chapter fifteen

 

Guernsey, June 1940

 

The family’s valuables now safely hidden, Leo was marginally more sanguine. Whatever might happen to him, at least Teresa would inherit most of his family’s wealth, to be passed to little Judith in the future. The rumours flying around since the mass evacuation of nearly half the islanders were not encouraging since most predicted an early invasion by the Germans.

On the evening of Tuesday 26th June Leo arrived home from work after a mind-numbingly quiet day. Until a few days ago, he would have been looking forward to an evening with Teresa and spending some time with Judith. Now all that awaited him was the meal prepared by the housekeeper, Elsie, and an evening with only the wireless for company. As he parked his beloved MG sports car around the side of the house, he wondered how long he’d have petrol to drive it. Sighing, he stood for a moment looking over the garden Teresa had spent so much time on, making it her special project. Flowers and shrubs flourished alongside an area devoted to vegetables and fruit. At least he wouldn’t starve if he were to take good care of it.

Inside, the entrance hall was cool and welcoming, the flagstone floor covered with a bright Turkey runner, chosen by Teresa in place of the old faded brown rug his father hadn’t bothered to change. Her influence was everywhere; from vases filled with flowers from the garden, now courtesy of Elsie, to bowls of potpourri on the hall table. He threw down his briefcase and perched his hat on the hall stand before walking along the corridor to the back and the kitchen.

‘There you are, Master Leo. You’re looking a bit peaky, if I may say so. Not going down with something, are you?’ Elsie’s round face creased in concern as she studied him, wiping her hands on her apron. Behind her dirty pots were soaking in the sink while the aroma of baked fish filled the air.

‘No, I’m fine, Elsie. Just worried about what’s going to happen. Like all of us.’ The silence was broken by the sound of the old grandfather clock ticking away at the bottom of the stairs. Leo shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, placing it carefully on the back of a chair. Since Teresa had left, he’d taken to eating in the kitchen instead of the formal dining-room and didn’t feel the need for formal attire.

‘Shall I pour you a glass of nice cold beer, Master Leo? It’s been a hot day today, hasn’t it?’ Elsie pointed to the jug of beer she’d placed ready for him, and he nodded his thanks. While he took a welcome swallow, Elsie served up his supper of baked fish, fresh carrots and beans and boiled potatoes. Although plain, it was well cooked, and Leo appreciated Elsie’s efforts. She’d been with the family for years, and her stiff movements as she shuffled around the kitchen reminded him she was well into her seventies.

‘This looks wonderful, Elsie, thank you.’ He cleared his throat, ‘You are sure about carrying on here? After all, you have your Bert to look after.’ Leo took a bite of the fish, which melted in his mouth. He knew he was selfish, and he didn’t want to lose her but was conscious of how much she had to do.

Elsie looked shocked.

‘Why, of course, I’m sure! As long as I’ve breath in my body, I’ll be round every day as I’ve been these past forty years or more. I’ve heard tell as we may have to ration our food soon, particularly if them Germans arrive, but I’ll still cook and clean for you.’

She held herself straighter as she went back to the washing-up and Leo smiled to himself. Elsie was the one constant in his life, looking after him since his mother died in childbirth and taking on the role of housekeeper with the help of a maid or two and a man for the hard work. Thanks to the war, now there was only Elsie.

‘Right then, I’ll be off. There’s an apple crumble warming in the oven for your pudding, Master Leo. You make sure you eat everything up, now. I’ll be back tomorrow as usual.’ She gave him a nod before shuffling out of the kitchen. Her cottage was five minutes up the lane, shared with her husband, Bert, known by all as a lazy man who had scraped a living as a farm labourer until old age had given him an excuse to stop. Leo finished his meal and poured another glass of beer from the jug, before leaving the plates to soak.

He decided to take a turn in the garden while there was enough light, settling on a bench overlooking the view down the valley. To him, it was one of the most magical spots on the island, hidden away from passing traffic, with only birdsong breaking the silence. Not that many vehicles used the nearby road, with the local farmers preferring their horse and carts. Leo was sipping his beer when he was overwhelmed with a sense of foreboding. As if on cue, a black cloud appeared out of nowhere, obliterating the sun. Leo shivered and went inside to make a phone call.

‘Good evening, Mr Spall.’

‘Leo, my boy, how are you? The Jerries haven’t landed yet, have they?’ His father-in- law’s gruff voice echoed down the line.

‘No, sir. In fact, I was hoping you might have heard something from your brother at the War Office.’

‘Afraid not. Personally, I think it’s a damn disgrace we’ve left your wonderful islands unprotected. To think of part of Britain being occupied! Damned disgrace, I call it. Now I expect you want to talk to Teresa, hmm? I’ll call her. You take care of yourself, my boy.’

Leo was fond of Teresa’s father, a gentleman farmer with sprawling acres in Suffolk. At least his little family would be safe and well cared for.

‘Leo! Lovely to hear from you. I keep expecting to learn the lines have been cut.’ Teresa sounded out of breath as if she’d been running.

‘Not yet. How are you both?’ They spent several minutes talking about not very much, just wanting to hear the other’s voice and he finished by saying he’d call the following evening. Unsettled by the call, Leo sifted through his gramophone records to find something uplifting, choosing a D’Oyly Carte production of HMS Pinafore and settled down in his armchair with the remains of the beer. As he listened to the music, his mind drifted back to the first time he met Teresa, three years before.

‘May I introduce you to Mr and Mrs Spall and their daughter, Teresa? They’re here for the summer, and I’ve offered to show them around.’ Clem, an old friend of Leo’s, smiled as he introduced them at the dinner party. Leo, cudgelled into attending, was well known for being unsociable and not a fan of small talk. But Clem had insisted, saying he needed to make up an even number. Leo shook hands with the pleasant enough couple, before turning to their daughter, partially hidden behind her rotund father. As he caught sight of her sparkling blue eyes and wide smile, something extraordinary happened. He opened his mouth to say something, and nothing came out. Embarrassment curled up inside him as he stared, open-mouthed at the young woman in front of him.

‘Good evening, Mr Bichard. I’m so pleased to meet you and must say how beautiful your island is. You are so lucky to live here.’ She tilted her head as their fingers met in a firm clasp. Leo found her grip firm and cool and managed to find his voice.

‘Pleased to meet you too, Miss Spall. And yes, I am fortunate to live here. Where are you staying?’

As she told him about their rented home on the west coast, Leo found his attention straying from her words as he admired both her looks and intelligence. He guessed she must only be in her early twenties and as he was approaching forty, felt at a distinct disadvantage.

Clem’s wife had arranged the seating such that Leo was next to Miss Spall – or Teresa as she asked him to call her. The evening passed quickly, and Leo couldn’t remember having enjoyed himself as much for years. He even found himself offering to take Teresa out for a drive that Sunday and she accepted with a warm smile.

A year later they were married in her local church in Suffolk before returning to make their home in Guernsey, moving in with his widowed father, now too ill to leave the house. Leo had never been close to him, a Victorian by birth and manner, and when he died a few months later, found it hard to mourn him. Leo suspected his father blamed him for his mother’s death. In a way it was a relief to be his own man, running the business and enjoying the graceful home nestling in the lanes of the Talbot Valley.

Teresa happily took over the running of the household, aided by Elsie and their other staff, and hosting dinner parties which once Leo would have hated, but now enjoyed. He took pride in his beautiful wife as she laughed and conversed with their guests, throwing him a smile when he caught her eye. He never ceased to be amazed at how much his life had changed in little more than a year, enjoying for the first time in his life a woman’s love and companionship. When Judith, the image of her mother, was born in 1939, he surprised himself by how much love he felt for her, how much he wanted to protect her, this tiny scrap in his arms. Although happy to leave her care to Teresa, he was proud to be a father as well as a husband.

 

Leo was taking a stroll towards the market on Thursday morning when a German bomber flew low over Town and harbour, causing everyone around him to stop and stare in horror. He was equally stunned. Did this mean they were about to be invaded? The plane didn’t drop any bombs and flew off towards France. For the moment they were reprieved, but for how long? After making his purchases, he returned to his shop in a sombre mood.