‘A Stolen Moment in Time’ by Mary Wood

16th November 2023

On this cold, but sunny day of January 1940, Olivia gazed out of the window of what should have been a busy language school. But the dream that she and Hendrick had dreamt for their future here in this old farmhouse on the coast of her beloved Guernsey, was in tatters.

Loneliness, not dreams were now her constant companion since Hendrick had been summoned to become an interpreter and translator for the war mongering machine of Germany, his native country.

Though a British citizen, having been brought up in Guernsey by an aunt, Hendrick had been compelled to agree to obey the order under the threat of the death of his father, a known dissident. But he hated the Nazi regime and put his own life at risk to pass secrets to her, which she relayed to her friend Annie in London, and which helped the British war effort.

Fear for her beloved husband trembled through Olivia at this thought as she watched the sea lick the sands with gentle splashes of its swell – something that she’d always loved to look upon, but now the vast, endless ebb and flow had become a divide she couldn’t cross to be in the arms of Hendrick.

The shrill ring of the telephone made her jump, but her heart racing wasn’t due to the sudden scare of the sound, but to her hope that it was Hendrick calling her – even if only to give information he’d been party to, as to hear his voice was a link she treasured.

Once they knew the operator had left them, their stilted, polite conversation that gave nothing of interest to listening ears, changed to the heartache they felt.

‘Oh, Olivia, my darling, I am missing you so much.’

The tears that had trickled at the sound of his voice, now flooded Olivia’s face as he spoke the words that she’d so longed to hear: ‘I must see you, darling, and I have a plan.’

‘Oh, Hendrick, is it possible? Can we really find a way?’ Olivia held her breath, the fingers on her free hand clenched as she waited.

‘I believe so. I know I won’t be welcome back in Guernsey, as you have said that I am looked upon as a traitor, but what about the island of Sark? No one knows us there.’

‘But how?’

‘I’ve been granted leave, which I have taken next week. I have permission to take a trip to Switzerland. But I won’t stay there. I’ll use my Guernsey passport and drive through to France and charter a boat from there. If the British, who are in France, stop me, my Guernsey passport will keep me safe. And if the German’s do, I will use my official papers and my leave of absence ticket. It’s perfect, darling. We can spend at least four days together.’

The possibility became a truth to Olivia as she said, ‘And I could easily get away with saying I need a break and with the world in turmoil, it would be such a natural thing to go to Sark for a change of scenery. Especially as I’ve never visited before even though it is one of the Channel Islands linked to Guernsey. . . ‘But, oh, Hendrick. Are you sure it’s safe?’

After giving her more precise details as to when, Hendrick said, ‘Let’s just do it, my darling. I love you and want to hold you.’

The line crackled and then went dead. Olivia sank into the chair next to where the telephone sat on a half-moon shaped table. It was as if a whirl wind had struck her. It took her a moment to let everything sink in. My God! Hendrick is coming! I’m going to be in his arms! 

She closed her eyes and relived the last time that had happened as they’d stood on the portside, clinging to each other with despair in their hearts just before Hendrick boarded the ferry.

Her tearful gaze fell on the picture of her mother, who’d died at her birth, looking forever young and the image of herself with shoulder length, dark glossy hair, and dark eyes which seemed to be saying: ‘Take every stolen moment in time that you can to be happy.’

Five days later, not having told her father, the owner of a bank in St Peter’s Port, Guernsey, her real reason for going, for fear of worrying him, Olivia stood on the edge of the road that looked over the harbour of the beautiful island of Sark.

Though just a short distance from Guernsey it seemed she was in a different world. Here the pace was slow, and with the main industry being farming, there were no cars only tractors and bicycles.

Pulling her coat around her against the sting of the bitter wind she looked out to sea. On the horizon a boat approached. Her heart thudded her anticipation around her body. Oh, Hendrick, my darling Hendrick.

And then it happened. The boat docked, Hendrick disembarked and ran up the steps of the harbour, around and past the tunnel and down the slope towards her with his arms open, and his face wet with tears.

Her feet lifted off the ground with his hug. He twirled her, before holding her high above him. Her now beautiful world spun around her as she gazed into the face, she loved with all that she was.

When he lowered her, she clung to him, wanted to touch every part of him to know this was real. Cupping his face with her hands she knew the intensity of his love as his eyes looked into hers.

Holding hands, they fought against the wind to reach the horse and cart waiting for them.

With the cart swaying in rhythm with the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, Olivia told Hendrick, ‘I booked us into Stocks Hotel, but they have a burst pipe, so we have moved into cottage that the lady at the post office owns, she lets it for holidays but says it hasn’t been used for over a year.

‘I don’t mind where we stay, as long as we’re together.’

Olivia smiled up at him. Her heart had been full of trepidation when she’d been told that the cottage only had one room with a kitchen at one end and bed that could be partitioned off by a curtain at the other.  And that the toilet was outside and was one that had to be emptied.

But that trepidation had left her when she’d set eyes on the croft – A small, one-storey building standing on the edge of the road, with its white walls gleaming in the low winter sun through brambles that crept around its door and promised the flowering of wild roses in the spring – For, it seemed to her as she gazed at its one window to the side of the door, clad in freshly laundered, pink gingham curtains, to be prettily declaring itself hers and Hendrick’s home for the next few days. She’d fallen instantly in love with it and knew that Hendrick would too.

When they arrived, holding hands, it warmed Olivia’s heart to hear Hendrick say, ‘Is this it? It’s lovely and that smoke curling from the chimney is a welcome sight. I haven’t been warm since I left home . . .I mean, the apartment that I exist in! Oh, Olivia, my dearest, I wish we could stay here forever!’

She tightened her grip on his hand and swallowed hard. So many tears to shed. Tears she let flow every night in the privacy of her bedroom. But they were sad tars. Now happy tears blurred her vision.

Inside, the fire she’d lit earlier, roared up the chimney and its heaven-sent warmth set about tackling their chilled bodies. Cosy, and nice-shabby, rather than dilapidated, this one main room was furnished with a huge faded-pink sofa. A patchy, rose-patterned rug and a table and chairs that shone with many layers of polish. A pot sink stood in one corner, and next to that; a dresser with white, practical china displayed on its shelves. On the other side of this, a door stood ajar showing that it was a larder with shelves and a cold slab for meats and milk. And to the left of them stood a bed, shielded by a pink curtain.

The fire served as a cooker too, having a warming oven and a hot oven as well as a grate plate that swung over the flames. On this a kettle bubbled away, its lid rattling a greeting.

Feeling a sudden shyness that surprised her, Olivia said, ‘I’ll make tea, I have it ready for us.’

This wasn’t what she wanted to do. She wanted to be in Hendrick’s arms and have him kiss her from the tip of her head to the soles of her feet. She caught her breath as this thought zinged a feeling through her that was familiar, longed for, and yet almost a distant memory.

Hendrick’s hand clasped hers staying her progress.

The words she’d imagined her mother to have said came to Olivia, as she looked into his eyes and saw the love that they held for her. And as he gently guided her towards the pink curtains, she knew she had made the words come true as she was filled with happiness – she had taken ‘A stolen moment in time’.

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