Forbidden Liaison: They lived and loved for the here and now (12 page)

Izzy had cried so much, she fell asleep, only to be awoken sharply when she heard someone at the door. It was Heinrich, he was calling out for her. She got up and went to draw back the bolts at the same time he turned his key in the lock.

‘Why did you bolt the door?’ Heinrich asked, stepping inside. Then seeing her eyes red and swollen asked, ‘Are you alright, what’s happened?’

Izzy sobbed. ‘It’s Benjy, he’s out back, on the grass. He’s dead. I touched him, he felt so cold. Someone’s killed him.’

Heinrich pulled Izzy close to comfort her and after kissing her on the head, said, ‘Who would do such a thing?’

Izzy clung to him. ‘Someone who hates me,’ she cried.

Heinrich tried to console her. ‘No one hates you,’ he said.

‘Yes, they do, islanders hate all the women who fraternise with the troops.’ She was still sobbing. ‘Why did they do that to Benjy?’

Heinrich, sweeping back the hair from her wet face to look into her sad eyes said, ‘If it was escaped slave workers they would have taken him with them,’ he said.

Izzy sobbed even more. She knew the slave workers were so desperate for food they would eat anything, even her dog. Heinrich just stood holding onto Izzy thinking who could have done it.

‘If it was a soldier,’ he eventually said, ‘they would have shot him. Benjy must have trusted the person responsible to let him or her get close enough to do what they did.’

Izzy caught her breath. ‘Heinrich, do you love me?’

‘You know I do, with all my heart and strength.’

‘Then promise me you won’t leave me,’ Izzy asked.

‘I can’t promise you that, Izzy, you know I can’t. But I can promise you that when this is all over I will come searching for you,’ he said. Izzy began to cry again. ‘Now, come on, this is no good for you, getting upset like this.’

Izzy looked up at him, he had that stiff look on his face, and a demeanour so unyielding it covered up all his fears and insecurities to make her feel safe for the time being.

‘What are we going to do with him?’ Izzy finally asked. 

‘I’ll take care of him,’ and he went outside after taking off his tunic and putting his cap on the peg by the door.

Izzy followed him out holding up a paraffin lamp that sat in the kitchen ready to light as soon as the electricity went off, which it did, every night. He took a long-handled shovel from the shed and began to dig a hole by a tree that bordered the property, big enough to bury a full-grown German shepherd dog. Heinrich put Izzy to bed after burying the dog and she finally settled to sleep, but he had to cradle her; hold her; and when he tried to get off the bed to go to the lavatory she immediately stirred reaching out for his arms again.

The following morning the alarm bell went off at the usual time, but Heinrich immediately turned it off. Izzy rolled over to face him and she opened her eyes.

‘You’ve had a very fitful night,’ he whispered softly to her.

‘Did I disturb you?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but I didn’t mind,’ he smiled. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Sad that Benjy’s gone,’ she replied. ‘But, happy you’re here.’

Heinrich spread his hand across her belly and kissed her lightly on the mouth, but Izzy wanted more.

‘No,’ he said, pulling away from her. ‘You’ll be late for work.’

Izzy looked at him, he was being deadly serious. ‘Tell me you’re teasing me,’ she said.

‘I am not teasing you,’ and he sat up in bed. ‘I want to stay, too, but I will also be late for my shift,’ and he leapt from the bed.

Izzy could hear him in the kitchen filling a kettle; rattling pots. He appeared with a tray to set it down on the bedside table.

‘I’ve managed to get some proper tea and some biscuits,’ he said smiling.

Izzy smiled too. Then she burst out laughing. ‘You’re becoming rather domesticated,’ she remarked.

Heinrich suddenly took her face in his hands. ‘I love it when you laugh,’ he said.

‘I love it when you make love to me,’ she responded.

‘And I love it when you do as you’re told,’ he said kindly.

‘I never do as I’m told, haven’t you heard? I was always a bit of a rebel. My father wanted a boy; he got a tomboy instead.’

‘I don’t care what you are, you are all mine. Now come on drink your tea,’ he said, pouring it out. ‘And eat the biscuits.’

Izzy did feel a little better after the tea and biscuits, but she was late for work anyway as her bicycle had a flat tyre and Heinrich couldn’t fix it as it was too worn. So as Heinrich walked off down the track towards the town, Izzy took off in the opposite direction, across the fields to the farm.  

‘You’re late again,’ her father shouted as she entered the kitchen.

‘I’m sorry,’ and Izzy soon began to cry. She knew the tears were not only for Benjy, but were also about the temperamental state the first stages of pregnancy left her in. Although she was only two weeks late, she knew she was pregnant.

‘What are you blubbing about, girl?’ her father asked.

‘I’m not blubbing, and I am not a bloody girl,’ Izzy shouted back. ‘I’m, twenty six.’

‘Well start acting like it,’ he retorted.

‘I will, don’t you worry about that,’ Izzy rounded on him, and she turned to leave the farmhouse.

‘Izzy, Izzy,’ her mother ran after her. ‘Izzy don’t go, you need some breakfast.’

‘Food isn’t the panacea for everything, mother.’

Hannah frowned. Izzy realised her mother perhaps didn’t know what the word ‘panacea’ meant. ‘Food is not a cure-all for every ill,’ she explained.

‘Izzy, I’ve been so worried about you these past weeks. You’ve changed.’

‘I’ve grown up, mother. Had to. Alain, too, treated me like a china doll. Wouldn’t talk about anything but mundane everyday matters. Then he would be off to the bar to drink with his political friends, leaving me on the side-line like the fat, frumpy one at a dance.’

‘You’re not fat or frumpy,’ Hannah replied.

‘Mother, I was using metaphor.’

‘Don’t talk to your mother like that,’ Izzy’s father suddenly spoke up.

Hannah remained frowning and Izzy suddenly felt awful for disrespecting her mother. ‘Mother, someone killed Benjy last night.’

Hannah gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. ‘Escaped slave workers?’ she asked.

‘I don’t think so, they wouldn’t have left his body behind, they would have taken him to eat,’ Izzy replied.

Sydney suddenly shot up from his chair at the table and quickly pulled a shotgun from the broom cupboard.

‘What are you doing with that? If the authorities find out they’ll put you in prison,’ Izzy said.

‘I’ve told him on numerous occasions, but will he listen? He’s like you,’ Hannah said, turning to her daughter. ‘Bloody minded and stubborn.’

‘If it wasn’t slave workers, then who was it?’ Sydney asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Izzy replied, but she knew it would be someone who had found out about her relationship with Heinrich.

‘Then I will bloody well find out,’ and Sidney stormed off.

‘Dad, just leave well alone,’ Izzy shouted after him.  

‘Leave well alone? My arse,’ he shouted back and was gone.

Izzy cried. ‘On top of everything else, I really don’t want this, he’s going to get himself into an awful lot of trouble,’ she said to her mother.

‘Well I can’t stop him, never could,’ Hannah said resigning herself to the next tortuous few hours of not knowing where her husband was, or what he was up to.’

Izzy’s father had been gone all day and not a lot was done about the farm. The cows had to be milked, of course, and when Izzy had completed the task she roped in Ollie, the new young farm-hand to help load the lorry. Izzy then gave him more chores to do, until her father returned. Hannah just got stuck in to her usual routine. The day had gone by slowly for Izzy, and Sydney was still not back when it was time for Izzy and Ollie to end their laborious day to finally go home. Izzy walked to the cottage, she felt lost without Benjy at her side. He made her feel safe. She remembered when he was a pup and chewed everything in sight, until he was barred from the house, to be kennelled in the barn. She was nearing the cottage when she caught site of smoke billowing from the chimney, swirling up into the dusky sky. Then as she neared her cottage she saw the flickering glow of a fire coming from the inside. She unlocked the door to find Heinrich crouching in front of the fireplace, poking out ashes to put on more wood. He turned his head when he heard Izzy enter. He smiled broadly as he approached her.

‘Have you had a good day?’ he asked putting his arms around her.

‘No,’ Izzy replied. ‘Dad’s gone off in a huff, trying to find out who killed Benjy, and I just feel so… Have you had a good day?’

‘No, me neither.’

They smiled at each other. The door was locked and bolted. Everything was shut out leaving just the two of them. They hugged and kissed whilst standing in front of the fire. They became so wrapped-up in each other, they didn’t notice the face at the window, glaring in at them.

Izzy appeared at the farmhouse late again. Sydney sat glowering at her over his porridge. Hannah, after many years of a hopelessly unhappy marriage, had become totally stultified by her husband’s moods and behaviour, she shut him out, not wanting him to infect her with the same grumpy disposition his father had, and who had, unfortunately, passed it on to his only son. She had endured the man for years, and now she ignored him, as did her mother-in-law before her. Hannah being the most plain of three sisters, and the last to find herself a husband, had married the first man who had shown some interest. She wanted something different for her daughter, and when she married Alain, she thought Izzy and Alain might settle in France where he taught school. They’d be away from the claustrophobic atmosphere of a small island, and especially farming. But the war had intervened and Izzy was left stuck on the island, while Alan had gone off with all the other men who were young and fit enough to join in the war effort.

As Izzy pulled out a chair to sit down for breakfast, Sydney stood up saying, ‘You will never sit at my table again.’

Izzy frowned. ‘Why? What bee is in your bonnet this morning?’ she retorted rolling her eyes.

‘You should make sure your curtains are pulled properly when you’re entertaining German soldiers, you whore,’ he seethed.

‘Sydney,’ Hannah shouted, ‘don’t you ever call her that again.’

‘You should have seen them; all over each other, they were,’ Sydney seethed.

Hannah looked at Izzy shocked. ‘Izzy is this true?’

Izzy just nodded.

‘How many have there been?’ her father shouted, his face turning beetroot red with anger. If he wasn’t careful he would have a heart attack, Izzy thought.

‘There’s only ever been one,’ Izzy replied, looking at her mother who had tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘Get out,’ Sydney shouted. ‘Get out of my house, and don’t come back. I want nothing more to do with you.’

‘Sydney, she’s our daughter,’ Hannah pleaded. ‘You can’t,’ she added as the pain of being parted from her daughter suddenly struck.

‘She’s no daughter of mine, and I can, and I will,’ and he took hold of Izzy’s upper arm and marched her out through the door to slam it shut in her face. ‘And if she ever comes here again, and you let her in, I will do the same to you,’ he said sitting down to finish his porridge.

Hannah, knowing it was no use arguing with him, he always had to have the last word: the last say: the one who always had to rule the roost: just sat down opposite, dabbing at the silent tears that dripped into her porridge.

‘You cannot do this,’ Hannah said softly. ‘She’s stubborn like you, she’ll never give in.’

Sydney stood up, crashing his chair against the gas cooker. ‘Don’t ever mention her name or even talk about her in this house again. And if I find you’ve been seeing her I will…’

Hannah now stood up to confront her husband for the first time. ‘She’s my daughter and I will see her when she or I want. She’s your daughter too, no matter what she’s done.’ Sydney now raised his arm, showing Hannah the flat of his hand. ‘Go on then,’ she said standing defiantly in front of him. ‘Hit me, it will be nothing worse than having to endure your moods, your grumpiness, your thoughtlessness and insensitivity in bed all these years.’

‘This is all your fault, I told you not to spoil her, and this is how you both repay me,’ Sydney shouted.

‘No one owes you anything, Sydney Marshall, I’ve paid my dues; so has Izzy,’ and she took off her apron and flung it onto the table. ‘Want me to leave, too?’ she asked. Sydney didn’t answer. ‘Well do you?’ she shouted.

Sydney looked straight at her, ‘No, I don’t want you to leave, who will do the housework?’ and he stormed out.

Hannah sat down at the table shaking. She’d never stood up to him like that before and now she felt sick. She had won one little battle, but it left them at an impasse, and the only way she could gain a little more ground was to take all her belongings from the bedroom they shared, put them into Izzy’s old room and camp out there for the foreseeable future.

Izzy had nowhere else to go but her aunt’s. She had her cottage, but it was so out of the way, and after Benjy was murdered, she didn’t feel safe there anymore, especially when Heinrich wasn’t there. She crept into her aunt’s through the back door and just stood by the sink. She’d been crying, but it had now ceased as she’d shed enough tears since being thrown off the farm to last her a lifetime. Margaret jumped when she saw Izzy standing there, dressed in her overalls, ready for work.

‘You frightened the living daylights out of me, what are you doing here so early?’ Margaret said. Then seeing Izzy’s face she asked, ‘Is everything alright?’

‘No, everything’s turned to shit,’ Izzy replied. She could shed no more tears. And, anyway, she was too annoyed with her father for spying through her window, it would take her some time to even think about speaking to him again. Then she got angry about Benjy.

‘Someone’s killed Benjy and my father’s thrown me out,’ she said. ‘I have nowhere else to go, and since Benjy was killed at the cottage, and my father has taken to spying on me there, I don’t want to go back there either.’

‘Oh,’ was all Margaret said.

‘I expected they would find out about Heinrich and me, sooner or later, but Mum stood up to him this morning, and he got so angry,’ Izzy informed.

‘If that man hurts one hair on Hannah’s head, I swear I will kill him myself,’ Margaret said as she turned towards the hallway.

Izzy followed and when Margaret picked up the telephone, she asked, ‘What are you doing?’

‘Calling Hannah, just to make sure that oaf hasn’t touched her.’

‘Let me speak to her, please, Aunt Margaret.’

‘Just make sure she’s okay. I’ll deal with you later,’ and she walked off to fuss over Uncle Harry.