Our consternation and bewilderment were great. We could not believe this which had suddenly been thrust upon us. Jowan was astounded.
“It is not possible,” he kept saying. “You cannot believe this.” But remembering what he had told me, I thought it was just possible, and so did he.
Mrs. Jermyn was practical about the matter.
She knew that Jowan had stayed at the farmhouse after his escape; she knew that this young girl had been there. Even she believed that it was possible.
She busied herself with details. The girl must be looked after. A room was made ready for her. If her story were true, we must do our duty by her, she said.”
As for Lisette, she showed no great concern. It was clear that she was excited and was enjoying the situation in which she found herself. The house overlooking the sea was a delight to her, and she seemed to view this as a great adventure.
“Thees beautiful ’ouse,” she said. “This will be my baby’s ’ome. Oh, darleeng Jowan, we will ’ave our little baby. He will be big and strong like you.”
She giggled a great deal and then I began to notice there was something strange in her attitude which mystified me. That frequent, high-pitched laugh—was it a little nervous? Once I found her laughing to herself and, when I looked closely, there were tears in her eyes.
I said: “What are you laughing at, Lisette?”
“I laugh because I am ’appy. My baby will live in this grande maison. It is very good.”
“You are not really happy though, are you?” I insisted.
She looked scared for a moment.
“I very ’appy. It makes me ’appy to have my little baby who will live in this grande maison.” She added almost defiantly, “That makes me ’appy.”
I wondered what was on her mind. She was too young to conceal her thoughts successfully. She was not yet seventeen. She would remember little of what it was like before the war, I guessed. It was now over five years since it had started. Children grew up quickly in such times. She would be wise in certain matters, though ignorant of other ways of life.
I felt sorry for her in spite of the trouble she was causing us. She alternated between moments of deep satisfaction and a certain desperation. At times she was like a sleek cat, sophisticated in the extreme, yet at others she was like a scared kitten.
On more than one occasion I tried to probe her inner thoughts.
I said: “You are not really happy, Lisette. You are worried about something.”
She opened those sloe eyes very wide and shook her head. Her protestations of her happiness were too vehement to ring entirely true.
Mrs. Jermyn, deeply disturbed as she was, continued to make plans.
“What are we going to do about this child?” she said. “It’s a most extraordinary situation. The mother saved your life and the daughter is threatening to ruin it. But we won’t let that happen. We shall look after her until the child is born and, if necessary, keep it. I think she has some idea of marrying you. Quite out of the question. We shall see that she is all right. Money, of course. She could go back to France and we will look after the child.”
I often thought how easy it was to settle other people’s problems, and I am sure Mrs. Jermyn knew that as well as anyone. As she spoke, she made it seem a simple matter. We would send Lisette back to France, compensated; the child would remain and we would try to forget what Mrs. Jermyn purposely called, to give it less substance, “this unfortunate matter.”
We were all miserable. Jowan could not bear to look at Lisette and every time he did so I could see the incredulity in his eyes. He had to accept the fact that it was possible that, in a moment of oblivion, he may have become the father of Lisette’s child, and yet he could not believe it.
It could have happened as Lisette said and there was to be a child. Nothing could alter that.
In the circumstances, we could not proceed with our wedding plans. We lived uneasily through those days.
It was difficult to know what steps had been taken.
In the midst of all this, I heard from Richard. The divorce had gone through. It had all been accomplished speedily and unobtrusively as no objections had been raised and it was desired by both parties.
I need have no fear on that score.
It seemed of no great importance now.
One morning a letter from Buster Brown arrived. Jowan showed it to me. It was written in a large scrawl.
Dear Captain,
Here I am and glad to get your letter at last. Must say, I’d like to see that home of yours. What a time we had, didn’t we?
I’m at Lark Hill now. They’re giving me duties at home for a while. I could come on Wednesday. Stay a couple of nights if that would be convenient to you. I expect you’ve got room for a little ’un.
It will be good to see you. Your humble servant,
Buster Brown
Jowan was cheered at the thought of seeing him, though I could see he was thinking about the difficulty of explaining the situation regarding Lisette.
He drove to the station on the Wednesday morning and came back with Buster.
I ran down to meet them. Buster was exactly as Jowan had described him—of medium height, rather wiry with dark hair and lively eyes, and a smile which appeared frequently and gave a comical and endearing look to his face.
“You’re Miss Violetta,” he said. “Have to say I’ve heard about you.”
We took him into the hall. He gazed at the vaulted ceiling and his eyes ranged around. He stared in wonder at the tapestries on the walls.
“Blimey,” he said. “Never seen nothing like that before.”
“They belonged to my ancestors,” said Jowan.
Buster was about to say something when Lisette appeared on the staircase. Buster stared at her and she at him. Buster opened his mouth, and I believe he controlled some expletive.
Lisette had turned pale.
Then I heard her say in a somewhat stifled voice: “Bustaire.”
She ran to him and flung herself at him.
“Here,” said Buster. “Steady.”
“Oh, Bustaire … Bustaire,” she cried.
Buster held her tightly and gazed over her shoulder at Jowan.
“Lisette is staying here,” said Jowan.
Lisette was crying and laughing, clinging to Buster.
“You ’ave come,” she cried. “I knew you come. You ’ave come for me.”
It was salvation.
Lisette had exhausted herself with emotion and we told her she must rest, for the sake of the child.
Buster explained to us what had happened.
“This is a real turn-up for the troops,” he said. “I come to see you, and find Lisette here.”
He went on: “You know how it goes? We was there and she was young and the fruity sort. It was natural that we took to each other. We got up to tricks. Just human nature, after all. Then you and me went off. I often thought about her. Nice kid. Needs a bit of looking after, and I’m tickled pink about the little ’un.”
I realized that Buster had difficulty in taking life seriously.
“You see, sir,” he said to Jowan. “This ain’t none of your business.”
Jowan explained how Lisette had arrived with English people who had brought her from France with them.
“They were determined that justice should be done and she had told them I was the father of her child.”
“Cor, what a nerve! You wasn’t never near her.”
“It was difficult. There were times when I had been unaware. There were times … Marianne …”
“She was a real one for coddling the boys. She had a way with her. Made you feel you was a little ’un again. She’d slip in beside you and give you a cuddle. True, she wouldn’t be above a little bit of fun. But Lisette, no … she kept an eye on her. We had to pick our times, I can tell you. And we did.”