Chapter 22

I

t didn’t seem long before the house was full of police officers taking statements from the builders and poking around upstairs. A doctor had arrived with the police and as he turned round Jeanne cried out ‘Jonathan! What are you doing here?’

‘Hello, Jeanne. I’m the duty doctor for the station today and as I was already there I was asked to come along. How awful for you! Are you all right? Need anything for the shock?’ he asked gently.

She shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be fine, thanks. It was a terrible shock but I’m calmer now. Just had a cup of tea. Have you…seen it, yet?’

‘Yes, just quickly. There will be a post mortem by the pathologist, of course, but it looks to me like a full term baby, probably still-born. And it’s been there so long that the dry, cool air under the floor must have mummified it.’

‘Could it have been there sixty years?’ Jeanne asked, her heart racing.

‘I guess so. But I’m no expert on these things. Why? Do you know something about what happened?’ he asked, looking puzzled.

Before Jeanne could explain the inspector came up and said he would like to ask her a few questions. He was very kind and she told him all she knew about the possible parentage of the baby.

‘I’ve recently discovered that my grandmother was in love with a German soldier during the Occupation and…and that she became pregnant by him. But I don’t know that she actually gave birth.’

‘Well, if it was still-born that could certainly explain why it was buried under the floor and not properly in a graveyard. Would have meant a lot of questions for your grandmother. Very sad,’ he sighed. ‘It doesn’t look as if a crime has been committed but we will have to wait for the results of the post mortem to confirm that the baby died naturally. And there will have to be an Inquest too, I’m afraid. The body’s being taken to the hospital now and we can leave you alone. But that room is a potential crime scene and is out of bounds until we’ve got the results through. I’ll try to rush through the autopsy so we don’t hold up the building work too much. Be in touch when I’ve got some news.’

Jeanne nodded and turned around in time to see a small body bag being carried outside. Jonathan came up and put his arms around her as she blinked away the tears.

‘I have to get back but I don’t like leaving you like this. Is there somewhere you could go? I don’t think you should stay here tonight.’

‘I’m supposed to be at Molly’s for a…a session now and I’ll ask her if I can stay there. Thanks, Jonathan. I’ll catch up later.’

It was agreed the men should finish work for the day and as everyone filed out Jeanne quickly phoned Molly to see if she could still come round as she was late.

‘And can I stay with you tonight, please? I’ll explain when I see you.’ This was fine by Molly, and Jeanne packed up a few things before locking the door and driving down to find much needed peace and quiet.

Over a cup of strong tea Jeanne poured out all that had happened to a stunned and for once, speechless Molly. Jeanne cried as she described seeing the tiny body, conscious that the pitiful sight had undoubtedly rekindled the grief for her own lost baby.

‘It must have been so awful for Gran! She must have been desperate to have buried her baby under the floor like that. Always knowing it was there. What a burden to carry! If only she’d told someone and been able to have a proper burial,’ Jeanne said, shaking her head in sorrow.

Molly took her hand. ‘At least now, when all the formalities are over, the baby can be buried with your gran. They’ll be reunited and at peace.’

A thought struck her. ‘You always said there was something odd about that bedroom, didn’t you? It was much colder, but only to you. This must be why.’

Jeanne nodded. ‘Yes, that makes sense. I must have been sensitive to the vibes in some way. Gran’s pain, I suppose. In a way, it’s a relief to know that’s what caused it and that I wasn’t just imagining it. Do you think that if something awful happened in a place then people can sense it?’

Molly looked thoughtful.

‘Personally, I’ve always felt that places, like people, can hang onto memories, particularly ones that are traumatic. Like ‘place ghosts’ that haunt the place where they died suddenly and violently, leaving unfinished business. But not everyone’s sensitive to them. You seem to be, and probably also responding to genetic memory. As you’ve experienced a lot of personal trauma you’re more likely to tune into someone else’s pain. Particularly the pain of a common loss,’ Molly said, squeezing her hand.

Jeanne nodded. ‘So, perhaps the atmosphere in that room will be all right now for me. I was too shocked to notice today so I’ll check it out when I’m allowed back in.’

She became lost in her thoughts for a while and Molly pottered about, clearing away the cups.

Jeanne came to and said, ‘Molly, I mentioned to Nick that I would have to move out of the cottage for a while and he offered me the use of a boat at Beaucette. Do you think it’s too soon for me to be on a boat?’

‘Hmm, it’s hard to know, but you did say the idea of being on one wasn’t as scary now. It could boost your confidence and as it’s moored you’ll be totally safe. The first step before going out to sea,’ she paused. ‘I think it’s worth a try as you could just walk off if you’re uncomfortable.’

‘True. And it would solve my housing problem! Any chance of a quick session now? To help me deal with everything that’s happening.’

‘Of course. All this has rather overtaken the excitement of your contract, hasn’t it? Peter and I were thrilled when you phoned and told us, and we were planning to take you out for a meal to celebrate. But that will have to wait. It’s time for calm now,’ she smiled at Jeanne and they headed off to the study.

The strain of the day had finally caught up with her and she went to bed soon after dinner.

The next morning she phoned Nick.

‘Jeanne! So glad you phoned. I’ve just heard a rumour that a baby’s body was found in a house in Perelle. I was worried about you. If I’d known what you’d have to face I’d have gone back with you to the cottage.’

He sounded so concerned that she felt guilty for not having phoned earlier.

‘Yes, it…was a baby’s body. And I was so stressed out by it all that I forgot to phone you. Sorry.’ She told him the story of her gran and Wilhelm and that she was now at Molly’s for a few days.

‘The police have stopped the building work until they receive the results of the autopsy. Should only be a few days. As long as the death was natural the builders can move back in. But I don’t feel I can face it right now.’

‘No, I can understand that. What a terrible thing to have happened! Your poor grandmother.’ His deep voice was so full of warmth that she felt soothed.

‘I managed to have some more hypnosis yesterday and Molly thinks I could cope with staying on a boat, as it’s safely in the marina. So could I have a look at it?

‘Sure, whenever you’re ready.’

‘Thanks. I’ll ring you when things are calmer. Bye.’

Three days later Jeanne was sitting in Molly’s study opening the file containing Wilhelm’s letters. She felt ready to read all the remaining ones, hoping to find clues as to what had happened between him and her gran. And their baby.

She had just started reading when her mobile rang.

‘Hi, Jeanne, it’s me. Thought I’d check how you are as it’s been a while since we spoke.’

‘Oh, hi Marcus. Not been too great, actually.’ She told him about the baby.

‘Blimey! Your family’s certainly not boring is it?’ he chuckled and she flushed with anger. How dare he! It wasn’t funny, it was very sad.

‘Look Marcus, it’s been very upsetting and I don’t appreciate your levity. I’m busy and I see no point in continuing this conversation. Goodbye.’

Before she could cut him off he interrupted. ‘Hey, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I didn’t realise you’d take it so personally. And you haven’t told me how it went with your agent.’

She told him about the contract and he whistled appreciatively.

‘Wow! That’s great news, I’m pleased for you. How about we go out to celebrate sometime this week? And I’ll make it up to you for that crass remark. Please say yes,’ he begged her.

‘No, thanks, Marcus. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to see each other at the moment. I really am busy and have a lot on my plate just now. Bye.’

This time she disconnected him before he could say any more. She knew she should tell him face to face that she no longer wanted to go out with him but was not feeling strong enough just now. She’d deal with it later. Still feeling annoyed and upset, she made herself some coffee before settling down with the letters again. They were disappointing with no real news in them. Loving and passionate as ever, Wilhelm was clearly still over the moon about becoming a father and there was more talk of the war coming to an end. He had so many plans that Jeanne gulped and wiped away a tear as she read his joyful words. There was nothing to suggest that Gran had grown cooler toward him. They still met up regularly but apparently only for a few moments each time. The final letter, dated 15th February 1945 was heart-breaking.

Yesterday so good it was to see you. My Valentine you truly are! The card you to me gave I will treasure – may not meet until after our Baby is born – take care – let us pray your parents us forgive – they will surely their Grandchild love – pity your mother in hospital is – many are sick now…

 

Jeanne couldn’t stop the tears as she read it again and again and it was only the noise of her mobile ringing that made her stop and blow her nose.

‘Hello, Miss Le Page. Inspector Ferguson here. Just to let you know the results of the post mortem. Are you still there?’ he asked into the silence.

Jeanne took a deep breath and said, ‘Sorry, Inspector. Please go on.’

‘It seems you were right. The baby, a girl by the way, was born a couple of weeks before full term and was still-born. The umbilical cord was still around its neck. There’s no suspicion of any criminal act. The consultant pathologist also thinks that the baby was born during the war as it was wrapped in a piece of Red Cross blanket issued to the islanders in the final winter of the Occupation. But further tests will confirm that. Are you all right?’ he asked, as Jeanne let out a gasp.

‘Yes, yes, I…I’m fine.’

‘Right. I know this must be difficult for you. At the Inquest the magistrate will want to confirm the baby’s identity before giving permission for burial. We will need sight of the letters you mentioned and, ideally, we need to match your DNA with that of the baby. If we can show that she was related to you then I think that would satisfy the magistrate. Technically, you’re next of kin,’ he said gravely.

‘Oh! I hadn’t thought of that! But you’re right, unless Wilhelm is still alive, of course.’

‘Hmm, if he is alive and we could trace him, then that would provide conclusive evidence. But under the circumstances the proof of a connection between you and the child should be sufficient. May I ask you to provide us with a DNA sample? If you could pop into the station sometime today and bring those letters along, I’d be grateful.’

‘Yes, of course, but I’ll need the letters back.’

‘No problem. We’ll take copies of the relevant ones to keep on file. By the way, the builders can return to the cottage. It’s no longer a crime scene. I’ll catch up with you later.’

Jeanne stared at the letters in front of her for some time after switching off her phone. The pieces of the jigsaw were slowly fitting together but there was still one piece missing. Oh, Wilhelm, what happened to you? And are you alive – or dead?