by Rosie Clarke
‘Yes, let’s.’ Maggie smiled at her. ‘I’m looking forward to the dancing and the laughter – they’re all so friendly and warm to us. It’s like being with a big family, Sadie.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Sadie agreed. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said, Maggie, and I’m going to ask Marie if she will let me stay with her once I’m forced to leave nursing – until the baby is born anyway.’
‘You know she will,’ Maggie said and squeezed her hand. ‘I can visit you sometimes and then we’ll make plans – because we’re not going to lose touch when we go home, are we?’
‘No, never,’ Sadie urged. ‘We’ll always be friends, Maggie. I love you as much as any of my sisters – no, more. They wouldn’t have understood the way you have…’
Maggie put a finger to her lips. ‘No more worrying tonight. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.’
They left the hut smiling at each other and waved to the young soldier who was taking half a dozen of them to Marie’s farm in his truck. He gave them a cheery greeting and helped them in the back, jumping back in the driving seat and setting off with a joke about not drinking too much.
All the nurses were giggling and laughing, talking about the young men they’d promised to meet at the dance that evening, which would be held out in the orchard behind the farm. As they approached, they could smell something cooking, and there were lights strung in the trees, little lanterns twinkling like big glow worms. After the blood sweat and tears of the hospitals, this was so peaceful and lovely that it touched their hearts.
Girls and men piled out of a couple of vehicles; their laughter sweet on the perfumed night air. Marie was there to greet them all and to welcome them to the party. A tall man dressed in the clothes of a French farmer in his Sunday best stood by her side. As they approached, Maggie felt a jolt of recognition and warning bells jangled in her head; she felt a prickling sensation at her neck and something told her to be careful.
‘Ah, ma cherie, Nurse Maggie Gibbs, and ma petite Sadie,’ Marie said. ‘This is Marcel Robards, my cousin from Rouen. He comes to help with the wine harvesting. He has the bad chest so he cannot fight with the Army.’
‘Monsieur Robards,’ Maggie greeted the man she knew so well from Harpers as she would a stranger, taking his hand politely and smiling. She felt his strong grip and knew he appreciated her response. ‘I am pleased to meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay with Marie.’
‘I believe I shall,’ he replied, his eyes dancing with amusement in the way she knew so well. ‘My family sells wine to your country, Mademoiselle Gibbs, but I wish to learn how to make it.’
‘I think it must be interesting work,’ Maggie said. ‘I do not know much about wine, except that I like it sweet – but I would like to learn too.’
‘Then perhaps we shall talk of it later…’ Marco smiled at her and turned to Sadie. ‘Mademoiselle, may I welcome you to my cousin’s home – perhaps you will dance with me after supper?’
Sadie looked at him for a moment and then nodded. ‘Yeah, why not,’ she said. ‘You look harmless enough to me.’
‘Sadie…’ Maggie dug her in the ribs as they moved off. ‘That wasn’t very polite.’
‘I’ve had enough of charming Frenchmen,’ Sadie said. ‘I’m not falling for that again.’
Maggie smothered a giggle. She didn’t think that Sadie need worry about this particular Frenchman, but she couldn’t say anything. There had to be a reason why Mr Marco was pretending to be Marie’s cousin from Rouen and she wasn’t going to give him away by saying something careless.
‘That roast sucking pig smells good,’ Sadie said. ‘Shall we see if they’re serving it yet? I’m hungry.’
Maggie agreed and went with her. A long table set with a white cloth was piled with fresh bread, cheese and ripe tomatoes, some fresh sliced peppers, relishes and plates full with cold chicken and ham. The pig was just being carved and they were given a slice; it was hot and nearly burned their fingers and their tongues, but the smell was so delicious that they couldn’t wait to bite into it, laughing at each other as the grease ran down their chins.
‘May I be of assistance?’ Maggie turned as Mick O’Sullivan offered her a white linen napkin. She laughed and took it, using it and then passing it to Sadie, who needed it even more. ‘That looks delicious, but I think I’ll stick to the bread and cheese.’
‘It’s a real feast,’ Maggie said as she walked with him to the table, leaving Sadie to talk to Marie. ‘That cheese is delicious – I’ve had it before. So much nicer than we get at the hospital.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ he said and smiled. ‘I think French cheese is always rather good; it’s why we try to serve it in our restaurants.’
‘Oh yes, you own some, don’t you?’ Maggie said, looking at him with interest. ‘Mrs Harper was speaking about them once to Mrs Burrows.’
‘Yes, I own shares in three,’ Mick told her. ‘If things go well after the war, I hope to open more.’
‘I’m sure they will,’ Maggie encouraged. ‘Sally says she loves eating at your restaurants because the food is so good.’
‘You and your friend must come and try us when you go home,’ Mick replied, smiling. ‘The first time will be free for you both.’
‘Oh, that’s lovely. We might take you up on that – if Sadie comes home. I’m not sure what she will do yet.’ Her eyes went to Sadie, who was talking seriously to Marie. She guessed she was asking if she could stay with her to give birth. Suddenly, Marie gave a little shout of pleasure and flung her arms around Sadie, hugging her and kissing her on both cheeks. ‘Oh, good.’
‘What?’ Mick asked, looking amused. ‘Our hostess is pleased about something…’
‘Sadie has told her she wants to have Pierre’s baby here,’ Maggie said in a soft voice. ‘We’ve been keeping it secret, but Marie will tell everyone.’
Marie’s pleasure was evident and she was pulling Sadie by the arm, telling all her friends and neighbours the wonderful news. Sadie looked embarrassed and yet pleased in an odd sort of way.
Marie clapped her hands suddenly and then announced in French that Sadie was carrying the child of her cousin Pierre. It went over the heads of the English soldiers and nurses, none of whom spoke French sufficiently to understand, though one or two got the gist and Maggie saw some sly smiles. Sadie’s secret was out now and would probably find its way back to Matron, but at least Sadie had somewhere to come if she was dismissed.
Marie’s neighbours and friends were clapping and surrounding Sadie, kissing her and hugging her. It seemed not to matter to them that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring; she was carrying the child of a man who was considered a hero and that was enough for everyone who had known him.
Mick suggested that he and Maggie should dance as the violin started a merry tune. Maggie went with him to dance under the trees. She noticed that Marco went over to speak to Sadie and that he kissed her cheek and she took his hands and held them for a moment. Maggie was curious, but she was enjoying herself dancing with Mick and it was not until he went off to fetch them a cooling drink that Sadie came up to her.
‘Marie is over the moon, as you saw,’ Sadie told her with a smile. ‘She says I can stay forever if I choose – and Pierre’s sister says that she will give me things to keep that were his, as well as money. They are all so kind…’ Tears came to her eyes. ‘I’ve been thinking, Maggie, perhaps I could stay here and keep the child – at least for a time…’
‘I’m so glad,’ Maggie said and squeezed her hand.
‘They are all so kind – and they said it doesn’t matter that we were not married,’ Sadie said, looking thoughtful. ‘They say Pierre loved me and he would have married me had he lived, because he was an honourable man…’ Tears glistened. ‘I just wish he was here, Maggie.’
‘Of course, you do,’ Maggie said. ‘But he loved you and you have his baby to love. I don’t think you could really give it up, Sadie.’
‘Perhaps…’ She brushed a hand over her eyes.
‘I wanted to nurse, but perhaps I might find a new life here with Marie and Pierre’s family.’
‘I saw you talking to Marcel Robards,’ Maggie said casually. ‘What did he have to say to you?’
‘He told me that Pierre was a brave man, that he admired him – and that if I needed anything, I was to ask him. He said that if I needed a home or money, he would help me.’
Maggie nodded and smiled, saying that it was nice of him. She wondered how the man she knew as Marco knew Pierre so well but kept her thoughts to herself. It was obvious that Sadie would be cared for by Pierre’s friends and relatives and that made Maggie feel much better. It gave her hope for the future where she’d had none for Sadie and that made her smile.
‘You look happy?’ Mick said when he came back with their drinks.
Maggie looked at him for a moment and then smiled. ‘Do you know, I am,’ she said. ‘I really feel happy for the first time in… months.’
Mick reached for her hand, giving her a brief squeeze. ‘I’m so glad,’ he said. ‘And your friend – what about her?’
‘Sadie has good friends now,’ Maggie said. ‘I don’t know what she will decide to do, but she has a choice. She won’t be forced back to the slums as she feared and I hope she will keep her baby.’
‘Oh no, she couldn’t go back to the slums,’ Mick agreed instantly. ‘We couldn’t allow that, Maggie. Whatever else happens, I’d never let that happen to a friend of yours.’
Maggie was surprised, but then she smiled. ‘You are a nice man, Captain O’Sullivan.’
‘Yes, I am rather,’ Mick said and his eyes twinkled at her. ‘I’m very glad you know that, Miss Gibbs.’
Maggie poked him in the ribs. ‘Come on, you tease,’ she said. ‘The night is young and I want to dance with you all night.’
37
It was another two days before Marco found Maggie as she was making her way to the canteen for a well-earned break. She smiled at him as he approached and waited for him to speak.
‘Where can we speak in private?’ Marco asked.
‘We could go to the hut I share with Sadie – she is on duty, so we’ll be quite alone.’
‘And do you trust me – after the other night?’
‘Of course, I do, sir,’ Maggie said. ‘You’re a friend and I know there must be a good reason for…’ She left the rest unsaid and he smiled his approval.
‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘I always thought you a bright sensible girl and you’ve confirmed my opinion.’ He smiled at her. ‘No need for formality here, we’re not at Harpers.’
Maggie smiled and nodded. ‘I still think of you that way, Mr Marco.’
He nodded and said no more on the subject.
When they were alone in the hut, Maggie indicated he should sit on their only chair while she perched on her bed. ‘I have some sherry if…’ He shook his head. ‘Perhaps you should just tell me – what you are able to tell me, but please don’t feel you need to explain.’
‘I really wanted to thank you for not blowing my cover, Maggie – and to tell you that, though I cannot explain, I’m not doing anything you would think unpatriotic or wrong.’
‘I knew that anyway,’ Maggie replied with a smile. ‘I did what any sensible person would do, sir – and I must say that I rather like your name.’
‘You haven’t told your friend the truth?’
‘No, and I shan’t. I imagine the fewer people that know, the better?’
‘What a true friend you are, Maggie Gibbs,’ he said. ‘Thank you – and I wanted to tell you that if there is anything I can do, for you or your friend, you have only to ask.’ She saw a look of sadness pass over his face. ‘I knew Pierre quite well, you see – and he died helping me, so I feel I owe her whatever she asks of me…’
‘I know that Pierre was a brave man. Marie told us he died while working in secret for his country. Sadie is angry with him because of it, but she knows in her heart that men have to take risks in wartime.’
‘Yes, we do and so do brave women like you and Sadie. You’re very close to the front line here and if things went wrong… but we shall not speak of that unless it happens.’
‘We live with it every day, Marcel,’ Maggie replied, giving him the name she knew he was using. She did not doubt that he was doing important secret work and since she knew and liked him, she trusted him completely. ‘We see the men who have been hurt and are dying; it is an ever-present threat, but we ignore it. We have to…’
‘As I said, you are brave women, all of you – and I admire you more than I can say.’
‘Thank you – but I think you are in more danger, Marcel. Rest assured that I shall never betray you to anyone.’
‘I knew that – but I wanted you to understand how dangerous it could be for you as well as me,’ he said and she nodded, because she realised that in certain circumstances association with a spy could spell danger.
‘You must go,’ Maggie said. ‘It wouldn’t do for you to be here too long – and if anyone asks, I shall say you called with a message from Marie. Now you should go. You offered us your help – but if there is anything at all I can do to help you, you must tell me.’
He shook his head. ‘Enough innocent folk are at risk now. I should not dream of involving you,’ Marco replied and smiled at her. ‘I shall go – but thank you and take care of yourself, Maggie Gibbs.’
‘And you,’ she said. ‘I am glad to have seen you. I often think of Harpers’ people and wonder how they are…’
‘As do I, Maggie. They were good days. I hope they will come again.’
Maggie saw his grave look and felt a chill at her nape. He must be in terrible danger!
‘I do hope so!’
‘We may meet again at Marie’s, but I shall not come here. It should be safe, but there are spies and collaborators everywhere…’
Maggie nodded and he hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She sat where she was and let him go. She’d always liked him and had instinctively known what he was doing, but now she felt an icy shiver at her nape. He was taking such a risk, because spies could be shot and that was surely what he was – a British spy.
Maggie shook her head, because it hardly seemed real that Mr Marco – funny, gentle Mr Marco who teased the girls and dressed Harpers’ windows so artistically – was here risking his life – for what? Maggie had no idea, but it was obviously important or he wouldn’t have thanked her for not blurting out his secret.
Sighing, she got to her feet. It was time she went back to work. Maggie had been told she would be sent home soon and given two weeks’ leave, but Sister Mayhew had told Matron that she wanted her back and so she would return here to this hospital and the men who needed help so desperately.
Marco glanced over his shoulder twice, but he was pretty certain he had not been followed. He was safe enough at Marie’s and here at the hospital it was unlikely he would see anyone he’d known while working in the Fallen Angel. It was when he returned to Pont le-Neuve, to make contact with Jacques and some of the others, that he would be most at risk. Marie had sent a message to Pierre’s home that she had a pig for sale and she hoped that might bring someone she could entrust with a message.
‘It would be better if we could arrange a more secret rendezvous for you,’ she’d told him.
Marie had taken to him and fussed over him as if he were one of her own. Marco had confessed his guilty regret over Pierre’s death and she’d embraced him wholeheartedly.
‘My cousin gave his life for France,’ she’d declared. ‘He believed that what you had done might bring the German advance to a halt and protect us from further invasion and he would have given his life twice over for that.’ Tears stood in her eyes. ‘They came through our villages and towns like a cloud of locusts, but your country drove them back to where they are now and it is British lives that protect us daily.’
‘British, Canadian, French and others,’ Marco had qualified with a smile. ‘Britain is a small country and we nee
d our Allies – but fortunately we have many friends who have stood by us.’
Marie had nodded and wiped her cheeks. ‘No more tears for Pierre – he has a child and that child will be brought into the world here. If the girl Pierre loved will stay here, she will become as a daughter to me, but it must be her choice – she is very sad, the poor little one.’
‘Yes, of course she is – and frightened of the future I dare say.’
‘We shall take care of her and the little one,’ Marie had said. ‘It will be a blessing to Pierre’s family. When she understands this, she may learn to smile again…’ Marie shook her head. ‘For now, she laughs, but her eyes do not smile. She will learn in time that she is loved and then she can be happy again.’
‘Perhaps she fears the shame of giving birth to a child when she is unmarried…’
‘Pouff.’ Marie had snapped her fingers. ‘We French do not care for such things. We rejoice in new life and she will give us back a part of our beloved Pierre, so we care not if she wears a ring on her finger.’
‘You are a good woman, Marie,’ Marco had told her and she’d chuckled, a warm ripe chuckle that had made him grin.
‘And you are a brave man, Marcel. I am proud to know you…’
The wine treading was in full swing as Marco entered the farmyard. Women of all ages, children, and youths were in the wooden vats rhythmically treading the rich black fruit into a pulp which would one day become a full-bodied red wine.
Marie was in one of the vats and she waved to him. He walked towards her and began to roll up his trousers, thinking she wanted him to join in the work, but she leaned over the side and whispered in his ear.
‘Jacques sent word,’ she said. ‘You are to meet this evening – I will come. Lift me out and we shall have wine and bread.’
Marco helped her climb out of the vat and she wiped the red stain from her legs, pushing her feet into a pair of wooden shoes before leading the way into the kitchen. She produced a jug of the rough red wine they made themselves, before it was taken to the vinery to be mixed with other ingredients and blended to a softer finer wine, some soft white cheese and fresh bread baked that morning in her own oven.