Page 47 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

As she said it, a voice in her head said that the last ferry to the abbey of the season had made its final trip.

She would not see Abbot Gerard again until next May.

The thought felt like a small dagger through her heart.

I mustn’t think about him, she told herself.

It’s not right. She could take the speedboat, of course, but then she would be compromising him in his position as abbot.

The monks would talk. Make suppositions. And she couldn’t risk that.

There had been little interest in Saint-Benet from the new puppet government. Perhaps they didn’t even know it existed. Perhaps they didn’t care. Ellie and Mavis with help from Bruno harvested a bumper crop of fruits and vegetables and used every available jar to preserve them.

“Let’s hope they don’t decide to ration sugar,” Mavis said.

“I had a hard time getting any when I put in my last order to the delivery lorry,” Ellie said. “I suppose it’s to be expected, isn’t it? Sugar has to be imported from the colonies, and merchant ships are being sunk all the time.”

“Well, these jars will keep you going for a while,” Mavis said.

“Keep us going,” Ellie replied. “I want you to come and help yourself whenever you like.”

The news got worse. Bombing against England had intensified.

It seemed inevitable that the invasion would start soon and that Britain would be unable to resist. The radio had become less reliable as a source of news.

It wasn’t always easy to pick up the BBC, and French radio now played patriotic music and propaganda.

It felt as if everyone in Saint-Benet was walking around holding their breath for what might happen next.

And in October they found out. Every person over the age of sixteen was instructed to register at the local town hall for an identification card and a book of coupons. Rationing had begun. Most food items were now on ration, if they were available. Ellie’s worst fears were realized.

“So what will you do?” Roland asked her when she was lunching with him. He had spent a quiet summer in Saint-Benet, as most of his usual guests were now prisoners in the occupied zone, and he welcomed her company.

“I don’t really know,” Ellie said. “I won’t get an identity card or a ration book.

I suppose I’m an enemy alien. If they come for me, they could take me to one of the camps they are setting up.

If I lie low here, maybe I can escape notice, but I won’t be able to buy any staples.

I suppose I’ll be all right. I’ve milk and eggs and plenty of produce from the garden.

I could go down to the dock and do some fishing, but I will need flour and fats, and sugar would be nice. ”

He sat there looking at her. “I am concerned for you,” he said. “You may think you are safe here, but someone will betray you.”

“Not here in Saint-Benet, surely?”

“Even here in Saint-Benet there are Nazi sympathizers, I am sure. And those who might do something immoral for an extra handout of food or petrol. No, chère Ellie, I do not think you are safe here.”

“Then what do you suggest?” she asked. “That I try to make my way to Spain? We’ve no guarantee that they’d admit me. They might be happy to hand me over to the Germans.”

Roland was sitting in one of the silk-upholstered armchairs. He leaned back, took a long draw on his cigarette in its ebony holder, then said, “I suppose I could always offer to marry you, if that’s what it takes.”

Ellie looked at him in utter surprise, then laughed. “Oh Roland, you don’t have to be that noble. I know you have absolutely no interest in marrying me. I’m almost old enough to be your mother.”

“You would not have to worry,” Roland said. “I assure you that I would not want any so-called marital rights. It would be purely a marriage of convenience.”

Ellie reached out and touched his hand. “It is very, very sweet of you to think of such a thing, and I am touched. But I could not put you at risk, and I would not want you to be responsible for me in any way.” She paused.

“Besides, I’m sure your family would have a fit if they learned of it.

Fifty-one years old and divorced? I would not be the daughter-in-law they had chosen. ”

He had to smile at this. “No, you would raise some eyebrows, I assure you. But it need not be a permanent thing. When this cursed war is over we get a quiet divorce and go our ways, yes?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, dear Roland. I suppose I’m romantic and old-fashioned, but I’d like to marry someone I loved.”

He looked relieved. “Alors, I made the offer. It still stands if you change your mind.”

As she walked back to the villa, she wondered if she was mad not to have taken him up on it.

She had to admit that it would solve a lot of problems. She’d get a ration card, an identity card, and be a respectable French citizen.

She’d also be a viscountess. That was a heady thought.

For a second she pictured her mother’s face.

So you finally managed to marry well. Tempting.

But she suspected that it was an offer made spur of the moment and one he’d soon regret.

So would his family if he died first and she inherited a fortune and a chateau.

Mavis thought she was quite barmy. “You could have been one of them aristocrats,” she said. “I’d have had to curtsy to you. And you could have lived in that bloody great chateau and had servants to wait on you.”

“I don’t think Roland went as far as suggesting that I move in with him,” Ellie said.

“That would be some kind of weird marriage if you kept separate houses,” Mavis said.

“I suspect Roland enjoys his isolation. I’m sure he’d be difficult to live with. He does like everything just so and his own way. And he is prejudiced and opinionated.”

“Even so ...” Mavis shook her head. “Now what will you do?”

“I’ve no idea, Mavis,” Ellie said. “Wait and see what happens next, I suppose.”