Chapter 69

31 December 1944

Helen woke, disappointed to see the small attic window instead of the larger one she had become used to in her bedroom at Daphne's home. She had been dreaming that she and Bobby were back at Sans Souci and it was an effort not to give into her grief. Losing Daphne had been an enormous shock and she missed her and their gentle life together. Each time Bobby asked if they would ever see Aunty Daffy again, her heart broke a little more.

Tony told her he had sent a couple of telegrams to Richard letting him know they were back at the Hamels but she was yet to hear from him. She ached with fear. She would be unable to bear it if anything happened to him. She had lost too many people already and needed Bobby to know his father.

She worried about whether she would ever recover from what she had experienced here. It was at times like these when she had too much time on her hands that her thoughts tormented her. She knew she must remain strong, although it was getting harder to keep her resolve as each day passed.

Instead of things getting better they were already so much worse than they had been the previous summer. There was barely any food, and soaps or detergents were things of the past, as was fuel. The house was cold now that they had run out of things to burn. But worst of all was their lack of hope. Helen suspected that if it wasn't for Bobby she would lie in a dark corner and simply spend her time sleeping. As it was they did sleep more, but only because there was little else for them to do and hunger sapped their energy.

Her feelings were irrelevant, though; she knew she was lucky to have Bobby to keep her despondency at bay. She was luckier than some to have such a precious reason to keep going, because, as difficult as she was finding it, she felt sure this war would end, especially since the Americans had taken back St Malo over three months before. Belgium had been liberated, too, and no doubt other battles would be won by the Allies.

She just hoped the islanders survived long enough to see it happen. She seemed to recall some excitement about a Canadian Red Cross boat bringing in food parcels, but since she and Bobby were in hiding they wouldn't be able to collect one.

Christmas had passed with little celebration, which she didn't mind. They had little to celebrate and nothing to celebrate with. All she wanted was for the days to pass and for them to somehow survive.

She heard excited voices. One of them was Babs's. The girl's enthusiasm for life was greatly diminished but she still managed to keep more upbeat than the rest of them.

‘Mummy?'

Bobby's voice interrupted her thoughts. He pointed to the attic door, just as she heard footsteps. The door opened and Babs appeared. It took a moment for Helen to wonder what was different about her, then she remembered.

‘Have you been out to collect your Red Cross parcel?' She asked, excited for her friends – and for herself and Bobby, because she knew without any doubt that the Hamels would insist on sharing with them.

‘We have, and Mum said you're both to come down. We're not opening them until you two are present downstairs.'

Helen smiled at Bobby. ‘Well then, we'd better go and see what's in the boxes.'

The happy faces that met her and Bobby as they entered the kitchen cheered her, reminding her that happy times were possible.

‘Mummy, look,' Bobby shouted climbing onto a chair and kneeling so he could see what was on the table. He bounced up and down clapping his hands.

‘Careful,' Helen said, trying to calm him. ‘If you fall off that chair and hurt yourself you won't be able to watch.'

‘You can help me open mine,' Ida said, going to stand on his other side. She pulled the box towards Bobby and opened the lid. ‘Have a look inside and take each item out slowly.'

Helen watched proudly as her four-year-old son did as he was asked. He reached in, lifted out one item after another and set them down neatly on the table. Ida gave a running commentary as each box or tin was held up.

‘Five ounces of chocolate. Twelve ounces of biscuits and three of sardines.'

‘I love sardines,' Peggy sighed.

‘I'm salivating over this chocolate,' Babs said, holding the package up to her nose and taking a long, slow sniff of the contents. ‘Heavenly.'

‘Yes, well if you've any sense you'll not wolf it all down in one go,' her mother teased. ‘And don't forget we're to share all this with Helen and Bobby.'

Helen was about to speak, but Peggy put a hand up to her mouth. ‘Don't say whatever it was you were about to, Helen. The three of us will be sharing these things with you. We've gone through this war together, the five of us, and we will continue to do so equally. I won't have any argument, so don't bother trying to persuade us otherwise.'

‘Thank you,' Helen said, certain she would never find better friends than these women.

Ida pointed at the box. ‘Come along, Bobby, what else do we have in there?'

They watched as he took out powdered milk, tins of prunes, salmon, Spam and corned beef. There was raisins, sugar, marmalade, butter, pepper and salt, but what made Helen's heart sing was seeing sugar, cheese and, especially, tea and soap.

‘I've never seen anything so glorious,' she said, picking up the packet of tea and sniffing. ‘Maybe this is the gold at the end of a rainbow.'

Ida was turning the wrapped block of soap in her hand. ‘God bless those who packed these boxes and sent them to us.'

It dawned on Helen as she watched her adopted family enjoying their treats that these Canadian Red Cross parcels meant more to them than just their contents. It was the tangible confirmation that, despite everything they had endured in the past four and a half years, people they had never met cared about them.