Page 83 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
“I hope you’re right. You never know who your friends are until they are tested.”
Ellie thought about this after Mavis had gone that afternoon. Did she have any real friends here? She enjoyed Roland’s company, and Tommy and Clive. She found Nico fascinating but was wary of him. The doctor and his wife gave civilized little soirées. But which of them would turn on her if they had to? She had no idea. The long, light evenings stretched out in silence, unless she listened to the radio or played the piano. She was improving at the latter, her fingers relearning old, familiar pieces. Occasionally, as she prepared for bed, she would watch Nico moving through the garden.Should I stop him from coming?she wondered.I could appeal to the owner through Monsieur Danton. Are his activities going to put me at risk?But somehow it was comforting to know that he was close by, if she needed him. She remembered his arms around her when Jojo was taken and how easily she had lain against his chest.
I should find out the truth from him,she thought.Demand that he tell me, to make sure I’m not harbouring stolen goods.But she didn’t think she would have the nerve to do so.
July was not that different from any other summer in Saint-Benet. French holidaymakers came to stay and went to the beach with their sand toys like any other year. Some of them looked into renting rooms on a longer basis. “This place feels as if it will be safe,” one of them said. Ellie took the ferry across to the island, again crowded with the curious. She and Abbot Gerard sat together in his office and shared a glass of wine. He told her he was worried about the enemy coming for his monks. Hitler was no great fan of the church, he said. What if hismonks were conscripted and sent to work in German factories or even into the German army?
“We haven’t seen any sign yet that the Germans are actually interested in what goes on down here,” Ellie said.
“So far,” he agreed. “I’m sure they’ll come for Marseille—the most important port in the Mediterranean. And Toulon. They’ll want to take over the French navy ships or disable them. But the Italians ... Mussolini has had his eye on Nice and Monte Carlo for a long time. Very prosperous places. I can see him trying to invade, to sneak into bits of territory.”
“The Italians wouldn’t be so bad, would they?” Ellie said. “They’ve always appeared so easy-going to me.”
“Better than Germans, I agree, but when you see newsreels of the Fascist black-shirted bullies, you’ll know there are some in every country who enjoy throwing their weight around. But I think we might be safe here. The Germans won’t want them to hold Marseille. They might draw a line, and we’ll be in no-man’s land.”
He asked her about coming to terms with her grief.
“I don’t think it was grief as much as self-pity at my loneliness,” she said. “And fear.”
He nodded approval. “So you are already making progress when you can analyse your own feelings,” he said. “But of course you mourn your friend. You mourn the child you raised. It’s only natural. But grief fades after time. Time is a great healer.”
They were interrupted by one of the monks, saying that a government official from Vichy wanted a word with the abbot.
“So now it starts,” he said, standing up. “Go with God, my dear.”
July turned to August with a trickle of summer visitors and hot, humid air. Ellie was glad of the high ceilings and marble floors of the villa. She sat on the back terrace, relishing the breeze from the sea, sippinglemonade from her own lemons. Sometimes she went down the steps into the village and bathed at the beach. On one occasion she was coming back with a robe loosely over her bathing suit when she came across Nico and a group of men at the harbour.
One of the men gave a wolf whistle, then joked: “So the bathing beauties of the Riviera are coming to Saint-Benet now.”
Nico scowled at him. “That is not called for,” he said. “Madame is still mourning the loss of her friend.” He made eye contact with Ellie. “I’m glad to see you out and about, and swimming. Good, healthy activity is what you need.”
“Walking up and down those steps is enough activity for anybody to stay fit,” Ellie replied. “But then you must know that.”
And she walked on, again confused by him. He had stood up for her, rebuked the man who had made an inappropriate comment, but had his own words had a double meaning? She had seen that flash of sparkle in his eyes. She never knew with Nico. That was so infuriating.
At the end of August the last of the visitors disappeared and Saint-Benet resumed its sleepy quiet. The news from the outside world was more and more alarming. The Nazis had bombed airfields and factories in England. Battles were raging in the skies over southern England, but so far the Royal Air Force was holding off the might of the Luftwaffe. Then, at the beginning of September, the first bombing raids hit London.
“Aren’t you glad you stayed here now?” Mavis asked. She had been coming up to the villa most days to check on Ellie, as she put it, but always found work to do when she was there.
“It looks like the Germans are about to invade England, doesn’t it? I certainly wouldn’t have wanted Jerries on my doorstep, thank you very much.”
“Perhaps they won’t succeed,” Ellie said.
Mavis shook her head. “I don’t think we have the means to keep them out.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” Ellie said. “We English do have a strong sense of pride and fighting spirit, but the retreat at Dunkirk was embarrassing, wasn’t it? Especially because they left all their equipment behind. Let’s hope they can keep the Nazis at bay for a while.”
“We’d still have been worrying about getting bombed all the time.”
“I don’t suppose they’d bomb us if we lived in a village in the countryside,” Ellie said. “All the same, I suppose we are better off here. You are, anyway. You have Louis to love and support you now. That’s a great blessing.”
As she said it, a voice in her head said that the last ferry to the abbey of the season had made its final trip. She would not see Abbot Gerard again until next May. The thought felt like a small dagger through her heart.I mustn’t think about him,she told herself.It’s not right.She could take the speedboat, of course, but then she would be compromising him in his position as abbot. The monks would talk. Make suppositions. And she couldn’t risk that.
There had been little interest in Saint-Benet from the new puppet government. Perhaps they didn’t even know it existed. Perhaps they didn’t care. Ellie and Mavis with help from Bruno harvested a bumper crop of fruits and vegetables and used every available jar to preserve them.
“Let’s hope they don’t decide to ration sugar,” Mavis said.
“I had a hard time getting any when I put in my last order to the delivery lorry,” Ellie said. “I suppose it’s to be expected, isn’t it? Sugar has to be imported from the colonies, and merchant ships are being sunk all the time.”
