P. S. Kit is delivering this in the hope of getting some pie. Can you keep her for the afternoon?

From Juliet to Sophie 24th July 1946 July 1946

Dear Sophie,

You should probably burn this letter as well as the last one. I've refused Mark finally and irrevocably, and my elation is indecent If I were a properly brought-up young lady, I'd draw the curtains and brood, but I can't I'm free! free! Today I bounced out of bed feeling frisky as a lamb, and Kit and I spent the morning running races in the field. She won, but that's because she cheats. Today I bounced out of bed feeling frisky as a lamb, and Kit and I spent the morning running races in the field. She won, but that's because she cheats.

Yesterday was horrible. You know how I felt when Mark appeared, but the next morning was even worse. He turned up at my door at seven, radiating confidence and certain that we'd have a wedding date set by noon. He wasn't the slightest bit interested in the Island, or the Occupation, or Elizabeth, or what I'd been doing since I arrived-he didn't ask a single question about any of it. Then Kit came down to breakfast. That surprised him-he hadn't really registered her the night before. He had a nice way with her-they talked about dogs-but after a few minutes, it was obvious that he was waiting for her to clear off I suppose, in his experience, nannies whisk the children away before they can annoy their parents. Of course, I tried to ignore his irritation and made Kit her breakfast as usual, but I could feel his displeasure billowing across the room.

At last Kit went outside to play, and the minute the door closed behind her, Mark said, 'Your new friends must be d.a.m.ned smart-they've managed to saddle you with their responsibilities in less than two months.' He shook his head-pitying me for being so gullible.

I just stared at him.

'She's a cute kid, but she's got no claim on you, Juliet, and you're going to have to be firm about it. Get her a nice dolly or something and say goodbye, before she starts thinking you're going to take care of her for the rest of her life.'

Now I was so angry I couldn't speak. I stood there, gripping Kit's porridge bowl with white knuckles. I didn't throw it at him, but I was close. When I could speak again, I whispered, 'Get out'

'Sorry?'

'I never want to see you again.'

'Juliet?' He had no idea what I was talking about.

So I explained. Feeling better by the minute, I told him that I would never marry him or anyone else who didn't love Kit and Guernsey and Charles Lamb.

'What the h.e.l.l does Charles Lamb have to do with anything?' he shouted (as well he might).

I declined to elucidate. He tried to argue with me, then to coax me, then to kiss me, then to argue with me again, but it was over and he knew it For the first time for ages-since February, when I met him-I was absolutely sure that I had done the right thing. How could I ever have considered marrying him? One year as his wife, and I'd have become one of those abject, quaking women who look at their husbands when someone asks them a question. I've always despised that type, but I see how it happens now.

Two hours later, Mark was on his way to the airfield, never (I hope) to return. And I, disgracefully un-heartbroken, was gobbling raspberry pie at Amelia's. Last night, I slept the sleep of the innocent for ten blissful hours, and this morning I feel thirty-two again, instead of a hundred.

Kit and I are going to spend the afternoon at the beach, hunting for agates. What a beautiful, beautiful day.

Love, Juliet

P. S. None of this means anything with regard to Dawsey. Charles Lamb just popped out of my mouth by coincidence. Dawsey didn't even come to say goodbye before he left. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that he turned to me on the cliff to ask if he could borrow my umbrella.

From faliet to Sidney 27th July 1946 July 1946

Dear Sidney,

I knew that Elizabeth had been arrested for sheltering a Todt worker, but I hadn't known she had an accomplice until a few days ago, when by chance Eben mentioned Peter Sawyer, 'who was arrested with Elizabeth.'

'WHAT?' I screeched, and Eben said he'd let Peter tell me about it.

Peter lives in a nursing home near Le Grand Havre in Vale, so. I telephoned him, and he said he'd be very glad to see me-especially if I had a tot of brandy about me.

'Always,' I said.

'Lovely. Come tomorrow,' he replied, and rang off.

Peter is in a wheelchair, but what a driver he is! He races it around like a madman, cuts corners and can turn on a sixpence. We went outside, sat under an arbour, and he tippled while he talked. This time, Sidney, I took notes-I couldn't bear to lose a word.

Peter was still living in his home in St Sampson's when he found the Todt worker, Lud Jaruzki, a sixteen-year-old Polish boy. Many of the Todt workers were permitted to leave their pens after dark to scrounge for food-as long as they came back. They were to return for work the next morning-and if they didn't, a hunt went up for them. This 'parole' was one way the Germans had to see the workers didn't starve-without wasting too much of their own foodstuffs on them.

Almost every Islander had a vegetable garden-some had hen houses and rabbit pens-a rich harvest for foragers. And that is what the Todt slave workers were-foragers. Most Islanders kept watch over their gardens at night-armed with sticks or poles to defend their vegetables. Peter stayed outside at night too, in the shadows of his hen house. No pole for him, but a big iron skillet and metal spoon to bang it with and sound the alarm for the neighbours.

One night he heard-then saw-Lud crawling through a gap in his hedgerow. Peter waited; the boy tried to stand but fell down; he tried to get up again, but couldn't-he just lay there. Peter wheeled over and stared down at the boy.

'He was a child, Juliet Just a child-face-up in the dirt Thin, my G.o.d he was thin, wasted and filthy, in rags. He was covered with vermin; they came out from his hair, crawled across his face, crawled over his eyelids. That poor boy didn't even feel them-no flicker, no nothing. All he wanted was a G.o.dd.a.m.ned potato-and he didn't even have the strength to dig it up. To do this to boys!

'I tell you, I hated those Germans with all my heart I couldn't bend down to see if he was breathing, but I got my feet off my chair pedals and managed to prod and poke him until his shoulders were turned to me. Now, my arms are strong, and I pulled the boy on to my lap. Somehow, I got us both up my ramp and into the kitchen-there, I let the boy fall to the floor. I built up my fire, got a blanket, heated water, I wiped his poor face and hands and drowned every louse and maggot I picked off' him.'

Peter couldn't ask his neighbours for help-they might report him to the Germans. The German Commandant had said that anyone who sheltered a Todt worker would be sent to a concentration camp or shot where they stood. Elizabeth was coming to Peter's house the next day-she was his nurse and visited once a week, sometimes more. He knew Elizabeth well enough to be pretty certain that she'd help him keep the boy alive, and that she'd keep quiet about it.

'She arrived around mid-morning the next day. I met her by the door and said I had trouble waiting inside, and if she didn't want trouble she shouldn't come in. She knew what I was trying to say, and she nodded and stepped inside. Her jaw clenched when she knelt by Lud on the floor-he smelt something awful-but she got down to business. She cut off his clothes and burnt them. She bathed him, washed his hair with tar soap-that made a mess, we did laugh, if you can believe it Either that or the cold water woke him up a bit. He was startled-frightened until he saw who we were. Elizabeth kept speaking softly, not that he could understand a word she said, but he was soothed. She dragged him into my bedroom-we couldn't keep him in my kitchen, the neighbours might come in and see him.

'Well, Elizabeth nursed him. There wasn't any medicine but she got bones for broth and real bread on the Black Market I had eggs, and little by little, day by day, he got his strength back. He slept a lot Sometimes Elizabeth had to come after dark, before curfew. It wouldn't do for anyone to see her coming to my house too often. People told on their neighbours, you know-trying to curry favour, or food, from the Germans.

'But someone did notice, and someone did tell-I don't know who it was. They told the Feldpolizei Feldpolizei and they came out on that Tuesday night Elizabeth had brought some chicken and was feeding Lud. I sat by his bedstead. and they came out on that Tuesday night Elizabeth had brought some chicken and was feeding Lud. I sat by his bedstead.

'They surrounded the house, all quiet until they burst in. Well-we was caught, fair and square. Taken that night, all of us, and G.o.d knows what they did to that boy.

'There wasn't any trial, and we was put on a boat to St Malo the next day. That's the last I saw of Elizabeth, led into the boat by one of the guards from the prison. She looked so cold. I don't know where they took her. They sent me to the prison in Coutances, but they didn't know what to do with a prisoner in a wheelchair, so they sent me home again after a week. They told me to be grateful for their lenience.'

Peter said that Elizabeth always left Kit with Amelia when she came to his house. n.o.body knew Elizabeth was helping the Todt worker. He believes she let everyone think she was at the hospital.

Those are the bare bones, Sidney, but Peter asked if I'd come back again. I said yes, I'd love to-and he told me not to bring brandy, just myself He would like to see some picture magazines, if I have any to hand. He wants to know who Rita Hayworth is.

Love, Juliet From Dawsey to Juliet 27th July 1946 July 1946

Dear Juliet,

It will soon be rime for me to collect Remy from the hospice, but as I have a few minutes, I will use them to write to you.

Remy seems stronger now than she was last month, but she is very frail yet. Sister Touvier took me aside to caution me-I must see to it that she gets enough to eat, that she stays warm, that she's not upset. She must be with people-cheerful people, if possible.

I've no doubt Remy will get nourishing food, and Amelia will see to it that she's warm enough, but how am I to serve up good cheer? Joking and suchlike is not natural to me. I didn't know what to say to the Sister, so I just nodded and tried to look jolly. I don't think it was very successful, because Sister glanced at me sharply.

Well, I will do my best, but you, blessed as you are with a sunny nature and a light heart, would make a better companion for Remy than I. I don't doubt she will take to you as we all have, these last months, and you will do her good.

Give Kit a hug and kiss for me. I will see you both on Tuesday.

Dawsey From Juliet to Sophie 29th July 1946 July 1946

Dear Sophie,

Please ignore everything I have ever said about Dawsey Adams.

I am an idiot.

I have just received a letter from Dawsey praising the medicinal qualities of my 'sunny nature and light heart' A sunny nature? A light heart? I have never been so insulted. Light-hearted is a short step from witless in my book. A cackling buffoon-that's what I am to Dawsey.

I am also humiliated-while I was feeling the knife-edge of attraction as we strolled through the moonlight, he was thinking about Remy and how my light-minded prattle would amuse her. No, it's clear that I was deluded and Dawsey doesn't give a fig for me.

I am too irritated to write more now.

Love always, Juliet From Juliet to Sidney 1st August 1946 August 1946

Dear Sidney,

Remy is here at last. She is pet.i.te and terribly thin, with short black hair and eyes that are nearly black too. I had imagined that she would look wounded, but she doesn't, except for a little limp, which shows itself as a mere hesitancy in her walk, and a rather stiff way of moving her neck.

Now I've made her sound waiflike, and she isn't really. You might think so from a distance, but never up close. There is a grave intensity in her that is almost unnerving. She is not cold and certainly not unfriendly, but she seems to be wary of spontaneity. I suppose if I had been through her experience, I would be the same-somewhat removed from everyday life.

You can cross out all the above when Remy is with Kit. At first, she seemed inclined to follow Kit with her eyes instead of talking to her, but that changed when Kit offered to teach her how to lisp. Remy looked startled, but she agreed to take lessons and they went off to Amelia's greenhouse together. Her lisp is hampered by her accent, but Kit doesn't hold that against her and has generously given her extra instructions.

Amelia had a small dinner party the evening Remy arrived. Everyone was on their best behaviour-Isola arrived with a big bottle of tonic under her arm, but she thought better of it once she saw Remy. 'Might kill her,' she muttered to me in the kitchen, and stuffed it in her coat pocket. Eli shook her hand nervously and then retreated-I think he was afraid he'd hurt her accidentally. I was pleased to see that Remy gets on well with Amelia-they will enjoy each other's company-but Dawsey is her favourite. When he came into the sitting room-a little later than the rest-she relaxed visibly and even smiled at him.

Yesterday was cold and foggy, but Remy and Kit and I built a sandcastle on Elizabeth's tiny beach. We spent a long time on its construction, and it was a splendid, towering specimen. I had made a Thermos of cocoa, and we sat drinking and waiting impatiently for the tide to come in and knock the castle down.

Kit ran up and down the sh.o.r.e, inciting the sea to rush in further and faster. Remy touched my shoulder and smiled. 'Elizabeth must have been like that once,' she said, 'the Empress of the seas.' I felt as if she had given me a gift-even a touch takes trust-and I was glad that she felt safe with me.

While Kit danced in the waves, Remy talked about Elizabeth. She had meant to keep her head down, conserve the strength she had left, and come home as quickly as she could after the war. 'We thought it would be possible. We knew of the invasion, we saw all the Allied bombers flying over the camp. We knew what was happening in Berlin. The guards could not keep their fear from us. Each night we lay sleepless, waiting to hear the Allied tanks at the gates. We whispered that we could be free the next day. We did not believe we would die.'

There didn't seem to be anything else to say after that-though I thought, If only Elizabeth could have held on for a few more weeks, she could have come home to Kit. Why, why, so close to the end, did she attack the overseer?

Remy watched the sea breathe in and out Then she said, 'It would have been better for her not to have such a heart.'

Yes, but worse for the rest of us.

The tide came in then: cheers, screams and no more castle.