Page 46 of The Island Girls

‘All I really set out to do was protect you, Peggy. I just found a few interesting titbits of information along the way. And Ithink the attention you’ve been giving him has distracted him to the point he’s not noticed that I’m keeping an eye on him. But there’s definitely something fishy about this pair.’

‘Darrell, I really think you’re being a bit extreme. Everything will look more natural in the daylight tomorrow,’ she said, trying to appease him.

Darrell stared at her hard for a few moments before seeming to make a decision. ‘Come on, then, it’s time I was getting you home to your parents. They’ll have wondered what happened to you,’ Darrell said as he took her hand. The air between them was cold as frost, though, and Peggy ached to be able to tell him the truth.

They walked home in the peace of the moonlight, hopeful that it was to be a quiet night, with no air raids. The weather was soft and warm, the night was clear, and a million stars sparkled above them. Peggy chose to forget, for this precious moment, the troubles of the war and this strange double life she had begun to live.

At the front door, Peggy kissed Darrell and held him close, mustering all her energy to try and appear calm, all the time knowing that she had to take control and work out what Charlie was up to.

‘So, you’re spending your days with him, and kissing me goodnight now? What will your Charlie think of that, hey? You’re going to have to choose, Peggy. You can’t keep us both hanging on,’ he said, shuffling his feet in the gravel as he looked down.

‘Darrell, I don’t know what you mean. I’ll see you again soon,’ she said, keeping her voice calm and even despite the turmoil she felt inside. Hopefully, it would only be a couple of days before she could explain everything to him. Darrell left to go back to the RAF base, and she went inside, closing the door slowly behind her.

She went through to the kitchen and sat quietly at the table, knowing her family were already upstairs in bed. She stayed as still as one of the bollards on Poole Quay for ten whole minutes, listening to the sound of her own breathing and giving Darrell plenty of time to get up to the lifting bridge and over it to Hamworthy before she set off. Then she crept out the back door, through the garden, and along the beach until she made it onto the road in front of the lifeboat house. She kept her head down as she walked quickly along the quay, thankful that the pubs had all closed for the night and most people were at home by now.

When she reached the Fish Shambles market, she ducked quickly into the end of Blue Boar Lane, checking over her shoulder that nobody had seen her. She found Mrs Rogers’ home, and then, looking up at the one upstairs window facing the street, took a punt that it would be Charlie’s. If not, she would have to think fast to find some reason she might have for getting Aunty Joan out of bed.

Peggy picked a couple of small pebbles from the ground and threw one at the window. When there was no response, she threw the second. A moment later, the window opened to reveal the puzzled face of Charlie Edwards. She held her finger firmly to her lips before he could speak and signalled to him to come downstairs.

As he opened the front door, hastily pulling his jacket on, Peggy looked from one end of the lane to the other and decided the back way would be safest from prying eyes. She did not speak, and would not permit him to do so until she had led him well away.

‘Peggy, what on earth is going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?’ he asked, full of concern.

‘No, Charlie, I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.’ She turned to face him fully, looking him square in the eye and takinga deep breath before she fired her first shot. ‘Had any more conversations in Dutch lately?’

He visibly reeled and now it was Charlie who looked furtively over his shoulder. Seeing that they were still alone, he took her elbow and guided her along the lanes until they reached the church yard. They sheltered on the dark side of the church, not that there was ever really a light side in this blackout. The only sound at this midnight hour was a nightingale that chirruped prettily from one of the chestnut trees in the church yard. Peggy turned to face Charlie and spoke under her breath.

‘Who are you, Charlie? And who the hell is Klaus?’ she demanded.

He sighed deeply and, rubbing his face with his hands, he slid down the wall and crouched on the ground. Peggy sat beside him.

‘I am Charlie now, Peggy. This is who I want to be. But Charlie is not who I was. My name is Hans Meyers, and I am Dutch. I came from Rotterdam. My wife, Katrijn, and baby girl, Anika, were killed by a German bombing raid that butchered them and all of the beautiful city, and I fled here, to Poole, as a refugee,’ he explained. ‘This injury to my leg, it is not from my childhood. The damage was done in the same air raid that killed my family.’

‘But, you said you’d come from London. And when you speak to me, you don’t sound Dutch at all,’ she said.

‘I did come from London just before I met you. I was here in Poole, at first on Brownsea Island and then in the town for a few weeks after I arrived. But I could not get work. Everyone thought I was German here, and people were unkind. So, I left and went to London where I could get lost in the crowds. I learnt to speak like a Londoner, and I found work in the docks there. But it is not a friendly place, and I was lonely. I wanted to be here, by the sea, where I feel more at home, and where I left my boat.’

‘And Klaus? Is he a friend of yours?’ she demanded.

‘No! I barely know the man, and he is not good news, Peggy. He hitched a ride with me when we fled Rotterdam, and I don’t trust him. He’s trying to blackmail me to give him information about flying boat passengers, but I won’t do it,’ Charlie said.

‘Blackmail you? What with? What does he have on you?’

‘I can’t tell you – it’s nothing really – something personal. It doesn’t matter to anyone but me,’ he said.

‘And where is Klaus now? If he is causing some kind of trouble, then we need to get him picked up. Is he Dutch? Or is he German?’ she asked.

Charlie shrugged his shoulders slightly a pulled a face. ‘He’s Dutch. Like me,’ he said at length.

They sat in silence for several minutes while Peggy decided what to do.

‘I have to report you for not being who you say you are, Charlie, but I believe you. I believe you aren’t a threat. But this Klaus – him we must find and have arrested. Do you have any idea where he is?’

In reply, Charlie simply shook his head.

Peggy sighed deeply. ‘The best thing we can both do now is go and get some sleep. We’ll deal with all this in the morning. Come on, help me up,’ she said reaching up her hand to him as he stood.

They walked back to Blue Boar Lane in companionable silence.

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