Finn
We had to cancel Philly’s flight home again.
She said at this rate her family will start to think she’s been kidnapped by us and is being held hostage on the island.
But now she had some great news to tell them, about finding Ben.
I think her twins must have been very pleased to know where their dad was, at long last.
There was a lot that had to be done officially to persuade everyone that it really was Ben in that grave.
It wasn’t just as easy as digging up the coffin and taking him back to England.
First of all, we had to go back to tell the gendarmes .
That took quite a lot of time. We showed them the evidence we’d gathered, which included the rubbing I’d done of Ben’s name from the citadel walls that we’d shown them before to persuade them to look up the prison records from the war years.
Of course, that reminded them that I’d been trespassing, and I was a bit worried they might have to arrest me all over again, but the main one just whistled through his teeth and said, ‘Bravo, jeune homme ,’ so I knew they were going to let me off.
Then everything had to be passed to the mayor and they had to speak to Philippe to get his testimony.
And then it all had to be escalated to the Powers That Be, which meant a particular department in the French government.
There was an awful lot of paperwork to fill in.
Philly got in touch with the War Detectives in Britain too, and they put some pressure on the French authorities when they seemed to be questioning things for a bit too long.
Then there was even more paperwork. Mum and Dad helped.
Philly went home, but we stayed on the island longer than we usually do to make sure no one could forget about Ben all over again.
I had assumed Ben would be taken back to England, but, in fact, that turned out not to be the case.
Philly told me there’s a rule about it for people who died in either of the World Wars: ‘served together, died together, buried together’.
So they are buried with their compatriots, in war graves in the country where they were killed.
‘Are you disappointed you can’t take him home with you?’ I asked, when she came back in the spring.
‘A bit,’ she said. ‘But it’s a comfort knowing he’ll have a proper grave here on the island. And that means there’s somewhere for me to come and visit. Amy and Teddy too.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘And Philippe and I will take good care of it when you’re not here.’
‘Thank you, Finn. I know you will, and that means a lot to me.’
Her twins, Teddy and Amy, had come to the island with her this time. They were here for the ceremony, but they also wanted to meet Philippe and hear the stories of their dad and how he tried so hard to escape and get home to them all.
Philly stayed with us in the house, but Teddy and Amy stayed in a hotel, because otherwise it would have been a bit too cramped for everyone.
They’re nice. Teddy used to be a pilot in the RAF, flying planes like his mum and dad, and Amy was in the Foreign Office, but they’re both retired now and even have children and grandchildren of their own.
I took them to Philippe’s house. I’ve been going there sometimes to help him with his bees.
He says I make a good beekeeper because I can stay focused, even when we open up the hives and take out the frames holding the honeycomb to spin it and extract the honey.
The bees buzz around us, but it’s OK as we’re wearing our white suits and hoods with netting on.
I like wearing the suit. It makes me feel safe and cocooned, so I can stay calm.
Sometimes I wear it around the house or to go to the market with Mum and Dad because it protects me from the noise and the people, just like it protects me from the bees.
I’d like to wear it all the time. It would be good for going back to school in, but then I suppose the other kids would think I was even weirder.
Philippe’s bees seem to trust him, and he says they never sting if you treat them with respect.
He believes in doing it the old-fashioned way, only taking the honey that’s left over after the winter so that the bees have had enough supplies to keep them going.
In the spring, once the blossom on the trees in the orchard comes out, they can collect nectar and begin to make more, so we can take what’s left as there’s no risk of them starving.
We went with Philippe to the salt pans as well and he showed Philly’s twins where their dad had worked.
They all cried when they thought about Ben being bitten by flies and the salt getting into the sores on his legs.
Philippe told them, too, that Ben had always been brave and dignified, that you could tell he was made of strong stuff, and that his love for his family kept him going even in the toughest times. That made them all cry again.
On the day before the ceremony, Philly asked me if I would take her out on the dinghy one last time.
Amy and Teddy said they’d like to get out on to the water as well, so Dad took them all out in the bigger boat and we followed them in the Laser.
That was a good day, because it wasn’t too hot yet and the wind was just strong enough to make us go fast. When we got to the lagoon, Philly took a sprig of white heather from her pocket and let it float on the water.
We let the boat drift for a few minutes, and stayed alongside the heather as the tide began to carry it towards the lighthouse.
Philly shaded her eyes with her hand against the dazzle of the sunshine and watched the little sprig until it disappeared among the waves.
She was holding on to the signet ring with Ben’s initials, which she wears on a gold chain around her neck.
I sat still and kept quiet because I understood it was important to her to say that goodbye in her own way, in the place where Ben had got into a little rowing boat and headed out into the wildness of the sea one stormy night as he tried to get home to her again.
Then a pair of kittiwakes swooped above the mast. They called to each other, their wings spread wide, and I thought they looked a bit like aeroplanes, flying in formation together.
I saw Philly notice them as well, and her red lips turned upwards into a smile as she watched them fly away, soaring out over the ocean as the waves flung little drops of spray into the air around the bow of our boat.
And then I knew she had been able to Come to Terms with losing Ben, now she understood what had happened. She had found Closure and finished the Unfinished Business.
‘Right then,’ Philly said at last, turning to me when she’d finished thinking her thoughts about Ben and the kittiwakes. ‘Are you ready to take me home, Skipper?’
We waved to the others, and I turned the dinghy so we had the wind behind us. It felt a bit like we were flying, too, as we headed back to the harbour.
When Dad came to tuck me in that night, he said, ‘I’m very proud of you, you know, Finn. You’re a competent sailor now. And you’ve done an incredible thing, helping Philly find Ben and bring him home.’ He held up his hand and spread his fingers, making the starfish sign.
And then I did something I’ve never done before.
I reached out my hand and held my palm right against his.
And this time I didn’t mind the touching.
Because I knew Dad would get into a rowing boat and risk his life to try to get back to me and Mum if he was ever taken prisoner.
I know that he loves me as much as Ben loved Philly and his children.