An Island at War

by Deborah Carr

  An Island at War

  Deborah Carr

  One More Chapter

  a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

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  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2021

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  Copyright © Deborah Carr 2021

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  Cover design by Lucy Bennett © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2021

  Cover photographs: © Rekha Arcangel/Arcangel Images (woman), © Jacqueline Moore/Arcangel Images (girl), Shutterstock.com (background images)

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  Deborah Carr asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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  A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

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  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

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  Source ISBN: 9780008436308

  Ebook Edition © June 2021 ISBN: 9780008436292

  Version: 2021-06-18

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Estelle

  2. Estelle

  3. Estelle

  4. Rosie

  5. Estelle

  6. Estelle

  7. Estelle

  8. Rosie

  9. Estelle

  10. Estelle

  11. Estelle

  12. Estelle

  13. Rosie

  14. Estelle

  15. Rosie

  16. Estelle

  17. Estelle

  18. Rosie

  19. Estelle

  20. Estelle

  21. Estelle

  22. Rosie

  23. Estelle

  24. Estelle

  25. Rosie

  26. Estelle

  27. Rosie

  28. Estelle

  29. Estelle

  30. Estelle

  31. Estelle

  32. Rosie

  33. Estelle

  34. Estelle

  35. Estelle

  36. Rosie

  37. Estelle

  38. Rosie

  39. Estelle

  40. Estelle

  41. Estelle

  42. Rosie

  43. Estelle

  44. Rosie

  45. Estelle

  46. Estelle

  47. Rosie

  48. Estelle

  49. Estelle

  A Note from the Author

  Photographs from the Author’s Archive: Part 1

  Photographs from the Author’s Archive: Part 2

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading…

  You will also love…

  About the Author

  Also by Deborah Carr

  One More Chapter...

  About the Publisher

  To all the Channel Islanders who lived through the Occupation years and especially to those here in Jersey

  War Cabinet decision is that the Island of Jersey is to be demilitarised. Further instructions regarding the Governor will follow.

  The Channel Islands will not, repeat, not be defended against external invasion by sea or air.

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  Official communications received by The Lieutenant Governor of Jersey, Major General Harrison on 19th of June 1940

  Prologue

  28 June 1940

  Philippe Le Maistre flinched as he heard a distant boom. It sounded closer than the recent bombs the Germans had been dropping on St Malo. He checked that the rope holding the wooden boxes filled with his recently dug Jersey Royal potatoes was still secure. It was a warm evening and he had been queuing on the Albert Quay for several hours and was now fifth in line to unload his precious cargo. He couldn’t help thinking about the exhausted Canadian soldiers he had helped rescue from St Malo on his friend’s boat a couple of weeks before. They had been traumatised by the speed at which the Germans had forced them from Dunkirk cornering them in the walled town with only the sea as their escape.

  ‘They are unstoppable,’ a young Lieutenant insisted as he was helped aboard the boat, close to tears. ‘Save your family while you still have a chance.’

  The sound of plane engines disturbed his thoughts. He looked up towards Mount Bingham, shading his eyes against the bright sunlight. Phillippe’s mouth dried as he noticed the black crosses on the underside of the wings. What did they want this time?

  ‘It’s a bloody Heinkel!’ he heard Chas Vatel bellow. ‘No, two of them. Hell, there’s three of the buggers. What are the Jerries doing now? Don’t they know St Malo’s that way?’ He waved his hands towards the Channel.

  Philippe’s heart pounded in shock. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the approaching planes. He willed them to be doing reconnaissance, as others had done in the preceding weeks. These were flying very low though. He guessed they were no more than two hundred feet above where he was standing.

  Philippe gasped to see something small and dark drop on Mount Bingham. The dull thud of the bomb as it landed was immediately followed by aloud crash as two further bombs smashed into houses on the large hill, sending masonry spilling down on to the nearby road. The men cast their eyes in the direction of the explosions. Then two more fell on Fort Regent, the Napoleonic fortress with its commanding position high over the harbours below. ‘B-Bombs!’ he shouted, the sound of his voice obliterated by more loud ear-splitting booms. ‘Everyone get down, now!’

  A bomb exploded on the old harbour less than a mile away sending sharp pieces of granite a hundred feet into the air. Others hit small boats, setting them on fire shooting debris and plumes of thick black smoke high into the St Helier sky. Philippe ducked, his trembling hands covering his head.

  ‘Blimey, that was close!’ Chas shouted. ‘You all right, Philippe, mate?’

  Philippe nodded, unable to speak.

  He stared as flames leapt up through the hole in the wood store in Commercial Buildings on the quay. Is this what we have to look forward to? he wondered, barely able to take in what he’d just witnessed. Thank God his dear wife Marie hadn’t lived long enough to have to face this nightmare.

  Philippe took a deep breath trying to compose himself. It wouldn’t do to let himself down in front of others. He studied the row of trucks in front and behind him. None of the other thirty or so men seemed to be moving, so he would have to stay and hope that the dockers unloaded his truck soon.

  He walked around the front of his truck and pulled open the door. He had a flask of tea in there, maybe it would help calm him. He lifted it to go and offer some to those nearest to him, when the sound of the plane engines increased.

  ‘They’re coming back!’ Chas bellowed.

  Everyone followed the familiar sound of the bombers and Philippe noticed to his horror that they were racing towards them across St Aubin’s Bay, landing a direct hit on the row of granite buildings lining the road next to the old harbour.

  Within seconds, the Heinkels opened fire on the lined-up lorries and men as th
ey flew the length of the Albert Pier towards the town. Bullets strafed the parked vehicles, their drivers and dockers open targets with no possible chance of escape.

  Shards of granite exploded from the promenade wall running alongside them, piercing the men’s flesh as they ran for cover.

  Acrid smoke-filled Philippe’s nostrils. He didn’t like his odds. He tried to ignore the screams from injured men along the pier. Then, covering his mouth with the lapel of his jacket, Philippe took a deep breath and ran as fast as he could towards the closest crane leg, where others were sheltering.

  Just before he reached them, a searing pain pierced his side and back as several bullets hit their target. Philippe knew that this was it. The Nazis were here. They were invading his beloved island. The girls. His precious daughters. Who would protect his eldest daughter Estelle now? If only he had sent her to England with little Rosie and not insisted she stay on the island to help on the farm. He had let them down. His last promise to his beloved Marie had been to protect their babies, and he had failed her.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he whispered, as everything went black.

  One

  Estelle

  Five Days Before

  Estelle held her little sister’s hand tightly in one hand, her small cardboard case in the other as the crowds jostled pushing to board the SS Shepperton Ferry. She hated being parted from Rosie, but the thought of her sister staying and having to face the Germans if they did invade like everyone expected was far more terrifying.

  ‘I’m scared, Essie.’

  Estelle stared down at the large brown eyes that reminded her so much of their beautiful mum. Only she had been lucky enough to know Mum’s love. She coughed to clear her throat and push away the memory of the day twelve years ago when her sister was born. Estelle had been barely seven, but Dad had needed her to be strong and help look after her new baby sister, while he and her grandmother made arrangements for the funeral. She had welcomed having someone to cuddle during those heart-breaking weeks after her mum’s unexpected death. She could barely remember a time when Rosie had not been around following her everywhere since then.

  ‘Don’t be,’ Estelle said. ‘You’ve got to be strong. We all do. Anyway, you’ll be safer staying at Aunt Muriel’s in London. She’ll take care of you.’

  Since her mother’s death, Gran had been Rosie’s mother figure and now Estelle knew that however difficult it might be for her to ensure Rosie was evacuated to the mainland, it was something that she needed to do.

  ‘But I don’t remember her. Do you?’

  ‘You must do, she was only here a few years ago. Don’t you remember going swimming with her at Havre des Pas bathing pool? She treated us to one of Smith’s ice creams that day, too. You know, the boy on the bicycle with the cooler on the front?’

  Rosie shook her head, her usually smiling mouth sulky. ‘I don’t want to go away, I want to stay here with you, Gran and Daddy.’

  ‘I know you do.’

  ‘I wish you were coming with me,’ Rosie added her chin beginning to wobble.

  ‘So do I.’ Estelle lowered the case to the ground and gave her sister a tight hug. ‘I’ll tell you what, when this is all over we’ll plan a family holiday somewhere.’

  ‘Do you promise?’

  ‘Yes… but you know I need to stay here with Dad and Gran to help them at the farm until that time comes.’ She needed to distract Rosie somehow. ‘Now, where’s your gas mask?’

  Rosie pointed to her shoulder indicating the string attached to the box hanging slightly behind her back.

  ‘Good. You mustn’t lose it.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she mumbled. ‘Is Aunt Muriel nice?’

  ‘Very, and she’s great fun, too.’ Estelle pictured her mother’s sister. They looked so similar, although their lives had been very different. Her mother had come to live in Jersey when she married their dad whereas Muriel enjoyed a more glamorous life as a manager in a smart clothes shop in London. ‘Look, don’t worry. You’ll remember her when you see her again. I know you will.’

  ‘But why is Daddy making me go? I promised him I’d help more if he let me stay at home.’

  Estelle’s heart ached to hear her sister voicing her own thoughts. ‘He wants you to be safe. You’ve heard the sound of bombing from St Malo, haven’t you?’ Rosie nodded miserably. ‘And I heard Dad speaking with Gran about some of the things the Canadian soldiers told him they’d witnessed after he helped rescue them.’

  ‘You mean those men he saved who had escaped from Dunkirk?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Quite a few of them managed to get as far as St Malo, but there was nowhere else for them to go once they’d got that far.’

  ‘And he doesn’t want that to happen to us?’

  Estelle sighed. ‘No, and I think he worries about us being stuck here if the Germans come and the same thing happens.’

  Rosie’s hand squeezed hers a little tighter. ‘I hope it won’t.’

  So did she. Part of her wished she was going with Rosie, but she was nineteen now and needed at home. Her sister was going to have to find a way to cope without her.

  Estelle spotted one of her old school friends. It made her feel a little better to know that someone she knew well was also being evacuated to England. Estelle opened her mouth to call to her.

  ‘Janine!’ she shouted, relieved when the girl turned and after scanning over the heads of the others in the crowd saw her. Estelle picked up Rosie’s case. ‘Come on, Rosie,’ she said, pulling her sister passed the hot, sweaty bodies pressed against each other waiting to board. She ignored Rosie’s grumblings and kept going until she reached her friend. ‘Are you going to England on this boat?’

  ‘Yes,’ Janine said, somehow looking cool and not as stressed as the rest of them. ‘I’d rather stay here and take my chances, but my Mum has arranged for me to stay with a cousin for the duration in Southampton. Hopefully, it won’t be for too long. You?’

  ‘I’ve got to stay here,’ Estelle said thinking of her plans to enrol in art college. She had wanted to be a dress designer for as long as she could remember ever since falling in love with films at the pictures. She couldn’t see that happening any time soon. Not now. ‘My little sister Rosie’s going. You remember Rosie, don’t you?’

  Janine’s eyes followed the line of Estelle’s arm until she saw Rosie. ‘Ah, there you are, Rosie. I didn’t see you standing there behind your sister. Don’t look so worried, it’ll be fine. You’ll see. Think of it as an adventure.’

  Rosie mumbled something Estelle couldn’t hear over the anxious voices around them.

  ‘Rosie’s travelling alone?’

  Estelle explained that Rosie was supposed to have gone to her school to meet up with her teachers and schoolfriends. ‘I think she was hoping that if we came straight here she could persuade me to give in and either go with her, or let her come home to the farm with me.’

  ‘I don’t like Mrs Gilcrest,’ Rosie grumbled. ‘And I don’t want to go all the way to England with her. Anyway, I’m sure it wouldn’t be so bad if Estelle let me stay here.’

  Estelle pulled a face at Janine. ‘As you can see, it’s been a bit of a battle this morning.’ She turned her attention to her sister. ‘We’ve been through this, Rosie.’ She was finding it difficult to keep her emotions in check. It was painful enough parting from her sister for the first time, especially when she didn’t know how long it would be for, but this was almost too much for her.

  She usually gave in to Rosie, but this time she had no choice and had to remain firm. She reached out and brushed Rosie’s messy fringe away from her warm forehead. ‘You know Dad was the one who decided this and he’s only doing it because he wants you to be safe. We must do what he asks. Sometimes we have to do the right thing, even if we’d rather not.’

  Rosie didn’t look convinced. ‘But surely, if it’s dangerous for me to remain here, then you should be coming with me?’

  Estelle closed her eyes, trying to contain her fru
stration. ‘You know he needs my help on the farm with all the boys away fighting. Now, please stop making such a fuss, it won’t change anything, only make this harder for us both.’

  Janine rested a hand on Estelle’s shoulder. ‘Has Rosie got someone to stay with when she gets to Weymouth?’

  ‘Our Aunt Muriel. She’s going to meet her off the boat and take her back to her flat in London.’

  ‘Well, then, I’ll take care of Rosie while we’re on the ferry.’ Janine bent so her face was level with Rosie’s. ‘Would that be all right with you?’

  Rosie looked from Janine to Estelle and after a moment’s thought shrugged. ‘Yes, if you like.’

  It was a success, of sorts. Estelle’s shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘Thank you.’