Chapter 37
chapter
St. Helier
With her hands pressed to her cheeks, Ivy wandered in circles in the hallway.
She couldn’t help Charlie. Not at all. Even if she knew where he was, she couldn’t go to him, couldn’t treat him, or she’d lead Wolfle to him.
She couldn’t warn her aunt and uncle, couldn’t tell the ring to move Bernardus. “I can’t do anything, Lord.”
And Dad and Mum—with Red Cross messages now cut off, she had no way to tell them.
Her wooden-soled shoe bumped the appointment book on the floor, and she picked it up. She had three appointments this morning, and the office was in disarray.
That’s what she could do.
Ivy gathered the papers from the floor and stacked them on the desk. Poor Aunt Ruby would have to straighten the mess when she arrived.
Aunt Ruby! Ivy pulled in a breath of refreshing air. Her aunt might be able to help in some way, get a message to someone.
“Joan!” Ivy grabbed a piece of paper and ran to the supply room. The shattered medicine bottles needed to be replaced. If Aunt Ruby went to the chemist’s to make a purchase, she could also deliver a message.
Ivy plucked out shards of glass, read the labels, and wrote down the contents. Then she scooped up tablets and brushed them off. Before the occupation, she would have thrown them away, but not now. Not when these might be the last medications she’d have until liberation.
The front door opened, and feminine footsteps came down the hall. “What on earth?” Aunt Ruby cried. “Ivy? Are you all right?”
Ivy set a handful of tablets on the shelf and joined her aunt. The horror of the morning and her relief at seeing Aunt Ruby jumbled together. “The field police came searching for Charlie. He tried to escape by boat last night, and the Germans shot and injured him.”
“No!” Aunt Ruby collapsed into her chair.
“He evaded arrest somehow. They don’t know where he is. Neither do I. He didn’t come here.” Ivy’s voice cracked, and she sank to her knees on the wooden floor.
Aunt Ruby fumbled for Ivy’s hand. “Poor Charlie.”
Ivy squeezed her aunt’s hand. “They may search your home. Do you have any contraband? Do you need to warn Uncle Leo?”
“No, no.” She gasped. “Arthur! His wireless.”
And Bernardus and Gerrit and the mapmaking materials. “I need your help to send him a mess—”
“I’ll go straightaway.”
“No, the Germans will follow you. They’re watching the house. I have another idea.” Ivy pushed to standing. “They made a mess in the supply room, broke medicine bottles. I’ll send you to Carter’s Chemist’s with a list. If the Germans follow you, you’ll have an excuse.”
“All right.” Aunt Ruby followed Ivy to the supply room.
“Take the list to Miss de Ferrers. Many of the medicines will be out of stock, but it’ll give you a reason to talk to her.
” Ivy resumed sorting through the broken glass for labels.
“I have a message for Miss de Ferrers. You must wait until no one else is around, and you must repeat it word for word.”
“Oh my. This sounds rather hush-hush.”
“Tell her I need a prescription filled for Arthur Jouny for fifty grains of aspirin.”
“Fifty grains? You mean five.”
“Fifty. You must say fifty.” Ivy scribbled another medication on her list. “If Miss de Ferrers corrects you, as she will, say Dr. Picot insists on fifty grains.”
“Is that some sort of—”
“Please don’t ask questions.” Ivy wrote down one more medication, stood, and handed her aunt the list. “Go now and quickly.”
“Not too quickly, or I’ll look suspicious.” Aunt Ruby’s brown eyes widened behind her glasses. “Fifty grains of aspirin for Arthur Jouny.”
“Yes.” Ivy pecked her on the cheek. “Thank you. Be careful.”
“I will.” She frowned at the mess. “Then I’ll come back and clean.”
After Aunt Ruby left, Ivy took a deep breath. What next? Patients could arrive within the hour.
Her office, overlooking the street, was strewn with papers and folders that would take hours to sort.
She sighed and checked the first examination room, where she’d see patients, her top priority. Cupboards and drawers had been emptied, and she gathered supplies from the floor and tucked them out of sight. She’d set them to rights later.
“Ivy? Ivy, are you all right?”
“Gerrit?” Ivy dashed out.
He stood by the receptionist’s desk in a gray civilian suit and homburg, gaping at the overturned chairs.
“Come.” She pulled him into the examination room and shut the door in case patients arrived.
“The field police?” His face contorted, and he reached for her.
She fell into his arms. “It’s Charlie. He tried to escape last night, but the Germans shot and injured him. He evaded them, but we don’t know where he is or how badly he’s injured or if he’s even alive.”
“Oh no.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “He left a note at the farm.”
“He did? I wanted to warn Uncle Arthur. The police may raid the farm.”
“They realized that.” His chest rose and fell under her cheek. “They burnt all the evidence, sent Bernardus to a neighbor. You’ll need to tell the ring to move him straightaway.”
“I sent Aunt Ruby with the message.” Her breathing slowed in the warmth of Gerrit’s embrace. “I’m glad Uncle Arthur recognized the danger.”
“I am too.” He settled a kiss on her forehead. “Charlie—do you have any idea where he might have gone?”
“No. I can only imagine him coming here or to Aunt Ruby’s or to the farm, but he didn’t. The note—what did he say?” She raised her head.
Hesitation swam in his green-blue eyes, and his Adam’s apple dropped to his collar and rose again. “He went with three of his friends from Victoria College.”
Ivy groaned. “That explains why he’s met with them lately.”
“They’re all of age. They want to serve in the forces. Do you know—were the others captured? Shot?”
“They escaped by boat. Only Charlie—” Her throat clamped off. Her brother—her bright, lively, compassionate, clever brother.
“If they didn’t capture him,” Gerrit said, “how do they know it’s Charlie who was shot?”
“He dropped his bag. It has his name on it. Oh, Gerrit, your maps were in the bag. The Germans have them.”
Gerrit grimaced and scrunched his eyes shut. “I was afraid of that.”
She clutched at his back. “What if they figure out how to develop the ink?”
His eyes inched open, just enough to meet her gaze. “The maps—that’s one of the reasons Charlie tried to escape.”
“Yes . . .” Charlie must have wanted to deliver them to the British.
Gerrit’s jaw shifted forward and back, and his eyebrows bunched together. “His escape attempt is partly my fault.”
“Your fault?”
“A few weeks ago at the farm, I was upset and walked out. You followed me. We were by an open window. Charlie heard me.”
The conversation grazed through her mind. Gerrit had called his work a mist in the wind. He’d mentioned diagrams of use to the Allies, trapped in Aunt Opal’s scrap bag. And Charlie, always thoughtful, always generous, had heard Gerrit’s rant.
Her breath puffed through her nostrils. “He did it for you.”
“He did.” Gerrit’s words came out choked. “Yes, he also went so he could fight for Britain, but I accept full responsibility.”
Ivy tugged on his suit jacket. “Now he’s bleeding somewhere, in pain, dying, maybe already dead. My little brother.”
His face crumpled, but he kept his gaze on her. “I’m so sorry, Ivy.”
Her hands clenched fistfuls of gray wool. For the first time in her life, she wanted to hit someone. She wanted to hit Gerrit.
And yet behind the blinking blond eyelashes, something flickered in the narrow band of green-blue. Concern for Charlie. Acceptance of the consequences of his words. Acceptance of losing her.
The front door opened. “Ivy? I’m back.”
Aunt Ruby! Staring at Gerrit’s tortured face, Ivy fought to control her breath and signaled for him to stay silent. She slipped out of the examination room, shut the door behind her, and stood in front of the door to keep her aunt out—and so Gerrit could hear. “Did you pass on the message?”
“I did, and I received one in return.” Aunt Ruby set a little box of medicine bottles on the desk, and she gripped Ivy’s hands. “Charlie is in hiding, and Dr. Tipton treated him.”
“Thank you, Lord.” Ivy sagged back against the door, and it rattled.
“Miss de Ferrers said he was shot in the side and lost a lot of blood. He’s still in danger.
” Aunt Ruby leaned close. “We are not allowed to know where he is. Miss de Ferrers said the Germans will follow you, and you must keep that in mind when making home visits. I don’t know why she made me promise to tell you, but she insisted. ”
“She’s being considerate.” Ivy raised a watery smile. She would no longer be treating patients in the ring.
Aunt Ruby’s gaze sharpened. “We need to promptly forget we heard this about Charlie. We know only what the Germans know, understood?”
“Understood.” She’d let Uncle Arthur and Aunt Opal know when she saw them next, but no one else. “You can tell Uncle Leo, but we mustn’t tell Fern.”
“No.” Her lips folded in, then she shook her head and glanced at her wristwatch. “Your first appointment is in twenty minutes. Is the examination room ready?”
“Almost.” As soon as she shooed away her visitor. “Why don’t you inspect the damage upstairs?”
Aunt Ruby clucked her tongue. “The waiting room.”
“I’ll take care of that.” Ivy set chairs upright as Aunt Ruby ascended the stairs. When she reached the top, Ivy would escort Gerrit out. Thank goodness he was wearing a civilian suit rather than his uniform—the field police would assume him to be a patient.
The front door banged open and shut, and Fern hurried into the waiting room. Her face was red, and tear tracks marred her high cheekbones. “Any news on Charlie?”
None that she could repeat, but Fern’s concern for her brother softened Ivy’s spine. “I don’t know where he is.”
Fern let out a fierce grunt. “This is your fault. You filled his head with nonsense, but all he had to do was obey the rules.”
Ivy’s spine hardened again. “I never told him to break any rules. And if he’d told me he planned to escape, I would have begged him not to.”
Gerrit would have too, and Ivy’s breath caught. He was no more to blame for Charlie’s actions than she was.
“You and Charlie.” Fern thrust a finger in Ivy’s direction. “You don’t even care how your actions affect me.”
A laugh erupted. The hypocrisy, when Fern didn’t care how her actions affected Ivy and Charlie. “You? Charlie has been shot, and you’re concerned about how this affects you?”
“I lost my job.” Fern’s mouth shrank into a tiny dot. “I went to Helmut to ask for his help, to ask for mercy for Charlie when they find him. But he said he can’t trust me, not with the family under investigation. He—they think I might be a spy.”
Ivy gave a sympathetic murmur. “He won’t see you anymore, will he?”
Sparks flared in Fern’s eyes. “It’s your fault. You couldn’t bear seeing me happy, and you ruined it.”
Ivy gritted her teeth so she wouldn’t speak the truth. Again.
“Is this your revenge?” Fern’s nostrils flared. “You’re jealous because I’m in love, and you—you know nothing about love. You never will.”
“I know more about love than you ever will.” Ivy let out a little gasp. Why had she said that? She’d all but admitted to being in love.
The sparks quenched, but the nostrils flared even wider, and Fern released a scoffing sound. “I pity you.” She whirled away and marched upstairs.
As soon as Fern’s bedroom door slammed, Ivy rushed into the examination room. “Did you hear Aunt Ruby?” she whispered.
“I did.” Gerrit leaned back against the examination table, gripping the edge, his expression taut. “Trust your friends to treat him, to hide him.”
“I do.” She leaned back against the table beside him so they could speak quietly.
“I heard your sister too,” Gerrit said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I accept full responsibility.”
With long, slow breaths, she blew the blame away. “Did you tell Charlie to do this? Even suggest it?”
“No, but . . .”
Ivy stroked his hand on the table between them, so stiff and tense. “Charlie chose to escape without asking us, without informing us. He is responsible for his decision.”
Gerrit heaved out a sigh. “Yes, but if I hadn’t—”
“He still might have gone with his friends. He’s seventeen.
” She pried Gerrit’s hand off the table and massaged it as if she could massage away his guilt.
“If you must blame someone, blame the Germans. They came uninvited, they’ve caused hardship and suffering, and they refused to leave when they should have done.
That’s why so many are trying to escape. ”
Gerrit stayed silent. Stayed stiff. “You’re very kind, but I understand if you never want to see me again.”
Ivy studied the fingers she held, the fingers she stroked, the fingers she loved. “To sketch you, I have to see you, to look at you. Isn’t that what you told me? And I love sketching you.”
Gerrit said nothing, but he gathered her into his arms.
Her nervous chuckle ruffled his necktie. “You must think me rather odd.”
“Oh, mijn geliefde.” He kissed her forehead. “I think you’re a marvel.”