At the same time, I was visiting Mrs. Pardell now and then. She had been a good friend to us at the time of Dorabella’s return and I knew she was pleased when I called on her, though her nature prevented her from showing this pleasure.
She was fiercely patriotic and was constantly knitting sweaters and balaclavas for the troops; she also worked a few hours a week with the Red Cross.
She gave me a glass of her home-brewed wine and, as we sat talking, she mentioned the lights which had been seen flashing out to sea.
I said: “Mr. Lewyth thinks they were probably lightning.”
“That could be,” she agreed. “And yet again it might not.”
“If it were not, what was it?”
She pressed her lips tightly together and said: “Well, I suppose there could have been something out there … a submarine, or something like that … something out of sight that could get in close … and someone on land could be sending out messages.”
“I suppose that is possible …”
“They’re up to all sorts of things nowadays. There’s some funny people about. The lights were out your way. You ought to remember that, so you could keep a special guard.”
“But…” I began.
“Well,” she went on, “you’ve got that German girl up there. Can’t be too careful these days.”
“You can’t mean …”
“Well, she’s a German. You can’t trust any of them. Little Hitlers, the lot of them.”
“Gretchen!” I cried. “Oh, but that’s absurd. She hates Hitler and his regime. He has ruined the lives of her family.”
“Well, that’s as may be, but once a German always a German.”
I knew from the past that once Mrs. Pardell had made up her mind, there was no changing it. I was deeply disturbed, for I guessed she was not the only one who would be suspicious of Gretchen. Her accent betrayed her and since the flashing lights episode, which as had been observed, had come from Tregarland’s way, they would say: That German woman is there.
After that I was aware of people’s attitude towards Gretchen when we went into the Poldowns together. Sly looks were cast her way.
This was ridiculous. I could only hope that Gretchen was not aware of it. But I could see there was an inevitability about it. The people wanted to suspect someone, and naturally they looked to Gretchen.
This was confirmed when I made the discovery through Bert Trimmell.
I came across him one day, sitting on a stile near the home farm. He had been doing some little job Gordon had given him. Both boys liked to work on the farm, particularly among the animals.
He looked mournful, even near to tears. I paused and said: “Hello, Bert. What’s wrong?”
He hesitated for a moment and then said: “Nanny Crabtree don’t like us anymore. Will she send us away?”
“Good gracious, no. She would never do that. She really does like you very much.”
“She don’t like Charley. Charley says she could send us away.”
“She would never do that. We wouldn’t let her, and she wouldn’t want to either. It’s just that she doesn’t like fighting and Charley wouldn’t tell her why he had done it when she has said he was not to.”
“Charley didn’t think he ought to tell her, did he?”
I was used to the phraseology of the boys. They would ask confirmation of facts of which one could know nothing. They were not really asking, I realized. It was just a form of speech.
“To tell her what?” I asked.
“What he was fighting about.”
“Why?”
“’Cos he didn’t think it was right, did he?”
“What didn’t he think was right?”
“To tell ’er. He said there was some things you had to keep quiet about.”
“Bert, please tell me. I promise that, if it is something which I shouldn’t be told, I won’t tell it.”
He paused for a moment, then he looked at me squarely.
“All right,” he said. “It was that boy, wasn’t it. He said there was a traitor in our ’ouse. She was a German spy and she was sending messages to them Germans out there.”
“Yes,” I said faintly.
“Well, Charley said it was a lie, didn’t he? There wasn’t no traitors in our ’ouse, and then he gave him that black eye, didn’t ’e?”
“I see. So that was what it was all about.”
“Charley didn’t ’arf give him a going over,” Bert giggled. “Charley would give him the same over again if he said anything about anybody in our ’ouse.”
“I see. Bert, I think I ought to tell Nanny Crabtree.”
“Charley won’t like it. He’ll go on at me for telling.”
“I think Charley will like it. It was a good thing he did. I am going to tell Nanny. Then I think she will like him … like him very much. Charley need not be unhappy anymore.”
Bert was silent for a moment, then he said: “All right. You’ll know, Miss.”
I went to Nanny Crabtree at once.
“Nanny,” I said. “I’ve discovered why Charley was fighting.
“The young imp,” said Nanny. “After I’d told him I’d have none of that here.”
“I think you’ll change your mind when you hear. Some boy was saying that Gretchen was a spy and was sending messages out to sea. Charley wouldn’t have that. He wouldn’t have anyone saying anything against anyone in this house.”
Nanny Crabtree’s face softened into a beatific smile.
“And he had a fight with this boy because of that? Silly lad. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He seemed to have some idea that you wouldn’t like it to be mentioned.”
“Well, well, what would you do with them then?”
“So it was rather a noble act,” I said.
“What goes on in their minds, bless ’em. I’m going to give him my sweet ration, that’s what.”
I put my arms round her and hugged her. Nanny loved sweet things and her sweet ration was rather important to her.
After that, Charley knew he was forgiven.
I said to Nanny: “I am so pleased. It shows, doesn’t it, that he thinks of Tregarland as his home?”
“More of a home than he had back with those parents of his. And that Aunt Lil. I don’t much like the sound of her.”
“Yes,” I said. “He feels he has to defend us all. It means, Nanny, that he looks on this now as his home.”
We had a caller at the Priory. He drove over one afternoon when I happened to be in the gardens getting some flowers for one of the rooms, so I heard the car arrive and went to see who it was.
A tall, pleasant-looking man in the uniform of a captain alighted from the car.
“I wonder if I could see Mrs. Jermyn,” he asked me. “My name is Brent.”
“I am sure you can. Do come in.”
I took him to a sitting room on the ground floor and asked one of the maids to tell Mrs. Jermyn that we had a visitor.
“A lovely place you have here,” he said. “Highly suitable for your convalescent home. It is that I have come to see you about really.”
“We have had visits from the authorities and from the hospital. That was when we started.”
“Yes, I know, and everyone is delighted about what you are doing. I’m actually an army doctor. My captain’s rank is complimentary. I thought you might allow me to call occasionally to see the men who are here. Many of them, although they are physically well enough to leave hospital, have suffered grueling experiences and need special care.”
Mrs. Jermyn arrived. They shook hands and he said: “I’m James Brent—attached to the medical staff. I have been explaining to Miss …”
“Denver,” I supplied.