The German Nurse. M.J. Hollows

and he had a lot to do before it had fully risen.

      *

      The Royal Hotel he was looking for was one of the main hotels in St Peter Port, near the harbour with easy access to the ferry and the shops. Prior to the war it had been one of the locations in which people had come to stay when they travelled from the mainland or Europe to experience the beauty of Guernsey. The businesses would surely be struggling to make ends meet, and he wouldn’t be surprised if some of the proprietors joined the evacuation to try to find a new life on the mainland.

      Now, the hotel was a scene of furious activity, as staff piled wooden crates that were normally used for groceries by the entrance. At this time of morning it would have been strange to see so many people at work, were it not for the current circumstances. Whether the staff had volunteered to help, or had been forced to by their employers, Jack didn’t know, but he hoped it was the former.

      ‘I’m looking for Johanna?’ he asked one of the porters as the man dropped another crate on the pile. He waved Jack in the direction of the kitchen behind him and carried on his work without saying a word. As with a number of hotels on the island, the kitchen was in a lower ground floor, accessed by the side of the building allowing easy access for unloading supplies, and there was an almost steady stream of volunteers going back and forth. He dodged one of them as he stepped down the stairs to the main kitchen. There were more people inside working at counters, some in silence, others busy talking amongst themselves. The kitchen smelt strongly of breads, cheeses, and pickles.

      He recognised her straight away, even from behind. It was the way she stood taller than everyone else and worked with a practised efficiency. It struck him that it was similar to the very first time he had laid eyes on her. He smiled to himself as he walked up behind her. She was working on her own at one side of the kitchen, away from the comings and goings of the regular staff.

      ‘Johanna?’ She turned and her smile made him weak at the knees. He had expected her to be angry, but as usual her anger had diminished as quickly as it had come. Her temperament was fiery, and he would not have her any other way. It had taken him a while at first to stop himself thinking that she hated him. In time she had shown him more love and passion than anyone else ever had.

      ‘Jack,’ she said, still smiling up at him and revealing perfect, white teeth. ‘What are you doing here?’

      He stepped closer to her, wanting to take her hands in his, but she was busy working, making sandwiches for the evacuees to take with them on their journey to the mainland.

      ‘I wanted to say … to say.’ He hesitated despite running the words through his head over and over again on the way to the hotel. The lack of sleep was playing with his mind and he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

      ‘Yes?’ she asked, looking up again and nodding at him to continue. Her curly hair had been tied up and there were bags under her eyes that spoke of a lack of sleep. The whites of her eyes were red, which made it look as if she had been crying. He second-guessed himself again. Would she really appreciate what he was trying to say? He convinced himself that her smile was genuine; there was a warmth there despite her tiredness.

      ‘I wanted to say that I don’t want you to leave the island,’ he said, finally blurting out the words in a torrent. ‘I don’t want you to leave, not without me. I want you to stay here with me, and I will give everything to look after you.’

      He couldn’t gauge her reaction. Was it shock? His heart thumped heavily in his chest, and he felt sick. He thought about walking away and forgetting everything he had said, to save himself from the embarrassment. But he could never walk away from her; he didn’t have it in him.

      ‘Oh, Jack,’ she said, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. ‘You should have been a poet, not a policeman.’ He wasn’t sure if she was gently mocking him or not. She wiped away the tears with an index finger, then cleaned her hands on a nearby tea towel. ‘The only thing that makes staying on this island bearable is the thought that I will be with you. Even if most people treat me like an enemy. I’ve been through worse.’

      She tried to smile again, but another wave of tears took over. As always he wondered what it truly was that had happened to her in Germany, but he knew not to push her on the subject.

      With a sudden rush of confidence, he took hold of her, wrapping his arms around her. Her head rested against his chest. It felt natural, as if she was perfectly built to fit into that space, like a piece of a jigsaw. As if God had made them for each other. The smell of her hair was overwhelming. He closed his eyes, breathing her in. ‘I’m going nowhere,’ he said. ‘Not while you’re on the island. When the war is over we’ll be allowed to go to England or wherever we want and live out our lives in peace.’

      They stood together like that for a few minutes, savouring the moment. Opening his eyes, he spotted the clock on the wall and gasped. ‘Look at the time!’ he said, loosening his embrace. ‘I have to go.’

      Johanna laughed, and let go of him. ‘Bah, you’re always running away from me, Jack Godwin.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking between her and the clock. ‘If I didn’t have to get to work, I would stay. You know I would. I can barely stand to be apart from you.’ He bent down to kiss her, but she pulled away at the last second.

      ‘Not here. I will see you later. Take this.’ She picked up a brown, rectangular paper bag from the worktop and handed it to him. ‘Tell no one.’

      ‘What’s this?’ he asked.

      ‘It’s a sandwich. I know you won’t have had anything to eat yet.’ They hugged again, briefly, and he left the kitchen, almost running. Late again, he would be in trouble.

      *

      In the early hours of the morning, the school was dark and forbidding. An uneasy atmosphere rested over it like a black cloud. It was a place for learning, but on this occasion the parents would rather they were kept in the dark. When he had studied there it had been a different time. Parents were already bringing their children to the school, as Jack joined them. They arrived in small groups, sticking together, their short arms reaching up to clutch their parents’ outstretched hands, tighter than they ever had before. Some were going with their children, but for the others, who knew how long they would be separated? None of them could predict how long this war would last, how long it would be before the Germans expended their energy on their enemies’ guns, how long it would take for someone to force them back.

      None of them had been given enough time to prepare, or to soften the blow for the children. The shock was still clear in the eyes of most of the people Jack passed as he headed towards the school. He was careful not to be too present as a policeman; he didn’t want to scare the children. More than one parent had a hastily bundled together collection of belongings to send with their children. Some of their cases had clothes poking out of the seams, ragged and fluttering in the wind. It was a sorry, desperate sight.

      At the school gates, a group of teachers and other officials were checking documents and admitting those children who had the correct papers. As Jack walked up, a mother was hugging her son, who could have only been four or five years old. The officials, seeing Jack’s uniform, stepped aside to let him pass, but he waited for a moment to see what would happen. He could tell that she was trying her best, but tears threatened to escape the corners of her reddened eyes. Her voice broke. Her son simply stared idly around himself, blissfully ignorant of what was going on. ‘Now, you’re going on a great adventure,’ she said. ‘Once you get there your aunt May will be looking after you for a while.’

      She stopped, catching herself again. Jack couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He couldn’t possibly imagine what these parents were going through. How that mother could stand it, he had no idea, but she had put her son’s life ahead of her own, and given the circumstances it was the right thing to do. Had Johanna’s parents gone through the same emotions when she had left her home?

      He smiled at one of the teachers, but it was forced. He felt only sadness. Inside the school was a similar scene, one he suspected was duplicated across the island. Hundreds of children