nodded in reply. Jack stepped out of the line to take charge, moving between the crowd of onlookers who stood gawping at the distressed woman. He didn’t know her, but her face was faintly familiar. He reached out an arm to stop her running off in the other direction again and tried to soothe her with his tone of voice. It was something he had practised before. She stopped but still looked around, her manner slowing down with each passing second.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, keeping his voice low.
‘My husband …’ was all she would say at first, until Jack pressed her.
‘What about him?’ he asked. ‘Tell me what happened and I will try to help.’
‘My husband. He’s gone,’ she said, her voice becoming a whisper, uncertain of what she was saying. Jack had to resist the urge to embrace and comfort her. He stood as close as was comfortable to hide her from the prying eyes of the crowd. ‘I went home and he wasn’t there. He was supposed to be there.’
He wondered how he would have felt if he were in this woman’s shoes, desperately searching for Johanna. Relatively speaking, she was the very model of calm. Jack thought about taking her home, to delve further into the problem, but he was needed here. The crowds were already pressing in and if he left his post then there would be chaos.
‘I want to help,’ he said. ‘But I need you to calm down and tell me exactly what happened.’
He led her aside to the mouth of an alley between two shops so that they wouldn’t be overheard. She took a few deep breaths then looked up at him. Her deep brown eyes cleared as if seeing him for the first time. At first her words were difficult to fully discern, but as she spoke she grew in confidence. ‘When the evacuation was announced,’ she said, ‘my husband and I, we decided that I should leave for England. We weren’t sure if it would be safe here, and we didn’t want to take the risk. So I signed up to go, but he … He had work here, work he had to stay for. So we decided that we would separate for the time being while the war was on. He stayed here and I caught a ship to England.
‘Only, I couldn’t stand it there, without him. Almost as soon as I got there I found a boat heading back. I couldn’t bear to be away from him, no matter how dangerous it was. Now I’m back, I can’t find him anywhere. Please help me.’
Sudden recollection dawned on Jack. He knew he had seen the woman before. It had been down in the harbour on the day the army were leaving and they were organising the boats to take people to the mainland. He had only caught a brief glimpse of the woman and her husband, but the image had stayed with him and he had seen the husband a few times since. ‘Oh dear,’ he said out loud, without realising he had spoken. Her mouth worked, trying to form a question. Jack saved her the trouble. ‘Your husband is fine,’ he said. ‘At least as far as I know. But the terrible thing is … Well, I saw him boarding one of the last boats to leave for the mainland.’
‘He … What?!’ The colour drained from her face, and her mouth hung open in shock.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jack replied. ‘He must have gone after you. He’ll be safely in England by now.’
‘I …’ She stopped again, her eyes darting as her thoughts raced. ‘I have to find a boat. I have to find a way off this island!’
She looked as if she was about to start running again, like an animal in flight. There was a wildness in her eyes that almost made Jack recoil. He wanted to do something to help, but he couldn’t think what. With the parade due to start he wouldn’t be able to leave his post without getting in trouble. There was only one thing he could think of.
‘Try Petit Port,’ he said, probably stating the obvious. ‘There may still be one or two boat crews that want to get out before the Germans take over the whole island.’
She nodded, but it wasn’t clear whether she had heard him, then she touched his arm. ‘Thank you,’ she said, words faint again. She picked up her skirts and ran off down the road, looking every bit like an actress from a film.
‘Good luck,’ Jack called after her before she was completely out of earshot.
*
Twenty or so minutes later, when everything had calmed down again and the crowds had pushed in, the Germans came marching along the road in groups, and into the centre of St Peter Port. Sergeant Honfleur walked at the head of the parade as they passed the Lloyds Bank on the corner, leading them along the route around the town. He looked about as happy to be there as Jack felt. The Germans’ field grey uniforms blended in with the grey stone of the shops and houses, but the red banners they carried, centred with a white circle and the German hooked cross, stood out sharply. They marched in step, four abreast, throwing their legs up in front of them in a flamboyant way that Jack had never seen before. Their bands came between each section of troops, driving them on with a rasp of brass instruments.
The Islanders came out of their homes to line the roads. The Germans were stern, but proud, as if they expected the residents to welcome them. The bands were deafening in their marching pomp, resounding glory, but the Islanders simply stared back, unsure of how to react. The Germans behaved like heroic liberators, but were nothing more than conquerors, adding the islands to their empire.
Jack stood with his compatriots, watching. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head at once. He thought of what this would mean for the island, and for him as a policeman. Like his colleagues, he’d been ordered to stand along the marching route, to make sure that the civilians kept their distance from the German soldiers. He’d been stationed almost at the centre of the town by The Pollet, but he wasn’t sure who to protect from whom, and he felt like he was standing between his countryfolk and their invaders. He had never felt more alone than at that moment, the only man visible in uniform, but not in the uniform of the German Wehrmacht.
He stood still and sighed deeply as another square of Germans goose-stepped past. He hoped Johanna was keeping herself away from trouble. It would be just like her to stand up to the Germans and cause some issue. They were seriously outnumbered, and there were very few places to hide.
‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself!’ A woman Jack didn’t know pushed herself in front of him, coming within a hair’s breadth of him. Under normal circumstances he would have been quick to show his authority, but tempers were rising. Jack simply stood his ground, as passive as possible, but the woman stepped closer to him. He could feel the tension radiating off her body like an approaching thunderstorm. She was close to spitting in his face. Even as a policeman he had never experienced such an open expression of anger. It wasn’t the first time he had heard those sentiments in the last few days, but it hurt more for some reason. The crowd had pressed in between Jack and David and he was on his own. He stood up tall, the woman shaking with anger in front of him.
‘Please step back,’ he said, close to losing his patience. He didn’t want to be there any more than she wanted him there, but he didn’t have much of a choice.
‘Whose side are you on anyway?’ she replied, raising her voice so that everyone around could hear. The crowd stared at him, no doubt wondering what he was going to do.
‘I’m on no one’s side, madam,’ he said, speaking low so that those prying couldn’t hear. It was a standard police response, but on this occasion it didn’t seem right. He was on a side, but he wasn’t sure which it was.
‘Don’t madam me,’ she continued, just as loud as before. ‘I suppose you’re just going to let them march all over the island and take what they want. Aren’t you supposed to be upholding
