as her mouth opened, lips moving in soundless wonder while a
lump rose to lodge in the middle of her throat.

He knelt down so his eyes were level with hers. ‘Catherine! My sweet wonderful Catherine,’ he crooned. ‘I’ve been praying you’d be here. I’ve been scanning
the queue for hours in a panic I’d miss you. We are not allowed to come any further on to the island than this. How are you?’

Victor was horrified. He had not at first recognised this bedraggled, starving, woman until she sat up stiffly with her old mannerism of lifting her jaw a fraction against whatever life was
getting ready to throw at her. Her face was gaunt; the bones standing out in sharp relief. Her cheeks were white and unhealthy. Her hands trembled a little and he saw ingrained dirt. He wanted to
take her in his arms, crush her against his chest, then jump on a magic carpet and fly her away to somewhere warm and sunny with food and clean beauty.

Mary began to tremble from the shock. She could not help it as the tears welled up unbidden to trickle down her cheeks as her lips quivered. It was him. As strong, virile and masculine as ever
and he was safe, alive, here, looking at her, his eyes gentle, sad and appalled at her condition.

‘Victor?’ was all she could manage.

He took her hands gently, feeling how frail they were and his heart nearly broke. He shook his head, words hard to find for a few seconds.

‘I had to fight like hell to get this berth to come here and see you,’ he told her softly.

‘It—
is
you?’ Mary asked, her voice breaking.

He realised he must lighten the situation. She looked as if she would faint.

‘Well, how many other Heathcliffs do you know?’ he jested. His hand touched his face. ‘It’s the beard but it makes a lovely disguise!’

‘Victor! Oh Victor! I am so hungry! We all are. Do you really have lovely food on that ship?’ she nodded at the
Vega
. ‘Is it really true that we are all going to get a
parcel? Please tell me,’ she cried.

He caught his breath. ‘Dear God! What the hell has been happening here?’ he asked roughly.

Mary started sobbing gently, unable to control herself any longer. ‘I’m so hungry, Victor!’ she whimpered, like a little child.

He was horrified, stunned into inaction for a few moments as the situation slowly dawned upon him. He threw a glance at the pathetic people collecting a parcel each. He saw how everyone’s
face lit up as a parcel was placed in two waiting hands. He saw how some stood, frozen, as if unable to believe their fortune while others wept unashamedly. Slowly each recipient walked away,
holding the parcel, guarding it more preciously than gold. A lump shot into his throat while his face darkened with fury, then his eyes came back to her. She was looking hopefully at him from huge
eyes. They were appealing but terrified as if it was but a dream that would change into a nightmare at any second.

He dived one hand into pocket. ‘Here!’ he said. ‘Take this chocolate bar but eat it slowly!’

Mary looked down at it as if it were a grenade. She licked her lips, admired the wrapper’s colours, stroked it then gently but carefully put it into one pocket of the greasy jacket she
wore.

‘I can’t,’ she told him simply. ‘It’s not allowed. You see, we pool our food and share everything. Amelia decides what we can eat and when. I take all my meals down
at their cottage now. I only sleep at home.’

‘God almighty!’ he roared and plunged a hand into another pocket. There was a second chocolate bar. With a murderous look in his eyes he stripped away the wrapper, snapped off a
section and lifted it to her lips. ‘Eat or I’ll make you!’

She opened her lips, he popped the chocolate in and slowly Mary started to chew. Chocolate! She had quite forgotten the taste. Wonder filled her eyes as he watched with a sick feeling in his
guts and a grim scowl on his face.

‘Slowly!’ he cautioned, giving her another piece. He removed a clean handkerchief from another pocket and tenderly wiped her tears away. He had never been so appalled in all his
life. They had all heard things were bad on the island but he had not envisaged this. Sarnia Cherie, he told himself, more like Sarnia hell.

Mary swallowed and looked at him with her big eyes. ‘That was lovely. Do you think I could have another piece without being greedy?’

His pockets were large and he’d had the forethought to fill them. Four more chocolate bars went into her hands as Mary looked at them in blind wonder. Very carefully though she opened one
wrapper after putting three bars away to share. She ate slowly and was sure she could feel fresh strength going into her system from the rich food. When she had finished she licked her fingers
thoroughly, then tucked them into her coat. It was joy to feel the bars of food nestling there. They were extra to the food parcels. Amelia would be delighted and should, hopefully, be in a more
reasonable state of mind.

‘There is more than enough food for everyone with some in reserve but I promise you, the
Vega
will be making regular runs to you now. It’ll take a little while to build up
stocks but you’ll not be like this again. I promise you and Churchill agrees because the Germans have guaranteed not to take one crumb from one parcel.’

‘If the Germans have said that, then they won’t’ Mary told him. ‘They are terribly well disciplined though they are now hungry as we are.’

He wasn’t interested in hearing about the enemies’ plight. ‘Tell me about you. It’s been such a long time!’

Mary was reawakening. ‘Margaret and Michael. I want to hear about them first. I must! I’ve heard nothing in—years it seems,’ she told him, her voice rising a little with
hysteria.

‘Ssh!’ he whispered, stroking her bony hands, wanting to hold her tight but acutely aware of the nearby soldiers. He was very much the enemy to them. A military man on active
service, not in uniform, who had wangled a passage on a neutral ship. He could imagine the uproar if these soldiers realised he was a British soldier out of uniform. He dared do nothing
untoward.

‘Margaret is well and in the pink of health and condition. She cannot wait to get back to the island but as soon as Michael is released, they are going to have a quick, quiet wedding
before coming back here to settle down.’

‘Without me?’ Mary asked feeling sharp hurt.

He heard this in the two questioning words. ‘They don’t want any frills or fuss. They just want to be together. You can’t blame them when you think how they have been separated
and even now Margaret has no idea how long it will take for Mike to get home when the war is won. Don’t be upset about it all, just welcome them back as man and wife when they do come,’
he told her very gently.

Mary considered his words and gradually understood. ‘At least they are alive, which I should be thankful for,’ she agreed heavily. Her eyes studied him carefully now. ‘You do
look fit and well. What have you been doing or shouldn’t I ask?’