Page 70 of Tides of Resistance
‘That’s true enough,’ Pops said. ‘We are allowed the use of our small vegetable plot at the back, and some firewood.’
On closer inspection, Lizzie saw her grandparents had aged considerably since she’d seen them last. Their faces were heavily lined and gaunt, and they were both achingly thin.
Pops limped when he walked, and Lizzie asked what had happened to him.
Nan interjected. ‘He told the Nazis what he thought of them when they came to requisition Seagrove and permitted us to leave with only our personal items. They took ownership of the house and all its contents. A soldier whacked his ankle with the barrel of his gun.’
‘It’s nothing,’ Pops said, sipping the cup of tea Nan put in front of him. ‘It’ll heal in no time. Will take more than the Jerries to slow me down.’
Lizzie covered the mottled skin of his hand with her own, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again, but she held herself together. Time was against them, and she didn’t want to waste the precious moments they had together crying.
They talked for hours, huddled around the kitchen table as Lizzie told them what had happened with the family in London and St. Malo. The joy on their faces when they heard they were all alive and well was palpable.
It was almost 1 a.m. when Lizzie said they had better get to bed. ‘It won’t do to alert anyone to a change in behaviour, and it’s already very late.’
While Nan made up a makeshift bed for Lizzie on the sofa in the small sitting room, she said, ‘I’ll get you a nightie and a change of clothes for tomorrow, my love.’
Lizzie questioned her with a yawn. ‘What’s wrong with my clothes?’
‘You smell like the fish market! Anyone a mile off would guess you came in on a fishing boat.’
Lizzie giggled at her Nan’s expression, and a warm feeling permeated her chest. Her grandparents were living under occupation, and physically they weren’t at their best, but their spirit had not been broken.
When Nan brought Lizzie some of her old clothes to choose from, she almost broke down again with the wave of sentimentality that rushed over her.
‘They let us bring clothes, so I brought some of everyone’s just in case. I didn’t imagine for one minute you’d be here in the flesh to wear them so soon!’
Lizzie changed into an old nightdress, and Nan and Pops kissed her goodnight and retired to bed. Lizzie snuggled on the sofa under the embroidered eiderdown she remembered so well from Seagrove, and drifted off to sleep, her dreams dominated by a black raven watching over her.
Her small knife was hidden beneath the cushion she slept on.
CHAPTER 40
Early the following morning after a cup of tea and a quick bite, Lizzie prepared to part from her grandparents, with no details of why she had come, other than she couldn’t bear not to see them when she was so close.
They hadn’t commented on the reason for her visit to St. Malo until Pops said, ‘You are your father’s daughter, that’s for sure.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘You don’t think he would have been called urgently to London when war broke out if he wasn’t a critical piece of Britain’s intelligence machine, do you?’
Lizzie’s eyes widened as she slipped her coat on and stood next to the door. ‘I suppose not.’
The thought that her father was more involved in the intelligence aspects of the war was a disturbing one she hadn’t considered, but she filed it away for future reference because there was no time to think about it now.
‘We are proud of you, my love,’ Pops said, giving her one last firm hug. ‘Just be careful, please. These bastards have no mercy, but I imagine you know that and have your cover story.’
Nan embraced Lizzie as if she might never let her go. ‘Give our love to everyone and tell them not to worry about us. We are tough as old boots.’
Lizzie laughed softly, the swell of emotion threatening to undo her just when she needed an iron resolve to complete the next step of her mission.
Tearfully, she untangled herself from the loving arms of her dear grandparents, telling them she must leave the island but when the Allies liberated Jersey, she would be home as soon as humanly possible.
The flicker of hope in Nan’s eyes as Lizzie talked of liberation as though it were a certainty, tore at Lizzie’s already fragile state.
‘Remember to get word to us you are safe, please,’ Nan whispered.
She had told them a friend would get a coded message to them somehow through his fishing network.
