The Guernsey Novels by Anne Allen

Author:Anne Allen [Allen, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarnia Press
Published: 2018-10-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-four

Spring 1943

It was if the world around her had disappeared, blown away by unknown and unexpected forces. It was just her and the man in front of her. Olive heard and felt the pounding in her chest as she continued to gaze at him, for what seemed like hours, but was barely seconds.

The officer’s face was inscrutable. The firm mouth remained closed as he returned her gaze. For a moment she thought she saw a flicker of the eyes, soon gone.

He saluted.

‘I am Major Wolfgang Brecht, Fräulein, and am responsible for security in this area. But if it is true that you only wish to go “sticking” as you call it, then I see no harm in it.’ Slowly, as if the muscles of his face were not used to such a thing, he smiled and his eyes brightened.

‘Oh, thank you, Major! I am indebted to you. I promise I’ll be quick, just long enough to fill my basket.’ Olive knew she was grinning like an idiot, wanting to stay there just looking at him. This handsome man with the mesmerising eyes. He was young, perhaps a few years older than her, with the physique of an athlete. He certainly didn’t look half-starved like the other soldiers. When he smiled she saw the normal man within the hated uniform of the enemy. Olive knew she wasn’t meant to like him or worse, find him attractive, but…

He took off his cap and bowed.

‘May I help you with your task, Fräulein? It would mean you trespassing for less time.’ His eyes danced with mischief and she laughed.

‘That’s very kind of you, Major. I usually go over there.’ She pointed further up the path towards the trees.

He replaced his cap and took hold of the handlebars and pushed her bike while she walked alongside.

‘You have the advantage of me, Fräulein. You know my name, but I do not know yours.’ He glanced at her and she felt her face grow hot.

‘It’s Olive. Olive Falla. Mrs Olive Falla.’ She twisted the wedding ring on her finger, wishing it wasn’t there as a symbol of her enslavement.

‘Ah! My apologies, Fräu Falla. I had not seen your wedding ring.’

Olive noticed a frown cross his face and regretted not lying. But he could have found out the truth at any time and where would that have got her? She told herself it made no difference, no matter how attractive she found him, nothing could come of it. Oh, but her insides were turning to liquid and no-one had ever had that effect on her! Certainly not Bill. Even at the beginning of their relationship she hadn’t been as aroused as she was now. When his hand brushed against hers on the handlebars, Olive felt a jolt shoot up her arm. She risked a glance through her eyelashes and found him studying her.

‘Tell me, Fräu Falla, where on the island do you live?’

‘I, rather we, live up the road in St Peters, at Beauregard Farm. Looks down towards Fort Grey, it does.

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