“I’ll carry him, if you’re tired,” I said.
“If he’s not too heavy for you.” He nodded. “I’ll go on ahead—let them know he’s been found.”
I got the distinct impression that Jack was the one running away now.
Much later, when the sun was going down, Jack came by with Brock. He told me that the German plane that had dropped the bomb on the field had been shot down by the Spitfire Louis had seen chasing it out to sea. He didn’t mention Ned until I asked him about the search.
“How did you know he’d go to the summerhouse?”
“It was my den when I was a boy.” He shrugged. “Somewhere I used to go and hide.”
“He’s such a sensitive little soul,” I said. “It must be so hard for him, hearing the others call Merle ‘Mummy.’ He must wonder what’s happened to his own parents.” I was aware that I was venturing into dangerous territory. But I couldn’t forget the look I’d seen in Jack’s eyes when he was carrying Ned through the woods.
“Merle told you how he came to be here?” He bent down to ruffle Brock’s fur, avoiding my eyes.
“She told me that a man approached you on the quayside on Guernsey. She said he begged you to take Ned because his wife was in hospital.”
Jack nodded. “But you don’t believe that.”
The silence hung in the air like dust motes. It was as if he’d peeled back my eyes and looked inside my head. I felt as if I were back in the convent, caught unawares, not certain which rule I had broken.
“You know, don’t you?” His voice was almost a whisper. “I saw it in your face when you came through the trees.” He looked up, straight at me. “I don’t know how you know. But you do.”
My body reacted before my brain had fully grasped what he was saying. Gravity went into reverse, my stomach lurching toward my chest. He was telling me that what I’d tried not to believe was true. Morwenna wasn’t just a girlfriend he’d loved and lost. She was the mother of his child. Ned was his son.
“I . . . I found a photograph,” I mumbled.
He searched my face, his dark eyes glinting silver in the fading light. It was like watching a thunderstorm, waiting for the explosion. “Where?”
“In the bureau in the library.” I tried to swallow but my mouth was so dry I couldn’t. “I wasn’t prying, I promise. It was before I started the radio work. Merle had sent me to fetch stamps.” My voice was croaky. I coughed and tried again. “When I couldn’t find them in the pigeonholes, I spotted a drawer. It wouldn’t shift at first. Then it shot open. There was an envelope inside.”
I thought he’d be furious that I’d opened what had clearly been a private letter, addressed to him. But he said nothing. Just went on watching me.
“I guessed who the girl was,” I continued. “Leo Badger had told me about her—her name, and what she looked like.”
A flicker of something creased the skin between his eyebrows. A mixture of surprise and indignation. I realized that I’d fanned the flames, letting out that people had been gossiping about him.
“When I saw the baby’s name, and the date, I . . .” I faltered. “I’m sorry. It was none of my business. I shouldn’t have looked inside the envelope.”
He closed his eyes and drew in a breath. “I shouldn’t have left it there. It was careless. And it was na?ve of me to think that people in the village wouldn’t know about her.” His eyes snapped open. “What exactly did Leo Badger say?”
“Well, he . . .” I hesitated. I felt bad about revealing the source of the gossip. I hoped it wouldn’t have repercussions for Leo. “He only mentioned her because he saw a resemblance with me,” I replied. “I almost laughed when he said it—even with my scarf on, I look as if I’ve had an argument with a sheepshearer—but according to him, I have the same eyes and the same ‘fairy look,’ as he put it.”
“Hmm. Did he say where he’d seen her?”
“On your boat. He’d spotted you together when he was out fishing.” I didn’t want to humiliate him by repeating Leo’s actual words. “He told me she worked as a maid in a village along the coast—and that a maid wasn’t the sort of girl someone like you would be expected to marry. I asked what had happened to her, and he said she’d gone away, to work in Devon, he thought.”
He shook his head. “I wish to God she had,” he murmured.