There's a thin line between love and hate finished 28/8 p11.
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The CBB -> Ste Therese's House
#1: There's a thin line between love and hate finished 28/8 p11. Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 7:37 am
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This is set in Guernsey during the war. I'm hoping not to make too many huge mistakes with the period, but I'm trying to tell the story more than give a history lesson. Please feel free to point out any glaring errors.

Eva cycled up the hill as fast as she could, wondering why she never paid enough attention to the approach of the curfew. She had noticed how the time was flying, and told herself that she would leave Aimee’s house earlier than necessary, but they had been so busy on their dresses for the dance that she had, as usual, left herself a mere half hour to get home safely. Hot and puffing, she rounded the corner, not noticing the beautiful view from the top of the hill, just concentrating on drawing her next breath and minding the big pothole in the road that she knew was just around the bend. As she straightened out of the corner she noticed, too late, that a man was coming from the other direction and before she could do more than shout a warning, she had careered into him and the two of them, along with her bike, were lying in a heap on the grass verge.
Scrambling to her feet, Eva pulled the bike off of the man, stammering out an apology. She eyed the large rip in the sleeve of his jumper with concern, knowing how difficult it was to get new clothes now. He got to his feet, ruefully rubbing at the grass stains on his rather faded corduroy trousers. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, fine, thank you,” she said. “I’m really sorry, I feel dreadful for running you down like that.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said at once. “I’m all right and I’m sure it was just an accident.” He spoke French fluently, but she noticed that his accent was not the same as the people of Guernsey.
“Yes, of course,” she said, her attention on her bicycle now, for she still had a couple of miles to go and wanted to get home before her mother-in-law began to worry about her.
“Is you bicycle all right?” he asked, looking at the front wheel, which was rather buckled.
“I’m not sure,” she replied, wheeling it experimentally along.
“Would you like me to give you a lift home?” he asked her.
“No, you don’t need to do that,” she assured him. “I’ve already inconvenienced you enough.”
He fell into step beside her. “I’ll just see you over the top of this hill,” he said. “Then, if your bike isn’t up to it, we can put it into the back of my car. It’s just over the rise.”
Eva was surprised to hear that he had a car, but she said nothing. She walked up the last few feet and climbed onto her bike again. “It’s fine,” she told him.
“Go carefully,” he advised. “Goodbye, Miss…”
“Mrs.,” she told him, and she pedalled furiously away.

Last edited by Fatima on Mon Aug 28, 2006 5:02 pm; edited 39 times in total
#2:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 8:42 am
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New Becky-Fatima drabble! Hurrah!
#3:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 9:28 am
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Am intrigued already...and have first hand experience of cycling up those hills two weeks ago - they really are rather hard work!

Thank you Becky!
#4:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 9:51 am
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This looks good - I'm eagerly awaiting more, please, Fatima.
#5:  Author: KathrynW, Location: London PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 10:36 am
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Oooh...this looks great! Thank you Becky

*admires muchly the productivity*
#6:  Author: brie, Location: Glasgow PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 11:08 am
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this looks great fatima!!
#7:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Wed Jul 26, 2006 9:18 pm
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Am hooked already, Becky!
#8:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 6:04 am
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Thanks for your encouragement; here's the next bit.

Eva arrived home just before the curfew, but her mother-in-law was waiting anxiously at the door for her. “I’m sorry, I fell off my bike,” Eva explained.
“Are you hurt?” asked Fleur du Vallon with concern.
“No, I’m fine.” Eva removed her jacket and washed her hands and face at the big kitchen sink. “We’ve almost finished our dresses,” she said, putting on the kettle for tea.
“Good. It’s so kind of Janine Dumont to let you have one of those old gowns. I only wish we could give you such things.”
Eva flung her arms around the small, wiry woman who she had come to love so dearly. “You give me so much more,” she said, kissing her warmly. “In fact, you give me everything, Maman.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Fleur brusquely, but Eva knew that she was touched by her words. “Make the tea and I’ll call Jean.”
Eva made a pot of tea, not the precious Indian variety, but a Guernsey substitute, painstakingly made from bramble leaves. It did not taste as good as ‘real’ tea, but it could be as refreshing and as comforting if one did not think too carefully about it. She put the cups of tea on the kitchen table, which Fleur had already set, and then Fleur reappeared, wheeling in her husband Jean, who was confined to a wheelchair.
Eva had lived with Jean and Fleur for four years, since her husband had enlisted in the British army and gone off to France to fight. He had been killed just a few short weeks later, before Eva had been his wife for six months. To her secret shame, thinking of Emile no longer filled her with sadness and regret. When the telegram had arrived she had been prostrated with grief, as had Emile’s parents; it had been made a lot worse by the absence of a body to bury. The memorial service had been moving, but it had not really given them closure as a funeral would have done. Although they had only known one another just over a year, Eva had been head over heels in love with Emile, the first young man she had ever been interested in, and despite the frightening things happening on the continent, she had believed that they would be living happily ever after as so many of her old school friends seemed to have done.
Jean and Fleur had welcomed their new daughter-in-law and never once said anything about her being Austrian by birth. They had never done anything to counter the rumours that hinted at her French ancestry, knowing that it would be easier for Eva if their friends and neighbours thought she was French. With her love of animals and the knowledge she had gained from working with a veterinarian, Eva soon became well known to the nearby families, helping them with cows that were not producing enough milk or dogs that seemed off colour or any other concern they had about their pets. Her quiet, polite manner and air of dignity appealed to them all, and she was accepted as if she had been Fleur and Jean’s daughter rather than just the wife of their son.
As the likelihood of a German occupation of the Channel Islands increased, Jean and Fleur urged Eva to leave, but she told them that she had nowhere else to go. She knew that her parents had been killed just after the Anschluss, and there was no way she wanted to return to Nazi occupied Austria anyhow. In England she had enjoyed her work and had had plenty of friends, but it would not be easy to return and pick up the pieces of her life. And then the decision was taken out of her hands. Fleur slipped down the stairs and broke her leg and Eva absolutely refused to leave until she was up and about again. Not long after that, the Germans arrived and so Eva stayed on.
#9:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 9:27 am
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Eeeekk!!! I hope the Nazis don't realise that Eva's Austrian by birth! Rolling Eyes Thanks, Fatima.
#10:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 9:34 am
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Poor Eva. Crying or Very sad

Thanks Fatima.
#11:  Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 12:33 pm
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Ooh! A new Fatima drabble. Good.
#12:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 2:17 pm
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Poor Eva. I hope she can be happy again. Thanks, Becky.
#13:  Author: Chelsea, Location: Your Imagination PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 3:08 pm
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Looks good.

It took me until almost the end of the second post to work out who it was Embarassed
#14:  Author: brie, Location: Glasgow PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 4:43 pm
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Chelsea wrote:
Looks good.

It took me until almost the end of the second post to work out who it was Embarassed


me too,

this is looking great though!! I can't wait for more...
#15:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 5:04 pm
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Thanks, Becky. It's great to learn more about Eva and I'm really enjoying this drabble so far.
#16:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Thu Jul 27, 2006 9:52 pm
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Ooo - this looks good!

Thanks Fatima Very Happy
#17:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 5:22 am
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Yes, perhaps I should have said that Eva von Heiling is the main character in this. Sorry for picking someone so obscure, but I wanted someone with no ‘future’ to account for! A little more background now; we'll get to the story soon!

Eva returned to St. Peter Port the next afternoon and spent a couple of hours happily sewing with Aimee. She and Aimee were of an age and had become firm friends after meeting in the library one day. Aimee had lived in St. Peter Port all her life and loved to hear Eva speak of England and Austria. Aimee had a group of friends, who also welcomed Eva to their midst, and together they attended the popular tea dances that had come into fashion following the implementation of the curfew. They also baked together, experimenting with the potato flour they were obliged to use and thereby saving on fuel, and each week they tried to make bread, enjoying the challenge of utilizing unusual ingredients. They also enjoyed altering old clothes they found in their parents’ attics or making dresses out of old curtains or other material they discovered. The war might be making their lives more difficult, but they still intended to enjoy themselves as far as possible.
Aimee’s mother ran a teashop in St. Peter Port, the Lihou Tea Garden. Before the war it had been a very successful business, but as food and other commodities ran short, it became more and more difficult to keep it open. The younger people were very tolerant of the falling standards of the tea served, though, for they enjoyed having a place to meet and often provided Mrs. Dumont with cakes to sell. The Germans didn’t seem to mind the café remaining open, for they had a rather nice black market restaurant across the street where they enjoyed the best of the island’s food, and the islanders were happy about the restaurant because it meant that the Germans did not frequent their own favourite places.
Sometimes Eva felt guilty for enjoying the simple pleasures she shared with her friends. Other friends were undoubtedly suffering great hardships, living in fear of bombing raids or harsh German reprisals. There were rumours of camps across Europe where people were taken and never heard from again, just for expressing the hope that the Allies would soon be victorious. When she mentioned these concerns to Fleur and Jean, they told her that it was good for morale to have fun; there was little enough pleasure to be had from most activities now, so she should go ahead and enjoy herself with her friends. She certainly worked hard enough in the garden and the kitchen to deserve time to herself.
Something that made Eva feel even guiltier was her growing friendship with a young man a couple of years older than her, Luc Gallienne. Luc had been at school with Emile and had then gone to Paris to train as a doctor and he now worked at the seriously understaffed hospital in St. Peter Port. He had a small car by virtue of his status and generally came to collect Eva if they were going to be meeting up with their other friends. He was very courteous and polite, but he had a great sense of humour and Eva liked him very much. It was just difficult to think of living under her mother-in-law’s roof and going out with another man.
Eva’s dress, cut down from an old bridesmaid’s dress that had belonged to Janine, was of blue satin and they had altered it to be very fashionable. She was thrilled with it, for it was quite the prettiest dress she had seen since the war broke out, and although she could in no way be described as vain, Eva liked to look attractive and now seldom managed it. Her clothes were mostly worn and old, often patched and darned, too, and it made a pleasant change to have something pretty to wear. As the curfew had been returned to its normal time, the dance was start in the early evening, and Luc had persuaded Eva to let him pick her up at seven o’clock, so Eva took the precious dress home with her and showed it off to Jean and Fleur that evening.
#18:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 8:40 am
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Ooohh!! I hope Jean and Fleur don't make life difficult for Eva, and that she can have her doctor like a good CS girl should.
#19:  Author: brie, Location: Glasgow PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 10:43 am
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Thanks fatima. Eva seems really nice so far!
#20:  Author: dackel, Location: The Big Wide World (aka London) PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 1:01 pm
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This is really good, as usual - I always love your drabbles, Becky!


Can't remember Eva von Heiling at all, though, and don't have access to any CS books right now - which ones was she in?
#21:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 1:07 pm
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She was pets prefect when Jo Bettany was head girl; according to the A-Z she was in Head Girl, and Jo, Camp, Exploits and New House. I deliberately chose her because she was so unknown - a sneaky way of being able to do what I like with her!
#22:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 2:13 pm
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This is great, Becky. Nice to find out more about Eva.
#23:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 3:25 pm
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By the time Saturday evening came round, Eva had washed and set her hair, polished her nails and put on enough make-up to make herself feel very glamorous. Jean and Fleur exclaimed in delight when they saw her come downstairs to wait for Luc, and both wished her a wonderful evening.
“You know Emile wouldn’t want you to sit at home,” Fleur said, catching Eva looking wistfully at the precious photograph on the mantelpiece. “He’d want you to be happy, Eva.”
“And Luc is a fine young man,” added Jean.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at them both. A moment later they heard a car stop outside the house and then Luc was knocking at the door. “Don’t worry,” Eva told them. “I’ll let myself out. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” they replied, as she slipped out to meet Luc.
Luc was tall and dark, with an air of determination and capability, and possessed of the most lovely brown eyes. He smiled as Eva appeared at the door, but when he saw how beautiful she was looking he exclaimed, “You look fabulous, Eva!” instead of the more conventional greeting that he had planned to utter.
Eva smiled at him, flattered by his sincerity. “Hello, Luc,” she said, following him out to his car, a rather old vehicle, but reliable nonetheless. As they drove to St. Peter Port Luc told Eva about his mother’s recent efforts with potato bread and Eva chuckled. “We seem to spend all our time talking about food,” she observed.
“And thinking about it,” he agreed. “I spend hours fantasizing about an enormous steak with piles of vegetables and chips and a fabulous cup of coffee afterwards.”
Eva sighed. “Yes, that would be rather wonderful,” she agreed.
“When the war’s over, as soon as we can, I’ll take you to a restaurant and buy you a steak dinner,” Luc promised.
“I shall hold you to that,” she laughed. “My mouth’s watering already!”
Luc parked near the Lihou Tea Garden and they dashed inside, for it was just coming on to rain. Aimee and their other friends were already there, sitting at a table in the corner and sipping Janine’s delicious home made bramble wine. They greeted Eva and Luc warmly and obligingly moved up to make space for them to sit down, and David Graham, Aimee’s boyfriend, went off to procure drinks for them. A gramophone was playing and several couples were already dancing, and Eva thought that if you ignored the bramble wine, you might even be able to believe that there was not a war on, for everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and most people were surprisingly well dressed.
Marie and Elaine were having a rather heated debate about the correctness of having such frivolous dances in wartime, while James and Laurent were conducting a whispered conversation that Eva was glad she could not overhear. They were the two about whom she was most concerned, for they took delight in letting down the tyres of German vehicles and painting the ‘V’ sign on them, and Eva knew that sooner or later someone would catch them and they would get into a lot of trouble for it. They didn’t listen to anyone’s warnings, though, claiming that they had to do something to help the war effort. Sylvie, a quiet, dark haired girl who Eva liked very much, was gazing thoughtfully around the room, her expression unreadable.
David passed Eva a glass of wine and then took Aimee off to dance. Aimee had admitted to Eva that she hoped David would ask her to marry him and from the way he looked at her, Eva suspected that he would be doing so before too long. Laurent and James stood up and disappeared out of the back door, leaving Sylvie looking anxiously after them. Marie and Elaine stopped arguing and looked around uneasily.
“They are going to get caught one of these days,” said Marie, sounding concerned.
“It is difficult though,” said Luc thoughtfully. “I mean we’re stuck here, nothing much to do and no way of helping the war effort. Sometimes I think they’ve got the right idea.”
“But what they do makes no difference,” said Sylvie. “It irritates the Germans, but doesn’t hinder them in any way. And if they are caught they’ll be imprisoned and we’ll have to suffer the reprisals.”
“They don’t care about that,” Elaine reminded them. “I think that they’d like to be imprisoned. Then they’d know everyone could see how they were trying to get rid of the Boche.”
“Come and dance,” Luc suggested, turning to Eva.
Eva shook her head. “I can’t. It doesn’t seem right somehow.”
“Sylvie? Elaine?” Luc was quite determined to think of something else.
“I will,” said Elaine, and she stood up and went off to dance with Luc.
Marie moved around the table and took Sylvie’s hand. “Don’t worry about them,” she advised. “They’ve got nine lives at least.”
Eva listened with half an ear as Marie tried to distract Sylvie, mulling the question over as she had done so many times before. Guernsey was so small that it had been impossible to organize effective resistance to the Germans, and yet a good many people felt the same as Laurent and James. It was difficult to sit around and watch the occupying force strutting around, but it was the safe option, and that was how people with families came to terms with it.
Suddenly Laurent and James returned, their hair little damp and a suspicious splodge of colour on James’ shoe, but they grinned at the three girls. “You don’t need to look so worried,” said James irrepressibly. “Come and dance, Marie.”
Laurent took a happier looking Sylvie off to dance and Eva watched them, sipping her bramble wine and wondering exactly what they had done this time.
#24:  Author: brie, Location: Glasgow PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 4:29 pm
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Shocked oh dear..... thanks fatima, im really enjoying this
#25:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Fri Jul 28, 2006 4:36 pm
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I hope they don't get caught. They could get into a lot of trouble!
#26:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 5:13 am
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“Excuse me, Madame.”
Eva turned and found herself looking at the man she had run down on the hill. “Oh, hello,” she said, surprised to see him. “I’m so sorry about the other day.”
“Please forget it,” he said, smiling at her. “I wondered if I might ask you to dance with me?” He offered her his hand and she had stood up and taken it before she had quite realized what she was doing. He took her in his arms just as the music slowed, and she found him suddenly very near. He was a serious looking man, although the smile he gave her changed his whole face, making him almost handsome. His hair was light brown and his eyes were a very dark blue, and he was so tall that Eva could scarcely see over his shoulder. They danced in silence for a moment, then he looked down at her. “I thought people had given up having fun,” he said.
“No, we haven’t given up, we just don’t get as many opportunities for fun now,” she answered. “Where are you from?”
“From Alsace,” he replied. “Just outside Strasbourg.”
“And what brings you to Guernsey?” she asked, for it was unheard of to have strangers visiting.
“I’m on holiday,” he told her. “I was shot and have been recovering.”
“Oh,” she said, still a little suspicious of him.
“What’s your name?” he asked a little while later.
“Eva du Vallon,” she answered.
“I’m Paul Rousseau,” he told her. “And I’m really pleased to meet you.”
Eva smiled at him, wondering if he could perhaps be a member of the French Resistance about which so many rumours were heard. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said.
Eva danced with Paul for a long time. Somehow it felt very comfortable to be held by him and to make quiet conversation about the beauty of Guernsey and the numerous wild birds you could see, or the pre-war joys of London, tea at the Ritz and dinner in the Savoy. Not that Eva had done much dining at the Savoy, but she was only too able to imagine the lovely meals they would serve and to laughingly tell Paul of the discussion she and Luc had had about food just a couple of hours earlier. As she mentioned Luc, Paul felt able to discretely press the subject and to discover that Eva’s husband had died some years earlier; he commiserated sincerely with her, for his own brother had been killed when the Germans had crossed the Maginot Line. He was relieved to hear that she did not have a husband on the scene, though, for he had enjoyed her company very much and knew that he wanted to see her again.
They drank a glass of bramble wine and Eva glanced across to the table where her friends were sitting. Luc was looking wistfully across at her and she realized that she had behaved very shabbily towards him. He had escorted her to the dance and yet she had abandoned him. She glanced at her watch and was shocked to realize that she had been with Paul for nearly two hours, yet it seemed a mere few minutes. He was easy to be with and she was saddened to think that she would have to head back home shortly or risk keeping Luc out after the curfew.
Paul guessed at her concerns about the curfew. “Would you like me to take you home?” he asked her. “I still have my car.”
“It’s a long way,” she warned him.
“I don’t mind.” Paul finished his drink and stood up.
“I’ll just find my bag,” she said, and she returned to the table where Luc was now gazing mournfully into his half empty glass.
“Do you want to go home?” asked Luc, perking up as she appeared.
“Paul’s said he’ll take me,” said Eva, taking her handbag from the chair. “You’ll be able to stay a little later now, Luc. Thanks for bringing me. Goodbye.”
Once her friends had wished her goodnight, Eva followed Paul out of the café and along the street to the little car she had seen that evening on the coast road. “It’s a very humble car,” he told her with a smile, “But I promise it will get you home.” He opened the door for her and closed it once she was safely inside, then went around and got into the driver’s seat. He drove away, heading out of town along the road where they had met for the first time, giving her a quick grin as they rounded the corner where she had knocked him over.
“I thought you said to forget about that,” she reminded him, grinning back at him.
“About what?” he enquired, laughing now.
Eva laughed too, feeling as though she had known Paul for a long time already, not just one evening. She directed him back to her home and he finally pulled up outside. The house was in darkness, for Jean and Fleur were early risers who also liked to go to bed early. “Thank you so much for a lovely evening,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “I’d ask you in for coffee, but it will make you late, and we don’t have any real coffee, anyhow.”
Paul laughed. “I’d accept, but I don’t want to be late and I hate that ersatz stuff.”
“That’s just as well,” she said, wishing that he could come in, but knowing it was not even fair to ask. “Thank you,” she said again, and she opened the door.
“Can I see you again?” he asked before she could get out. “Perhaps I could pack up a picnic and we could go for a walk if the weather’s nice. I’d love to see Torteval.”
“That would be lovely,” she agreed at once.
“How about Monday?” he asked hopefully and when she agreed he arranged to meet her at around eleven o’clock.
Eva wished him goodnight and went up the path to the house, turning and waving to Paul before opening the door and disappearing inside. Once he had seen her close the door behind her, he drove away, his thoughts as full of her as hers were of him.
#27:  Author: brie, Location: Glasgow PostPosted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 8:04 am
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lovely~ thanks fatima,
i do feel a bit sorry for luc though..
thanks fatima
#28:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 10:32 am
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Poor Luc. But who is Paul; I'd hardly have thought that occupied Guernsey was an ideal holiday spot. Please be careful, Eva.
#29:  Author: Chelsea, Location: Your Imagination PostPosted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 2:24 pm
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Why do I fear that Paul is NOT a member of the Resistance and dying when the Germans "crossed the Maginot Line" could be read two ways Confused
#30:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 3:03 pm
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I hope Paul really is who he says he is. Can't help feeling he may be too good to be true, but that may just be my suspicious nature!
#31:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Jul 29, 2006 4:30 pm
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Hurrah a Becky drabble Very Happy

*eagerly looking forward to more*
#32:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 6:04 am
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Thank you for your comments. Very Happy

On Monday Paul arrived exactly as promised, and Eva ran happily out to greet him. She had spent most of Sunday thinking about him, remembering the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled and how happy she had felt in his company. It was the same happiness she remembered from her months with Emile, the kind of excitement that accompanied the joy of falling in love with someone and however much she tried to tell herself that Paul was just on holiday and that in one week, or two if she was lucky, he would be heading away from Guernsey and out of her life. If he still remembered her when the war ended, which was unlikely to say the least, he might think about returning to the Channel Islands to see her again, but she certainly could not pin her hopes on that.
“Hello,” he said, smiling as she got into the car beside him. “Aren’t we lucky with the weather?”
“Yes, it’s glorious,” she agreed. “Where do you want to go?”
“I’ve heard that there are some lovely walks along the cliffs in Torteval,” he said, putting the car in gear and driving away.
“There are,” she said, for she had also enjoyed walking there and spending time sitting quietly, watching the sea.
He drove to Torteval and they parked beside the end of a path that led them right to the cliffs. They left the picnic in the car, planning to walk for a while before turning back and picnicking in the field. It was a lovely day, with a slight breeze, but otherwise as warm as August. The sky was a brilliant blue and occasional fluffy white clouds skidded across overhead, and the sea was wonderfully calm. They sauntered along, watching for birds and admiring the wildflowers growing beside the path. Often they had to walk one behind the other, but where the path was wider they strolled along together, talking easily about a whole host of things, but by tacit agreement skirting around any subject that might lead onto the war. It was very easy to forget the horrors that were going on less than a hundred miles away when you were somewhere so lovely and peaceful and in the company of someone to whom you were inexplicably yet undeniably drawn.
They turned back after an hour because Paul complained of feeling hungry, and retraced their steps along the path, spotting two beautiful blue butterflies as they returned to the car. The picnic was in the boot, in a basket, along with a rug for them to sit on, and they took it into a nearby field and spread the rug under a tree. Paul proudly unpacked the basket, taking out some homemade bread and a big lump of cheese, along with several of the beautiful tomatoes for which Guernsey was famous, and then, with a flourish, he produced a bottle of wine. He had also managed to acquire strawberries and apples for dessert, so Eva was impressed by the veritable spread laid out before her.
“I know it’s simple,” he said, breaking off a chunk of bread and passing it to her, “But it seems so much more appropriate to eat like this outside.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “And it’s lovely, thank you, Paul.”
He cut her a piece of cheese, poured the wine into tin mugs and then reclined on the rug as if he were an ancient Roman at a banquet. “My mother loved picnics,” he told her. “When we stayed with her family we would often take a picnic and play in the forest or try fishing in the stream. We didn’t catch much,” he remembered with a smile. “But we had so much fun. My father would play football with us and my mother would read. She was always reading.”
“Are they still alive?” she asked softly, for he looked very pensive.
“My mother is,” he told her. “But I haven’t seen her for a long time.” Something in his tone told her that it would not be a good idea to ask anything more, so she turned the conversation to more general matters again. He gave her some more cheese and splashed more wine into his cup, drinking deeply and then managing to look relaxed once again. “This has been such fun,” he told her. “Would you like to have dinner with me this week?”
“Yes, I’d like that very much,” Eva admitted.
“Tomorrow?” he suggested hopefully.
Eva briefly wondered if she ought to put it off for a day or two, but then she remembered that in a while he would be leaving and she would never see him again. It would be foolish to waste an opportunity of spending time with him when their chances of being together were so limited. “Tomorrow is perfect,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager.
Paul looked very relieved to hear her answer. “I feel as if I’ve known you forever,” he said, sitting up and taking her hand between his. “I hope you don’t think I’m going too quickly, Eva, but I’m really enjoying spending time with you.”
”I’m enjoying it, too,” she assured him.
Paul looked at her for a long moment before gently releasing her hand and passing her the punnet of strawberries. “Eat up,” he urged her. “I picked these myself this morning and they’re very ripe.”
“But they’re delicious,” she told him, enjoying the sweet fruit. “We grow strawberries, but they never taste this good.”
Once they had eaten the strawberries, they finished the wine and decided to leave the apples for later. Paul stretched out on the rug again and looked up at Eva. “You don’t want to walk again do you?” he asked lazily.
“No, I’m too full and probably a little tipsy, too,” she answered, wondering if it would be unseemly to lie down next to him.
“Thank goodness,” he said, reaching for her hand again. He drew her gently down onto the rug at his side and looked seriously at her, one arm supporting his head while with the other he lightly traced the line of her jaw. “I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy,” he said quietly. “The war’s been awful, seeing people die so horribly, hearing their screams, knowing that I’m responsible for committing some of these atrocities. Do you think I’ll ever be able to live with myself?”
“But you have no choice,” she reminded him, fighting the urge to take him in her arms and just hold him tightly in a feeble attempt to ease his pain. “We have to make sure that Nazism doesn’t keep its hold on the world.”
Paul nodded. “Nazism is evil,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for spoiling everything by mentioning the war, Eva.”
“It’s hard to ignore it for long,” she said realistically.
Paul leaned over her, his gaze meeting and holding hers, and Eva felt her heart lurch almost painfully within her as he moved closer still and brushed her lips lightly with his own. She slid her arms around his neck and he smiled at her, his voice soft as he said, “At least something good has come out of all this. Without the war I would never have met you.” He kissed her again then, his mouth soft on hers, making her forget her fears about the transient nature of their relationship.
When he finally stopped kissing her, Eva felt deeply content. She knew that she had fallen in love with Paul and that only sorrow could lie ahead of them, but she could not fight the attraction he held for her, indeed she did not want to fight it. He held her in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder, their fingers entwined, no longer needing to talk. It was enough to lie quietly, enjoying the tranquility of an afternoon in such an idyllic setting.
#33:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 9:46 am
    —
*happy sigh*

That was lovely - thank Becky Very Happy

*determined not to wibble about the future until absolutely necessary*
#34:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 12:59 pm
    —
That was beautiful, Becky. *hopes desperately they can be happy*
#35:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 2:06 pm
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Just read all of this - thanks Becky!
#36:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 2:51 pm
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It all sounds a bit too good to be true, but at least Eva has had a lovely afternoon.

Thanks, Fatima.
#37:  Author: KathrynW, Location: London PostPosted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 3:30 pm
    —
Thanks Becky, just caught up with loads of this and really enjoying this. I hope for Eva's sake that Paul is who is says he is...
#38:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 5:25 am
    —
Thanks for your comments.

Eventually it was time to go, and Eva felt almost sad as they got into Paul’s car and he drove her back home. “Come in,” she urged him as he pulled up outside.
“Just for a while,” he agreed, as reluctant to leave her as she was to see him go.
She took him into the kitchen where Fleur was washing some of their homegrown lettuce and tomatoes ready for tea, and introduced him to her mother-in-law. She was relieved to notice that Fleur seemed happy to meet him; she had not really doubted that Fleur and Jean would like to see her fall in love again, but it was good to have confirmation of this.
“Go on into the parlour,” said Fleur, “And I’ll bring you some tea.”
“Thank you, Maman,” said Eva and she took Paul through to their ‘best’ sitting room, only used for entertaining special visitors. They sat together on the pretty chintz covered settee and made plans to meet the next day in the small fish restaurant that was still flourishing thanks to the skill of the family that ran it. They caught their own fish and grew their own vegetables and although they had put up their prices there were still islanders who enjoyed eating there.
Fleur brought in the tea and Jean arrived a moment later, bemoaning the fact that their apple trees seemed to be weighed down with apples that he was unable to pick. Eva assured him that she would do her best to pick them all, perhaps asking a neighbour’s son to come over and help, and Paul offered to come back later in the week and give her a hand. He chatted easily with Jean and Fleur and then finished his tea and stood up, thanking them for their hospitality. Eva saw him out, blushing becomingly when he kissed her as they stood beside his car, in full view of anyone who happened to be looking, and then waved him off before going inside to help Fleur with the meal.
Fleur had been to the town that day, managing to get some chicken, which she had roasted for dinner, and so with some of Jean’s prize carrots and the salad they had a very nice meal. It was not until afterwards that Jean asked Eva about Paul. He listened carefully to everything she told him, and then he frowned.
“It seems rather odd, don’t you think?” he asked. “There are no holidaymakers now, Eva. The Jerries don’t let people go off and take a break as and when they like. They certainly don’t give them tickets to Guernsey.”
“He told me he’d been injured,” she said defensively. “And the air here is good for convalescents.”
“That’s as maybe,” said Jean. “I think you should leave him well alone, Eva. Goodness knows I want you to be happy, love, but I want you to be safe more.”
“I know, Papa,” she said, but her voice was filled with quiet determination. “He won’t be here for long, though, if he’s on holiday. I’ll see him for a week or two and then he’ll leave and forget all about me.”
Fleur patted Eva’s arm. “He certainly seems very nice,” she said, trying to find some middle ground. “He’s rather charming, isn’t he? And it is good to see you happy, Eva.”
Knowing that they were just concerned about her, Eva smiled. “I’ll be careful,” she promised, standing up and collecting the dirty plates together. “And it’s only for a couple of weeks,” she added, as much to remind herself as to remind them.
Eva cleared up the kitchen and then helped Fleur with the mending. As their clothes got older and older they needed more and more attention, and the two women frequently spent their evenings darning and chatting. Jean disappeared into his greenhouse again; he loved gardening and had had the greenhouse constructed to his own specifications so that he could easily access everything from his wheelchair.
Finally all the jobs were done, and Eva was able to head off to bed, where she lay awake for ages, thinking back over the lovely time she had spent with Paul. He made her feel just as she had done all those years before when she had been courted by Emile, feelings that she had thought never to experience again. He was strong and confident and yet somehow appeared vulnerable, too, and she knew that she wanted to get to know him better, and to help him come to terms with everything that he had seen and done during the war. He made her feel safe and happy and excited and she felt instinctively that she could rely on him. Eva ruthlessly squashed the nagging worries that were gnawing at the edges of her dream, unwilling to accept that there was anything suspicious about Paul’s presence in Guernsey. He was wonderful and she was going to enjoy every moment that they had together. And with that, she slid into sleep.
#39:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 7:43 am
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Hmm ... also having nagging worries!
#40:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 8:57 am
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I think Eva should listen to the nagging worries, not squash them. I foresee trouble ahead.
#41:  Author: KathrynW, Location: London PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 9:02 am
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There's definitely something strange about his appearance...

Thanks Becky
#42:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 9:08 am
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I don't want nagging worries! *stamps foot*

Take them away, please Becky Very Happy
#43:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 11:57 am
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Nagging worries usually make themselves known for a reason - I hope Eva's are unfounded.
#44:  Author: Phil, Location: London UK PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 1:38 pm
    —
Hmm! I like this! Smile
#45:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 6:10 pm
    —
Just caught up - thanks Becky.

*glares at the nagging worries*
#46:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Tue Aug 01, 2006 6:14 am
    —
Thanks for your comments and here's the next bit.

The next morning Eva did the housework and helped Jean in the garden, picking several pounds of apples which Fleur was planning to preserve that afternoon. Eva had arranged to meet up with Aimee in the afternoon, and so she set off for St. Peter Port just after lunch, feeling lighthearted as she sailed along the lanes towards the town. She allowed herself to forget all her doubts about Paul and to concentrate on the lovely evening she would spend with him. After all, whichever way you looked at it, their days were numbered, so there was little point in worrying about the future.
When Eva arrived at her friend’s house she found Aimee busily sweeping the carpets. Eva hung up her jacket in the hall and slipped a scarf over her hair, before fetching a duster and helping Aimee out with her chores.
“Eva, you have an awful lot to tell me,” Aimee warned, leaning on her brush and looking questioningly at her friend. “Who is your new friend and where did you find him?”
Eva chuckled. “Believe it or not, I ran him down on the way home last week,” she said, carefully moving the ornaments on the mantelpiece.
“Eva!” exclaimed Aimee, surprised. “How on earth did you manage that?”
“Well, I was a bit late so I was going flat out and he was just around the corner, so he didn’t see me coming and couldn’t get out of the way.”
“And how come he turned up on Saturday evening? Luc was a bit put out. Oh, it’s all right,” she added quickly, “He didn’t say anything, but he looked miserable.”
Eva sighed. Luc had been good to her and she did not like to think she was hurting him. “He’s called Paul,” she said, unable to stop a smile from spreading across her lips as she thought of him. “I’m having dinner with him tonight, as well.”
“And where’s he from?” asked Aimee.
“He’s originally from Alsace, somewhere near Strasbourg,” answered Eva. She told Aimee the little she knew about Paul and was rather disconcerted to see the same expression of mistrust on Aimee’s face as she had seen on Jean’s just last night. “Oh, don’t start telling me that I shouldn’t trust him!” she cried. “I’ve already had that line at home.”
“Then I won’t tell you,” said Aimee easily.
“It doesn’t really matter,” said Eva, breaking the silence that had fallen between them as they concentrated on their work. “He’ll be gone soon enough and I’ll forget about him.”
Aimee allowed Eva to change the subject after that, and together they soon had the place looking spic and span. Once they had washed, Aimee made tea and they sat together in the living room and Aimee told Eva what Laurent and James had been up to the night of the dance.
“They did their usual painting of ‘V’ signs,” she said, “But they tampered with the brakes of the smartest car outside the Black Market.” The restaurant had originally been called Harbour View, but with its reputation for procuring black market goods to supply the occupying forces with decent meals, the locals had started to give it the alternative name.
“And what happened?” asked Eva, surprised to hear that they had done something so dangerous.
“Nothing, as far as we know,” said Aimee. “There’s been no change to the curfew, so they must assume that there was a problem with the car. Either that, or what they did to the car made no difference.”
Eva shook her head. “Can you imagine what would happen if the car had gone over a cliff and killed the men in it?” she asked worriedly. “I do wish they weren’t so silly.”
They chatted amiably for a while longer and then adjourned to the kitchen to begin preparing the dinner for when Janine got home from the teashop.
Finally, it was time to go and meet Paul, so Eva took her leave of Aimee and headed off along the street and down to the harbour. The restaurant was at the water’s edge, and there was a tiny garden at the back that was perfect for summer evenings, when you could eat your dinner and watch the boats coming and going. Of course that did not happen with the war on, but the garden was a popular place nonetheless, not to mention being the perfect setting for a romantic dinner.
#47:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Aug 01, 2006 7:51 am
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Still wondering about Paul!
#48:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Tue Aug 01, 2006 4:10 pm
    —
Me too!
#49:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 6:10 am
    —
Patience is a virtue, I believe! All will be revealed in the fullness of time!

Eva walked towards the restaurant, excited at the prospect of meeting Paul again. He had been constantly in her thoughts since the dance and after their picnic she knew that she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. She found him sitting on the harbour wall, his eyes already fixed on her, and it was all she could do not to break into a run. He stood up as she reached his side, looking just as happy to see her as she was to see him. “Hello,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “Would you like to go for a walk first?” he asked. “It’s a lovely afternoon.”
“It is beautiful,” she agreed. “Yes, a walk would be really nice.” Paul drew her arm through his and they set off along the harbourside together. Despite some showers, the weather was proving a real Indian summer, and even the breeze off the sea was not enough to make them feel chilly. “What did you do today?” she asked as they reached the end of the quay.
“Not very much,” he admitted. “I went for a walk this morning and sat in the garden this afternoon. I did plan on reading, but I’m ashamed to admit that I fell asleep.”
Eva laughed as she looked up at him. “You do look a little sun burnt,” she realized. “It’s a good thing it’s September and not July!”
“What about you?” he asked her. “What did you do today?”
“I picked apples this morning,” she told him, “For my mother-in-law to preserve, and this afternoon I visited one of my friends. Her mother owns the Lihou.”
“Ah, the tea garden,” he recalled. “It’s a quaint place.”
“It was wonderful before the occupation,” she told him. “Aimee’s mother makes the most gorgeous cakes.”
“If only we could be at peace again,” he said fervently.
“Sometimes it feels as though the war will go on forever,” she said.
He squeezed her arm. “It won’t,” he said, confidence in his voice. “It can’t. We just have to think about afterwards, and to be sure that it will be over one day.”
“But it’s been four years,” she reminded him. “And there’s no end in sight.”
Paul turned round, drawing her back into step with him again. “Let’s go and eat,” he suggested. “And let’s forget the war. Tonight it’s just you and me, all right?”
“All right,” she agreed readily.
They walked back along the quay and found the little restaurant starting to get quite busy. The well-to-do residents of St. Peter Port liked to eat there, for they could be sure of a well-cooked meal of a better standard than they could produce at home, and Paul was glad that he had had the foresight to book a table for them. They were shown to a table in a corner of the room, and the limited choice of food meant that the selection of their meal was simple. They would have whatever fish had been caught that morning along with whatever the restaurant was able to serve with it. Paul asked for some wine and was shown the black market wine list, from which he chose a sweet Riesling. The waiter then disappeared and Paul was able to reach across and take Eva’s hand in his.
“How long will you be here for?” she asked him, wanting to know just how long they had together.
“I’m not sure,” he told her. “As long as I can. I don’t want to leave you, Eva.”
Hearing that made Eva forget her more important question, namely how come he had managed to have a holiday in the Channel Islands in the middle of the war. “I don’t want you to go either,” she told him. “I can’t bear the thought of you going back to the front and being killed.”
“I won’t be going back to the front,” he assured her. “The bullet passed through my lung and I’m not fit enough to fight any more.”
“Thank goodness,” she breathed, clasping his hand more tightly.
Paul smiled at her, for she seemed so young and enthusiastic and he still could not imagine what she saw in an old soldier like himself. And yet there was something that drew them together and he intended to enjoy it rather than question it. He could not remember the last time he had felt as much at peace as he did when he was with Eva, nor when he had last felt such an urge to cherish and protect someone. She was like an antidote to the awful things he had experienced while fighting for his country, helping him to forget the horrors he had witnessed and bringing some semblance of normality into his life again. “I thought we’d agreed to forget the war,” he reminded her gently, and then he deftly changed the subject, lightening his voice and her mood with it. “I also asked around and heard that there are some lovely walks around Jerbourg. Do you think I could persuade you to show them to me?”
“Yes, I think you could,” she said, smiling at him.
“Then shall we say Saturday?” he asked.
Although disappointed that she would have to wait until the weekend, Eva knew that she could not just disappear each day and leave all of the housework and the garden to Fleur and Jean. “Yes, Saturday will be fine,” she agreed.
The waiter arrived then, setting plates in front of them and opening the wine for them. The meal was very simple, but smelt delicious, and Eva could see the other diners tucking in hungrily. Paul poured her a glass of wine and then held out his own glass towards her. “Cheers,” he said, smiling as she tapped her glass against his.
They ate with enjoyment and soon Eva was putting down her cutlery with a sigh. “That was lovely, thank you, Paul,” she said. “I’m fuller now than I have been for weeks.”
Paul grinned at her. “You deserve to be, eating so fast,” he told her.
As most of the other diners finished well ahead of her, Eva felt no shame. “It was good,” she told him, sipping her wine in a far more ladylike manner.
Paul finished his own meal and sorted out the bill. “I suppose I’d better get you home,” he said reluctantly as they left the restaurant.
“It’s all right,” she told him. “I left my bike at Aimee’s.”
He took her hand, liking the way her slim fingers curled around his. “I’ll put it in my car,” he told her. “How can I just watch you set off on your own? Goodness knows how many unsuspecting hikers are loitering round corners out there. I can’t leave them at your mercy, Eva.”
Eva laughed up at him. “You are never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Probably not,” he admitted. “Please let me take you home, Eva. It doesn’t seem right to just watch you pedal off into the distance.”
“Well, if you insist,” she said, knowing that cycling home would seem very difficult after such a big meal.
They collected her bicycle from Aimee’s house and Paul managed to fit it into the back of his car. He drove her back to Jean and Fleur’s house, unloaded her bike and helped her to put it safely away in the shed. Bicycles were often stolen and as Fleur and Jean had no car, Eva knew it would be a struggle for her if her bike went missing.
Once the shed was locked, Paul took Eva in his arms as he had been longing to do since first meeting her beside the harbour. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” he said softly.
Eva wound her arms around his neck, glad that the neighbours did not overlook that particular part of the garden. “I should be thanking you,” she said, delighting in the way it felt to be held tightly against him. He was slim, but comfortingly solid and she had no doubts at all about him when he looked at her the way he was doing.
“I don’t know how I’ll wait until Saturday,” he said, his face now inches from hers. “Eva, you’re an enchantress. There, you see,” he went on as she smiled up at him, “When you smile like that you make me feel that I can be happy again. In fact,” he continued, “it makes me want to kiss you.” And he suited action to words.
When he finally released her, Eva couldn’t stop herself from smiling again. He really was so sweet and gentle and she understood exactly what he meant about Saturday being too far away.
“I’d better go,” he told her, his reluctance evident. “Take care.”
“You, too,” she said, reaching up to kiss him once more.
“Go on, go inside,” he told her, managing to let go of her at last. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Eva ran lightly up the path and unlocked the door, turning to wave before she closed it behind her. She heard the car door close, the noise of the engine starting and then he was driving away. With a little sigh, she turned off the kitchen light and headed upstairs to bed.
#50:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 7:42 am
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Hope he's not too good to be true!
#51:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 8:13 am
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So do I! Thanks Becky.
#52:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 9:37 am
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Fatima wrote:
She was like an antidote to the awful things he had experienced while fighting for his country, helping him to forget the horrors he had witnessed

But which country? Rolling Eyes

Fatima wrote:
“Take care.”

Indeed, Eva, please do take great care!

Thanks, Fatima.
#53:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 10:30 am
    —
Alison H wrote:
Hope he's not too good to be true!


Moi aussi...

Have just read all of this in one go and it's fab, thanks Becky. Although I am a little concerned about Paul...
#54:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 12:58 pm
    —
Just to put you out of your misery!

The next day Eva began washing the bed sheets, for it was another lovely sunny day and she knew they would dry well, and she ought to have done them on Monday. There seemed to be a veritable mountain of washing in fact, which would generate a mountain of ironing, and Eva knew that she was going to have a busy day ahead of her. Jean was out working in the greenhouse, and Fleur had gone to visit the neighbours, offering them some of her apple preserve in exchange for a pint or two of milk from their cow. Eva was quite glad to be alone, because she could stand by the sink and daydream to her heart’s content, recalling her dinner with Paul and thinking back over everything he had said and how he had looked. He had certainly managed to make her feel that she no longer wanted to be alone; she knew she would always treasure the memories of Emile, but the time had come to move on, and she definitely wanted to move on with Paul. Man of mystery he might be, but she knew from the way he looked at her, the way his face lit up when he saw her, that he was feeling exactly as she did and whatever he might be hiding did not matter to the way they felt about one another.
Eva pegged out the sheets and began on the rest of the washing, humming to herself as she worked, her eyes not seeing the clothes in the sink but herself and Paul having a picnic in Jerbourg. They could walk and talk and enjoy the beautiful scenery and after lunch they could lie quietly in the sunshine and pretend that they were the only people in the whole world.
“Eva!” Fleur had just come in and was rather breathless. “Tom has just got back from town! He said they’re giving an extra allowance of butter today.”
At once Eva was shaken out of her dream world. “I’ll go now,” she said, drying her hands on her apron and throwing it down on the table before going in search of the ration books. A couple of moments later she was pulling the bike out of the shed, calling goodbye to Jean and pedalling furiously off down the road. She made good time and was able to join the queue outside the shop, for news of extra rations always spread quickly and people rushed out to claim their share.
It was rather warm in the street and Eva wished that she had stopped to take a small bottle of water with her, for it seemed as though she might be there some time. She leaned against the wall and allowed her thoughts to return to Paul, wondering how she would keep herself busy until Saturday. The days were going to seem endless as she waited for Saturday to come around. Eva sighed, squinting in the bright sunlight, watching absently as some children ran up and down, fed up with standing quietly in the line with their mothers.
As she waited, Eva became aware of a rhythmic noise, like the sound of giant footsteps. She turned and found that people were heading quickly along the street and she heard a voice whisper, “Filthy Boche.” The women turned, feigning interest in the almost empty shop windows, calling their children out of the way, unwilling to witness the passing of the army of occupation. Eva found her eyes drawn to the band, belting out stirring Germanic music from gleaming trumpets, their equally shiny jackboots pounding the road in perfect time to the music. Behind them came the troops, presumably just arriving on the island and marching up from the harbour to their barracks in the town. Row upon row of young men, immaculately uniformed, mostly fresh faced and proud, marched past and near the end Eva found her eyes drawn to the face of their commanding officer. He was tall and slim and for a moment reminded her of Paul; he had the same serious expression, the same straight nose and delicately shaped mouth.
As their eyes met, Eva realized the awful truth. Paul was not the innocent holidaying Frenchman she had believed him to be, he was an officer in the Wehrmacht.
It was so hot in the street, with all the people and the brilliant sunshine. The noise of the band and the marching feet was so loud and Eva thought she might faint. She tore her eyes away from the man she thought she had been in love with and she knew from his expression that he had seen her. She was relieved to think that he couldn’t stop, that he had to carry on with his men and remain on duty with them so that he would not be able to sweep her into his arms and carry her off somewhere cool and quiet and lean over her with an expression of tender concern in his dark blue eyes.
“Are you all right, love?” came a voice from the growing mist that was swirling around Eva, and she felt someone lower her onto the front step of the shop outside which they were waiting. “Here, drink this.”
Eva sipped the water held to her lips and began to feel a little better. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “It’s so hot here.”
“Yes, all the butter will have melted by the time we get it home,” said another woman wryly.
The queue moved on, and Eva stood up so that she would not lose her place. She found it took all her willpower to remain standing and she had no extra energy to spare for thoughts of Paul. Not that she wanted to think about him just yet. There would be time enough to examine her folly when she was safely at home. Now she had to focus on staying upright long enough to get the precious butter ration and transport it back home. With painful slowness the queue moved on and finally Eva was able to collect their butter ration from the shop. She put it carefully into the basket on her bicycle, packing some newspaper around it to keep it as cool as possible, and then she set off on the journey home.


This picture was my inspiration for the story.
#55:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 1:04 pm
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Knew there was something not right. Poor Eva.
#56:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 1:19 pm
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I thought Paul was some sort of undercover agent, I never dreamt that he was still in the regular army. Poor, poor Eva.
#57:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 1:37 pm
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Oh, poor Eva!
#58:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 2:05 pm
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Oh dear.

Sorry to go off the point in the middle of Fatima's story, but did anyone else watch that series on ITV last year about the occupation of a fictional Channel Island by German troops, and the relationship between a local girl and one of the soldiers? This just reminded me about it! I think it was called Island at War.
#59:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 2:12 pm
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Sad Poor Eva.

Thanks Fatima. This is so good.
#60:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 5:06 pm
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Poor Eva Crying or Very sad
#61:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 9:53 pm
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Just read all of this Becky adn it's brilliant - I had a sneaking suspicion that he might still be in the army
#62:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Thu Aug 03, 2006 7:12 am
    —
By the time she reached home, Eva could hardly stand. She had cycled furiously all the way, wanting to wear herself out so that she could collapse onto her bed and sleep and not be haunted by Paul’s face under the dreadful military cap. She left her bicycle in the shed, took the butter into the kitchen and found Fleur busy with some vegetables for tea.
“Did you get it?” she asked, turning from the sink. Then she noticed Eva’s white face and she dropped the knife and the carrot she had been peeling, and hurried to her side. “Whatever’s happened?” she demanded, sliding an arm around Eva and guiding her to a chair.
“I saw Paul,” said Eva, putting her elbows on the table and burying her head in her hands, “And he was marching down Le Pollet.”
“He was what?” asked Fleur, and then suddenly understood what Eva meant. “He’s German?”
“Some kind of officer,” said Eva, her voice breaking. “Oh, Maman, what am I going to do?”
Fleur put her arms around Eva and held her tightly while Eva gave way to the storm of tears she had been wanting to shed since seeing Paul in his uniform. Attracted by the weeping, Jean came in from the living room and was startled to discover Eva in floods of tears. “There now,” he said bracingly, putting the kettle on and finding a little of their precious store of real tea. “I’m sure it can’t be so bad, Eva. Dry your eyes, girl, and have a cup of tea.”
“It is so bad,” she said, nonetheless sitting up and trying to quell the sobs that were shaking her slender frame. “You were right to be suspicious of Paul,” she told him, taking the handkerchief that Fleur was holding out to her. “He’s a Nazi.”
Jean put the teapot carefully on the table and wheeled himself closer to Eva. He took her hand between his and patted it gently. “At least you found out in time,” he consoled her. “You’ve only known him a few days and you will be able to put him behind you more easily than if you’d known him longer.”
“Jean’s right,” added Fleur, pouring milk into the cups and then pouring in the tea. “Put him out of your mind, Eva. You’re young and lovely and you’ll find someone else. He’s just shown you that you’re ready to find someone else.”
Eva bit back the response that she didn’t want to find anyone else, that she just wanted to discover that she had imagined Paul being in a Wehrmacht uniform, to find out that the man merely looked like Paul. She wanted Paul to walk in the door and tell her that it was just a joke, a rotten one at that, but a joke all the same. But she knew that it was not a joke. He had never been clear about so many things and that was why. He was German and he had deliberately set out to hide that from her, knowing how it would be sure to spoil his chances of an easy conquest of a girl from Guernsey. Collaborators were not popular in any of the occupied countries and no one would willingly bring that sort of trouble on their own head, so it was necessary for him to pretend to be something he wasn’t in order to get round that difficulty.
Eva sipped her tea and declared herself recovered from the shock she had received. She was unusually quiet as she helped prepare the food and then brought in all the washing and began the ironing, but Fleur and Jean took it as a sign that she was going to make a determined effort to put it all behind her and carry on with her life. They already knew that she was a brave girl, for they had watched her pick herself up after the death of Emile and get back on with her life and they knew that she could do the same again. They would be on hand if she wanted to talk to them, but otherwise they would give her the space that she needed to quietly come to terms with Paul’s betrayal.
#63:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Thu Aug 03, 2006 7:39 am
    —
Poor Eva. Wonder if he's going to come out with a sob story about not really being a Nazi?
#64:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Thu Aug 03, 2006 8:42 am
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I was thinking that too, Alison. *thinky noises*
#65:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Aug 03, 2006 9:53 am
    —
Yes, I'm hoping that there'll be some way around this.

Poor Eva Crying or Very sad
#66:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Thu Aug 03, 2006 4:19 pm
    —
Poor Eva!
#67:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Thu Aug 03, 2006 9:51 pm
    —
Crying or Very sad

Thanks Fatima
#68:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 5:31 am
    —
After tea, pleading a headache, Eva disappeared upstairs to bed. She washed and changed and stretched out on top of the bedcovers, for it was warm in the bedroom, and as she began to relax she let her thoughts turn to Paul again. She sighed, recalling her own worries when she had met him, and then her blithe acceptance of the lies he told her. Obviously she had been so pathetically eager for affection that she had thrown herself at the first available man who came her way. She remembered the way they had danced and her eyes filled with tears again. He had been so polite and friendly that it was hard to believe he was a dyed-in-the-wool Nazi. Eva realized that she was glad she had made the discovery for herself. If Aimee or Fleur or someone had told her that they’d seen Paul marching along with his troops she would not have believed them. He just seemed too decent to be one of the enemy.
Unable to lie still, Eva went to sit on the window seat, gazing out across the road and over the fields. She loved the view from her window, for she could watch crows nesting in the tall trees at the other side of the field and could see the wildflowers that grew in amongst the grass there. The sun set on that side of the house, too, and treated her to some glorious displays of colour.
As she watched some small birds in the field, a car came down the street and stopped outside the house. Eva recognized the car as Paul’s and watched with her heart in her mouth as he got out. He was dressed as she had seen him that first evening, in faded corduroy trousers and an ancient looking jumper, but she could not stop thinking of his face as she had seen it that afternoon, beneath the peaked cap of a German army officer. His face was grave she noticed, ducking behind the curtain as he glanced up at the house. He obviously guessed from her reaction that she was unimpressed by his deceit and knew that he would have his work cut out persuading her to trust him again. Eva pulled on a smart pair of trousers and a cardigan over her pyjamas, not wanting to feel at a disadvantage when she met him. She was determined to appear poised and cool, as if she had not cared about him in the first place and so was unmoved by his duplicity. And she had every intention of making him wait for her to appear. She sat at the dressing table and brushed out her hair, sweeping it up into a chignon and then applying her brightest lipstick.
Fleur knocked quietly at her door and slipped inside, obviously expecting to find Eva asleep and looking surprised to see her sitting before a mirror and beautifying herself. “He’s come to see you,” she said, scanning Eva’s face for some sign of her feelings.
“I saw him arrive,” said Eva, wishing she didn’t sound so unsure of herself. “I’m going to give him a hard time,” she went on, trying to inject some confidence into her tones, remembering how her school had always taught the girls not to be spineless jellyfish.
“You aren’t going to keep on seeing him?” asked Fleur, shocked. “He’s the enemy, Eva.”
“No,” said Eva, her smile watery. “I’m going to send him packing. I hate him for deceiving me and I’m going to hurt him as much as he’s hurt me. If he actually did care at all for me, that is,” she added, suddenly wondering if that had all been deceit, too.
“You don’t mean literally, do you?” asked Fleur, looking anxious now.
“No, Maman,” said Eva, her smile more natural now. “Tell him I’ll be down in a moment.”
Fleur patted Eva’s shoulder. “Good girl,” she said approvingly. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Once Fleur had gone back downstairs, Eva took a good look at herself in the mirror and gave herself a stern talking to. There was no way she wanted to let Paul have any chance to say something to make her change her mind about him and she concentrated her thoughts on her anger over the death of Emile and her parents and so many others, all because of Paul and his kind. Eventually, almost ten minutes after Fleur had left, Eva stood up and walked downstairs, her head held high. She found Paul in the parlour, standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back and looking out over the garden. As he heard her footsteps coming into the room he turned to face her, smiling at her in a way she remembered only too well.
“Hello, Eva,” he said, stepping forward to greet her.
“I saw you today,” she told him, proud of the way she sounded so cool and collected.
“I saw you, too,” he admitted.
“Rather a different scenario from the one you implied when we were talking together at the weekend,” she commented dryly. “’I come from Alsace’ you told me. ‘I’m on holiday’ you said.”
“I do come from Alsace,” he said, his eyes holding hers. “My mother is French and I was born there.”
“That makes it worse, then. You are a Nazi.”
“I’m not a Nazi,” he told her, and she could see that he really believed that. “My father was German and so my brother and I were obliged to join the Wehrmacht. We had no wish to join, but we had no choice either.”
Eva waved her hand dismissively. “That’s all irrelevant,” she told him. “The point is that you lied to me…”
“I never did,” he cut in. “I may not have told you the whole truth, but I never once lied to you.”
“You said you were on holiday,” she reminded him, fighting down the urge to scream at him.
“I was,” he answered. “I asked if I might come here a week or so ahead of my posting. My men arrived yesterday and so my holiday ended.”
“You let me think that you were French. You let me believe all sorts of things about you and none of them are true.”
“You never asked me if I was French,” he pointed out. “Eva, my nationality doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I think I’ve fallen in love with you. I thought you were falling in love with me.”
Eva shook her head. “No,” she said, not exactly proud of herself for lying, but pleased that she sounded so convincing. “I was just having fun. Goodness knows there’s little enough of that here.”
At last he looked less sure of himself. “Eva,” he said, his voice beseeching now, “You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do,” she said with finality. “I don’t want to see you again, Mr.…Whatever your name is.”
Realizing that she meant what she was saying, Paul sighed. “I won’t give up,” he told her. “I love you and I can’t just let you go.”
“I hate you,” she found herself saying, a note of passion in her voice that she just couldn’t suppress.
“Good,” he answered, seeming rather pleased to hear that. “Indifference would have been upsetting, but hate’s different. Hate can be turned to love.”
He stepped forward, suddenly seeming very tall and very near, and Eva hastily withdrew a few steps. Goodness only knew what would happen if she let him touch her or, worse still kiss her. “I’ll show you out,” she said, her voice icy once more. She turned and walked to the front door, unlocking it and holding it open for him. He followed reluctantly, fearing that if he left now he might never get another chance to talk to her, but she was obviously not intending to pursue their discussion any longer. He stopped very close to her and just for a moment she thought he was going to take hold of her and kiss her, but he didn’t. He looked at her sadly for a long moment and then walked slowly down the path to his car.
Eva let out the long breath she had been holding and closed the door, leaning weakly against it. Fleur came out into the hall to see what had happened, and Eva gave her a sad smile. “He’s gone,” she said. “It’s over.”
#69:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 6:47 am
    —
Interesting that Eva accepts that Paul believes he's not a Nazi.
The romance doesn't seem too salvageable at the moment -- but it doesn't say "The End" yet.

Thanks, Fatima.
#70:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 7:45 am
    —
Presumably she accepts that people back in Austria ended up in the armed forces without being Nazis, so maybe she can accept that Paul was too?
#71:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 9:16 am
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I wondered when Paul said that he was an Alsatian; wasn't that one of the areas which changed hands after the First World War? ( Embarassed Lottie, who wasn't taught twentieth century history. Embarassed ) It's difficult to see how they might work things out between them, though.

Thanks, Fatima.
#72:  Author: Sarah_L, Location: Leeds PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 9:26 am
    —
If I remember correctly, Alsace and Lorraine were taken by the Germans in the Franco-Prussian War in the mid-1800s and then given back to France in the Treaty of Versailles. I assume there would therefore have been plenty of Germans living there.

Looking forward to seeing how this relationship is resolved!
#73:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:00 am
    —
Alsace and Lorraine became part of the new German state after the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871, and France regarded it as a major humiliation. They were ceded back to France as part of the peace agreement at the end of the First World War, but there would've still been quite a lot of Germans living there at the time of the Second World War, as Sarah said. I think a lot of older people there still spoke German up until fairly recently - suppose there aren't that many people left now who were alive before 1918.

Will stop doing my historian waffle now!
#74:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 11:39 am
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Poor Paul! Sad

Thanks, Becky
#75:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 3:59 pm
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Poor both of them! Thanks, Becky.
#76:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 5:11 pm
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The word Alsatian makes me think of dogs rather than people from Alsace!

Over the next few days Eva stayed at home unless it was absolutely necessary for her to go anywhere. She did her usual jobs around the house and in the garden and then began on extra things, tidying out cupboards, washing curtains, anything that would keep her mind off of Paul. She worked as hard as she could so that when she got to bed at night she could lay her head on the pillow and fall asleep immediately. She certainly did not want to lie awake thinking of him, remembering the hurt in his eyes as he had left or replaying the whole sad scene in her mind, with different endings. She did her best to pretend to Fleur and Jean that she was all right, that she knew she had done the right thing by sending him away, but the worst of it was that she was not convinced of that herself. After all, she was Austrian by birth and that did not make her a Nazi. There were obviously good Germans just as there were evil ones and Paul was correct when he said that he had had no choice other than to join the army. But the fact remained that he was an enemy officer and she did not belong with him. He was in her adoptive country as a conquering hero and so she could not be with him. A few Guernsey girls had taken German boyfriends, but this made them very unpopular and Eva guessed that when the war finally ended their lives would not be very pleasant.
Thinking about it sensibly, Eva knew that the thing which had upset her the most was that Paul had not admitted to being a German soldier the first time they met. If he had called her ‘Fraulein’ or just let on with some little gesture, she would not have felt so angry with him. Instead he had given her information, which, while it might be true, was certainly misleading. He had encouraged her to think that he was a Frenchman and given her no clue to the real reason behind his visit to Guernsey. Eva was honest enough to know that she would never have agreed to dance with him if she had known he was German, though. She certainly would not have been tempted to go for picnics with him or let herself fall in love with him. But the bottom line was that he should have told her, he should not have pretended to be something he was not.
When she was obliged to go into town, Eva kept a very careful eye open for Paul, wanting to see him before he could see her. She did not want to run into him again and to find that she could not escape talking to him; she had said her piece and now she was going to put him out of her mind. True, that part of the plan was not working as well as she had hoped, but she had every intention of persevering with it until she had forgotten that he even existed. Despite constantly telling herself that she hated him, though, there were times when Eva woke in the middle of the night and found her thoughts filled with Paul. He was a good man, of that she was certain. He was kind and gentle and she loved him and wanted nothing more than to be able to forget all about the war and spend her time with him. She longed to see him again and tell him that she’d made a dreadful mistake sending him away and she yearned to feel his arms around her, holding her and making her feel safe and loved. But when daylight came she knew that she was deluding herself if she thought she had any chance of happiness with him. He was the enemy and she was right to have sent him away.
By Saturday Eva was still feeling wretched. She could not stop thinking about the picnic they were to have gone on and she knew that if she had not seen him in St. Peter Port in the week she and Paul would have had a wonderful time together. As she cleaned the windows Eva tortured herself with images of herself and Paul, holding hands on some quiet footpath, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying the chance to forget about their troubles and just get to know one another better.
“Are you ready to go?”
Eva jumped violently and almost fell off the stepladder she was standing on. She could have sworn that she heard Paul’s voice, so lost had she been in her dream world. She started again as someone caught her round the waist and steadied her and when she turned she found that she had not been dreaming; Paul had come to take her for the picnic as they had planned. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, climbing down from the ladder and glaring at him.
“We planned to go to Jerbourg,” he reminded her, not that she had forgotten.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said in a low voice.
She put the cloth into her bowl of water and headed back into the house. She was very disconcerted to find Paul following her inside, picnic basket in hand. He set it down on the table. “Don’t waste the lunch,” was all he said as he turned and walked out, leaving a very shaken Eva who was looking at the basket as though it was a bomb about to go off. She peeped out of the rather smeary window and watched as he got into his car, driving away without looking back.
Eva took her bowl of water and went outside to finish off the window, feeling surprisingly disgruntled. It was all very well to reject Paul’s advances, but she realized that he had come to the house expecting her to turn him down, otherwise why would he have brought the picnic basket from the car when he came to collect her. Now she had the awful choice of accepting his gift or wasting food; she was supposed to be the one with the upper hand, making him feel miserable, and instead he seemed to have some plan of his own which was far cleverer than hers.
#77:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 5:19 pm
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Oh dear, what else could Eva do? What a heartbreaking situation for her. Thanks, Becky.
#78:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 6:33 pm
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What a dilemma! Poor Eva.

Thanks, Becky
#79:  Author: Sarah_L, Location: Leeds PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 7:19 pm
    —
Poor Paul too. It must be so hard for him to be forced into the army and find he is hated everywhere he goes.

I'm holding out hope that Eva and Paul can be together. Since she is Austrian, maybe they'll go back to the continent after the war, so Eva won't be treated as a collaborator.
#80:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Fri Aug 04, 2006 8:26 pm
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Fatima wrote:
The word Alsatian makes me think of dogs rather than people from Alsace!



*Giggles*
That was exactly what I was thinking!

This is great by the way Becky!
#81:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sat Aug 05, 2006 6:02 am
    —
For the next few weeks Eva thought of Paul all the time and was angry with herself for doing so. She repeatedly told herself that she hated him and had even begun to believe that, but she still could not get him out of her mind. She went to St. Peter Port and imagined that she saw him around every corner and in every shop. She cycled along the quiet roads of the island and imagined that he would be around each bend. She never mentioned his name, though, and had started meeting up with her friends again, frequently escorted by Luc. Jean and Fleur, who discussed Eva in private, were glad to think that she had got over her unfortunate infatuation and hoped that she would find happiness with Luc. He was a lovely young man and had good prospects, for he was an excellent doctor and was well liked by his patients.
Towards the middle of October, while Eva was out in the garden chopping firewood, a car pulled up outside the house and two young German officers stepped out. Eva stopped and looked at them, wondering what on earth they could be doing, walking up the path to Jean and Fleur’s house. “May I help you?” she asked, feeling anxious about their presence.
“We need to speak to the householder,” the first soldier said, his English very heavily accented.
“One minute, please.” Eva dashed into the house, where Jean was indulging in his winter hobby, of woodcarving. He was very skilled and often sent consignments of carvings to a small shop in St. Peter Port, where they had been sold to the tourists before the war and were now sold to the occupying forces. She quickly explained about the soldiers and Jean went to the door to speak to them. Eva remained with Fleur, sitting next to her on the settee and holding hands tightly, their faces pale and scared. The arrival of the Germans at one’s home was never a good thing.
A few moments later Jean reappeared in the doorway, his face angry. “They’re foisting some Boche on us,” he said, disgust in his tones. “Some officer is going to be living here and we have to have a decent room ready for him by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What’s his name?” asked Eva with concern, her thoughts flying, as usual, to Paul.
“Major von something or other,” said Jean. “Von Wittelsbach or von Wittenberg or something.”
“I suppose we have no choice in the matter?” said Fleur, although she already knew the answer to that. Many people had been told to leave their homes altogether so that the Germans could live in them, and they knew that they were very lucky that they had not been asked to give up their home. “I suppose we’ll have to give him the back bedroom. It’s the biggest.”
“It’s full of boxes and cases though,” said Eva with a groan. “Where will we put them all?” Some of them were hers, she knew, containing her wedding dress and sundry other things that she had not wanted to look at or think about since Emile had died.
“We’ll have to go up and see,” said Fleur, knowing what Eva was worried about. “Jean, perhaps you’d better go and work out how we’ll feed an extra mouth. Goodness knows it’s difficult enough to feed us, let alone having to provide food for some strange man with a voracious appetite.”
Fleur and Eva went upstairs together and into the big bedroom. It was a well-furnished room, with a large comfortable bed and big wardrobes, all made of the same old, dark wood, and once tidied it would make a suitable room for the German officer. It had been Jean and Fleur’s room, but since Jean’s accident, they had moved to what had been the dining room, as it had been too difficult to get Jean up and down stairs. They moved Eva’s trunk and cases to her room and then began to look in some of the other boxes. The first contained books, which Fleur said had belonged to Emile, so they took them into Eva’s room as well, and she decided to arrange them on her bookcase. They found all sorts of other treasures, including some rather lovely dark red velvet curtains that the moths had started to devour, but Fleur reckoned that they could get enough good material from for some sort of skirt and jacket for Eva to wear during the winter.
A couple of hours later, dirty and dusty, but happy, Eva and Fleur left the room looking immaculate. They had several boxes still to open, but had put them in the tiny room that had been Emile’s study to examine them when they had more time. Now all they had to do was wait for the arrival of the officer, and try to get out of the habit of making disparaging remarks about the Germans and showing support for the Allies.
#82:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 05, 2006 8:47 am
    —
For a moment I was worried the soldiers were coming to see Eva with bad news about Paul Shocked

Really, really hoping Paul is the officer foisted on them.

Thanks, Becky
#83:  Author: Lucy B, Location: NZ PostPosted: Sat Aug 05, 2006 11:04 am
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Remembering a Somerset Maughn story with a similar setting (not sure which one) that did not have a happy ending, I'm wibbling a little, hoping it's not Paul.

But I'm sure that Becky wouldn't do something like that to us...
#84:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sat Aug 05, 2006 12:20 pm
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I don't know whether to hope that the officer is Paul or not! Thanks, Becky.
#85:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sat Aug 05, 2006 12:56 pm
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It's going to be very awkward if it is Paul ....
#86:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 4:39 am
    —
Eva made a tureen of tomato soup and some potato bread so that they had something to offer their ‘guest’ when he arrived. Jean took himself off to the greenhouse, even though it was really too cold to be out there, for he did not want anyone to think that he might be pleased about the arrival of the German. He was also a little anxious about the arrival of the Major for many reasons. He did not want to get into trouble with the authorities, so he knew he would have to watch himself carefully and not make derogatory comments about the Germans. He did not want the officer to interest himself in Eva, either, but she was a beautiful woman and if they were living under the same roof he was not sure how any man would be able to ignore her charms. And finally, there was the rather nasty matter of the tiny radio he had hidden in his greenhouse, and which he used to listen to the BBC. All radios had been confiscated, and he could be in serious trouble if he was discovered to be in possession of it. He was determined not to give it up, though, for he wanted to know how the war was going, perhaps more now he was having one of the German officers foisted upon him, but it would obviously be a lot more difficult to listen with a German living with them. Fleur checked for the hundredth time that the room was all a German officer could expect it to be, for she was worried that they would think it did not meet expectations and would punish her family in some way, or, worse still, throw them out of the house altogether. Her sister lived in St. Peter Port, but she had a tiny house and two unmarried daughters that lived with her and it certainly was not big enough to accommodate herself and Jean and Eva, too.
Just after four they heard a car pull up outside the house. Eva gave the soup a final stir and Fleur went to open the front door. There was still no sign of Jean; he had told them to call him at teatime and not a moment before. Eva listened as Fleur greeted the newcomer and heard the sound of heavy boots on the stairs. Presumably he was wasting no time in going to check up on his accommodation. She put the kettle on, reluctantly using some of their dwindling supply of Indian tea, and carried the tea tray into the parlour just as a young soldier came galloping down the stairs. He seemed to be no more than about eighteen and as he saw Eva he blushed furiously and slowed to a decorous walk.
“Fraulein,” he said, clicking his heels and bowing to her. “I have taken the Herr Major’s luggage to his room.”
Eva nodded and went on to the parlour, where she found Fleur hovering in the doorway, an anxious look on her face. Beyond her, sitting in a comfortable armchair as if he belonged there, was Paul. Eva realized that she ought to have guessed at the identity of the officer who wanted to live with them, but it had not really crossed her mind that Paul would be so insensitive as to come and live with her. As she entered, Paul stood up, his eyes meeting hers.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, wishing she sounded more indifferent.
“I had to have somewhere to live,” he explained, looking at her with the same need as a man dying of thirst might look at a glass of water.
“There are plenty of other places,” she told him, putting the tray down on the coffee table. “You aren’t welcome here.”
“But this is the place that has everything I need,” he said quietly.
Eva turned to leave, wishing that the sound of his voice did not make her feel all shaky inside. “You did lie to me,” she observed as she reached the doorway. “You told me your name was Paul Rousseau.”
“It’s Paul Rousseau von Wittenberg,” he replied. “I don’t use the last part, people tend to associate it with my father’s title. I prefer to be judged on my own merits.”
Eva walked out into the hallway, wondering how he managed to have such a good answer for everything she asked him.
“Eva,” he called, “Won’t you stay and have some tea with me?”
She bolted off to the kitchen, sitting down hurriedly at the table and drawing deep breaths to steady herself. She was shocked to discover how much he still affected her, even though she thought she had almost convinced herself that she hated him. For a moment she considered fleeing from Guernsey, but even if she could, she had nowhere else to go. She could not get to England and did not want to try to get to Austria. She could not really expect Fleur’s sister to put her up, but she did briefly wonder about asking Aimee if she could live with her. That would mean leaving all the housework to Fleur, though, and Eva knew that she could not do that. Fleur would not complain, and would tell Eva to go if she really thought she could not stay, but Eva knew she would always feel guilty if she abandoned Jean and Fleur just to escape her feelings for Paul.
With a sigh, Eva pulled herself together. She no longer loved Paul, so there was no problem. She was completely indifferent to him, and could easily live under the same roof as him. Giving herself a bracing pep talk she got up and went off to set the table in the sitting room, deciding that she would make Paul eat his meals alone there, while the family continued to eat together in the kitchen. In fact, she realized, it might be possible to avoid him most of the time, remaining in the kitchen and opting to sit either in the parlour or the sitting room, depending on where he was. Happy to have resolved things in her mind, Eva served the soup and went off to call Jean in for tea.
#87:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 10:08 am
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It is rather insensitive of him when she'd made it clear she didn't want to see him any more, but hope they can work things out.
#88:  Author: Ally, Location: John Bettany's Cabin! PostPosted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 10:30 am
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Iv just read this all through and it's wonderful Becky, thank you Very Happy Poor Eva, what an awkward situation for her.
#89:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 1:50 pm
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What a horrible situation for Eva. I don't think its going to be very easy for her to avoid Paul. Thanks, Becky.
#90:  Author: Sarah_L, Location: Leeds PostPosted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 2:46 pm
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Oh no, it's going to be so hard for Eva to avoid Paul. And it shows another of the evils of war. Paul and Eva could make a great couple, but the war means they have to deny their feelings for each other and perhaps lose their chances to be happy.
#91:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sun Aug 06, 2006 10:16 pm
    —
Fatima wrote:
I prefer to be judged on my own merits.”


I hope Eva can learn to look beyond the uniform and do that.

Thanks, Becky
#92:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 4:42 am
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Over the following weeks, Eva found that it made very little difference having Paul living in the house. He was polite to her, but nothing more, and most of the time she could avoid him. He went off most days in his uniform, and Eva even became used to the sight of him striding up the path, his boots shining and his uniform immaculate. He did have days off, though, which he spent reading quietly or walking if the weather was good enough, and although he often asked Eva if she would like to accompany him, she never did. She was busy with the increasingly difficult task of cooking decent food, as power supplies were becoming a problem, and as the weather worsened they had the difficulty of keeping warm, too. Paul did his best to help out, procuring extra food for them whenever he could, and trying to make sure that they had enough wood to keep the fire in the sitting room going when it got especially cold.
To Eva’s surprise, Jean seemed to accept Paul’s presence in their home the most easily. He had been very wary of the German to start with, hardly staying in the same room with him, but once it got too cold to hide in the greenhouse, he was obliged to see more of their guest. They started to talk to each other about the progress of the war and then other topics and soon Jean was talking as easily with Paul as he had once done with Emile. Fleur also found Paul pleasant, for he often insisted on doing things for her, like clearing the table or bringing in the firewood. In fact, it was only Eva to whom he was always perfectly polite and yet somewhat distant. Occasionally, when he thought she was busy with her sewing, or fathoms deep in her book, Eva would find him looking at her with an odd expression on his face, but as soon as he realized she was looking at him, the shutters would come down again and leave her wondering if she had just imagined it. And although Eva told herself she was pleased that he was no longer interested in her, she still felt saddened to realize that something as magical as the attraction that had been between Paul and herself seemed to have vanished without trace.
Eva tried to find time to visit Aimee, but it was not pleasant cycling so far in the rain and so she did not visit St. Peter Port as often as she would have liked to. Luc came to collect her for a couple of parties that they wanted to go to, and on those evenings she did notice that Paul looked rather disgruntled. Eva discovered that James and Laurent were still indulging in as many acts of sabotage as they could manage, and had almost been caught one evening as they tampered with the engine of a German officer’s car. They had escaped thanks to their knowledge of the little lanes and side streets and had laughed and joked about the whole affair afterwards, even though their friends warned them that they might not be as lucky next time.
And just before Christmas, when they were busy under the bonnet of the same car that they had tried to damage before, James and Laurent were caught and unceremoniously hauled off to prison. They were detained for a couple of days and then their sentence was pronounced – they were to be shipped to France and then taken to one of the labour camps in Eastern Europe. Eva and her friends were shocked; they had known that the two young men would be in serious trouble if caught, but they had not expected to hear that they were being taken away. Rumours of harsh conditions and high mortality rates in the camps had reached Guernsey and they were devastated to think that James and Laurent were to be taken there.
Luc managed to discover exactly when they were to be leaving Guernsey and the girls went to the harbour to see if they could catch a glimpse of them before they were taken away. Marie was leaning on Elaine’s shoulder, weeping, and Aimee and Eva were clinging to each other for support. Only Sylvie was looking unmoved, wrapped up in a thick winter coat, her eyes fixed on the road, waiting to see them appear from the direction of the prison. Finally their patience was rewarded and the military truck came around the corner and stopped on the quayside. James and Laurent and a couple of others destined for the same fate jumped out at gunpoint and were marched down the slope towards the waiting boat. Before they could go down the gangplank, Sylvie suddenly ran after them, calling to them and pulling something out of her coat.
A shot rang out and Sylvie stopped her headlong flight towards her friends, standing still for a moment, a look of shock on her face and then, as if in slow motion, she slumped to the floor. The girls watched in horror as she fell and then Laurent was running away from his guards, crying Sylvie’s name. Orders were screamed in German, and Eva was relieved to hear that the officer in charge was warning the men not to shoot again. She would have run to Sylvie, but Luc was holding her back, not wanting to give anyone else an excuse for shooting, and Eva had to watch as Laurent fell to his knees beside Sylvie, pulling her into his arms and holding her against him, great cries wracking his body. For a moment they let him mourn and then an armed guard, his rifle pointed at Laurent, ordered the young man to his feet, telling him it was time to go.
Laurent laid Sylvie tenderly on the cold cobbles and stood up, his face wet with tears and his jumper covered with Sylvie’s blood. “She was giving me a pen case!” he yelled angrily. “That’s all, a pen case.” And he held up the slim silver box for them all to see.
Luc pushed Eva into Aimee’s arms and walked out of the gathering crowd, his arms held up so they would know he posed no threat to anyone. “I’m a doctor,” he called, walking slowly towards the body.
Ignoring Luc, the soldiers got their prisoners onto the boat and watched as it pulled away from its moorings and started on its journey towards France. The guards lined up, their weapons safely back over their shoulders again, and on a command from the officer in charge of them began to march away. As they reached Luc, who was now bending over the body of Sylvie, the commander stopped.
“We regret that this happened,” he said, his voice clipped. “We will conduct an inquiry.”
Luc looked up at the tall, blond young man, who seemed to be around his own age. “We’ll be insisting on one,” he said gravely.
As the soldiers marched away, the girls pushed their way through the crowd and joined Luc. Eva stared down at Sylvie’s lifeless face, tears in her eyes as she saw the small smile on her friend’s lips. Presumably she had hung on long enough for one last embrace with Laurent and had died content in his arms.
#93:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 7:47 am
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How awful.
#94:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 8:55 am
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Fatima, you have made me cry at work! That is not allowed!
#95:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 9:27 am
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*meeps quietly*
#96:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 9:44 am
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*Wibble*
#97:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 2:09 pm
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*wipes tears from eyes* What a terrible thing to have happened.
#98:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Mon Aug 07, 2006 10:33 pm
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Oh, how sad Crying or Very sad
#99:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 6:00 am
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After that no one felt much like celebrating Christmas. Fleur did her best to cheer Eva, but she seemed to have sunk into a depression. She never made the journey to St. Peter Port any more, leaving Fleur to cycle in, or to have a lift with Paul if he was around to take her. Eva just remained inside, cooking and cleaning and mending as she had always done, but her eyes were dull and she seemed to be disappearing into herself. She ate very little and seldom spoke and Fleur could not remember the last time she had heard her laugh. Paul did his best to provide a few luxuries for Christmas, managing to get some lovely pre-war soap for everyone and even a large goose for their Christmas lunch, although the two things that gave them perhaps the greatest joy were small packets of tea and coffee. Fleur went to church on Christmas Eve, but Eva refused to go with her, and Fleur could see from her expression that she no longer felt willing to talk to a God who could allow such awful things to happen. In a way Fleur could hardly blame her, but at the same time she did wonder if Eva would be comforted by the traditional Christmas service. She was unable to persuade her to go, though, but she did pray hard for some guidance so she could help the troubled girl.
Eva could not understand the feelings of absolute misery that were overwhelming her. She had liked Sylvie a lot and knew it was natural to be saddened by her death, but she had not expected to feel the dreadful mind numbing grief that she was experiencing. She could not shed a tear, however, and she felt as though she was seeing everything from a distance, that there was no once close enough to talk to or to understand her. Luc had done his best, calling on her and trying to persuade her to go to Aimee’s house or to the tea garden or anywhere that was out of her own home, but she just could not make herself go out of the door and see people who would remind her of Sylvie. He even tried bringing Aimee to visit Eva, but although Eva made them tea and offered them biscuits that she had baked, she did not join in their conversation and they felt that they could not reach her. She had disappeared somewhere so far away that they did not know how to bring her back.
Paul was also worried about Eva. She had managed to tolerate his presence in the house until the death of Sylvie; now he was not sure if she actually even remembered he existed. She never spoke to him, seldom looked at him and her misery was breaking his heart. He did his best to bring milk or eggs, and meat when he could, hoping that Fleur could make something to tempt Eva to eat, but he felt as though she was wasting away before his eyes. He thought back to the day when she had told him she hated him, trying to be cold and aloof, but unable to completely hide the passion burning inside her. Now she really was aloof and it was far more painful to see. He did wonder about trying to break her dreadful calm by taking her in his arms and holding her tightly until she fought to push him away, but he was too scared to try in case it made her worse.
The New Year came and went almost unnoticed; no one expected it to be any better than the last one and they found little to be glad about. Food was short, there was little fuel for heat and cooking, the weather was miserably wet and cold and the war continued despite everyone’s hope that it would soon end. Eva scarcely noticed the passing of the year, in fact she scarcely noticed anything. She moved silently around the house, doing whatever was asked of her and whatever she routinely did, her face white and her skin always cold to the touch. As January became February Fleur and Jean discussed calling for Luc in his professional capacity and telling him that he absolutely had to do something to help Eva because they were worried that if her awful quiet was not broken soon they would lose her forever.
But by the time March came around, with its gales and storms, nothing seemed to have helped Eva in the slightest.
#100:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 6:57 am
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Poor Eva - she does sound very seriously deprerssed. I hope somone can help her soon.

Thanks, Fatima.
#101:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 7:49 am
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Poor Eva. It's so hard to accept that bad things happen to good people.
#102:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 10:10 am
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Poor Eva. Perhaps the death of Sylvia is bringing to the surface her grief for the others she has lost.
#103:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 11:29 am
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Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad

I hope something/one gets through to Eva soon.
#104:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 11:40 am
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I feel so sorry for Eva. I hope something/someone can help her soon.
#105:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Tue Aug 08, 2006 1:47 pm
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In mid-March they sat down to a steaming casserole that Eva had made from the tiny piece of beef Paul had brought home, and listened to the wind howling outside. Paul sat in his usual seat, making desultory conversation with Jean and Fleur, but watching Eva as she played with her food. He had been told that he was expected to visit the nearby island of Jersey for a week, to meet with the officers on that island, but he was worried about leaving Eva for so long. He knew that she seemed unaware of his existence most of the time, but he still loved her every bit as much as he had done when she was well and could not bear the thought of leaving her while she was so ill. He knew it was only for a week, but in that time it would be very difficult for Fleur to go into St. Peter Port to collect their food and they would be without the extras that he managed to obtain for them. Eva ate little enough as it was, and he hated to think how she would fare without the eggs and meat he brought for her.
“How long will you be gone?” asked Jean, sounding worried to think that Paul would be away.
Paul was touched by the concern in Jean’s voice. He had grown very fond of the older man, respecting his intellect and enjoying the numerous discussions and debates they had had. “A week,” Paul told him, glancing over at Eva again. To his surprise she actually seemed to be following the conversation, and as he caught her eye he smiled at her. “I’ll miss you,” he told her, but she had already looked back to her plate and the moment had gone. Paul turned to Fleur. “If there’s anything you want me to do before I go, please tell me,” he urged her. “I’ll take you into St. Peter Port tomorrow so you can get the rations, and I’ll make sure there’s plenty of firewood.”
“Does this mean that the war is going to end soon?” Jean wondered. “Could it be that your people are planning to leave the islands?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Paul answered honestly. “I think it’s just to discuss the food and fuel shortages.”
Eva put down her knife and fork and stood up, taking her almost full plate to the sink and scraping the virtually untouched casserole back into the pot. She began on the washing up, vigorously scrubbing the plate and putting it to dry. She made a pot of tea and took it into the sitting room and when Paul joined her a few minutes later he found her sitting in a deep armchair, staring into the roaring fire. He pulled up a little stool and perched awkwardly on it, taking one of her cold hands in his.
“Eva,” he said gently, “Will you be all right while I’m away?”
Slowly she let her gaze meet his and she nodded briefly.
“Will you try to eat something while I’m gone?” he asked and again she gave a little nod. He gently patted her hand and replaced it in her lap. With a sigh Paul got up and sat in another armchair, aware of the usual feeling of helplessness when he thought of Eva. He was saddened to think that the vivacious girl he had fallen in love with had become so sad and silent and his heart ached for her.
Once he had helped Fleur prepare for his absence, Paul packed a small bag and bade the family farewell. He had offered to leave his car for them to use, but neither Fleur nor Eva could drive, so it would not be much use to them. He slipped Fleur a handful of money before he left, urging her to phone his young aide for anything they needed and was touched when Fleur gave him a brief hug in return. In the months that he had been with them they had discovered that not all Germans were bad and that this particular one was the sort of man they would have been proud to have as a son. Paul sought out Eva before he left, running her to earth in her room, where she was polishing the furniture. The door was ajar, so he peeped in, thinking how pretty and feminine her bedroom was with its cretonne curtains and flowery bedspread.
“I’m going now,” he told her. “Look after yourself, Eva.”
She turned and to his surprise, said, “Goodbye,” her voice almost rusty from lack of use.
“Goodbye,” he replied, and he slipped quietly out, unsure whether he ought to laugh or cry. Maybe there was some hope for her, after all, and he longed to get his trip to Jersey over and done with so that he could return to her and see if he could coax her out of her depression and back to life again.
#106:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 5:43 am
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While Paul was away Fleur and Jean found that they missed their guest enormously. He had been unwelcome and unwanted when he arrived, but he had won them over with his unfailing politeness and quiet helpfulness. He had fitted into their family perfectly, making them like him despite themselves, and it seemed quiet and dull in the house without him. The week dragged by and on the day that Paul was due to return, Fleur persuaded Eva to make a special dinner for his homecoming. They had got a chicken from their neighbours, which they roasted with onions and potatoes, and some milk to make rice pudding with, something they had not had for many months, and they decided that they would use the last of their Christmas coffee after the meal. The house was clean and tidy and filled with the delicious aroma of the meal and the curtains were closed against the raging storm, so everything looked cosy in the firelight.
When the telephone rang, Fleur was up to her elbows in flour, busy making bread to put in the oven while it was on, so she called to Eva to answer it. Phone calls to the house were rare now that Eva had abandoned her friends, but Fleur knew that Eva would manage a few words to whoever was on the line. Eva picked up the receiver and heard a German voice on the other end.
“I’m calling from the office of Major von Wittenberg,” he said. “The Major will not be back tonight. There’s been an accident and his boat has gone down. All hands are missing believed drowned.”
“Thank you,” Eva said replacing the receiver. By the time Fleur came in to see who had called, Eva was standing by the window, and for the first time since Sylvie had been killed, Fleur saw that she was crying.
“Who was on the phone?” she asked gently.
“Paul’s gone,” said Eva, turning a tragic face to Fleur.
“What do you mean?” asked Fleur, feeling rather apprehensive.
“His ship sank.” Eva threw her arms around Fleur, sobbing now, and Fleur found her own eyes filling with tears. She held Eva for a long time, unwilling to let her go, for it was the first time that Eva had come to her for comfort since before Christmas and Fleur found herself clinging to the hope that this news, tragic though it was, would help bring Eva out of herself and back to them again. At last Eva raised her head from Fleur’s shoulder.
“Will I lose everyone I love?” she cried brokenly. “I can’t bear it any more, Maman. I wish I was dead.”
“Eva!” said Fleur, shocked by her words. “You mustn’t think like that.”
“I never even told him I love him,” she went on, her voice husky. “I never hated him at all, but now he’s died thinking I did.”
“Come and sit down,” said Fleur, leading Eva over to the settee and sitting down with her.
“I’m sorry I shut you out,” said Eva, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t go on any longer on my own.”
“Of course you can’t, darling,” said Fleur warmly. “I know it’s been difficult for you, but if there’s anything I can do to help, you know I will.”
Eva laid her head on Fleur’s shoulder, wondering why she had not poured her heart out to ‘Maman’ before. “I can’t stop seeing Sylvie,” she said mournfully. “They had no reason to shoot her. She was only saying goodbye to Laurent. She was so good and sweet and would never have hurt any of them, she just wanted to say goodbye.”
Fleur patted Eva’s shoulder, rocking her to and fro as if she was a child. She did not interrupt, she just let Eva tell her about the nightmares she had had and her terror of having to go back to the scene of Sylvie’s murder and the paralyzing fear that if she let herself care for anyone else she would lose them as well. On top of her parents, Emile and Sylvie, Eva knew that she could not bear to lose another loved one and yet now she had lost Paul, too.
Jean, coming in from the greenhouse and overhearing some of Eva’s tearful comments, tactfully withdrew to the kitchen and rescued the dinner from being burnt. He served it onto four plates, and then noisily returned to the sitting room to call the women to the kitchen. He was shocked when Eva explained that Paul would not be coming back but, practical as ever, he said that they really ought to go and eat, and when he reminded them that Paul would certainly expect them to take care of themselves even in their sorrow, they did their best to follow his example. Eva choked down some of the lovely dinner and found that she could actually taste what she was eating for the first time in months. As she ate she found that she could not stop the tears from coursing down her cheeks; she kept on thinking of Paul and how ironic it was that his death should be what gave her back her life. Once she had eaten as much as she could, Fleur sent Eva upstairs and told her to go to bed. It was clear that she was exhausted by the emotion of the afternoon after her impassive detachment of the past months and perhaps she would feel more able to deal with everything in the morning. She made a glass of warm milky tea and slipped in a small dose to make sure that Eva got a good night’s sleep and then went up to see what she was doing.
Eva, her hair brushed and her face washed, was lying in bed, her eyes dry but filled with infinite sadness. Fleur handed her the tea and sat on the side of the bed to watch her drink it. Once the cup was empty, she took Eva’s hands in hers and they talked quietly until Eva’s eyes began to look heavy. As Fleur stood up to go, Eva clutched more tightly at her hands.
“Please don’t leave me yet,” she begged. “Stay until I’m asleep, please, Maman.”
Fleur sat down again and gently smoothed Eva’s hair. “Of course I’ll stay,” she said softly.
#107:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 7:52 am
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I seem to've missed an update yesterday - must have actually been doing some work Rolling Eyes .

Becky, please come back and tell us that Paul wasn't on the ship!!
#108:  Author: Eilidh, Location: North Lanarkshire PostPosted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 8:34 am
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You haven't killed him! No! He is going to be alright!

Can we have another update today, please?
#109:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 9:02 am
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Noooooooo... *remembers Jack Maynard* Please make it be okay?
#110:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 11:20 am
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Oh, no! Please let everything be alright, Becky!
#111:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Wed Aug 09, 2006 11:06 pm
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Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad

Please let him be ok, Becky
#112:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Thu Aug 10, 2006 5:49 am
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You didn't really think I'd kill him, did you? Wink

By the next morning Eva was running a temperature and could hardly make herself get out of bed. She managed to make it down to the living room, where she flopped exhaustedly onto the settee and that was where Fleur found her as she tiptoed around, thinking Eva was still asleep in bed. Seeing that Eva wasn’t feeling well, Fleur fetched a blanket to cover her and some water for her to drink and Eva spent the day lying on the settee, staring into the fire or sleeping fitfully. Fleur sat with her as much as possible, for Eva seemed to be comforted by Fleur’s presence and slept better with Fleur gently mopping her brow. During the evening Eva felt a little better and Fleur was able to persuade her to have some soup, but by the time she had finished it she felt so tired that Fleur packed her off to bed again.
After a second good night’s sleep, Eva found herself feeling much better, although still rather wobbly, so she quickly gave in to Fleur’s demand that she spend the day on the settee in the living room again. She curled up in front of the fire under a fluffy blanket, for she was more shivery now than ragingly hot, and finally allowed herself to think quietly about all that she had lost. Despite feeling physically weak, Eva vowed that her days of self-pity were over. She was going to get on with her life and remember all that she had lost, but not allow herself to be morbid about it. Sylvie would not want her to be afraid of visiting their friends. Emile would not want her to cut herself off from his parents. Paul would not want her to spend her life mourning. It would not be easy, but Eva knew that she had to start to pull herself together again and get on with her life.
Fleur popped in to tell her that she and Jean were going to visit their neighbours, for the tap in their kitchen was leaking and Jean was a dab hand at fixing such things. Eva assured her that she would be fine, for she finally felt warm and the crackling of the fire was very soothing and she wondered if she might fall asleep for a while. She lay quietly, deciding to forget about her current worries and heartaches and think back to happier times. She allowed her thoughts to wander to the beautiful Austrian Tyrol, remembering walks in the flower filled meadows and around the beautiful blue lake. She had been so happy there and so carefree.
Eva fell asleep, dreaming of running through those beautiful meadows, her arms full of flowers, and she felt so happy that she was smiling. She knew there was someone with her, someone she loved dearly, but she could not quite see who it was, although he took her hand and murmured her name so softly. Eva felt the dream fade as she opened her eyes and found that there was someone holding her hand, someone very dear to her. Wordlessly she sat up and fell into his arms, burying her face against the rough material of his uniform and clinging to him for a long while. He held her tightly, thanking God once again that he had been rescued from a watery grave and given a second chance to be with Eva, but above all that she was happy to see him again.
Eva finally sat up a little and looked into his face, noticing that he was scratched and scraped and bruised, but smiling as happily as she was. “They said you were dead,” she told him.
“They thought I was,” he answered, his fingertips gently caressing her face. “I thought I was for a while, too. I’m not sure how I survived, but I got washed up on some rocks back on Jersey. I’d been swimming for hours and was worried that I’d never find land.”
Eva saw from his expression how awful it had been, the terror of being lost at sea with no way of knowing if he would ever get his feet back on solid ground, knowing that there was little chance of surviving the sinking of his boat. “I can’t believe you came back,” she said softly.
“I’m sure it was the thought of you that kept me going,” he admitted, half wondering if he was still lying on the rocks, delirious. “Are you all right, Eva?”
Eva nodded. “I am now,” she told him.
Paul gently put her away from him. “I’d like to go and change,” he told her. “I’m so sorry I woke you, but when I saw you I just couldn’t stop myself from taking your hand. You were smiling as you slept, you know.”
“I was having a lovely dream,” she remembered. “Do you want anything to eat? Some tea, perhaps?”
“No, thank you. I can wait until lunch time.” Paul stood up and Eva noticed that his hand was bandaged, too. “It’s just a cut,” he told her reassuringly.
Eva lay back on the settee as he left the room, and she heard his footsteps go up the stairs and across the landing. With his return everything became so much more difficult. She knew that she loved him and wanted to be with him, but he was still a German officer and so the enemy. If she was seen going out with him, her friends would turn against her and she would be hated by the people of her adopted country. If she told him that they could not be together she would make them both miserable and it would be very difficult for the two of them to live under the same roof and yet pretend to be indifferent to one another, especially after the way she had just greeted him. Eva sighed, knowing that she could not do that. She had been so miserable, believing he was gone forever and she had suddenly been granted a second chance of happiness with him; there was no way she was going to turn away from him again. He might be German, but she was Austrian, and in peacetime they could easily have met and fallen in love and no one would have thought anything about it at all. One thing Eva was sure of, though, was that she was not going to wait until peacetime before beginning any sort of relationship with Paul.
#113:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Thu Aug 10, 2006 7:43 am
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I was fairly sure he'd be OK, but glad to have it confirmed!
#114:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Thu Aug 10, 2006 8:41 am
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*breathes a sigh of relief*
#115:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Thu Aug 10, 2006 11:48 am
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*phew!* thanks, Becky!
#116:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Aug 10, 2006 11:53 am
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*so very very relieved*

Thanks, Becky Very Happy
#117:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Thu Aug 10, 2006 2:50 pm
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Well, I missed that cliff, with having been absent for a couple of days. Very Happy Now how are they going to sort things out together?

Thanks, Fatima.
#118:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Aug 11, 2006 3:55 am
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Paul came back a few minutes later, to find Eva sitting on the settee, her eyes fixed on the door obviously watching for his return. He sat beside her, reaching for her hand, wondering what had been going on while he had been away. Before he could ask her, she had turned towards him and was looking earnestly at him, her face serious. “Paul, I’m sorry,” she told him. “I want you to know that I love you and I can’t believe that I almost threw it all away. No,” she went on, placing a gentle finger across his lips to stop him from interrupting, “Please let me finish. There’s something else I have to tell you. I’m not from here, I’m Austrian. I hate what the Germans have done to my country and I hate what they’ve done to the rest of Europe, but I think you do, too. I know that people are going to be disgusted with me for wanting to be with you, but I don’t care. If you still want to be with me, that is.”
Paul gently took her finger from his lips. “I want to be with you more than anything,” he assured her, hardly able to take in all she had told him. “I’ve been so worried about you, liebchen. You’ve been so silent and so sad. What happened while I was away?”
“I couldn’t deal with losing someone else on my own,” she explained. “I thought if I didn’t let myself get close to anyone I wouldn’t get hurt again, but it was just too difficult to keep going alone.”
As tears came into her eyes, Paul wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “You’ll never have to go on alone,” he promised her. “You’ll always have me to lean on if things are difficult. I love you, Eva. I know it will be difficult for you to be with me, so if you’d rather we stayed at home or only went to places where no one will see us, I don’t mind. We don’t have to declare this to the world just yet, you know.”
“Thank you,” she said, burying her face against his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist, wishing that she could stay in his embrace forever. Despite her reservations, it felt so right being with him; he was no Nazi brute, he was just a man born in the wrong place at the wrong time and caught up in something beyond his control.
Sensing her need for reassurance, he drew her closer, pulling her onto his lap and gently patting her back as if she were a mere child. She felt so thin and light and he resolved to make the black marketeer in the town his first port of call when he was next in St. Peter Port. He would do his best to get her some good wholesome food to build her up again and make her strong. He held her in his arms for a long time until he wondered if she might have gone back to sleep again. “Eva?” he said softly, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. Reluctantly she raised her head and looked questioningly at him. He smiled tenderly at her and decided that his horrific experiences of the previous day had been worth it if it brought Eva back to him. “Where are Jean and Fleur?”
“They should be back any moment,” Eva realized. “They went to fix the tap next door.”
“Have you been ill?” he asked her, although she did actually look better than before he had gone to Jersey.
“I just had a bit of a temperature,” she told him. “Nothing to worry about.” She put her hand to his cheek and smiled up at him. “You are real, aren’t you? I’m not delirious?”
“Yes, I’m quite real,” he told her with a laugh. “Perhaps this will convince you.” He put a hand behind her head and pulled her closer still so that he could kiss her.
Eva smiled mischievously at him. “No,” she said, “I’m not convinced yet.”
Paul laughed, but gladly kissed her again, their delight in being together almost palpable. They kissed endlessly until a shriek from the doorway brought them back to reality. They turned and found Fleur standing there, wide eyed and Eva could not stop herself from giggling. She scrambled off of Paul’s lap and threw herself at Fleur, hugging her tightly and laughing and crying at the same time. Paul stood and watched them, so overjoyed to be part of their family once again that he could not take the smile from his lips. Attracted by the commotion, Jean appeared and shook Paul’s hand warmly, pulling him down so that he could embrace him.
“Welcome home, son,” he said, slapping Paul’s back vigorously. “We’re so glad to see you again!”
Once they had recovered from the shock of seeing their guest alive and well, Fleur sent Eva to lie down again, fearing that too much excitement might overtire her and went off to prepare some lunch for them. As they ate, Paul told them of his adventures, and although he glossed over his feelings of panic, Eva knew that he had been terrified and she slid her hand into his and squeezed his fingers gently. Seeing how things were between Eva and Paul, Jean decided that the time had come to inject a little sanity into the gathering.
“You know we’re really glad you are all right,” he told Paul gravely. “You’re a good man and you’ve gone a fair way to changing my mind about Germans, but I can’t let you be with Eva. You have to leave her alone, Paul.”
“Papa!” Eva protested, holding more tightly to Paul’s hand.
“I heard what happened to that foolish chit in St. Martin’s,” said Jean, frowning at Eva. “She took up with some compatriot of Paul’s and she got badly beaten last week. She’s in the hospital now. I don’t want that for you, love.”
“We’re going to be very careful,” Eva told him. “No one will know.”
“You are deluding yourself if you think that,” said Jean. “Unless you plan on remaining in the house all the time.”
Eva looked up at Paul. She had never gone against the advice of Jean and Fleur before and she was not sure how to tell them that she would not give Paul up a second time. He gave her a reassuring smile and turned to Jean. “We know it’s not going to be easy,” he said seriously. “I don’t want there to be the slightest chance of anything happening to Eva because of her association with me and we’ve already agreed that we’re going to keep this quiet. We won’t be dining in St. Peter Port or going to parties together. But I love her, Sir, and I can’t pretend I don’t.”
“And when the war ends?” asked Jean, determined to make them see sense.
“I imagine I’ll have to return to Germany with the army,” said Paul, “But as soon as I’m demobilized, I shall come back.” He turned back to Eva, wishing that he had been allowed to declare his feelings in private, but knowing that he had to make Jean and Fleur understand that he was completely serious about their daughter-in-law. “I love you, Eva,” he told her earnestly. “I know I can’t offer you much at the moment, but I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. And one day, when this whole awful war is over, I’ll make it all up to you.”
Eva’s cheeks were pink as she answered him. “I love you, too, Paul, and I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. I’ve nearly lost you once and I won’t let that happen again.” She glanced at Jean, who did not look impressed. “I’m sorry, Papa,” she said quietly. “I know you are concerned, but I can’t do what you’re asking.”
Jean laid down his cutlery and wheeled himself out of the kitchen. Fleur watched him, half wishing that Paul and Eva would see sense, but at the same time glad that they had found one another again. It was clear that they really were in love and it would be wonderful to see Eva happy once more. All she could do was hope that no one found out about them and that Eva would escape the wrath that the islanders reserved for those they saw consorting with the enemy.
#119:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Aug 11, 2006 7:42 am
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Glad Jean and Fleur are OK about it, but can't imagine that everyone else will feel the same Rolling Eyes .
#120:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Fri Aug 11, 2006 9:46 am
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I can see Jean and Fleur's point, they are right to be concerned, but it is difficult none the less to ignore your feelings.
#121:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Fri Aug 11, 2006 5:02 pm
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I guess Eva has to follow her heart. She'll only regret it later if she doesn't.
#122:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 5:21 am
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I'm not sure Jean is ok with it, but there's not much he can do about it. Thanks for your comments.

Despite Jean’s disapproval, Paul and Eva spent the rest of the day sitting hand in hand on the settee, talking quietly or gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. By the evening, Eva was feeling exhausted again, so Paul carried her upstairs and tenderly laid her into bed. He fed her some soup and then sat beside her until she had fallen asleep. He then got an early night himself, for his adventure had taken more out of him than he admitted, but he could not fall asleep, his thoughts were too full of happiness to let him do more than lie wakefully in the darkness and recall the feel of Eva in his arms and her mouth on his.
They spent the next few days quietly, recovering their strength and talking about all the things they had wanted to discuss when they had first met. Paul told Eva of his visit to the Tyrol before the war and how he had loved the beautiful city of Innsbruck. He also told her about his parents, his chic French mother who was, as far as he knew, still living near Strasbourg, and his father, who had died just after Paul himself had been wounded and who had left Paul his title of Baron von Wittenberg and the lovely home they had on the edge of the Black Forest.
Once Paul returned to his duties in St. Peter Port, Jean took Eva to one side and tried again to make her see sense about the dangers of having a relationship with a member of the occupying force. He reminded her that there were plenty of people on the island who would be only too happy to make her life miserable when they found out that she was carrying on with a German officer. Eva acknowledged the truth in what he was telling her, but she could not agree to stop seeing Paul. She loved him and wanted nothing more than to be with him and fear of what people would think could not deter her. She could not imagine people attacking her as they had the girl from St. Martin’s; if no one found out about her relationship with Paul, no one would want to hurt her.
The blustery weather of March became much calmer in April and Eva found that she had just about returned to health again. She felt stronger and happier than she had done since the previous summer and she and Paul started going for long country walks together. The weather was too cold for lingering picnics, but it was quite good enough for the cliff top walks of Torteval and Jerbourg Point.
Once he was sure Eva was feeling better, Paul suggested that they drive into St. Peter Port together. Eva had not been back there since Sylvie’s death and Paul knew that it was hard on Fleur having to cycle all that way if he was not around to give her a lift. Eva reluctantly agreed, getting into the front of the car and sitting quietly, her hands twisting nervously together in her lap. Paul drove them there slowly, talking easily as they went, hoping that she would be able to visit the town happily once she had faced up to her fears.
He parked the car and they got out. Paul decided that they should walk down the main street and if Eva was all right with that, they could go onto the harbour and walk along beside the water. She clung to his hand, and he knew that she was recalling that dreadful December day despite her outward air of composure, put on for the benefit of the people in the street. As they turned onto the waterfront, Eva hesitated for a moment. She could see Sylvie so clearly in her mind’s eye and she was still shocked to remember that her friend had been murdered in cold blood right in front of her eyes.
“We can go back if you’d rather,” said Paul, stopping beside her.
“No, you’re right,” she told him. “I have to do this.” Eva set off again, her stride purposeful, almost dragging Paul along with her. They walked together to the end of the jetty and stood side-by-side looking out to the sea. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I’m so glad you made me come back.”
“You know that your friend would not have wanted you to cut yourself off from everyone,” said Paul quietly.
“I know,” Eva admitted. “But sometimes it’s difficult to do what others want you to do.” Paul guessed that she was thinking about Jean, who would definitely not want her to be standing with Paul in full view of everyone in St. Peter Port. “Did you know that they shot Laurent, too?” she asked suddenly. “He dived off the boat and they shot him in the water.”
Paul nodded, for he had heard the details not long afterwards and had quietly informed Jean and Fleur. He had decided not to bring the subject up with Eva for a while, though, and he was surprised to find that she had already heard about it. “The two soldiers involved were sent to the Russian front in disgrace,” he told her. “I know it doesn’t help at all, but the powers that be decided it was a suitable punishment for them.”
“I’m glad they aren’t here any longer,” she told him, turning and starting to walk slowly back towards the town once again. “Shall we go to the tea shop?” she suggested, slipping a hand through his arm as he caught up with her.
“Do you think that’s wise?” he asked her.
“I think I deserve it,” she told him with a smile. “I’d really like some coffee, Paul, or failing that, some tea.”
Privately agreeing that she did deserve it, Paul allowed her to lead him to the Lihou Tea Garden and soon they were sitting quietly at a table in the corner of the café. Janine Dumont served them their tea, but she hardly said a word to Eva, and Aimee, who was also working in the teashop, did not even come over to the table to talk to her. Eva knew that it was her own fault, for she had spurned her friends for so long that she should not be surprised if they were reluctant to make any attempt to speak to her. She decided that she would come back to St. Peter Port on her own and would call on Aimee and try to patch up their friendship. Surely Aimee would understand, for she had also witnessed Sylvie’s death, and then they could enjoy one another’s company once more. Paul, though, wondered if they were leaving her alone because they disapproved of her sitting with him. He knew they had made a big mistake going into the café together and he could only hope that people might not realize who he was and thereby spare Eva the pain of being scorned by people who had once been her friends.
“Thank you for making me come out today,” said Eva, abandoning her wistful contemplation of Aimee. “You can’t begin to imagine how much better I feel now.”
“I’m glad,” he told her with a smile. “Now all we have to do is get you back on that bike and you won’t know yourself.”
“I’m going to come into town tomorrow and see Aimee,” she told him decisively, and he was glad to hear her sounding just like her old self again. She finished her coffee, which was surprisingly good for ersatz coffee, and surveyed Paul across the table. “I am so pleased you almost drowned,” she told him with a grin.
Paul grinned back at her, not at all put off by her rather surprising comment. “If it’s given you back your vitality, so am I,” he agreed. “Come on, let’s go. I have to report for duty this afternoon.”
They put a generous handful of coins on the table and left the teashop, and Paul was glad that Eva did not seem to notice the rather hard stare that Aimee gave her. He wondered if he ought to warn Eva that Aimee might not be glad to see her, but then decided that he ought to give Eva’s friend the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she was aiming the look at him not at Eva; maybe she would still welcome Eva with open arms, as a true friend would. They strolled back to the car and Eva chattered gaily about the glories of the small town and how glad she was to have rediscovered them, leaving Paul to try to hide his worries about the consequences of their relationship on her while appreciating how wonderful it was to hear her sounding so happy once more.
#123:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 7:47 am
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I think Paul might be right to worry - most people are bound to disapprove if they find out. Thanks Becky Very Happy .
#124:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 11:25 am
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I hope pleople aren't going to make things too difficult/nasty for Eva - she's had a bad enough time already!

Thanks, Becky
#125:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 2:17 pm
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Looks like there are more tough times ahead for Eva. Thanks, Becky.
#126:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 2:26 pm
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I know Eva needed to face up to the demons of St. Peter Port, but I think her life would be a whole lot easier if she hadn't been seen with Paul.

Thanks, Fatima.
#127:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Sat Aug 12, 2006 3:35 pm
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I'd be suprised if Eva was welcomed with open arms by Aimee after that. As far as Aimee is concerned, there is no difference between Paul and the soldier who shot Sylvie.
#128:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 5:04 am
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Eva got up the next morning full of determination to visit Aimee and rekindle their friendship. She had breakfast with Fleur and Jean, who were delighted to hear that she planned to go to St. Peter Port on her own, and Fleur willingly provided Eva with a short shopping list as well. Paul appeared as Eva was getting ready to set off, and he reminded Eva that she might be tired undertaking such a long bike ride for the first time in so long, and gave her his telephone number in the Wehrmacht headquarters so that she could call him if she was too weary to cycle home. Eva promised to do just that and reached up to kiss him.
“See you later,” she said as he gave her a quick hug.
“Be careful,” he reminded her, watching as she almost skipped out of the back door.
Eva took her bike from the shed and set off, glad it was a lovely day, sunny but with enough breeze to stop her from feeling too hot on her journey. She felt positively lighthearted as she headed into town, wondering how she had ever allowed herself to get so low that she did not take any pleasure from the beautiful views of the little island. She chastised herself once more for being so willing to wallow in self-pity and vowed that it would not happen again. As she cycled along the stretch of road where she had first met Paul she smiled to herself, recalling the surprised look he had worn as she had cannoned into him, depositing them in an ungainly heap beside the road. The sea looked beautiful, a brilliant sparkling blue with little white crests, and Eva said a prayer for Laurent as she went along, wondering what had happened to James and if he was still alive.
When she reached St. Peter Port, Eva cycled to Aimee’s house, going in the back gate as she had always done and leaving her bicycle propped up against the side of the house. She knocked on the door and soon Aimee had appeared, looking rather surprised to see Eva. To Eva’s astonishment, she did not greet her with any kind of enthusiasm, hardly even managing a smile for her. “Hello, Aimee,” said Eva, her own smile fading under the glare Aimee was giving her. “I’m sorry I haven’t called on you for so long. How are you?”
Aimee did not move aside nor did she invite Eva in. “I’m well,” she said, sounding awkward.
“I am so pleased to see you again,” Eva went on, trying to rediscover some of the morning’s enthusiasm.
“I’m not supposed to be talking to you,” said Aimee. “Mum’s furious with you for having a Nazi boyfriend.”
“Paul’s not a Nazi,” said Eva at once, springing to his defense. “He’s really nice, Aimee.”
“He’s German,” retorted Aimee. “We don’t want anyone to think that we’re collaborators and Mum’s said you aren’t welcome here any more.”
“Aimee!” Eva exclaimed, shocked. “You don’t mean that, do you?”
“Yes,” said Aimee firmly. “I do. I’m really sorry, Eva,” she added as Eva stared at her in astonishment. “I wish it was different, but you obviously really like him if you’re prepared to be seen in public with him, and I don’t think it’s right. He’s our enemy, his people murdered Sylvie and Laurent and took James away. We have to choose sides and you’ve chosen the wrong side.” Before Eva could answer, Aimee had closed the door in her face and she knew that she could do nothing other than leave.
Eva took her bike and headed along the street to the shops, all her joy in the day gone. She could hardly believe what Aimee had said, and how hurtful it had been to discover that both Aimee and her mother considered her to be a collaborator. Eva certainly did not agree with that; she was in love with a German, but she was not doing anything that was of any help to the Nazis. Eva reached the butcher’s shop, where there were a few miniscule pieces of meat on display, so she went into the shop and waited in the queue to be served. As she caught the eye of an elderly woman that she knew by sight she smiled at her, but the woman just turned away as if she had not seen Eva even though she had definitely made eye contact with her. Eva lowered her gaze and bought the meat she wanted and then headed along to the grocers, where she managed to get some cabbage and a few turnips. As she handed over her money, though, she clearly heard a voice behind her saying something about ‘Jerry-bags’. Once she had taken her change, Eva turned and saw David, Aimee’s boyfriend, standing in the queue with another young man and she knew from their faces that the insult had come from them. With her head held high she left the shop and went on down the road to the bakers, where she was lucky enough to get two little loaves of bread. They were rather hard, but she was thrilled nonetheless, for they were sure to taste better than the potato bread that was all they had been eating lately.
Her shopping done, Eva got on her bike and cycled back down the street. When she neared the greengrocers, she saw David and his friend outside and as she drew level with the shop they yelled “Jerry-bag” and chucked two very rotten tomatoes at her, one of which hit her shoulder and the other the side of her head. Shocked, Eva pedalled on, glad when she rounded the corner and was out of sight. She did not dare stop, for the whole town seemed to know of her liaison with Paul and she did not want to have to listen to any more insults, so she sped off along the road that led home. Once she had gone a couple of miles, she pulled over in the gateway to a field and propped her bicycle against the gate before climbing over and sitting down in the long grass just on the other side. She took out her hanky and tried to get some of the tomato out of her hair and off of her jacket, but she knew that her hair would need to be washed when she got home again.
With a sob, Eva buried her face in her hands, realizing that she would not be able to show her face in the town again. She had chosen to be with Paul even though Jean had tried to warn her what it would be like, and so she had to live with her choice. And thinking of Paul, Eva knew that she could not regret her decision. He was everything she had always wanted in a man, kind, considerate, dependable and strong, but gentle at the same time. She really hoped that they would have a future together after the war, assuming that they both survived it, of course, but it was distressing to think that she was likely to be subjected to such treatment as she had received that morning for the duration of the war.
Hearing a car approaching, Eva pulled herself closer to the hedge. She certainly did not want to attract any more attention and she wished she had lugged her bike over the gate so that no one would notice it. If someone saw it there and stole the food she had packed so carefully in her basket she knew she would be devastated. Either she would have to return to the shops to try to get something else, or she would have to go home empty handed, which would be worse, for she would have to admit to Jean and Fleur that they had been right to advise her not to let anyone know that she was anything more than someone who had to live under the same roof as Paul.
Eva sniffed as the car got closer, and then, to her horror, she heard it stop just on the other side of the hedge. She heard the engine turned off, a door open and close and as she wondered if she could wriggle into the hedge, she heard her name being called.
“Eva?” Paul shouted, obviously thinking she had gone a lot further than she had done.
Hastily wiping her face on the hem of her dress, Eva straightened and found him just a couple of feet from her. He was wearing his uniform and was obviously on his way to headquarters. His glance took in her tearstained face and dirty hands and the tomato stains on her jacket and he looked at her quizzically.
“Dare I ask what you are doing?” he wondered.
In spite of herself, Eva found herself smiling at him. “I’ve had the most awful morning imaginable,” she admitted, knowing that she could not keep this from him. “Aimee says I’m a collaborator and won’t see me, and I’ve had people insulting me, too.”
“So you thought you’d seek refuge in a field?” he suggested mildly.
“I was upset,” she told him. “Paul, I don’t want to tell Jean and Fleur, it would only upset them, too.”
Paul held out his arms and helped her to scramble over the gate again, then he tenderly brushed the grass seed from her hair. “Shall I move out?” he asked. “I’m sure they can find me somewhere else to live. I’ll leave you well alone and then they’ll know they were mistaken about you.”
“No!” she told him, horrified by his suggestion. “Please don’t Paul. I couldn’t bear it if you were gone.”
“I hate to see you treated like this,” he countered. “Eva, I have to go or I’ll be late. Please go home now and I’ll see you tonight.”
Eva reached up to kiss him and then she got back onto her bicycle and waved as she cycled away. Seeing him had raised her spirits again, and she managed to get home and sneak into the kitchen with her purchases without being noticed by either Jean or Fleur. Once she had washed her hair and changed her clothes, Eva found she was feeling a lot better, and she was able to tell Fleur that she had not seen Aimee and just about make her lie sound convincing.
#129:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 9:51 am
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Unfortunately that was bound to happen Sad .
#130:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 12:28 pm
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Oh, dear! Sad
#131:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 2:46 pm
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I've just read all the way through this. I've very much enjoyed it. I hope everything works out for Eva and Paul.
#132:  Author: Ally, Location: John Bettany's Cabin! PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 7:56 pm
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I hope everything does work out but it must be hard for them all. Not only Eva but her friends too. Thanks Becky.
#133:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 8:24 pm
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Oh dear.

It's one of those situations, where you feel sorry for and understand where everyone is coming from, but there's no apparent resolution Sad

Thanks, Becky
#134:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sun Aug 13, 2006 10:13 pm
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Sad but understandable. Sad

Hope we're further along in the war than I think. Confused
#135:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Mon Aug 14, 2006 4:10 am
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It's currently the summer of 1944. Thank you for all your comments.

Knowing that Eva was not eager to repeat her journey to St. Peter Port, Paul did his best to make himself available to take Fleur into the town to get their rations. He also took Eva sometimes, for he guessed that no one would dare say anything to her while she was with him, but on the whole Eva had started to buy their groceries from the tiny village of Torteval, preferring to shop there in relative anonymity than risk trouble in St. Peter Port. Despite the upset of people thinking such dreadful things about her, Eva was incredibly happy. She adored Paul, and he was devoted to her, and they had plenty of time to spend together. They often went out for long walks, enjoying the sunshine after a cold and blustery winter, and found it very pleasant to be completely alone together. At home there was little time to be on their own, for Jean and Fleur were almost always there and Eva always had plenty of chores to do. Away from the house they could talk about anything under the sun and hold hands to their hearts’ content.
In June came the news of Allied landings in Normandy, and the islanders hoped that it would mean the occupation was nearing its end. The Germans did not leave, though, and the Allies did not come to the heavily fortified Channel Islands. They moved slowly through France, but this made no difference to the lives of the people of Guernsey. Paul told Eva that there were no plans for the German forces to withdraw from the Channel Islands, for which she was grateful, knowing that once he left she would have no idea when they would meet again, but they both knew that the end was surely in sight and that the time of separation was drawing relentlessly closer.
As the weather improved, Paul and Eva made every effort to enjoy themselves. For all they knew it would be the only summer they would share and they wanted to spend every possible moment together, taking pleasure in one another’s company and trying to forget that the idyll in which they were living would not last forever. One day in August, Paul managed to get a special pass that would allow them to spend the day on the tiny island of Lihou, after which Janine’s teashop was named. They were lucky to find that the weather was beautiful on the day they were to visit the island. Early in the morning, Paul drove them over to the coast and they crossed the causeway to Lihou at low tide. He had brought a picnic basket and they both had their swimming things, books to read and sundry other necessaries for a day out. As the island was out of bounds they knew that they could be sure of having the place to themselves and were looking forward to spending a lovely day together.
They walked around to a little beach and decided to make that their base, so they settled their bags in the shade of the big umbrella Paul had brought with him and then decided to take a walk right around the island. It did not take them long to make the circuit and by the time they returned to their little beach they had fallen in love with the island.
“It’s so perfect, being alone,” said Eva contentedly, spreading out the towels and kicking off her sandals. “I think we ought to come and live here, away from everyone.”
Paul removed his own shoes and pulled off his shirt, too, before lying out on one of the towels. “We’d get fed up with it,” he predicted. “How about a cup of coffee, Eva?”
Eva obligingly found the thermos and poured two cups of precious coffee, even managing to find a couple of biscuits to go with it. “I wouldn’t get fed up being alone with you,” she told him, sitting down on the towel next to him. “I’ve brought some suntan lotion. Do you want some?”
As it looked like being a very hot day, Paul agreed that it was a good idea. He settled his cup in the sand and rubbed the lotion on, then handed the bottle back to Eva with a grin. “Will you do my back?” he asked hopefully.
Eva rubbed his back, trying not to notice how smooth and firm his skin was, but when she realized that she had rubbed all of the lotion in and was just enjoying the feel of his well muscled back beneath her hands, she stopped hastily, her cheeks pink. She covered her embarrassment by hunting out her book and she settled down on the sand to read. Paul had managed to find amongst his possessions some German books that she had not read and she was very much enjoying the pleasure of reading in her mother tongue once again, for although she read well in both English and French, there was nothing quite as delightful as reading in German. Paul lay out beside her, at first making odd remarks, but soon had fallen asleep, soothed by the gentle noise of the waves on the shore.
Eva abandoned her book and changed into her bathing suit while Paul was in no position to observe her inelegant struggles beneath her towel, then she lay down again and looked at him as he slept. She was shocked to see the angry red scar on his chest and guessed that was where he had been shot; he was obviously very lucky to have recovered so well from his wound. With a sigh she got up, pulled on an old sunhat and strolled down to the water’s edge, dipping her feet into the chilly water. The sun was hot on her shoulders and the sky was beautifully blue, while the sea shimmered and sparkled as if it was bedecked in diamonds.
Eva paddled to the end of the little beach and sat down on a flat rock, looking out to sea and dreaming of the days when the war would be over. She imagined what it would be like to be with Paul in a place where their relationship was not disapproved of or frowned on, somewhere they could perhaps get married and have a family together. Eva remembered the weeks after Emile’s death when she had been hoping desperately to find that she was pregnant. She really believed that she would be able to adjust to losing Emile if she had the arrival of a baby to look forward to, but it was not to be. Once she had got over the disappointment, Eva had done her best to put thoughts of motherhood out of her mind, but now, with Paul, she knew that she wanted to settle down and have a family.
“You look thoughtful,” said Paul, appearing beside her.
Eva smiled at him. “I was wondering if I’d go for a swim,” she said.
“Good idea,” he agreed. “Come on.” He pulled her to her feet and looked appreciatively at her, for she looked delightfully pretty in her bathing costume, and they took her hat and his sunglasses back to their towels, then they headed into the water.
Soon they were standing with the waves lapping around their knees and Paul was trying to persuade Eva to go a little deeper. “It’s too cold!” she protested, squealing as a wave splashed her stomach.
“Are you sure you can swim?” he asked, amused by her behaviour.
“Yes!” she assured him, recalling hot summer afternoons swimming in the beautiful Tiernsee.
“Good.” Paul seized her and swung her into his arms, carrying her further out and dropping her unceremoniously into the water. He waited for her to come up, but when she did not immediately reappear he was filled with trepidation and he plunged under the water after her, cursing himself for fooling with her before he had seen how good a swimmer she really was. To his horror, he could not find her and when he came up to draw breath he had to remind himself that it would not help if he panicked. He took a deep breath and prepared to dive under the water again, but then he heard the sound of laughter from behind him. Turning, he found Eva sitting on a low rock, evidently finding his attempts to locate her extremely amusing. Grinning with relief, he splashed back through the water to her and perched on the rock beside her. “That was mean,” he protested.
“No meaner than throwing me into the water like that,” she countered.
Paul draped his arm around her shoulders. “True,” he agreed, kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry Eva.”
Eva slid her arm around his waist, suddenly losing interest in swimming. He held her closely and they looked out across the water in a companionable silence for a long time. Finally, as the sun was starting to feel very hot, Paul suggested that they have a swim to cool off. They splashed into the water, which now felt more pleasantly cool than icy, and they spent a happy hour swimming back and forth, racing and then floating on their backs to recover from the exertion. When Paul complained of feeling hungry, they left the water and walked hand in hand up the beach to their towels, flopping down side by side and stretching out in the sun for a while to dry off.
Paul propped himself up on one elbow and looked over at Eva, her damp skin glistening in the sunshine and her fair hair sleek. “I love you,” he said, reaching out to caress her shoulder.
“I love you, too,” she replied, wiping some droplets of water from his face.
He leaned closer to kiss her, tasting salt on her lips, his heart racing as she slid her hands across his back. He kissed her some more, then he pulled back a little and regarded her seriously. “Eva, will you marry me?” he said impulsively. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I love you and I’d really like to make you my wife.”
#136:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Aug 14, 2006 7:43 am
    —
Presumably they'll have to wait until after the war - can't remember the German regulations about marrying local girls but wouldn't have thought it'd be allowed (although presumably if the senior officers knew she was Austrian it'd be OK)!

I hadn't realised we were as far on as D-Day - that's much better!!

Thanks Becky Very Happy .
#137:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Aug 14, 2006 12:40 pm
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How lovely - I hope she says yes

Hat-shopping ahoy! Very Happy
#138:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Mon Aug 14, 2006 3:20 pm
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Oh, lovely. I hope this will have a happy ending!!
#139:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 5:22 am
    —
Eva looked up at him in surprise. Images of them spending the rest of their lives side by side, on the beach, in the park, walking in the countryside or the city, flashed through her mind and she discovered that the idea of doing everything with Paul was very appealing. “Yes,” she breathed. “I’d like that very much.”
Paul kissed her again, his mind already filling with the problems that marriage between them would create for her. “It won’t be easy,” he warned her, not to put her off, but wanting her to be realistic.
“No,” she agreed, smiling up at him. “But it will be right. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Paul smiled back at her. “It will definitely be right,” he agreed.
“Let’s not discuss the problems now,” she said persuasively. “It’s such a paradise here that it’s hard to imagine how horrible real life can be. Let’s enjoy today and worry about the difficulties tomorrow.”
“Then let’s have lunch,” said Paul, only too willing to fall in with her suggestion. He kissed her again and then sat up, reaching for the picnic basket. This time, in addition to bread and cheese, he had provided hard-boiled eggs and some salad and they were able to enjoy a very pleasant repast. Once they had finished, they moved the umbrella around a little, so that it provided them with shade, and they curled up together to discuss the relative merits of living in Germany or Austria. They did consider living in the Channel Islands, but the prospect of forever facing censure from those who disapproved of their romance deterred them, although they did vow to visit Jean and Fleur from time to time.
After giving their lunch time to go down, they headed into the sea again, for it was very hot and the sea looked so inviting. They swam for some time, until they noticed that the tide had turned and was definitely going out and they knew that they had to pack up ready to cross the causeway and head home.
“But I want to stay here forever,” Eva protested as she rubbed herself down with her towel. “We can put up a tent and camp here, away from the rest of the world.”
“That’s tempting,” he told her, a twinkle in his eye. He wrung out his wet swimsuit and wrapped it in a towel, then he began to pack up the other things they had scattered about the sand. Finally, he took pity on Eva, who was still struggling to preserve her modesty behind a rather large towel. “I’ll take this over to the causeway,” he told her, “And you can catch me up when you’ve finished dancing with that bath sheet.”
Eva blushed. “It’s jolly difficult to change and hold the towel at the same time,” she protested.
“Would you like me to hold it for you?” he inquired. “If I promise to avert my gaze.”
“All right,” said Eva, offering him the corners of the towel. “Thank you.”
Paul held the towel, his eyes fixed on the sea, although his mind was definitely elsewhere. When she had finally dressed, he took the bags and they walked slowly across the island to the causeway, which was just about visible once again. Preferring not to get wet feet, they sat on a conveniently placed patch of grass and waited for the tide to fall a little more before crossing. With reluctance they walked back to the mainland and over to the car, which they had parked beneath a conveniently placed tree so that it would not overheat. Paul packed the bags into the boot and then swore in German, much to Eva’s surprise.
“Whatever’s the matter?” she asked, as he apologised profusely for his bad language.
“Look what they’ve done to the car,” he said, indicating the tyres, which were all flat.
Eva was forcibly reminded of Laurent and James. “I suppose they know that there aren’t many residents who can run a car now,” she said. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll have to walk,” he told her. “Will you be able to manage?”
“I don’t have a lot of choice,” she reminded him.
Paul linked arms with her and they set off down the road together, leaving almost all their things in the back of the car. “I’ll send someone out to collect the car tomorrow,” he said, annoyed at having his time wasted in such a pointless way. “I hope whoever did it gets a lot of pleasure from watching us walk home, although I can’t imagine why they would.”
“They just like knowing that they have inconvenienced you,” she told him placatingly. “But it’s a lovely afternoon for a walk, Paul.”
“Especially a walk with you,” he said, sounding a little calmer. “I’m sorry, Eva. I find it difficult to understand, that’s all. If it made a difference to the war I could see why they did such things, but to slash my tyres when I’m just out for the day is ridiculous.”
“There’s not much else they can do, though,” she pointed out. “That’s why there’s no organized resistance on the islands. I hope Fleur doesn’t get worried about us,” she went on, trying to change the subject a little. Paul lengthened his stride, not wishing to give Jean and Fleur any further reason to worry about his involvement with Eva, but she remembered all she had learnt about walking from her schooldays. “Not too fast,” she warned him. “I’ll never make it if you want me to run.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” he promised, but he did slow up again. “I won’t leave you in a heap by the wayside.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Eva smiled up at him but saved her breath for walking. After swimming for so long, she felt weary already and knew it would be hard work to get all the way back home.
Despite their weariness, it was a lovely walk. The heat of the day had passed and there were a few clouds in the sky now, while a gentle breeze sprang up and gave them a sudden burst of energy. It was so quiet and peaceful, for they hardly met another person, and the views of the lovely Guernsey countryside were unrivalled. And finally they did arrive home, where they were met by a rather worried looking Fleur. She shared Paul’s anger over the unnecessary sabotage of his car and then packed Eva off upstairs for a hot bath.
Once she was clean and feeling more relaxed, Eva went downstairs and sat in the garden for a while; Paul was in the bath, Jean was listening to a broadcast from the BBC on his illicit radio and Fleur was preparing a salad for their evening meal. She leaned back in the deckchair and watched the sun setting, feeling content despite the rather bad ending to an otherwise perfect day.
“What a lovely view,” Paul observed as he came to find Eva in the garden.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” she agreed dreamily.
Paul pulled the other deckchair over so that he could sit next to her. “Eva,” he said, taking her hand.
“Yes?” she asked, still gazing at the beautiful pinky-orange sky.
“Eva, what do you think of this?” he said, putting something into her hand.
She dragged her eyes away from the sky and looked into her hand. What she saw there immediately pushed all thoughts of the sunset from her mind. “Oh, Paul, it’s lovely,” she breathed. “Simply beautiful.”
“And does it fit?” He took the delicate ring from her hand and slid it onto her finger. “I bought it a while ago,” he explained, holding her hand so that they could both admire it. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”
“Thank you,” she said, leaning over to kiss him.
“Now all I have to do is convince Jean that we are doing the right thing,” he observed, for that was the part that he knew would be the most difficult.
#140:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 7:45 am
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Glad she said yes but it's going to be very difficult.
#141:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 9:10 am
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Oh dear! I'm really pleased for them both, but I think that ring could make life among the islanders even more difficult for Eva.

Thanks, Fatima.
#142:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 11:52 am
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I hope their love is enough to help them through the difficult times that could be coming.

Thanks, Becky Very Happy
#143:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Tue Aug 15, 2006 4:55 pm
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They're going to have to be very strong. Thanks, Becky.
#144:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 4:09 am
    —
Jean congratulated Paul and Eva on their engagement, but he was not at all pleased about it. He waited until he could speak to Paul on his own and explained that he could not understand how Paul could so blithely put Eva in such danger when he professed to love her. The time was rapidly approaching when the Germans would leave the Channel Islands and then Eva would be completely at the mercy of those who strongly objected to collaborators. There were already stories of French women who had taken German lovers being seized by angry mobs and having their heads shaved and being subjected to other humiliations. Following the treatment of one or two Guernsey women that Jean had heard about, he was not eager to see Eva put into such a potentially dangerous position. Although Paul promised Jean that he would never let any harm come to Eva, they both knew that he would have to leave and so would be unable to keep that promise. The chances of his being able to take Eva with him when he left were small; when the British came to the islands the Germans would either have to flee or fight and if they fled Eva would have to stay. If the Germans surrendered, Paul would become a prisoner of war, because Jean would not be able to hide him from the British. No matter how you viewed the situation in the Channel Islands, it seemed inevitable that Paul would go and Eva would be left behind to face the consequences of their love.
And then there was the whole question of whether Paul would return once the war was over. Paul hotly assured Jean that he would definitely come back for Eva, but Jean pointed out that he could not be certain that he would be able to return. Perhaps the authorities would refuse to let him come back, on the grounds that he had been a member of the occupying force, or maybe he would forget Eva once he got back to Germany. In fact, it was entirely possible that Paul already had a wife in Germany, for it seemed unlikely that the son of a nobleman in his mid thirties would be unmarried. Paul immediately assured Jean that he most certainly was not married, and although he was annoyed at having to defend himself against Jean’s accusations, he understood that it was only the older man’s concern for Eva that led him to give Paul such a hard time.
Although neither Jean nor Paul told Eva of their discussion, she had guessed that Jean would not be too pleased with the engagement and would try to talk Paul out of it. Once Jean and Fleur had retired for the night, leaving Paul and Eva sitting together in the lounge, Eva turned to Paul. “I think we need to talk,” she said seriously. “It’s going to be difficult, isn’t it?”
Paul nodded. “It’s going to be very difficult for you, Eva,” he said gravely. “If you want to back out, I’ll understand.”
“Don’t say that, Paul,” she said. “I want to marry you. I’m just worried about what will happen when the war ends.”
Paul slid an arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him. “I will have to leave Guernsey,” he told her. “Either we’ll withdraw and head back to Germany, or we’ll be taken prisoner by the allied forces.”
“And what will happen then?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “If we go back to Germany we’ll have to fight. If we get taken to England we’ll have to sit and wait until they let us go. Whatever we do, I’ll come back for you just as soon as I can.”
Eva gently smoothed his hair. “Do you think it will take you a long time to come back?” she asked.
“It might,” he answered, wanting to be honest with her. “But you’ll be fine here with Jean and Fleur.”
Eva sighed. “Do you think they’ll try to shave off my hair?” she wondered.
“I’ll love you with or without hair,” he promised with a smile. “You’ll just have to stay quietly at home, Eva, to be safe. People will have enough to do trying to feed themselves and find fuel to worry about you.”
Hoping that he was correct, Eva snuggled closer into his arms. “Maybe it would be better if I went to Germany to find you,” she suggested. “Or we could meet in Austria, beneath the Goldene Dachl in Innsbruck. That would be romantic.”
“It’s better if you wait here, Eva,” he told her, not liking the idea of her travelling half way across Europe in the aftermath of the war.
“It isn’t going to happen for a long time yet, though, is it?” she said. “So we don’t need to worry about it at the moment.”
Paul allowed her to distract him, although the thought of what would become of her when he left made him anxious. He knew there was no hope now of Germany winning the war, the only consideration was how long it would be before Berlin realized that and surrendered. And once that happened he knew that Eva would be at the mercy of anyone who disapproved of her choice of partner.
#145:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 7:37 am
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Sadly they're all right to be worried - just hope that things turn out OK for them.
#146:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 8:50 am
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*making quiet meeping noises* I hope it all turns out okay in the end.
#147:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 5:17 pm
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I have everything crossed for them.
#148:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 6:31 am
    —
Despite Jean’s disapproval, Eva continued to spend every possible moment with Paul and was certain that she wanted to marry him. They set out to enjoy the summer, with it’s warm weather and blue skies, and often walked along the cliff top paths together, picnicking in secluded places and both looked tanned and healthy thanks to their outdoor life. They even got into the habit of speaking German together when they thought no one would notice, for although Eva spoke French and English well and Paul was also fluent in French, they found it easiest to converse in their native tongue. And as autumn came and then gave way to a harsh winter, they spent most of their energy in thinking of ways to eek out their pitifully small rations and to keep the house warm enough. The Allied advances across France meant that the supply lines of the German forces had been cut, so there was little in the way of food arriving in the Channel Islands and even black market sources were drying up. People were rapidly approaching the verge of starvation, and although negotiations were underway for the Red Cross to bring in food parcels, it seemed to be taking forever to organize it. From what they heard about the progress of the war, they knew that the British and Americans were advancing inexorably on Germany and when the French captured Strasbourg in November, Paul knew that his mother, should she have survived the conflict, would be delighted to be free at last.
Early in December, fed up with the endless struggle to make ends meet, Eva cornered Paul after Jean and Fleur had retired to bed. They were sitting together in the living room, wearing their thickest jumpers and several layers underneath, and had blankets over their knees. “I want us to get married before the war ends,” she told him, coming straight to the point. “The rate things are going we aren’t going to survive until the end of the war, so what’s the point in waiting?”
Paul looked at her in surprise. “It won’t be a very exciting wedding,” he warned her.
“I don’t need an exciting wedding,” she told him with a smile. “I’ll be getting you. That’s exciting enough for me.”
Paul laughed. “Thank you,” he said, reaching for her hand. “All right, Eva, we’ll get married.”
“Soon?” she suggested hopefully. “Would you be able to get a license?”
“Yes, of course,” he assured her. “I’ll look into it first thing tomorrow. How soon do you call soon?”
“This weekend,” she said.
“So you’ve been thinking about this quite a lot, then,” he realized.
Eva smiled. “Yes,” she admitted. “For a week or two. It’s silly to wait, Paul. I’ve been over all the arguments and they make no sense. Life is too short to spend it waiting.”
“You’re right,” he told her. “What about a dress?”
“Oh, I’ve taken care of that,” she assured him with a smile. “I’ve been busy while you were on duty this week.”
“You crafty thing,” he said, impressed by her determination to have her own way. “I’ll have to see if I can find a suit. I don’t want to wear my uniform.”
“I’ve got one of Papa’s suits ready for you,” she informed him calmly.
Paul laughed and gave her a kiss. “You are a woman in a million,” he told her.
“You do think it’s the right thing to do, don’t you?” she asked, suddenly wondering if she was wrong to pressure him so much.
“Yes, definitely,” he assured her. “I hadn’t really thought of asking you to marry me now, it seemed more sensible to wait, but you’re right. We could be waiting for years.”
“If we haven’t starved to death before that,” she added, as her stomach rumbled embarrassingly.
“I hope it won’t come to that,” he said, grinning. “Come on, it’s time for bed. You are so cold, Eva.”
They stood up and gathered up their blankets and headed upstairs. Eva wished that there was enough gas to make up a hot water bottle, but the gas had long ago been turned off. On the landing Paul took Eva in his arms and kissed her. It was chilly upstairs, for there was no heating now, and she was shivering. He held her for a long moment, feeling glad when he realized that he would not be obliged to say goodnight to her on the landing many more times, for soon she would be his wife.
“Go on, before we freeze to death,” he said, reluctantly releasing her. “See you in the morning.”
“Goodnight,” she replied, heading off to her room. Once inside she changed quickly into her long flannel nightdress, pulling a cardigan over the top of it and then she leapt into bed, huddling beneath her eiderdown with her teeth chattering. She did not feel miserable as she often did when lying cold and wakeful; soon she would marry Paul and even if they did not get very long together, at least she would have the comfort of knowing that she had not wasted too much of their precious time.
#149:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 7:47 am
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Hope it goes OK for them and that the wedding's a happy occasion despite the circumstances.
#150:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 1:36 pm
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I hope they have a lovely wedding day

Thanks, Becky
#151:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 2:23 pm
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Also hoping they have a lovely day...
#152:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Thu Aug 17, 2006 5:31 pm
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I hope their day is a happy one.
#153:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 1:52 am
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*hopeful but apprehensive*

Thank you, Becky.
#154:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 3:27 am
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Fingers crossed it's a happy day.

Thanks Fatima.
#155:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 6:23 am
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I'm not sure what the Germans thought about their troops marrying local girls, but I'm going with Alison's idea that as Eva was Austrian, it would be quite all right.

Paul managed to get a marriage license very easily and he arranged for the ceremony to be held in the little church near Eva’s home. The priest was not very happy to be asked to conduct the marriage, but as Paul had the necessary paperwork, he could do little more than agree to Paul’s request. Once they had sorted out the time of the wedding, Eva knew that they would have to break the news to Jean and Fleur. Jean was still not happy about the engagement, and she knew that there was a good chance that he would refuse to come to the wedding. She hoped that Fleur would agree to attend, for she preferred to have someone to share her happiness with her and there was not really anyone else she could ask. She would very much have liked to share everything with Aimee, but that was out of the question, and although she had not contacted them, she guessed that Marie and Elaine would feel the same way.
Predictably, Jean was not pleased about the forthcoming nuptials, even suggesting that maybe they had to get married because Eva was pregnant. Once he had expressed that particular concern, Fleur took Eva to one side and assured her that they would care for her and the baby and that she certainly should not need to feel pressured into marrying Paul. With a laugh, Eva assured Fleur that it most definitely was not a shotgun wedding and that she was marrying Paul of her own free will, because she loved him and wanted to be with him. She then went off to the parlour, where Jean was pretending to read a particularly weighty tome, hoping that she would be able to persuade him to be happy for her.
Jean looked up as she closed the door behind her, remembering how happy Emile had been when he had called them to tell them that he had met the girl he wanted to marry. He had brought Eva to the Channel Islands and proudly introduced her to his parents, and Jean and Fleur had been delighted to see their only child so much in love. They had fallen in love with Eva, too, for she was sweet and gentle and quite clearly adored Emile, and it was easy to welcome her into their lives. As he looked at her, he noticed that she wore the same expression as she had when she had been with Emile, that of a woman completely in love, and he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make her change her mind about Paul.
Eva sat down beside Jean and looked earnestly at him. “Papa, I know you don’t think I should do this,” she said in her gentle voice. “But I’d be so pleased if you would come to the wedding. I hate to think that I would get married without you there.”
“Eva, I know I can’t change your mind about Paul,” he said, taking her hand in his, “But I can ask you to wait. Don’t get married until the war is over, child. It will be so much easier for you then.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Eva told him. “What if Paul’s killed? We have to take this chance because we might not get another.”
“And what if you are killed for being a collaborator?” Jean asked quietly. “Eva, I know you and Paul want to be together and I’m happy that you have found someone you love, but if you could just wait until the war ends it would be better. If you love each other there should be no problem with waiting until it’s safe to get married. Then I shall give you my blessing willingly. He’s a nice man, Eva, but it’s just too dangerous for you to marry him now.”
Eva shook her head and Jean realized that he had never guessed how stubborn she could be. “Please come tomorrow,” she said beseechingly. “I really would be thrilled if you would give me away.”
Jean sighed. “You minx,” he said, finally smiling at her. “Put like that, how can I refuse?”
Eva got up and flung her arms around him. “Thank you,” she cried, kissing his cheek. “Thank you so much.”
Jean hugged her back, but he was unable to share her joy. He was still certain that they were doing the wrong thing in getting married, and he knew that there could only be difficulty and sorrow ahead of them, but he had no choice other than to go along with them or lose Eva. He watched as she straightened and almost danced out of the room, presumably going off to inform Paul and Fleur of his capitulation and he sighed heavily, turning back to his book.
Eva told Fleur and Paul the good news, before retiring to her room, where she put the finishing touches to her wedding dress. She had used the gown she wore when she married Emile, but had altered it so that it would look quite different. Fortunately it had had a very full skirt and she had been able to make a rather chic suit, with a short-skirted dress and a little jacket and she was delighted with the results. She had a string of pearls given to her by her father on her eighteenth birthday and a pair of silk stockings she had found right at the bottom of her trunk, but the only shoes she had that would be suitable were sandals which, in December, were not really very practical. Finally, chuckling happily to herself, Eva decided that she would put the sandals in her handbag and go to the church in her boots, and change before she walked down the aisle. She could then change back again after the service. She took a last look at herself in the mirror, and then put the clothes away carefully, feeling as excited about the quiet little ceremony that would be taking place the next afternoon as she had about the larger wedding she and Emile had planned.
As she closed her wardrobe, a knock at her bedroom door heralded the arrival of Fleur, who was carrying a small package, all wrapped up in tissue paper. She put it into Eva’s hands with a giggle. “I think you should be traditional,” she explained, “So this counts as both the ‘something borrowed’ and the ‘something blue’.”
Eva peeled back the paper and found that Fleur had provided her with some rather beautiful silk underwear. “This is gorgeous,” she said in surprise.
“I bought it just before the war,” she explained, “But never got round to wearing it. It was so pretty I couldn’t resist it.”
“Thank you,” said Eva, hugging Fleur. “Tomorrow is going to be wonderful.”
“I hope so,” said Fleur, looking at Eva’s happy face. “You certainly deserve something wonderful after everything you’ve been through.”
“Oh, I haven’t been through anything worse than anyone else,” said Eva depreciatingly. “There is one thing I’m worried about, though, Maman.”
“What’s that?”
“How I will avoid Paul in the morning,” she asked with a giggle. “I don’t want to see him until I get to the church.”
“I’ll keep him out of your way,” Fleur promised. “Don’t worry about that, Eva.”
“Thank you, Maman,” said Eva, stashing the underwear away with the rest of her wedding clothes. “Come on,” she said, linking arms with Fleur, “Let’s go and get all the housework done so we can have a complete break from it tomorrow.”
#156:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 7:52 am
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Glad that Jean and Fleur can be happy for her. It would've been hard for them to see their late son's wife remarrying even if Paul wasn't who he is.

Thanks Becky Very Happy .
#157:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 7:56 am
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I hope Eva and Paul have a happy day despite the circumstances.

Thanks, Fatima.
#158:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 8:47 am
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*hoping their day is perfect for them*

Thanks, Becky Very Happy
#159:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 9:59 am
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Thanks, Becky. I really hope their day is a happy one and memorable for the right reasons.
#160:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 10:05 am
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Here's a little more for you.

Eva awoke early the next morning and lay in bed feeling excited. It was amazing to think that she was going to get married in just a few hours time, and she spent a while thinking about Emile and her first wedding. She knew that she was doing the right thing, though, marrying Paul, and she hoped that Emile would not begrudge her a second chance at happiness. She got out of bed to find a hanky, for thoughts of Emile had made her tearful, and as she wiped her eyes, she pulled the curtains back and looked out to see that it was a lovely sunny morning, although there was frost on the grass and it was obviously very cold. Just for a moment Eva wished that it would snow, imagining how beautiful everything would look, but the thought of such cold made her realize that they were lucky to have sunshine instead.
She pulled on some old clothes and ran lightly downstairs where Jean was sitting beside the window, sipping a cup of ersatz coffee and gazing out across the frosty garden. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down, her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “Papa,” she said hesitantly, for he had not turned to look at her.
“Good morning, love,” said Jean, finally facing her. “How are you feeling? Nervous?”
“No, excited,” she told him with a smile.
“I remember the day I married Fleur,” he said, his voice wistful. “I was scared to death – thought she might leave me at the altar. She turned up, though, and made me the happiest man alive.”
Fleur, who had come in from the garden in time to hear that, patted Jean’s shoulder. “It was a gorgeous wedding, wasn’t it,” she said reflectively. “Eva, it’s going to be a lovely day. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky.”
Eva smiled, wishing that they had organized a photographer to come to the church. In the interests of keeping things quiet, though, they had told no one what was to happen, and it seemed likely that the wedding would go virtually unrecorded. Suddenly they heard footsteps on the stairs, and Eva knew that Paul was coming down for breakfast. With a shriek she leapt out of her seat and bolted into the pantry, pulling the door closed behind her. She heard Paul come into the kitchen and enquire about her yell, then she heard him chuckle and he was going back upstairs again. She tried to open the pantry door, but it had caught on the latch and did not open from the inside, so she banged on the door.
“Let me out!” she shouted, and Fleur, laughing helplessly, opened the door for her. “Has he gone?” she asked, looking round the kitchen.
“Yes, I’ve sent him back upstairs and told him he’s not to come out until I fetch him,” said Fleur. “Have your breakfast, Eva, and then you can go up and have a bath.”
Eva sat back at the table and nibbled on a slice of potato bread. “Did he look all right?” she asked, a dreamy expression in her eyes.
“He looked hungry,” said Jean, always practical.
“We always look hungry,” Fleur reminded him. “He looked happy,” she told Eva. “Do you want some more coffee?”
“No, thank you,” she said. “It’s actually rather horrible.” Eva stood up and picked up another slice of potato bread. “I’ll finish this upstairs,” she decided. “You’ll keep him down here for a while, won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll come and tell you when he’s coming upstairs,” said Fleur, starting to feel excited about the wedding herself. It might not be the wedding they had hoped Eva would have, but it was what she wanted and Fleur was glad to see Eva so happy at last.
Eva spent a long time lying in the warm water, enjoying the luxury of bath salts, provided by Fleur from a bottle she had found beneath the bed. When it got too cold to enjoy the bath, Eva got out and wrapped herself in a huge towel before dashing back to her room. She now had a couple of hours to fill before she would need to head to the church, and it was a little too early to begin to dress. She perched on the windowsill, looking out at the view again, not allowing herself to think beyond the afternoon. If she was to think about the war and what would happen when it ended, she knew she would be consumed with worry for the future, for her future with Paul, and she did not want to spoil the complete happiness of her wedding day by wondering how she would manage when Paul was no longer with her. She thought instead of the days they had spent together over the summer and autumn, how they had walked and talked and laughed together and what a good friend he had become. In fact, he was her only friend she realized, for she never saw any of the other friends she had made since coming to the Channel Islands and was no longer in contact with any of her school friends. Eva sighed. It was not pleasant to discover that one had no friends. Once the war ended, though, and people began to accept that not all Germans were Nazis, she and Paul would rebuild their lives and she would make new friends. Until then, she would focus on the good things she had – a wonderful soon-to-be-husband and super brevet parents – and not dwell upon all that she had lost.
Eva got dressed, giggling as she slipped on Fleur’s underwear, and then fastened the jacket, hoping that she would be warm enough in the church. She sat before the mirror and put on her makeup and did her hair, opting for a simple style to match the simplicity of her outfit. Finally, just after one o’clock, Eva heard Fleur dashing upstairs calling her name. She opened the door cautiously, peeping out to check that Paul was not likely to see her, and then standing in the doorway to show Fleur how she looked.
“Beautiful,” said Fleur appreciatively. “They’ve gone to the church, Eva. We can go in a few minutes.”
With a grin, Eva slipped her feet into the fur lined boots she planned to head to the church in. “It’s all right,” she explained, as Fleur looked less impressed. “I’ve got my sandals in my bag.”
They went downstairs and sat together in the kitchen, wanting to give Paul and Jean enough time to reach the church before setting off themselves. It would not do to catch them up on the way and all arrive together. Once they had allowed sufficient time, they pulled on their winter coats and set off together in the pale winter sunshine. It was not far to the church, and soon they were walking into the porch, where Eva stopped to take off her coat and change her shoes while Fleur hurried in to reassure their men folk that the bride had arrived.
The service was short and simple and very soon Paul and Eva were walking arm in arm out of the church, man and wife at last. Fleur and Jean followed them and embraced them both warmly, then Paul produced a small camera from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to Jean. “I managed to get a film for it,” he said, with a smile at Eva. “I didn’t want us to be married without any photos.”
“I’m so glad you thought of that,” said Eva happily.
Jean took a whole film of pictures of the happy couple and then they walked back to the house again. Paul was to take Jean and Fleur to St. Peter Port after lunch, where they would stay with Fleur’s sister Faye until the next day, giving the newly weds a chance to spend some time alone together. Fleur and Eva had prepared a casserole for their lunch, and Paul provided some champagne, which had cost him a small fortune on the black market, then he took Jean and Fleur off to her sister’s while Eva cleared up the lunch things. She made tea and took it into the sitting room, where a fire was ready to be lit and once she had done that, she waited impatiently for Paul to return.
When she heard the back door open, Eva leapt up and ran to meet Paul. He shut the door and locked it, and then he caught her in his arms and kissed her as he had wanted to do all day. When he finally drew back a little and looked into her face, he saw that she looked as happy as he felt. With their arms around each other they went into the sitting room and curled up together on the settee.
“You look so beautiful today,” he told her, his voice as soft as the caresses he was lavishing on her. “I’m just so sorry I can’t take you away for a honeymoon. Once the war’s over, I promise I’ll take you somewhere special.”
“I’m not bothered about a honeymoon,” she assured him. “I think it’s lovely to have the house to ourselves.”
“I’m not going to collect Jean and Fleur until tomorrow evening,” he told her, “So we have just about a whole day to enjoy being on our own.”
“Perfect,” she sighed, melting into his embrace once more.
#161:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 12:23 pm
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*throws confetti*

Thanks, Becky Very Happy
#162:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 12:28 pm
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Glad it all went so well Very Happy .
#163:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Fri Aug 18, 2006 1:05 pm
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Glad it went well. I'm still wibbling rather a lot though.
#164:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sat Aug 19, 2006 5:32 am
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By the time Christmas came, Eva felt as though she had been married to Paul for months, not just a couple of weeks. Unlike the previous Christmas, they had a wonderful time, all going to Church together in the morning and then sitting down to a reasonably plentiful dinner of chicken, potatoes and vegetables. In the afternoon they lazed in front of the fire and Paul passed around a small block of chocolate, which they devoured with joy, as they had not had such a luxury for so long. Fleur and Jean reminisced about Christmases gone by and Paul told them about the traditions of his family. Eva recalled happy days in Austria, tears coming into her eyes as she talked of her parents, so Paul hastened to change the subject.
A few days after Christmas they received the good news that, finally, the SS Vega was due to arrive, carrying Red Cross food parcels, and at the end of the month, Paul and Eva returned from St. Peter Port proudly bearing their parcels. They were thrilled when they opened the parcels, which had come from Canada, to find that they contained some wonderfully luxurious items, such as a small tin of salmon and some chocolate, as well as the more basic foodstuffs like cheese, biscuits, sugar, tea and jam. Opening the parcels, it felt almost as if Christmas had come again, and although they knew that they would have to make the supplies last until the ship was able to return to the islands, they did treat themselves to a particularly nice dinner that evening, all washed down with a cup of real tea.
As the New Year began, news of the war continued to filter through to the Channel Islands, and it seemed that the Germans were withdrawing in the face of the Allied advances. The British and Americans were pushing towards Germany’s western borders while the Soviets advanced on the eastern borders. Eva did her best to savour every moment she spent with Paul, for as the weeks passed she knew that they would soon be separated. As the harsh winter gave way to the warmer days of spring, Eva was delighted to discover that she was pregnant. She felt very well, but rather tired, and would often fall asleep as soon as she sat down in the living room after lunch, or in the evening. Paul told her that he was delighted at the prospect of becoming a father, which was true, but he did not mention how dreadfully they had timed the pregnancy; in mid-April the German forces in the Ruhr surrendered and shortly afterwards the Soviets reached Berlin. It was now just a matter of weeks before the war in Europe ended and Paul would be obliged to leave the Channel Islands while Eva was pregnant. She would be deprived of his protection and support just when she needed it the most and he would probably not be around when the baby was born. He knew that he could rely on Jean and Fleur giving Eva all the support that they could, but it would be very difficult for them all. Eva was so thrilled to think that she was going to have their baby that Paul did not tell her of his worries; he spoke instead to Jean, who actually managed to stop himself from uttering the expected ‘I told you so’ and agreed that Paul had every reason to be worried about Eva. However, he promised to do all that he could to make sure she was kept safe, and did his best to reassure Paul.
In May the Germans surrendered, and on the 8th May Paul came back from the Wehrmacht headquarters to tell his family that the war had ended in the Channel Islands at least. The next morning the Germans would be surrendering to the British and he would be leaving the island a prisoner of war.
#165:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sat Aug 19, 2006 7:39 am
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At least he's survived the war. Hope all goes well with the baby Very Happy .
#166:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sat Aug 19, 2006 1:05 pm
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I'm glad Paul has survived, but how will Eva manage without him? Will he be able to return to her?
#167:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Aug 19, 2006 1:53 pm
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Hope all goes well with the baby and that Paul and Eva are not parted for long Confused

Thanks, Alison
#168:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sun Aug 20, 2006 6:52 am
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Although glad that the war was finally coming to an end, Eva was devastated to think that her last day with Paul had almost ended. They were to surrender at dawn aboard the HMS Bulldog, which was moored off St. Helier, and Paul could only spare a few hours with Eva. He came home late in the afternoon, bringing extra Red Cross parcels and some other commodities he hoped they would find useful once he had gone, then he took Eva upstairs to their room and gave her a pile of documents that she would need to keep safe for him, while he took copies of some of them with him to England. He spent a long time talking to her, making her promise that she would be careful and live as quietly and unobtrusively as possible, not drawing attention to herself in any way, and he absolutely forbade her to leave the islands to try to find him. He assured her that he would return just as soon as he could and that he would write to her from wherever they took him.
Eva wept then. She had known all along that there would come a time when they would have to part, but she had always tried not to think about it. Now that the moment had arrived, she did not know how she would manage to let him go. He held her tightly, hating the thought of leaving her just as much as she hated the thought of him going, but neither of them regretted the time they had spent together.
”Can’t we hide you?” she asked suddenly, turning a tear-stained face towards him.
“No, liebchen,” he told her gently. “My absence would soon be noticed.” He kissed her gently, drawing her down onto the bed at his side. He ran a hand across the firm swell of her stomach, saddened to think that he would not be around when the baby was born. “I’ll leave you my camera,” he told her. “You can take some photos and send them to me.”
“I will,” she promised. She gently touched his face, noticing how weary he looked after a busy morning destroying paperwork so that it did not fall into Allied hands and trying to find extra supplies to leave for them. “Paul, will you be gone a long time?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I’ll come back as soon as I can, Eva.” He leaned down to kiss her, and they abandoned discussion for the time being at least.
A lot later, when it was still pitch dark outside, Paul got reluctantly out of bed and began to dress. He tried to persuade Eva to remain in bed, for they had not slept at all, but she got up, too, and went downstairs with him, wanting to get his breakfast for the last time. She made him porridge, for he might not get another decent meal for many hours, and tea and then he was pulling on his greatcoat and preparing to leave. He took her in his arms one last time, holding her tightly and then they heard Jean and Fleur coming to say farewell to the man they had reluctantly welcomed into their home and were now reluctantly letting go. And before Eva knew it, Paul had kissed her once more and was gone.
“Go back to bed for a while,” suggested Fleur, so Eva went upstairs, but she decided not to go to bed. She dressed and crept downstairs once more, slipping out into the garden and taking her bicycle from the shed. Hoping that Fleur and Jean would think that she was sound asleep, she pedalled away, so that she would be able to stand quietly beside the harbour and watch what happened to the German garrison. It seemed a long way, cycling in the dark, but eventually she reached St. Peter Port just as the sun came up. There were lots of troops on the quayside, all quietly waiting, standing in little groups, talking and smoking, and although Eva looked carefully at them all from her vantage point at the end of the quay, she could not see Paul amongst them. She propped her bike up against the wall, fixing on the chain so that no one could steal it, and sat on the seawall, wishing she had stopped to bring some food with her.
It was a long and dull wait. The soldiers soon sat along the wall and on their kitbags, some staring out to sea, some talking quietly. One of them was playing a haunting melody on a flute, the melancholy notes rippling across the bay and bringing a tear to Eva’s eye. Finally, however, her vigilance was rewarded. A boat came into the harbour and some senior looking officers disembarked, followed by some British soldiers. Orders were shouted and the Germans gathered up their things, forming into two orderly columns, one of which headed off along the quay with some of the British troops whilst the other part marched down towards the boat. Eva crept closer, needing to see which group Paul was with, and finally saw him near the end of the line heading for the boat. He was evidently going in the first group of prisoners to leave the island.
Eva walked along the quayside, even as increasing numbers of Channel Islanders started to arrive at the harbour to welcome the British troops. She got as close to the jetty as she could, and as Paul drew level with her, he caught sight of her. Just for a moment she wanted to run to him, but thoughts of Sylvie stopped her in her tracks. Paul stopped, so near she could almost touch him, but not quite.
“Go home,” he advised, trying to look cross with her but only managing to seem glad of the chance to gaze at her once more.
Hoping that the British were more understanding than the Germans, Eva stepped forward into his arms. “I love you,” she told him, her voice breaking. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, liebchen,” he responded, gently putting her away from him as a British soldier waved his rifle at him.
Eva watched as he boarded the boat and waved as he turned back to wave to her, then he was gone out of sight. She bit her lip and turned, heading back to her bike, and she sat again on the wall, her legs swinging over the water, watching as the boat was untied and then set off out of the harbour. She continued to sit there until it disappeared from sight, and then, blinded by tears, she set off on the long ride home.
#169:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sun Aug 20, 2006 8:39 am
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Hope no-one starts taking revenge on Eva for being married to a German soldier Rolling Eyes .
#170:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sun Aug 20, 2006 12:17 pm
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Becky, this is so moving! I can feel Eva's pain. Thank you for this.
#171:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 6:50 am
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Over the next weeks, Eva stayed quietly at home, trying to put a brave face on things. She missed Paul terribly – over the past year they had been constant companions, doing everything together, and it was strange not having him there. She spent ages lying on her bed, resting, gazing at the photograph of them on their wedding day, wondering what had happened to him and whether he was safe and well. Eventually a letter arrived, and Eva discovered that Paul had been taken to a camp in the south west of England. He assured her that he was being well treated, although he was expected to work hard on a nearby farm, helping with all sorts of jobs, some pleasant and some not so pleasant. Eva was thrilled with the letter, reading and re-reading it until she almost knew it off by heart and she began to write to him almost every day, and then she would post the veritable wad of paper each week in the small post office in Torteval.
The liberation of the Channel Islands had not made much difference to life in Guernsey. Rationing continued, and food and fuel were still in short supply, but people were so much happier. More food parcels came from the Red Cross, and in mid-June Eva was obliged to cycle into St. Peter Port to collect them. Fleur was suffering from a debilitating stomach bug and much as she hated to ask Eva to go, they had no choice. Eva, who was now five months pregnant, promised to be very careful, taking the journey slowly and carefully and stopping to rest if she felt at all tired. She put some biscuits and a bottle of water in her bicycle basket and set off, starting to feel cheerful as she cycled along the country lanes as she had done so often before. She realized that she had allowed herself to become lazy, staying at home and letting Fleur go out to shop, not even walking in the fields as she had once loved to do, and she decided that she would make time to go walking again.
She reached St. Peter Port without mishap and found the shop from which the Red Cross parcels were distributed. As usual there was a crowd of people waiting outside and as she joined the queue, Eva remembered the day she had discovered that Paul was a German officer. It had been a lot hotter that day, and Eva was glad that there was a pleasant breeze blowing along the street, keeping it cool today. She stood in line, noticing how much more cheerful everyone was, and she gave herself over to contemplation of what would be in the parcels this time.
Suddenly Eva became aware of a change in the atmosphere; people were no longer chatting and laughing, they were falling silent and then she realized that they were staring at her.
“Look at the fat Nazi whore!” cried a mother who was holding the hand of a painfully skinny little girl. Eva recognized her as Elaine’s sister, in whose company she had spent several evenings towards the beginning of the German occupation.
“She doesn’t need any extra rations,” agreed another woman, looking with disgust at Eva.
“Do you know what they do to jerry bags in France?” asked an elderly man with a fearsome moustache. “They take them into the village square and shave their heads. Then everyone knows them for the filthy collaborating scum that they are.”
“We ought to do that here,” chimed in a younger man. Eva looked at him and realized that he had been with David Graham and had thrown the rotten tomato at her. “I think we could begin with her.” Eva was shocked to hear a chorus of agreement and the young man stepped forward and seized her arm. “What do you think?” he shouted to the crowd. “Shall we shave her head? Shall we show her that we don’t tolerate her sort here?”
Again there was a chorus of agreement. Eva glanced around her and found that the people had forgotten about their Red Cross parcels and were now enjoying her discomfort. She saw Janine appear at the door of the Lihou Tea Garden, and other shopkeepers come out of their shops to see what all the commotion was about. No one made the slightest move to help her, though, and seeing their angry faces and hearing the comments that they were making, Eva knew that she was in serious trouble. David’s friend was leading her along the street now, and the rest of the crowd were following, still shouting abuse. Eva knew that she had to get away from them, so she drew a deep breath, wrenched her arm from his grasp and pelted off along the street as fast as she could.
She knew that she was very unfit, but the worry of them harming the baby seemed to make her fleet of foot. She turned into a small side street, hearing the pounding of feet behind her, but not daring to turn and look to see how close they were. She rounded the next corner and crossed the street, narrowly escaping being run over by a young delivery boy on a bike. Gasping now, she dashed down another alleyway, wondering if she ought to duck behind a large bin and hope no one noticed her, but she realized that if they did catch her again they would be certain to keep a tight hold on her and not give her a second chance of running away.
A painful stitch gripped her side, but she kept on running, coming out of the alleyway and running along the street as if the hounds of hell were after her. She risked a glance behind her and found that some of the younger men seemed to be gaining on her, so she forced herself onwards, almost losing her balance as she skidded around a tight corner into yet another little alleyway. She nearly stopped running when she saw someone standing at the far end of the short alley, knowing that she would not have the strength to push past them and fearing she would be trapped, but she could still hear the mob behind her and fear kept her going.
#172:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:42 am
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Oh dear Sad .
#173:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 8:26 am
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*meeps quietly*
#174:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 12:45 pm
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Eeek! Fatima, please make her and the baby ok!
#175:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 4:05 pm
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Oh no! How awful! Please let them both be ok.
#176:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Tue Aug 22, 2006 4:52 am
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Suddenly Eva realized that it was Aimee at the end of the alley, the back gate to her garden open, and as Eva drew level with her, she pulled her inside, closed the gate and bolted it firmly. Eva had managed to get far enough ahead of the mob for them not to have seen where she went, and as Aimee put an arm around Eva’s shoulders and led her across the garden, they heard the running footsteps thunder past, and shouts as they asked one another where their quarry had gone. Eva listened with relief as they decided she had turned the corner and gone on down the street, and soon their shouts and cries sounded far off and she knew that she was safe.
“Come in,” said Aimee, her arm still round Eva’s heaving shoulders. She led her friend into the kitchen, where she sat her down at the table and passed her a glass of water.
Eva sipped it slowly, her breath still coming in ragged gasps, and the pain of the stitch in her side almost more than she could bear. Aimee patted her shoulder comfortingly, knowing that Eva was beyond speech, and went to put the kettle on.
“Mum saw what happened in the street,” said Aimee, busily spooning tea into the pot. “When she saw you head off towards here, she called me and told me to watch out for you and see if I could get you away from the mob. I’m so glad you came this way, Eva.”
Eva put the glass on the table and leaned back in the chair, trying to breathe more slowly and deeply. “Thank you,” she finally managed to gasp.
“You shouldn’t speak,” advised Aimee. “Just take a moment to get your breath back.” She made the tea and put the pot and two cups onto a tray, then she poured a little milk into a jug and added the sugar basin before disappearing into the living room.
Eva felt that she ought to get up and make an effort to follow Aimee, but her legs seemed to have turned to jelly and she could not stand. Aimee returned, though, and helped Eva to her feet, leading her into the sitting room and settling her in a deep, comfortable armchair. She then poured the tea, adding two large sugar lumps to Eva’s cup and setting it on the table at her side. “Thank you,” Eva said again.
“How have you been?” Aimee asked after a moment of rather awkward silence.
“All right,” Eva said, her breathing more or less normal again. “I can’t thank you enough for coming out to find me,” she went on, looking earnestly at her former friend. “If they’d seen you, they would probably have taken us both off.”
“Where were they taking you?” asked Aimee.
“To shave my head as a symbol of my collaboration,” said Eva, her eyes filling with tears as she realized just how close they had been to having her at their mercy. And once a feeling of revenge had seized the mob, she knew that they would have done worse to her than that.
Aimee took Eva’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s all right,” she said soothingly. “You’re safe now, Eva.”
Eva wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared,” she said quietly.
“Drink up your tea,” suggested Aimee. “It’s hot and sweet and will make you feel better.” She passed the cup to Eva, and disappeared to find some biscuits, too, pressing them on her friend until Eva had regained her normal colour and steadiness of hand.
Eva stood up to take the tray back to the kitchen. “I suppose I’d better get back home,” she said, wondering how she would collect the food parcels now.
“You can’t go until after dark,” said Aimee decisively. “If they see you they won’t let you get away a second time.”
“But Maman will worry,” said Eva, imagining how upset Fleur and Jean would be if she was still out as darkness fell.
“Call her,” suggested Aimee. “Leave the washing up to me and go and phone.”
Eva did as she was bidden, telling Jean that she had met up with Aimee and gone to visit her and even managed to sound upbeat and cheerful about it, leaving Jean entirely unaware of the real reason behind her visit to Aimee. She went back into the kitchen, where Aimee was peeling potatoes for dinner, and began to wipe up the crockery, wondering what they could talk about. It had been exactly eighteen months since Eva had last carried on any sort of normal conversation with Aimee, eighteen months in which Eva had been completely wrapped up in her feelings for Paul and that was not exactly something she could discuss with Aimee.
“Are you pregnant?” asked Aimee conversationally, much to Eva’s surprise.
“Yes,” Eva answered, looking directly at Aimee, trying to gauge her reaction.
“You poor thing,” said Aimee, her voice full of compassion. “Perhaps I’d better ask Luc to come over and see you. He could take you home, too.”
“No, I’m fine,” said Eva at once. “Honestly, Aimee, there’s no need to call him.”
“He’d like to come over,” Aimee said. “He’s still in love with you, Eva. Why don’t you give him another chance? Maybe they’d all lay off you if they thought you were with Luc.”
Eva shook her head. She had told no one of the quiet ceremony which had made her Paul’s wife, and did not plan on telling Aimee even though she might possibly owe her friend her life. “That wouldn’t be fair to Luc,” she told Aimee.
“But your Jerry is gone,” Aimee pointed out. “It’s your best hope now, to go with Luc. He’ll be understanding, I know.”
Eva shook her head, but Aimee had already gone off to call the hospital and talk to Luc. Just for a moment, Eva considered slipping out the back door and going back to find her bike so that she could cycle home and forget all about her dreadful day, but she knew that she had little chance of finding it where she had left it. After all, she was no longer worthy of any consideration and they would think nothing of either stealing her bicycle or destroying it. And it was a very long walk back home, and potentially dangerous, too, if undertaken in daylight. She had to get safely out of St. Peter Port and away along the road, and she knew she was not yet ready to exert herself that much. It seemed as though she had no choice other than to wait with Aimee until dark, and submit to a visit from the young doctor.
#177:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Tue Aug 22, 2006 7:44 am
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Glad she's OK, but sadly the problem's not going to go away.
#178:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Tue Aug 22, 2006 9:05 am
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Glad Aimee was there b... b.... but *worries*
#179:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Tue Aug 22, 2006 4:21 pm
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Glad Eva is ok and that Aimee was there for her, but don't think things are going to get any easier for her.
#180:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 5:08 am
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Eva and Aimee soon fell into easy conversation, and Aimee apologised profusely for the way she had turned Eva away the previous summer. Eva assured her that she had more than made up for it by rescuing her that day, and they agreed to put their differences of opinion behind them. They steered clear of all talk of Paul, though, instinctively recognizing that they would be unable to agree to differ there. Janine came home once her assistant had relieved her in the teashop and Eva thanked her for alerting Aimee to the danger that she had been in. Janine was pleasant enough to Eva, but from her reserved manner, Eva knew that she still believed that Eva had been wrong to fall in love with a German soldier. Despite this, Janine agreed that Eva would certainly need to stay for dinner, and that she ought not try to return home until darkness had fallen.
To Eva’s delight, Janine had managed to take her bike into the teashop while the crowd was busy chasing after her, and she had cycled back home on it that afternoon, leaving it in the back garden ready for Eva. “Thank you so much,” said Eva gratefully. “I thought it was gone forever.”
“You’d better not come back to town, though,” said Janine, but her voice was completely without malice. “They will not forget what you have done.”
Eva wanted to tell them that she had done nothing whatsoever to help or hinder anyone during the course of the war, but she knew there was no point. Janine would never agree that it was possible to love a German.
“If you like, I could collect your food parcels,” said Aimee, “And bring them out to you.”
“No, we certainly couldn’t expect you to,” protested Eva, as Janine looked warningly at her daughter. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”
Janine looked at the two girls. “Eva, go and sit down quietly. I’m sure you need to rest after all you’ve been through. Aimee, come and help me with the dinner.”
Eva went back into the sitting room, knowing that Janine was going to warn Aimee about further contact with her. They had helped her when she had needed it, but it seemed that was to be the end of it as far as Janine was concerned. Eva sat on the settee and put her feet up on a conveniently placed footstool, linking her hands across her stomach. The cruel stitch had passed and she now felt fine, but she was more than a little worried about the effect that the stress of the day would have had on the baby. She could hear Janine and Aimee talking earnestly, but could not make out what they were saying. It didn’t take too much imagination to think that they were planning to say goodbye to Eva later that evening and hope that they did not clap eyes on her again.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, calling to mind pictures of happy days spent with Paul. She thought regretfully of having the baby on her own, of Paul not seeing his child for months, or perhaps years, and how she would manage, bringing up a child in a place where she was viewed as a criminal. She began to wonder if she should leave Guernsey and start a new life where no one knew about her, but then Paul would not know where to find her when he was finally set free. Eva sighed, wondering why nothing was ever easy.
Eva was on the verge of falling asleep when Luc arrived. Aimee showed him into the sitting room and then closed the door to give them some privacy. Eva sat up, looking nervously at the young doctor and dreading the forthcoming interview with him. “Hello Luc,” she said in response to his greeting.
Luc perched on the sofa at her side. “Aimee said you need a ride home,” he said.
“No, it’s all right” she told him. “I’ve got my bike back and I’m happy to cycle home.”
“They told me what happened,” said Luc in a voice that brooked no arguments, “And I think you have someone to worry about other than yourself, so I’ll take you home. Do you want me to check you over?”
Slowly Eva nodded, her desire to know if the baby was all right overcoming her embarrassment. “Yes, please,” she agreed.
“Lie down, then.” Luc opened his bag and found his stethoscope. He helped Eva loosen her skirt and gently felt her stomach, locating the baby before trying to hear its heartbeat. “Are you seeing a doctor?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t yet,” said Eva. She had not wanted to broadcast the news of her pregnancy and had naively hoped that she would be able to give birth at home with only Fleur on hand to help her.
“You should,” he told her. “I can hear the baby’s heartbeat, it sounds strong and regular. Have you had any pains?”
“Only a stitch in my side when I was running,” said Eva, feeling reassured. “That’s gone now, though.”
Luc took her blood pressure, which he pronounced as normal, and then he told her that everything seemed to be fine. “You ought to think about the future, Eva,” he told her as she sat up again. “It’s going to be really difficult for you to raise this baby alone, especially if you are too scared to go out.”
“Paul will come back,” she told him, “And then everything will be all right.”
“What if he doesn’t?” asked Luc gently.
“He will,” she told him with certainty.
Luc watched as she tucked her blouse in, wondering what it would take to convince her that officers in an occupying army did not come back to find illegitimate children they had fathered. “If you don’t want to come to the hospital, I could come and see you at home,” he told her. “You should have someone keeping an eye on you, Eva.”
“I’ll be fine, thank you,” she said and he heard the finality in her voice.
Aimee appeared to invite Luc to stay for tea and Eva knew from the look that Aimee gave them that she hoped Luc would have made Eva see sense. Aimee came in and sat with them, and she talked easily with Luc, both of them making every effort to draw Eva into the conversation, but she realized that she had little in common with them any more. She did her best to smile in all the right places, but she was longing to get home now and lie quietly on her own bed, more upset by the day’s events than she had thought. They ate their meal, a very simple potato dish with a few seasonal vegetables, and afterwards Luc declared that he thought it would be safe to take Eva home. He squeezed her bike into his car and then checked that the alley was clear before taking Eva out to the car, helping her into the front seat and getting in himself. He advised her to keep her head down until they had left St. Peter Port, but once they were out on the country road he told her that they had got safely away and she could sit up properly. Eva sighed with relief, sitting on her hands so that Luc would not see how they were shaking. It had been very nerve-wracking leaving the town, worrying that someone would see her and try to stop Luc from taking her away. Luc glanced over at his passenger, guessing how she was feeling and patted her knee comfortingly.
“It’s all right,” he reassured her, his voice soft. “You are quite safe now.”
Not liking him to be so familiar with, her Eva bit back a sharp rebuke, reminding herself that he was being very kind to her, but she was quite determined that she would not be seeing Luc again after tonight. She would remain quietly at home, minding her own business, keeping out of trouble. She would just concentrate on having the baby and caring for it and waiting patiently for Paul to come back to her. She drew a deep breath to steady herself and watched the darkening landscape from her window until they arrived home. Luc got out and helped Eva put her bicycle safely away in the shed, then he turned towards her and looked seriously down at her.
“I’ll come back in a week, just to check you over again,” he told her. “If you feel any discomfort or you’re worried, call me and I’ll come at once.”
“You don’t need to,” she told him abruptly.
“No, but I’d like to,” he said, reaching out to touch her rather dishevelled hair. “Eva, I’ve missed you a lot this last year.” Eva pulled back quickly, and almost fell as she stepped on the very edge of the path. Luc quickly caught her arms and seized the opportunity to hold her against him. As he bent his head towards hers, Eva pulled away again.
“Don’t, Luc,” she protested. “I’ve told you, I’m not interested.”
“You’ve messed me around for long enough now, Eva,” he said warningly. “I’m not going to wait for you much longer.”
“There’s no point in waiting for me at all,” she told him, and she walked away up the path and into the house.
#181:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 7:39 am
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Poor Eva - life just seems to be getting more and more complicated Rolling Eyes .
#182:  Author: Caroline OSullivan, Location: Reading, Berkshire, UK PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 8:06 am
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Glad Eva is ok and it was just a stitch. Why hasn't she told Aimee and Luc that she and Paul are married? They seem to be under the impression that the baby will be illegitimate when it won't be.

Hopefully the rest of Eva's pregnancy will be troublefree

Thanks Fatima Very Happy
#183:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 9:27 am
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I think she's afraid it will make matters worse for her if they think she actually married the German. Surely that would be worse than just having an affair with him.
#184:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Wed Aug 23, 2006 1:11 pm
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Poor Eva. Things just don't seem to be getting any easier for her anytime soon. I think she's right not to tell them about the marriage. That would make things a lot harder for her.
#185:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Thu Aug 24, 2006 5:59 am
    —
When Eva arrived, Fleur and Jean were enjoying a warm drink before going to bed. They were unconcerned by her late return, having no reason to doubt that she had been enjoying her meeting with Aimee and not the slightest suspicion of all that had gone on in St. Peter Port that day. Eva could not face relating her experiences, so she declined the offer of hot chocolate and disappeared up to bed, telling them in an artificially bright voice that she was feeling tired.
Once she had changed and got between the sheets, Eva buried her face in the pillow and wept, her whole body shaking as she recalled the fear of the day and realized that she would have to live with that fear until Paul came back. She would have to stay at home, for if she ventured out at all someone might see her and remember their plans for her. She would not be lucky enough to escape again, and goodness only knew what they would do to her. It seemed so unfair that she should suffer this persecution when all she had done was to fall in love with a kind and considerate young man. Paul was just like so many other young men in the Channel Islands, someone who hated the war and was against all that Nazism stood for. He had been forced to fight for his country and this did not make him a bad man, and it seemed so wrong that people who did not even know him condemned him.
Suddenly Eva was aware of a hand on her shoulder, and she heard Fleur’s comforting tones enquiring into the reason for her tears. She rolled over and tried to tell Fleur that she was just missing Paul, but somehow her words did not ring true and Fleur knew that Eva was hiding something from her. “Maybe I can help,” said Fleur, passing Eva her hanky.
“No one can help,” Eva said and she told her all that had happened in St. Peter Port that morning.
Fleur was shocked to hear it, even though she knew that mobs had taken action against other girls accused of sleeping with the enemy. Somehow she had got used to seeing beyond Paul’s uniform and had assumed that everyone else would be able to do the same, and she realized how unrealistic she had been. “Are you all right?” she asked anxiously. “How are you feeling?”
“Luc checked me over at Aimee’s place,” Eva said. “I’m all right. But I can’t go back to St. Peter Port, Maman.”
“You won’t have to,” said Fleur, hugging Eva tightly. “I’ll ask Faye to get our rations if I can’t. She won’t mind. Don’t worry any more, Eva. You’ll be quite safe here.”
“I’m sorry,” sniffed Eva, finally managing to raise her head from Fleur’s shoulder.
Fleur patted Eva’s back. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she assured her. “Now go to sleep, we can talk some more tomorrow.”
Eva kissed Fleur’s cheek and snuggled down beneath her covers again. She discovered that she felt much better having talked to Fleur, and she was hopeful of falling asleep easily. What she did not expect was a night of vivid and unpleasant nightmares, which left her feeling very tearful and washed out when she abandoned her attempts to sleep just as dawn was breaking. And, more worryingly, she was aware of a nagging pain in her stomach, although she tried to persuade herself that it was just a stitch from her marathon run of the previous day.
She lay in bed for a while, groaning as a particularly sharp pain gripped her, and once it passed she wondered if she would feel better if she was moving round, so she got up. As she stood on the pretty rug beside the bed, to her horror, she felt a sudden gush and found herself standing in a pool of bloody water and she knew that it was not a stitch after all. With a sob she ran from the room and downstairs, where Fleur and Jean were having breakfast. One look at Eva’s white face was enough to tell them that there was something very wrong, and Fleur leaped to her feet and took Eva’s arm. Without waiting for any details, Fleur dispatched Jean to call Luc and hustled Eva back upstairs to bed.
“I don’t want to see him,” she protested as Fleur settled her comfortably. “There’s nothing he can do.”
“But we need to be sure that you are all right,” Fleur said firmly. “Lie still, Eva, and try to relax.”
“I can’t,” Eva cried, doubling up in pain again.
Fleur held her hand and calmed her down again once the pain had passed and so they passed the next hour until Luc arrived. By then Eva felt too drained to try to keep him away and just lay back weakly and let him take control. He quietly explained that there was nothing he could do to save the baby; Eva was in labour and there was no chance that the baby would live, born so early. Eva cried and raged then, but to no avail. The contractions continued to intensify and finally, just after midday, the baby was born.
#186:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Thu Aug 24, 2006 7:45 am
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Becky!

Come back and tell us that the baby's OK!!
#187:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Thu Aug 24, 2006 8:59 am
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*wails* Nooooo...
#188:  Author: Karry, Location: Stoke on Trent PostPosted: Thu Aug 24, 2006 9:24 am
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You can't leave us like this - wails! Sad Crying or Very sad Sad
#189:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Thu Aug 24, 2006 10:26 am
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How horrific! How far gone is she exactly? Sad
#190:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Thu Aug 24, 2006 4:59 pm
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Nooo! Please put us out of misery, Becky!
#191:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 3:56 am
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Eva was only about 5 or 6 months pregnant, so there was no hope. Crying or Very sad

Eva sat in the autumn sunshine, thinking back over the past months. They had been very difficult for her, firstly with the loss of the baby and then with a complete absence of letters from Paul. She had written a very stilted letter to explain the happenings of that dreadful June day and many letters since then, first of all letters that were filled with misery and self-blame, then more cheerful ones, but none of them had received an answer. As they had not been returned to her she assumed that he had received them, but she could not understand why he did not write back to her. She felt that he could at least have managed a brief note to tell her how sorry he was about the baby, even if he was as devastated by the news as she was; he had been as happy about her pregnancy as her and she could not imagine that he would be of the ‘it’s better this way’ school of thought and he really ought to have written to her to tell her how he felt, or to commiserate with her.
Since June Eva had got physically stronger but she was still trying to come to terms with her loss. Luc had let her hold the baby, a tiny boy, and she had cuddled him for a long time, wishing that it had been different, wishing that she had managed to carry him just a couple of months longer, so that he would have had some chance. Against Luc’s advice, she had also insisted on taking a photograph of him, knowing that she would always want to remember him no matter what anyone else thought she ought to do. She had cried when Luc had finally taken him away; no one had told her what happened to him and Eva just could not make herself ask. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, although by day she was now able to put on a pretty convincing show of happiness and she knew that Fleur and Jean were proud of her for picking herself up once more. Aimee had come to visit just afterwards, bringing flowers and fruit and had listened patiently to Eva’s tears and done her best to comfort her. She had even managed to avoid telling Eva that she was better off without the baby, and had assured her friend that there was nothing Eva had done to hurt the baby. If anyone was to blame it was those who had chased her through the streets of St. Peter Port, although Luc told them that it was probably something that would have happened anyhow.
Although Aimee had come to visit without her mother’s knowledge, she promised Eva that she would come again, and had been true to her word. She had come every week, and Eva had begun to look forward to her visits and the wide-ranging conversation they shared. It was good to have a friend again, someone to talk to about anything and everything, and as she watched a little bird pecking at the last of the seeds in the tall sunflowers that Jean had grown, Eva acknowledged that it was Aimee’s friendship that had been the biggest help in getting back on her feet again. Fleur and Jean had been wonderfully kind, but it was the knowledge that Aimee had been willing to risk upsetting her family and friends by visiting Eva that made Eva resolve to get a grip on herself and not just wallow in grief.
The war had finally ended with the Japanese surrender at the beginning of the month, and Eva was hopeful that Paul would soon be allowed to return to her. Some of the men from the Channel Islands who had joined the British Army were returning home, among them Aimee’s father, who had been on a ship in the North Sea for many months. Eva tried not to think about the idea that if Paul was not writing to her then he might not be coming back to her, pinning her hopes on him being released from prison and then coming straight back to the Channel Islands to find her. Perhaps there was a good reason for his silence, she told herself. Maybe he was kept so busy working that he was always too exhausted to write. Perhaps he was unable to get hold of writing paper and so could not write. There must be plenty of things that would mean he could not communicate with her, and she should not doubt him. After all, she was his wife and they loved one another. He would come back to Guernsey just as soon as he was able to.
“You look wistful,” said Aimee, appearing at the garden gate.
“Hello,” said Eva, getting to her feet and going to greet her friend.
“What’s the matter?”
“I was just thinking about Paul.” Eva had finally told Aimee about the wedding and Aimee had been convinced that Paul was not a vicious Nazi killer but a man of integrity who had just happened to be born to a German father. “I can’t think why he doesn’t write, Aimee.”
“I’m sure there’s a good reason,” said Aimee, following Eva into the house and sitting down at the kitchen table.
Eva made a pot of tea and they settled down for a good gossip. Eva had not dared to venture into St. Peter Port, still fearing what people might do to her, and Aimee kept her up to date with all the news about their friends. She heard that James had been released from the prison camp where he had been held and was back in Guernsey, thinner and older looking, and filled with a mixture of sadness and anger because of the dreadful things he had experienced. Although Eva could easily sympathise with him, she hoped she would not meet him, for she did not wish to be on the receiving end of any more anger. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that her future did not lie in the Guernsey and that she would be glad to leave the island that had become more of a prison than a haven for her.
#192:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 4:05 am
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Good for Aimee and poor Eva! I knew there wasn't really any hope for her little boy, but I was still hoping nonetheless. Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad
#193:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Aug 25, 2006 7:52 am
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Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad
#194:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Sat Aug 26, 2006 3:15 pm
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That's so sad about the baby Sad . Thanks, Becky.
#195:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sat Aug 26, 2006 4:03 pm
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After a very quiet and sad Christmas, filled with memories of those not with them, Eva decided that she could not stay in the Channel Islands any longer. She knew that she would have to think about whether to go to Austria or England, and that was proving a tough choice to make, but her mind was completely made up about leaving. It would be difficult to say goodbye to Jean and Fleur, who had been so good to her for so long, and to leave behind all the memories of Emile and Paul and the baby, but at least she would be able to live again if she moved away. She would no longer be confined to the house for fear of what might happen to her. She would be able to meet new people who would not judge her on account of her actions in the war. She would be able to start again with a clean slate. The idea was daunting, making a new life for herself with no one to help her, but it was exciting, too. She knew it would be difficult to tell Jean and Fleur of her decision, so she put that time off as she made her plans and went through her belongings to see what she wanted to take with her and what she would leave behind. She would take the bare minimum with her, for it would be so much easier to travel light, and she would leave her other things with Jean and Fleur until such time as she could come back and collect them.
By the New Year, Eva had still heard nothing from Paul. She had continued to write, although it was becoming more and more difficult to find things to tell him, and it was increasingly difficult to avoid mentioning her unhappiness at hearing nothing from him. She had started to wonder if it would be better if she could just accept that their relationship meant nothing to him and give up writing herself. Somehow she could not bring herself to do that, though, despite vowing with every letter she sent that it would be the last until she received one from him in return. And as she lay in bed on the last night of February, Eva decided that she would do the most sensible thing she could – she would go to England and visit the prisoner of war camp just outside Bridgwater, wherever that might be, and find out for herself where she stood with Paul. If he wanted to end things with her, he could jolly well do it to her face and not just leave her to figure it out for herself.
As March was a notoriously stormy month, Eva decided that she would leave Guernsey on the first of April and go by boat to England. She would then get a train to Bridgwater and find the camp and remain there until someone either took her to see Paul or told her where he had gone if he was no longer there. If he wanted to be with her, he would need to adequately explain his silence and she would find some job nearby so that she could see him. If he did not give her a good enough reason for not writing, she would go to London and look for another job, preferably one to do with animals. Even though the war had been long and costly, she knew that the English would still have pets and so would still need veterinarians to care for them, and those veterinarians would need assistants, such as herself. She had a little money and would use this to rent a little flat, and she would work hard and make a new life for herself. Pleased with her decisions, Eva fell asleep with the intention of getting up the next morning and telling Fleur and Jean of her plans and hoping that they would support her decision to leave Guernsey.
The next morning Eva broached the subject of leaving while they had breakfast. She was not surprised to see both Jean and Fleur look shocked to hear that she was thinking of leaving them, but once they had got over their surprise, Jean agreed that perhaps it would be better for Eva if she was to return to England.
“What about Paul?” asked Fleur. “How will he find you?”
“Perhaps he doesn’t want to,” said Eva quietly. “I’m going to try to face the fact that he might not be coming back.”
“He’ll be back,” said Jean with all the confidence that Eva had once had. “He’ll not leave you, Eva, he adores you.”
“He did,” she said with a little smile. “But it’s been so long, Papa. I think he’s forgotten me now.”
“Will you come and visit us?” asked Fleur, still looking upset at Eva’s news.
“Of course I will,” Eva assured her. “How could I not? You’re all the family I have left now.”
“We’ll miss you so much,” said Fleur emotionally.
“Dry up!” Jean told her bracingly. “She’s not going for another month. Plenty of time to weep then.”
Fleur gave her husband a stern look. “You make out that you are such a heartless creature,” she retorted. “You’ll be just as sad as me.”
“I never said I wouldn’t,” he pointed out. “But things change. Maybe she won’t go.”
“I will, Papa,” said Eva quietly. “I’m going to the prison camp first, just to see what he has to say for himself, and then I’m going to London.”
“If it doesn’t work out, you know you’ll always have a home here,” said Fleur, heading for the sink and discretely wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron.
“I know,” Eva said with a smile. Before she could say anything else, there was a frantic hammering at the front door. Fleur and Eva looked anxiously at each other, both wondering if the mob had come to drag Eva from the house and deal with her as they had wished to do the previous year. Giving herself a shake, Eva walked resolutely towards the door. “I’ll get it,” she said unnecessarily.
#196:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sat Aug 26, 2006 4:28 pm
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Paul will still want to be with her. Won't he?
#197:  Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner PostPosted: Sat Aug 26, 2006 4:57 pm
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Alison H wrote:
Paul will still want to be with her. Won't he?


I hope he will - I wonder if it's him who's hammering on the door. Rolling Eyes Do we have to wait till tomorrow to find out?
#198:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sun Aug 27, 2006 4:38 pm
    —
With her heart in her mouth, Eva opened the door just as Aimee raised her hand to knock again. Surprised to see her friend so early in the morning and banging so urgently on the door, Eva stood to one side and suggested that Aimee come in.
“What’s happened?” asked Fleur, looking anxious.
“This.” Aimee pulled a pile of letters from the big pocket of her jacket and held them out to Eva. “David’s cousin runs the post office. She was ill yesterday and David couldn’t help out, so he asked me to go instead. While I was there, I found these.”
Eva looked at the pile of letters, shocked to see that they were all from England and addressed to her. “They’re from Paul,” she said, sitting down with a bump on the bottom stair. “I thought he hadn’t written.”
“I didn’t tell David,” said Aimee, and she reached out and squeezed Eva’s shoulder. “But it’s wrong to interfere with the post, so I thought I’d bring them to you.”
“You’ll be in trouble when they know what you’ve done,” said Eva, sounding worried.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Aimee with a shrug. “I have to go, Mum will wonder what’s happened to me.”
“Thank you,” said Eva gratefully. She stood up and threw her arms around Aimee. “Thank you so much.”
Once Aimee had gone, Eva ran upstairs and threw herself down on the bed, looking in amazement at the pile of letters Aimee had brought. There were eighteen in all, dating back to June 1945, so she put them in order and then opened the first one. She read it through slowly, enjoying Paul’s descriptions of life in the prisoner of war camp and feeling a wave of warmth spread through her as she read his simple declaration of love at the end of the letter. She worked her way through the pile, sobbing as she read his reaction to the loss of the baby; he had been devastated he told her, but he urged her not to blame herself and to concentrate on getting well again and he promised that they would have other children. He still sounded sad in the next letters, but he admitted that he was comforted by the improving tone of her letters, and he was pleased that she sounded happier. Eva was relieved to think that he was actually receiving her letters, and she was thankful that no one had been intercepting them and hiding them as they had done to his letters. It must be hard enough to be kept in a foreign prison camp and made to labour on the nearby farm six days a week without worrying about whether your wife had forgotten all about you.
Once she reached the end of the pile, Eva fought down the urge to write straight back to Paul, knowing that Fleur and Jean would be wondering what he had said in his letters. She went downstairs, and found them in the kitchen and from the silence that greeted her arrival, Eva knew that they had been talking about her. With a smile she sat down beside Fleur. “He’s fine,” she told them happily. “He’s been writing all the time, and he’s definitely not forgotten about me.”
“So that means you won’t have to leave,” said Fleur, sounding pleased. “You know he’ll come back, you just have to wait for him.”
“That is why I’ll still have to leave,” said Eva quietly. “I can’t stay here where everyone’s against me, where they even interfere with my mail. I have to make a new life for myself, somewhere I won’t be judged on my choice of husband. It’s like being in prison myself here, unable to go anywhere or do anything for fear of being caught and punished as a collaborator.”
“You’re right,” said Jean after a moment’s consideration. “What kind of life can you have here? A less satisfying one than you deserve, that’s for sure. I hate to see you go, Eva, but I can understand that you need to and you certainly have my blessing. You just have to promise me that you won’t forget us.”
“As if I could!” Eva exclaimed, getting up and going over to throw her arms around Jean. “I’ll come and visit you as soon as I can, and I’ll write to you, too.”
“You’d better,” said Jean gruffly as he hugged her back.
Eva kissed him and then hugged Fleur, too. “I’m going to write to Paul now,” she said. “I won’t tell him I’m coming to visit him, though. It can be a surprise.” Feeling more lighthearted than she had for some time, Eva disappeared off upstairs again, and re-read the last couple of letters from Paul before beginning her own. She found it very difficult to avoid mentioning either the way her mail had been intercepted or her plan to come to England and find him, but otherwise she found her pen positively flying over the paper as she told him everything he had wondered about in his letters. With a smile she sprayed the letter with some of her favourite perfume and slid it into an envelope, which she carefully sealed before going back downstairs and pulling on her coat.
She set off to Torteval’s tiny post office on her bike, enjoying the rather stiff breeze that sent the clouds scudding across the sky. She posted the letter and bought a bar of chocolate, a most welcome treat, and then got on her bike again, heading home. She cycled along the lanes, moving over to the side of the road as she heard a car coming round the corner behind her. It seemed to take a long time to catch her up and when it did, the car did not actually go past her.
To her horror, Eva watched as the car slowed and moved closer and closer to her, until she was pushed off of the road and onto the grass verge. The bicycle wheels wobbled and Eva was thrown unceremoniously off into the hedge. The two young men in the car called a few insults out of the window at her and then drove off, evidently pleased with what they had accomplished. Eva got to her feet, aware of a furious anger blazing inside her. How did they dare to treat her in such a way, she wondered, and she thought for a moment about pedalling after them and trying to catch them up and give them a piece of her mind. The war was well and truly over and they had no right to keep on hounding her. She had been so lucky to escape unscathed, and her resolve to leave Guernsey was strengthened. If she stayed they really might succeed in hurting her as they had the baby.
When she got home, Eva told Jean and Fleur what had happened and Jean was all for calling the police and reporting the young men in the car. He was furious to think that Eva was being subjected to such attacks and that he could do nothing to stop them.
“They won’t listen,” Eva said with resignation. “They would probably wish those thugs better luck next time.”
“One good thing has come out of it,” said Fleur, putting a cup of tea down in front of Eva. “I finally understand that we’re just being selfish wanting you to stay here.”
#199:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Sun Aug 27, 2006 7:01 pm
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Hope things are better in England, but not sure they will be Sad .
#200:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 1:55 pm
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Oh, this is so sad Crying or Very sad

I hope that, somehow, Eva and Paul can be together and be happy soon.

Thanks, Becky
#201:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 1:57 pm
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I hope Eva can find happiness soon. Thanks, Becky.
#202:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 4:52 pm
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The end of this rather took me by surprise! Thanks for all your comments.

Over the next couple of weeks Eva got herself ready to leave the place that had been her home for more than five years. She was filled with a mixture of sadness, apprehension, excitement and relief at the thought of leaving, and by the end of March she was just about ready to go. Her passage had been booked and her two cases were ready. All that remained was to say goodbye to Aimee, Jean and Fleur and to head to the port in the taxi that was to come and collect her. The day dawned bright and clear, and Eva felt very nostalgic as she got up early and went downstairs to make breakfast for Jean and Fleur for the last time. She felt rather guilty about leaving, for she knew that Fleur’s niece who was going to come over a couple of times a week and give Fleur a hand around the house, was not a particularly hard-working girl, but she knew that she was right to be leaving.
Once the table was set, Eva made the coffee and fried up some bacon and eggs, wanting everything to be just perfect. She made a pile of toast and found an unopened jar of bramble jelly that she had hidden away at the back of the pantry ready for just such an occasion. By the time that Fleur and Jean appeared, the kitchen was filled with delicious aromas and Eva was wondering if she should call Aimee and see if her friend had overslept.
“This is lovely,” said Fleur appreciatively, sitting down and pouring herself a cup of coffee.
Eva put the cooked breakfast on the table in front of them. “I hope Aimee gets here soon,” she said, “Or her breakfast will be spoilt.” She put Aimee’s plate in the oven to keep it warm and sat down herself. “Have some toast,” she said, passing the plate down to Jean.
A quiet knock on the back door heralded the arrival of Aimee, her cheeks flushed from her early morning bike ride. “Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly, closing the door behind her. “This smells good,” she added after an appreciative sniff.
Eva passed Aimee her plate and unwrapped the piece of cheese that Aimee had brought as her offering for the meal. “I was worried that you’d slept in,” she said with a laugh.
“As if I would!” Aimee protested. “I can’t believe you’re really going, Eva.”
“Nor can I,” admitted Eva. She lavishly buttered her toast, wondering whether she would be able to afford such luxuries as butter once she reached England. She had some money, but did not want to fritter it away before she had had the chance to look for a job. “I’m going to miss you all so much,” she said, looking round the table. Jean and Fleur had been just as good to her as her own parents, accepting her unconditionally and caring for her through thick and thin and she would miss Jean’s down to earth good sense and Fleur’s emotional support. Aimee was more like a sister than a friend, someone she had laughed and cried with and who knew all of Eva’s deepest secrets. It would be strange to go from day to day without seeing these three people who had come to be so dear to her, who had taken the place of her family when she had been left all alone in the world.
“You will write, won’t you,” said Aimee with a sniff.
“Yes, of course I will,” promised Eva, her own eyes damp now.
“Let’s eat our breakfast before we get weepy,” said Jean firmly. “You girls can wail all you like once the food is all gone.”
They did as he suggested, eating their bacon and eggs and drinking their coffee, trying to make small talk instead of thinking about Eva’s rapidly approaching departure. Finally, when no one could manage another slice of toast or cup of coffee, they cleared the table and Eva ran upstairs to get her cases and her coat. Aimee followed her, imagining that Eva would have more luggage than the two small cases and her handbag.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” said Aimee, flinging her arms around Eva.
“I’ll miss you, too,” Eva replied, hugging her friend back.
“I hope you find him and that you’ll be happy together,” said Aimee tearfully.
“Thank you.” Eva held her for a moment longer then they pulled apart and picked up a case each, carrying them down to the hall. Fleur and Jean came out of the kitchen, and Fleur was weeping openly even before Eva enveloped her in a big bear hug. They heard a car pull up outside, so Eva reluctantly released Fleur and turned to Jean. “Goodbye, Papa,” she said, throwing her arms around Jean.
“Take care, girlie,” he said gruffly, pressing an envelope into her hands. “Look after yourself.”
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, kissing his cheek. As they heard a knock at the front door, Eva released Jean and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Taking a deep breath she opened the front door, but it was not the taxi driver waiting outside. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed and Paul stepped forward to catch her, fearing that she was about to faint.
“Hello Eva,” he said as he enfolded her in his arms.

Last edited by Fatima on Fri Sep 08, 2006 5:20 pm; edited 1 time in total
#203:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 5:13 pm
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Hurrah!

Thanks, Becky Very Happy
#204:  Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 6:14 pm
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Thanks for a happy ending!
#205:  Author: ali, Location: medway, kent PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 7:10 pm
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Alison H wrote

Quote:
Thanks for a happy ending!


It can't be the ending, but glad about Pauls return.
#206:  Author: Sarah_L, Location: Leeds PostPosted: Mon Aug 28, 2006 7:53 pm
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This can't be the end. We need to know what Eva and Paul do next. Smile
#207:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 2:35 am
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*also glad to see them reunited*

But -- we need to see them happily established!
Perhaps this could turn into an epic the length of Gill's?
*smiles sweetly*
#208:  Author: pim, Location: Hemel Hempstead PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 9:25 am
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Kathy_S wrote:
Perhaps this could turn into an epic the length of Gill's?


*thinks this is an excellent idea*

*looks innocent*

But thank you for the lovely happy ending Very Happy
#209:  Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 1:10 pm
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Huzzah!

Pretty please for a sequel Becky? Wink
#210:  Author: leahbelle, Location: Kilmarnock PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 3:09 pm
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Glad for the happy ending, but would also love a sequel! Have really enjoyed this. Thanks, Becky.
#211:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 5:17 pm
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Thanks, Becky. I've just read this from the start - I'm sorry I got so behind. I'm really glad that they were reunited in the end. Please can we have a sequel?
#212:  Author: janetbrown23, Location: Colchester PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 6:07 pm
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You really really can't leave it there you know............starts a chant

Jan
#213:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Tue Aug 29, 2006 10:24 pm
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Having read this almost from the beginning this wasn't too bad a cliff to be left on Very Happy


thanks so much Becky
#214:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Wed Aug 30, 2006 5:14 pm
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Hurray - Paul came back for her.

There must be a sequel...
The CBB -> Ste Therese's House


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