by Deborah Carr
“I told you he was a business man,” she said reading through the rest of her dad’s email. “He’ll want to make money out of it as soon as possible.” She skimmed through the words. “He wants me to find a management company to look after the place for us if we do rent it.”
“It’s a shame. Let’s get out and take these photos for him.” Tom said as he downed his coffee.
“Do you think we should put it on the market soon, then?”
He shook his head and stood up. “No, but it’ll buy you time while you work out what to do next.”
She liked his way of thinking. “Good plan.” she said, as she followed him outside, carrying her coffee mug with her.
Tom stepped out of the way when necessary to give Gemma a clear view of the cobbles, doorway, or unpainted wall that she was attempting to capture on her phone.
“Pick up that broom,” she said, pointing for Tom to stand in the barn.
“Why?”
She could see he wasn’t sure if she was joking, or not.
“It’ll give more perspective to the room, so that we can see how large it is.”
He frowned and then did as she said. “Do I get paid extra for my modelling?”
She shook her head, glad that she would have a photo of him to keep, if she did have to move soon. “No, I thought you’d be happy to give your time for free as it’s Sunday.”
Tom threw his head back in laughter. “That is the weirdest argument I’ve heard for a long time. He picked up the broom and posed for her. “Like this?”
“That’s right. Now, lean on the broom with your elbow and smile at the camera.” He did as she instructed. Gemma knew she’d remember today, with or without the photos in her phone.
Chapter 13
Alice
October 1916
Alice stood on the freezing deck of the ship. Pulling her hat down further over her ears, she took deep breaths in an attempt to dispel the nausea caused by the rough sea. Her shoulders hunched against the biting cold, she held the front of her winter coat tight with one hand, pushing the other into her pocket. She was in desperate need of a cup of hot tea and a warm bath. She wasn’t a good sailor at the best of times and this journey had been the worst one she could ever recall taking. It seemed to be lasting forever.
She spotted the familiar sight of Noirmont, with its openness and lush greenery above the cliff face, and her mood lifted. Until now, all she could think of was how heart-breaking it had been to leave Ed behind. Now with the coast of Jersey up ahead, she felt a little comforted. She had missed this place.
The trip hadn’t been too bad between Calais and Dover, probably Alice thought because she had been concentrating on looking after the two patients she was accompanying. It had been a relief to hand them over to waiting nursing staff at Victoria and be able to catch her train to Southampton.
Her feet ached. She was used to spending hours each day on them, but for some reason the tiredness seeped into her bones. Maybe it was the concern for her mother playing on her mind, she thought, or the sadness she felt from saying an unexpected goodbye to Ed.
She had booked a carriage for the overnight crossing, but it was cramped, and she found it difficult to sleep. She stifled a yawn and straightened her hat, not wanting to arrive at the docks looking unkempt. Her mother was already irritated with her for not agreeing to return home earlier, she didn’t need to upset her further by making a show of herself.
The wait for the ship to be tied up was interminable. Alice shivered as she paced back and forth, desperately trying to build up a little body heat, willing the dockers to hurry up.
She peered across the New North Quay and waved to one of her father’s oldest friends, a master stevedore called Edward Troy. She could see him talking to someone standing with his back to her. Alice leaned forward over the railings but couldn’t see if it was her father. She hoped he was waiting for her with his horse and trap. The wind was making her eyes weep, but that was preferable to feeling queasy. She heard the thud of the passenger ramp as it connected with the boat. Lifting her case, Alice slowly made her way towards the exit with the rest of the eager passengers.
“Miss,” one of the dockers shouted to her. “There’s a gentleman over there. I think he’s trying to attract your attention.”
Alice looked over to where the man was pointing and saw her father. She smiled for the first time that day.
“Thank you,” she said, hurrying as quickly as she could to get off the boat.
Reaching their family horse, Phantom, Alice stroked his silky chestnut neck.
“Hand that valise here, dear,” her father said, reaching down to take Alice’s case from her hand. He placed it behind him and patted the leather seat. “Climb up next to me, so we can get you home. It’s bitter out here today.”
Alice did as he said, grateful to be away from the boat and almost back at the family farm.
“Here, put this over your legs,” he said, covering her lower half with a thick plaid blanket. He smiled at her fondly and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s good to have you back home, Alice. We’ve missed you very much.”
“It’s good to be home, Father,” she said. “I didn’t realise how much I’d missed this place until today,” she added, honestly. “I’ve been so busy at the CCS that I’ve barely had a chance to think of anything much apart from my work.”
“That’s how it should be,” he said patting her leg. “We’re very proud of you, your mother and I. Very proud indeed.” He raised the reins, “Come on Phantom, time to go.”
The horse slowly wended its way through the crowds of people walking on the quay, breaking into a trot as soon as they reached the road.
“How is Mother?” she asked, hoping her suspicions had been correct and there was little wrong with her apart from some attention seeking.
He hesitated briefly. “I have to admit I believed her to be putting on an act initially.”
Alice tried not to panic. “You mean, she really is unwell?” she asked guiltily.
“I think so, yes.” He glanced at Alice giving her a comforting smile. “Not terribly ill. Not enough for you to concern yourself unnecessarily, my love, but we’ve sent your sister to stay with her friend’s family in St Peter, to give your mother peace to recover.”
Alice was sad to hear her sister wouldn’t be at home, but it was good to know that her mother wasn’t as bad as she had dreaded her being. “I’m glad Mother is not dangerously ill.” She sat back and enjoyed breathing in the familiar salty air as the horse trotted along the waterfront to the avenue towards their home near St Aubin.
She couldn’t help willing the weather to be better in the morning. Now she was home, she couldn’t wait to see something of her beloved island in the sunshine. It was how she always pictured the place when she was in France. She recalled one of the patients saying how all the soldiers lived on memories when they were away, and he was right. Alice smiled to herself, thinking how funny it was that whenever she thought of Jersey it was always sunny. She never pictured it raining, or cold and windy like it was today.
They waved to several friends on their way home and forty minutes later Phantom trotted into the spotless yard at the farm. Alice stepped down from the trap.
“You go inside and warm up,” he said. “Your mother will be waiting. I’ll settle Phantom and bring your case in soon.” He lowered his voice. “I think she’ll be looking forward to having a little time alone with you.”
Alice forced a smile on her face. Happy for the opportunity to get warm after such a long overnight journey, she almost ran inside.
“Hello, Miss,” said Jeanette, the youngest daughter of neighbouring farming family. She beamed at Alice, hand outstretched to take her coat.
“I didn’t realise you worked for my parents, Jeanette?” Alice said, pleased to see the cheerful girl, her rosy cheeks shining. She knew that the girl’s family struggled financially. They were one of the poorer families in the Parish and Jeanette was t
he youngest of twelve children, and her parents would no doubt be delighted to have Jeanette helping her family by working for her parents. “It’s good to see you,” she added. “Will I find my mother in the drawing room?”
“Yes, Miss,” she said. She waited for Alice to remove her hat and gloves and then carried them along the hallway to hang them up in the cloakroom. “She’s been unwell this past fortnight.”
“So, I gather,” Alice said.
“Madam said I must bring in tea and the fruit cake my mother baked for her as soon as you arrive.”
Alice’s eyes lit up. “I love your mother’s fruit cake,” she said honestly. “What a perfect welcome. I can’t think of anything I’d rather eat right now. Thank you.”
She went to the drawing room door, patted her hair in place, and smoothing down her skirts, took a deep breath before walking in. “Mother,” she said, a little taken aback by how much weight her mother had lost. “I’m so sorry you’ve been unwell.”
Her mother gave a little cough, delicately holding up a lace handkerchief to her mouth as if to make a point. “I’ll be much improved now that you are here to keep me company.” She indicated the chair facing hers. “Sit there, next to the fire. That dear girl, Jeanette has been a godsend since you left. She works hard to keep up with everything. Did I mention in my letters that we lost Mrs Le Brun?”
Alice nodded. “Yes, I was sorry to hear about her bereavements.”
“Two boys, dead.” She shook her head. “And only her daughter left. It’s too cruel, that’s what it is.” She gave a sob. “I always wanted a son, as you know, but after all the dreadful news coming from this war, well, I’m relieved I don’t have to worry about my son being sent to be killed.”
Alice leant forward and took her mother’s hand in hers. “I was thinking how relieved I was not to have a brother to fret over.”
Jeanette knocked before entering the room carrying a tray. It looked heavy, but Alice didn’t want her mother to think she might not need Jeanette now she was back at home. The poor girl needed this job. She was going to have to ensure her mother understood that she would be returning to France in just under a fortnight. Alice cleared several novels to the side of the table, to enable Jeanette to lower the tray.
“Thank you, Jeanette,” her mother said. “By all means, fetch another plate. Alice will cut you a slice to take and eat in the scullery. You must be due for a break by now.”
Alice couldn’t help smiling at the skinny girl’s delight as she almost ran out of the living room. “That was kind of you, Mother,” she said. Her mother must be fond of the girl to be so pleasant towards her, she thought happily.
“She’s been a dear. She works terribly hard and I can’t help liking her.”
Jeanette returned seconds later, placing the spare plate next to the tray. “Thank you, Madam,” she said, bobbing slightly.
Alice cut her mother a piece of cake and poured her a cup of tea. “Please pass these to my mother for me.”
While Jeanette did as she asked, Alice cut the girl a thick slice of the moist cake and handed the plate to her. “Here you are.”
Jeanette did her usual bob and left.
Pouring herself a cup of tea and cutting her own slice of cake, Alice went back to sit next to the fire. “Why does she bob like that?”
“I think it’s a form of curtsy,” her mother said between mouthfuls. “I keep meaning to tell her that it’s not necessary, but every time she does it I worry that I might embarrass her by correcting her.”
Alice could see what her mother meant. “Would you like me to have a quiet word with her?”
“Oh, yes, please, Alice. Would you?”
Alice could feel her hands and feet slowly warming up. The tea and cake had done masses to restore her energy levels and it was heavenly to sit in a comfortable chair for once. After she had tidied her their crockery away to the tray, Alice sat back.
“It is good to be home,” she admitted. “I almost don’t remember what it’s like to be sitting somewhere this pleasant.”
Her mother studied her for a while and then said, “Tell me all about your work. Have you made friends there?”
Alice was aware that her mother was fishing but didn’t mind. It was good to speak without having to watch who might be listening in on the conversation. As she spoke she pushed away thoughts of Ed lying in his hospital bed and how close they had become since he had kissed her.
“Are you still cold?” her mother frowned.
“No, not at all,” Alice reassured her. “I was just thinking about the patients. There are many dramas each day and night. I think I’ll take a few days to fully understand that I’m back here and not on call for emergencies.”
“Why don’t you tell me all about it,” her mother suggested. Alice was surprised at her mother’s interest in her work, but did as she asked, leaving out any mention of Ed.
Initially Alice was happy to dutifully accompany her mother to visit relatives and neighbours, but the novelty of having little to do soon wore off. Her initial misgivings about her mother’s health passed. She couldn’t miss how spritely her mother was when they were out socialising and how good her appetite seemed to be. She also looked as if she was rapidly gaining weight. She suspected her mother had simply not eaten for a few weeks to persuade others that she was unwell.
“How has my mother’s appetite been while I was away?” she asked Jeanette one morning before her mother joined her for breakfast.
“The madam was off her food for some weeks,” Jeanette said, setting places at the dining room table ready for them to eat their breakfast. “I don’t know what caused it, but she suddenly went off her food and took to her bed. It made me worry terribly, it did. I even asked my Ma what she thought I ought to do.”
It had been as Alice had presumed. She listened to Jeanette’s concerns determined to reassure her. “I don’t think we need to worry now though, do you?”
Jeanette stared at her before moving along to the next place setting on the table. “Are you certain, miss?”
“Yes,” Alice said, angry that her mother’s selfishness had upset the young girl.
“I was worried she’d need someone to nurse her and that I might be dismissed.”
Anger increasing, Alice shook her head, desperate to console the troubled maid. “No, you mustn’t think that,” she said. “Whatever happens here, I’m sure my parents will need you working for them, probably for years, or until you marry.”
Jeanette giggled at the mention of marriage and turned her back on Alice briefly. Facing her once more, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “Do you think I’ll be wed then?”
Alice had always liked Jeanette and pitied her life at the same time. Now, all she saw was a young girl who until working for Alice’s parents had very little in her life. She obviously had not been encouraged to think that she should hope for much in her future.
“Yes. You’re a hardworking, kind girl,” Alice said, truthfully. “Is there anyone you’ve noticed?”
“Well,” Jeanette looked down at the floor. “There is one boy—”
Several days later, Alice gave in to her mother’s insistence and lacking any excuses not to, accompanied her into St Helier. They walked along King Street and Queen Street and Alice wondered if, despite her mother’s annoyance at her working as a VAD, that maybe she was secretly proud of her. Each time they met one of her acquaintances, she insisted Alice told them a little about her work at the casualty clearing station.
They stopped at the Central Market to collect several jars of jam her mother had ordered. Then, after dropping in to see a friend of her mother’s who lived on Hill Street, strolled towards Weighbridge near to the docks where they had arranged to be collected by her father.
Alice spotted a group of men working near the docks. “Who are they?” she asked her mother pointing discretely at them.
“They’ll be German prisoners of war,” she whispered, putting her gloved hand up near her mouth.
“They bring them here early each day from Les Blanches Banques camp in St Ouen’s bay. I don’t like to think of them being here.”
Alice doubted they enjoyed being kept on the island, either. She imagined Ed being captured and wondered if he would be treated fairly. She peaked from under the rim of her felt hat. They looked thin, but relatively healthy. She wondered how many of them were being held down at the camp below the sand dunes in her favourite bay. She thought back to the many times she’d accompanied her father down to the beach on the road the locals knew as the Five Mile Road, sitting next to her father on the cart pulled by Phantom. She’d paddled in the warm sea, looking for tiny crabs in the rockpools while her father and his farmhands harvested the seaweed ready to be spread on his Jersey Royal potato crop.
She spotted her father waving them over and linking her arm through her mother’s they each carried a basket in their free hands as they hurried to join him.
“You two have been busy by the looks of it,” her father laughed. “Here, let me take those from you.” He smiled as he took the baskets and lifted them onto the trap.
Alice took her mother’s right hand and assisted her up onto the leather seat. Once she was settled, Alice climbed onto the back of the trap, sitting on one of the cushioned side seats. She moved the baskets placing them between the back of her parent’s seat and her legs, so that they didn’t move about and fall over on the ride home. The horse moved on and when they were out of earshot from anyone Alice decided it was safe to ask her father a few questions about the prisoners.
“How many of them are kept at the prison camp, Father?”
“I’ve heard that it’s about 2,000,” he said. “Your mother frets about them escaping.” He winked at his wife over his shoulder.
“Oh, stop teasing me,” her mother grumbled. “You know how much the thought troubles me.”
It worried Alice now that her father had brought it to her attention. “Have any of them escaped then?”
He laughed. “No. A few have tried, or so I’ve heard, but no escapees yet.”