by Lily Baxter
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m not a patient man and I tire of the games you play. Meet me tonight at eight o’clock, by the lake.’
‘You’re mad.’ Meg’s stomach contracted with fear. ‘Why would I want to have anything to do with you?’
‘Captain Weiss is no longer here to protect you, Fräulein. Either you do as I say or I tell the major that David Colivet is really Gerald LeFevre. As you know, I could have done that some time ago, but I enjoy seeing you both suffer.’
‘I won’t do it.’
‘You have no choice. I was instrumental in sending Captain Weiss to the Russian front. Think what I might do for Herr LeFevre. Eight o’clock.’ Nordhausen strolled away with his hands clasped behind his back.
Meg wished she had a weapon – a gun, anything. At this moment she could have committed murder in cold blood and not turned a hair.
After a meagre supper that barely satisfied her hunger, Meg sat on the window seat in the parlour staring out into the garden. All day Nordhausen’s words had haunted her but she was no nearer to finding a solution to her problem. His intentions were perfectly clear, as was the threat to Gerald. If Nordhausen denounced him it would be a death sentence. She glanced around the room. Whatever she decided would inevitably have consequences for her family. They knew nothing of the turmoil within her or the choice that she was being forced to make. Maud sat at the table, darning one of Pip’s socks. She had to hold the work close to her eyes as her sight had deteriorated, and she was in desperate need of new spectacles. Bertrand and Charles dozed in armchairs on either side of the fireplace, their chins resting on their chests and soft snores emanating from each one in turn. Gerald was in the kitchen helping his mother with the dishes and Jane had taken Jeremy upstairs to put him to bed in the cot that was now permanently in her room. Pip was off somewhere, probably listening to his crystal set.
‘Care for a walk, Meg?’
She turned her head with a start. She had not realised that Gerald had returned and was standing at her side. ‘Sorry. I was miles away.’
‘Obviously. I’ve asked you the same question twice.’
‘What did you want to know?’
‘I asked you if you wanted to go for a walk before curfew. It’s a lovely evening.’
She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see that it was almost eight o’clock. ‘No. I mean, no thanks. I’ve just remembered I’ve got things to do.’ She leapt to her feet and hurried from the room.
Gerald followed her. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me. I know you too well, Meg. You can’t hide anything from me.’
‘It’s my problem, not yours. I’ve got to do this on my own.’
‘What have you got to do?’ He grabbed her by the arm.
‘Let me go. It’s none of your business.’
‘If you won’t tell me then I’m coming with you.’
‘Please don’t.’
‘It’s Nordhausen, isn’t it? He’s been bothering you again?’
‘I can handle him.’
‘If you think that then you’re a simpleton. He’s ten times worse than Grulich. What has he said to you?’
‘Leave me alone.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
‘Do as you please.’ Meg shook off his restraining hand and hurried through the maze of passages to the kitchen, ignoring Marie’s demand to know where they were going. Gerald was close behind her but she waited until they were out in the stable yard before turning to face him. ‘Go back in the house. I’m begging you not to ask me any questions, just do as I ask and let me sort this thing out my way.’
He stared at her, his expressive eyes filled with anxiety. ‘I can’t let you do this, Meg. If you’re going to meet Nordhausen at least let me go with you.’
‘No. You’ve got to trust me. I know what I’m doing. If you insist on following me you’ll put us all in danger.’ She could see that this last desperate plea had struck home. She turned her back on him holding up her hand as she walked resolutely onwards. She dared not look over her shoulder, but she sensed that he was standing where she had left him, staring after her. She could feel his eyes on her back but she squared her shoulders and hurried on towards the lake.
The aquamarine sky was bruised with crimson and black as the sun plunged like a fireball towards the horizon. The sound of voices and laughter coming from the soldiers’ quarters faded into the distance as she approached the ruins of the summerhouse. A faint smell of cigarette smoke was the only sign that Nordhausen was somewhere near and he stepped out from behind a clump of budding hydrangeas. His face was hidden in shadow and Meg felt a frisson of fear run down her spine, but she held her head high.
‘You’re late.’ Nordhausen’s voice cracked with ill-concealed excitement. ‘Come here.’
Meg held her ground. ‘No. I came to tell you that I’m not going to play your game.’
‘What is this?’
‘I’m not a servant girl or a whore. If you persist in propositioning me then I’ll have no alternative but to go straight to Hauptmann Dressler.’
‘Do you think he’ll listen to you? He knows that you have already consorted with one of his officers.’ Nordhausen came towards her, swaggering and arrogant.
She wanted to run away but she forced herself to face him. ‘Hauptmann Dressler disapproves of his officers fraternising with local women, but he would be even more furious if he knew you were forcing your attentions on me.’
‘I will tell him that Gerald LeFevre is a British soldier who should have given himself up years ago. He will be shot and the rest of you will be deported to a labour camp. I don’t think your father would survive very long in those conditions, do you?’
Meg opened her mouth to retaliate but Nordhausen seized her in his arms and clamped his mouth over hers. She struggled, but her strength was no match for his. He swept her off her feet, carrying her towards the bushes, but at that moment a figure appeared as if from nowhere and all three of them were sent crashing to the ground. Winded and gasping, Meg rolled away from the flailing arms and legs as Gerald fought with Nordhausen. He managed to land several punches on Nordhausen’s jaw, but it was painfully obvious to Meg that Gerald’s strength had been sapped by hard work and malnutrition, and the fight was unequal. With a swift movement Nordhausen gained the advantage and pinned Gerald down. He drew his service revolver from its holster.
Hauptmann Dressler sat behind his desk grim-faced as he listened to Nordhausen’s account of what had happened that evening. He interrogated Meg and Gerald but it was obvious that nothing they could say was going to make the slightest bit of difference to the outcome. Major von Eschenberg was sent to fetch Charles, and, one by one, the rest of the family were brought into the room and questioned. Finally, after an hour of continuous interrogation, Dressler leaned his elbows on the desk.
‘Since you are all obviously in this together, you must receive the same punishment. Captain Nordhausen has proved to me that you have harboured a British soldier when you should have reported his presence to the authorities, and that you all conspired to conceal his identity. Herr Colivet, you said that this man was your son. Do you deny this?’ Dressler stared, stony-eyed, at Charles.
Charles raised himself from the chair that Major von Eschenberg had provided. His breathing was laboured and his skin had taken on a blue tinge as he fought to catch his breath. ‘Hauptmann Dressler, I take full responsibility for what has happened in my household but Captain Nordhausen is only partly correct in his accusations.’
‘Explain that statement, if you please.’
‘This young man is not David Colivet, but he is my son and I can prove it.’
There was a stunned silence. Meg clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry of shock and disbelief. She stared at her father, wondering if he had gone mad. His illness must have affected his brain for him to utter such an obvious lie. If Gerald was her half-brother – suddenly she felt sick with shame. She turned her head
to look at Marie for confirmation that Pa was lying, but Marie had buried her face in her hands and was sobbing convulsively.
Dressler leaned forward, staring at Charles over the top of his steel-rimmed spectacles. ‘You are telling me that this young man is not Gerald LeFevre?’
‘He was brought up as Gerald LeFevre but I have his birth certificate in my possession. If you will permit me to get the document from my study it will prove that he is Gerald Colivet.’
Dressler nodded. ‘Very well.’
Charles stood up slowly and hobbled from the room. Meg sat with her hands clenched tightly on her lap. Every muscle in her body was tensed as if for flight. She closed her eyes, unable to meet the curious stares from Maud, Bertrand and Jane. Pip muttered beneath his breath and giggled. No one told him to be quiet.
Agonising minutes passed until Charles returned clutching a document, which he handed to Hauptmann Dressler.
Dressler rearranged his spectacles and studied its contents. ‘It would appear that this is a genuine birth certificate, Herr Colivet. You will tell everyone here in this room why you kept this man’s identity a secret.’
‘No.’ Marie lifted her head, her face pale and streaked with tears. ‘No, please.’
Dressler leaned across the desk. ‘You will speak, Herr Colivet. We are all most interested to hear your story.’
Charles held himself upright, looking directly at Meg. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear. This is not the way I wanted you to hear this sad tale of your father’s selfishness and self-deception. Nor you, Gerald, this is not how I wished the truth to come out.’
‘Herr Colivet, spare us the apologies, they are of no interest to anyone except you.’ Dressler waved his hand impatiently. ‘You realise, I am sure, that more than your own life is at stake here.’
Charles sat down suddenly as if his legs had given way beneath him and he nodded his head. ‘The fault is all mine.’
‘Leave him alone, can’t you?’ Meg leapt to her feet and moved swiftly to his side. She flung herself down on her knees, wrapping her arms around him. ‘Can’t you see he’s a sick man?’
Dressler leaned across his desk, frowning. ‘If you can’t be silent I will have you removed from this room.’
‘It’s all right, Meg.’ Charles patted her hand. ‘I never meant to hurt you, or your mother or anyone. It was a long time ago. I was a young man and I fell in love.’
Marie’s loud sobs echoed around the room.
‘I fell in love,’ Charles repeated, raising his voice. ‘Marie Ozanne came to work as a kitchen maid here, in my father’s house. She was little more than a schoolgirl then, and I was an up and coming barrister in the family law practice. My engagement to Muriel Brehaut was a long-standing arrangement between our families, and there was no honourable way out.’ He turned to Meg with tears in his eyes. ‘Your mother was and always has been a much better wife than I deserve, Meg. But I was desperately in love with Marie, and to my everlasting shame I allowed passion to override common sense and caution. We became lovers, even though I was much older than she, and soon to be married. Gerald, you were born a few months before David. If I had recognised you as my son then it would have ruined my career. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’
Gerald shook his head, saying nothing. Everyone was silent, even Dressler.
Charles cleared his throat. ‘I can never undo the damage I’ve done to you or to your mother, Gerald. I’ve tried to look after you both in my own way. I saw to it that you had a good education and I arranged for you to train as an articled clerk in London. There is not much else I can add, except to apologise to my family and most of all to Marie. I hope she will forgive me for my cavalier treatment of her and our son, and I hope my children will try to understand, if they can.’
Gerald looked up, his face pale and drained of emotion. ‘Eric LeFevre, the man I’ve always thought of as my father? Did he know?’
‘He did, and it’s true that I encouraged him to marry your mother because I knew that he loved her as much as I did and he was a good man. He loved you like a son, I know that.’
‘You mean you paid him to marry my mother?’
‘Money changed hands, but it was to ensure that you and your family had a good home and to pay for your education.’
‘Enough of this.’ Dressler lifted his hand for silence. ‘I’m not interested in your recriminations or excuses. Herr Colivet, you utter tired old clichés that have been used as an excuse for a young man’s irresponsible behaviour since time began. I find it very amusing, but boring. This hearing is at an end and you, Gerald Colivet, are under arrest. You may be the illegitimate son of Herr Colivet but you are still a British soldier and as such you should be in a prisoner of war camp. Major von Eschenberg, ensure that he is kept under lock and key until I can arrange for his deportation.’
Meg stood up, resting her hand on her father’s shoulder. ‘That’s your idea of a fair trial, is it?’
Dressler glared at her, his eyes narrowed. ‘I could have you all deported to camps in Germany and I’m still considering this action.’
Meg held her breath as Gerald was led away. He looked neither to left nor right but Nordhausen shot a look of triumph in her direction, as if to underline the fact that he had won. She dropped her gaze and waited her turn as the family shuffled out of the room. As they emerged into the hallway Charles was seized by a fit of coughing. Marie hooked his arm around her shoulders. ‘You must rest,’ she said gently. ‘You should be in bed, Charles.’
Jane rushed forward and spat in Marie’s face. ‘Slut!’
Charles’ eyes blazed with anger as he rounded on her. ‘That’s rich coming from you, Jane Colivet.’
She took a step backwards. ‘I meant …’
‘It seems like yesterday that you came to me weeping about your condition and the fiancé who abandoned you when he discovered that you were pregnant,’ Charles said, eyeing her coldly.
She gasped and her hands flew to her face. ‘That’s cruel, uncle.’
‘I’ve helped support you and your son for over twenty years. Don’t you dare speak to Marie like that again, or judge us when you are just as culpable.’
‘I was seduced, abandoned and betrayed.’ Jane’s voice broke on a sob. ‘You carried on with a servant and still are as far as we know.’
‘That’s not true.’ Marie faced her angrily. ‘You’d best keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak to Charles. He’s the kindest, sweetest man who ever lived and you’re an ungrateful bitch.’
‘Go and look after your son, Jane,’ Charles said, lowering his voice. ‘We’ve just lost ours. God knows what will happen to him now.’
Meg felt as though she were watching a dramatic scene in a play. Nothing was real and she seemed to have lost the power of speech and the ability to move as the shocking truth sank into her brain. She turned her head as Nordhausen strode into the hall through the open front door.
‘That’s the last you will see of your dear brother, Fräulein Meg. What a pity.’
Suddenly she knew exactly what she had to do. She pushed past him and burst into the drawing room. ‘Hauptmann Dressler, I wish to make a formal complaint against Captain Nordhausen.’
*
Despite Meg’s angry outpourings to Dressler and von Eschenberg, Nordhausen was not sent away as she had so recklessly demanded, but he was detailed off to duties that took him away from the manor all day. He chose to ignore her if their paths happened to cross and she could only surmise that he had been warned to stay away from her. Nevertheless, his continued presence made her feel uncomfortable.
After the shocking revelation by Charles and the admission of his illicit affair with Marie, a cloud seemed to envelop the whole family. Charles took to his bed, and Marie devoted every spare moment to caring for him. When she was not in the sick room she went about her work silently, pale and wraithlike, refusing to talk about the grief and shame that were obviously gnawing away inside her.
Meg could not bring h
erself to go and see her father. She tried in vain to convince herself that he was still the same person she had always adored and hero-worshipped, but she struggled to equate her vision of him with that of the unfaithful husband who had lived a lie for so long. She wondered if he realised the extent of the distress that his duplicity had caused her and Gerald, and for once her sympathies were with her mother. They had never achieved a loving mother-daughter relationship, but now she could understand the reason for her mother’s attitude to Marie. Meg wondered how she had managed to live with her husband’s past infidelity all these years, let alone having his onetime mistress there as a daily reminder of their affair. So many things fell into place. It explained why Gerald had never been welcomed into the house by her mother, and her father’s stubborn championing of him. Meg’s opinion of her mother had changed to one of admiration and awe.
Added to all this Meg was worried about what would happen to Gerald. Now that she understood their relationship she realised that what she had felt for him all along was sisterly affection. Her cheeks burned with shame as she recalled the ardour of his kisses that had been anything but brotherly, but eventually common sense forced her to push guilt to the back of her mind. Their blood relationship had been kept from them deliberately; what had happened afterwards was not their fault and Gerald was paying a high price for his love of the Colivets. Meg knew she had to do something to save him, but what? That was the question that tormented her day and night.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘How absolutely appalling!’ Pearl’s eyes widened in horror. ‘And you mean to say you were in love with your own brother?’
‘Half-brother.’ Meg pushed her cup of ersatz coffee away from her in disgust. ‘And I wasn’t in love with him; it was the other way round.’