Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [7]
‘With that lot upstairs?’
‘You’re not worried about —’
Anne blushed. ‘No, it’s just that I wouldn’t be able to hear myself think.’
‘Do you mind if I read?’
‘Of course not.’
Celia stood and squeezed past the Germans to the bookshelf. She bent down to examine its contents. As ever, there were only three books there: an anthology of poetry by Edgar Allen Poe, Three Plays by Christopher Marlowe and The Invisible Man. The Doras didn’t read much. Celia had read all of these books cover to cover several times.
Anne cleared her throat.
Celia glanced back at the Germans, who quickly looked down. It was a prearranged signal: the Germans had been gawping at her again. What was it they found so interesting about her bottom? Celia gave them a disapproving look, and they looked suitably repentant. Then she noticed that the pack of cards they were using had crudely drawn pornographic images on the back.
Celia plucked the Marlowe from the shelf and slipped back over to Anne. She smiled reassuringly at her sister, and opened up the book at a random page.
Why this is hell, nor am I out of it.
Celia slammed the book shut and went back to the bookshelf for the Poe. On the way over, she decided to take The Invisible Man as well, to save her a trip. After a couple of minutes she realized that she couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to read either of them. She rested the books in her lap.
‘Are you friends with Marie Simmonds?’ she asked Anne.
‘No, I am not,’ Anne said harshly. Then, ‘We met in the village last week.’
‘Not a friend of yours, then?’ Celia surmised.
‘She’s a jerry-bag.’ It meant that she slept with the Germans. The islanders didn’t distinguish between those doing it for money or those who did it out of love. Either way, it was the ultimate form of collaboration, and the worst thing you could call a woman here. As such, of course, the phrase was used to describe any female whom people didn’t like. No one on Guernsey, or anywhere else for that matter, led a blameless life. It seemed a strange double-standard: married women whose husbands had evacuated to the mainland could have affairs with fellow Guerseymen without anyone batting an eyelid, but if they had an affair with a German then they’d be stigmatized.
‘How do you know?’ Celia didn’t like Marie Simmonds, but didn’t want to think the worst of her without a bit more evidence.
‘I heard, that’s all,’ Anne said crossly.
‘Fair enough.’ How many women’s lives had been ruined by unsupported allegations? On a small island like this, it was the sort of reputation that stuck for decades. Simmonds would be branded as a collaborating whore until the day she died.
‘Marie Simmonds should be shot,’ Anne concluded.
Celia looked over at her sister. Pretty little Anne. She was still only a little girl, with a child’s body and a playground mentality.
Celia picked her Marlowe up again and began reading.
By half-past ten, the Germans finished their singing. Celia silently made her way upstairs, unlocked her bedroom door and slipped inside. As she got undressed, she tried to work out how many had died on Guernsey since she had been here. Not that many, but the deaths were taken for granted.
Murder was so routine, so arbitrary, that it had become the subject of idle canteen gossip. She wrapped a towel around herself, locked her door and headed across the landing to the bathroom.
‘Nice legs.’
A young German’s attempt at English. His name was Gerhard; he was staying in the room next to hers, sharing with another young private called Kurt. Gerhard was one of the nicer ones: always courteous, always willing to lend a hand. He had developed something of a crush on Celia. He was probably missing his mother. Gerhard sat on the landing, smoking a cigarette by himself, still in uniform. She could feel her towel slipping. Celia cursed herself.
‘We go date?’
Celia shook her head, smiling condescendingly. The German leapt up, startling her, but he quickly backed off.
‘Need help with bath?’
He couldn’t be more than seventeen. Had he ever kissed a girl? He’d certainly not had much