Shadows on the Sea Read online

  “Thanks for supper,” Jill said to Wendy and Adrie.

  “Yes, thank you,” Nana said as she stepped outside. “It was delicious.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed the squab,” Adrie said. “I got it fresh from a gentleman who raises them for restaurants. You met him when you fell off your bicycle, Jill. Remember? I didn’t know him at the time, but I’ve decided to order squab from him on a regular basis.”

  “I remember him only too well.” Jill followed her grandmother to the sidewalk and got into the car.

  Nana was about to step off the curb to get into the driver’s seat, when someone called out, “Yoohoo! Elizabeth!”

  “Hello, Ida!” Nana said. “Come meet my granddaughter.”

  Ida Wilmar lumbered toward them, puffing a little. She peeked into Jill’s window. “My, my, so this is Jill. She looks much like you, Elizabeth.” The woman’s voice boomed and Jill detected a strong accent.

  “How do you do,” Jill said.

  “Nice, thank you,” Mrs. Wilmar said pleasantly. “I hope you’ll come visit me some time while you’re here, Liebchen.” She turned back to Nana. “Now, Elizabeth, I need to ask you something about our next meeting. I understand …” At that moment a noisy truck drove by. Jill strained to hear but could not make out the conversation.

  After the truck had passed, Jill heard Nana say, “Well if you feel that’s the best way. We’ll keep it a secret as usual.”

  Before Ida waved and walked away, Jill clearly recognized her last word to Nana.

  “Sonnabend!”

  The Kelpie

  Jill’s heart raced and her hands shook so badly that the monkeys on her bracelet jingled. Sonnabend. Jill couldn’t keep silent another second. “Nana,” she demanded, when her grandmother finally got into the car. “What were you talking about with Mrs. Wilmar?”

  “We were just planning our next get-together,” Nana said, starting the engine.

  “What does sonnabend mean?”

  Nana frowned. “Hmm, there’s a funny sound in this engine. Do you hear it? I wonder if I should have the spark plugs cleaned. I’d hate to get stuck somewhere.”

  Jill sank back into the seat, shut her eyes, and didn’t speak again all the way home. Nana was avoiding her question. That proved something was very wrong.

  Back at the house, Jill helped Nana take the packages out of the car. Nana noticed Jill’s silence and asked, “Don’t you feel well?” Jill looked away but Nana gently turned her chin, forcing Jill to look into her eyes. “You’re so quiet. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You tell me, Nana!” Jill had to control her quivering voice. “You didn’t answer me when I asked you before. What does sonnabend mean?”

  “I must not have heard you.” Nana looked puzzled. “Why, I don’t know what it means. Where did you hear that word?”

  “Ida Wilmar said it to you.”

  “Then it’s probably German. I’ll ask her, if you want me to.”

  “No, never mind.” Jill felt close to tears.

  “Why is it so important?”

  “It’s not important.” Jill gathered up her parcels from Miller’s and headed for the stairs. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

  “You’ve had a busy day, Jill. I hope you feel better in the morning.”

  Jill paused on the stairs. “Thank you for the clothes. They’ll be nice for the clambake.”

  “You’re welcome.” Nana looked perplexed and a little sad.

  Jill closed her bedroom door and tossed the new clothes on a chair. She threw herself on the bed and gathered the pillow into her arms. She loved Nana, but what was going on between her and Ida Wilmar that was such a secret? Why wouldn’t she answer when Jill questioned her about the word sonnabend?

  She rubbed the three monkeys. Maybe her scary thoughts were her own doing—seeing and hearing evil. She’d had so many suspicions about Clayton Bishop, and now she found he really did raise squab. Hadn’t she eaten them for supper herself? And Nana was the sweetest person on earth. She couldn’t be involved in anything bad. Still, what secret did she share with Ida Wilmar?

  Everything was all mixed-up. Jill cradled her head into the cool pillow. From her open window she could hear the waves crashing against the rocks as she fell into a fitful sleep.

  In her dreams she was on the widow’s walk. The wind whipped around her and clouds flew across the face of a full moon. Suddenly a wail came from the ocean. Jill fearfully turned her gaze to the dark waves and the shadows that rose and fell on the night sea.

  A misty form took shape and sprang from the surf—a black horse, its mane tossing and tangling in the wind, its bloodred eyes blazing!

  Slowly the horse dissolved into another black shadow. Adrie now stood on the waves smiling and beckoning to Jill—and glowing on her finger was her ruby ring.

  Jill was startled from her sleep by a door opening. “Jill, your mother is on the telephone,” Nana called. “Hurry now. Her time is limited.”

  Jill darted from her bed and ran to the hall telephone. “Mom! Mom! Where are you?”

  “I’m in Grand Falls, Jill.” Her voice was faint over the crackling of the wires. “Uncle Cliff died yesterday.” There was a long pause, and Jill knew her mother was crying.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry,” she said, tears springing to her own eyes.

  “It’s all right, Jill. I just needed to hear your voice. Once the funeral is over and things get straightened out here, I’ll be coming back. I miss you so much.” Her voice went loud and soft and was mixed with static.

  “Mom, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that I was so mean to you … I miss you! Please come home soon …” The noisy interference drowned out her voice.

  The operator interrupted. “Your three minutes are up.”

  “Mom, did you hear me? Don’t hang up!”

  But the call had been disconnected.

  Jill hung up the receiver and turned to her grandmother. “Nana, I was so mean to Mom before she left! I was mad ’cause she wouldn’t take me with her.” She tried not to cry. “I told her … she cared more about … Uncle Cliff than me!” Jill went to her grandmother’s outstretched arms and buried her face in Nana’s soft chenille bathrobe. “I wouldn’t even throw her a kiss goodbye!”

  “It’s all right, dear,” Nana crooned, rocking her. “I’m sure your mother understands.”

  “Suppose her ship was torpedoed and I could never tell her I was sorry …” Jill’s tears were overflowing. “I’m so glad she called …” Jill stammered between sobs. “And I tried to tell her I was sorry … but the connection went bad. She never heard me.” Jill looked up at Nana. “She was crying.”

  “She just lost her brother, Jill. But you’re her guiding star and you can be sure she’ll do everything to get back to you as soon as she can.” Nana pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped Jill’s tears. After a while, Nana whispered. “Let’s go have us a cup of tea.”

  Jill nodded and hugged her grandmother. How could she ever have had doubts about Nana and her friends?

  In the kitchen Nana soon had the kettle singing and Jill began to feel better. She sipped tea and munched on molasses cookies. Then, noticing the clock, she exclaimed, “It’s three in the morning. What time is it in Newfoundland?”

  “Four-thirty. Your mother must have been able to get a ride out to Grand Falls, where there’s a telephone. Then she would have had to wait her turn until she could get through to you. Remember? Sometimes it takes hours to get a long distance operator and connections, because of the war.”

  “Well, I’d stay up all night to talk to her. Oh, it was so good to hear her voice—even though she sounded far, far away.”

  After their tea, they each went back to bed, and Jill, wide awake now, began to think about her mother’s trip home. Once more Mom would have to cross the Gulf through the waiting German submarines.

  Jill recalled her dream. The kelpie had come to her tonight. The kelpie always warned of a coming disaster at sea!


  Keep in the Sunlight

  Jill slept fitfully until the midmorning sun drifted through the curtains. Sarge climbed onto her bed, purring and kneading the blanket. “I give up,” she said. “I can’t sleep around here!” She scratched Sarge’s head and whispered, “Mom is coming home soon.” She looked out the window and breathed in the salt air as she surveyed the morning sky and sea.

  “That was just a silly dream about the kelpie last night,” she told the cat. “Troubles always seem scarier at night.”

  She dressed quickly into comfortable shorts and a shirt. Then she hung up her new clothes from Miller’s.

  Downstairs, Nana had a dish of blueberries and toast waiting for her. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked. “Better?”

  Jill nodded and slid into the chair. “I’m worried about Mom, Nana.”

  “Ben Franklin once said, ‘Do not anticipate trouble or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.’ Did you know butterflies fly only on warm, sunny days?”

  “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “Have you ever seen one flying around on a rainy day? Think about it.”

  “I guess you’re right, Nana. I never have.”

  “Everything will be all right in the big picture of things, Jill. Meanwhile, keep your thoughts in the sunlight where it’s bright and promising, and you’ll fly too.”

  “I worry about things too much, just like everyone says. I worried when I heard that German word Ida said to you.”

  Nana stood up. “I’ve been trying to remember what Ida might have said yesterday when you overheard that word. She and I were talking about changing the night of our next get-together to Saturday instead of Sunday. I’d like to be here with you on Sunday when your dad sings on the radio. That’s what we were talking about, honey. You probably heard Ida say ‘Saturday’ in German.”

  Jill nodded. But what about keeping the secret? She distinctly remembered Nana saying something about “keeping it a secret as usual.”

  “Saturday is the clambake. Won’t you be going?” Jill asked.

  “I’ll probably go straight to Ida’s. Oh, Jill, I meant to tell you—Quarry’s father came over early this morning and took your bike. He’s going to fix it and bring it back later today.”

  “That’s nice of him. Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet him.” Jill looked at the wall calendar. “Nana, tonight is the tea with the Crystals. I don’t want to go, but I promised Wendy.” She got up and went to the back door. “I’m going to check the pigeon and then do some bird-watching up on the widow’s walk.”

  “I’ll just stack the dishes in the sink and then go down to the point and paint.”

  When Jill opened the garage door, she frightened the bird, which flew around the shed and settled high on a beam. She poured fresh water into the dish, sprinkled seed over the workbench, then went up to the widow’s walk.

  Jill spent the morning on the lookout, scanning the town. She could see Quarry’s bicycle in the rack outside Guy’s grocery store. The binoculars were so strong that she could even zero in on the flag in the window—the one with the single star.

  She aimed the glasses toward Clayton Bishop’s house. His car was in the driveway, and the pump and pigeon coop were clearly visible. She was about to turn away when she noticed that Clayton had come out of the house carrying a basket and heading into the woods.

  Jill watched Clayton until he disappeared into the trees. Then she aimed the binoculars beyond him—toward the rocky ledges that surrounded Frenchman’s Cove. There was something out there on the water heading into the cove from the open sea. It was not much more than a shadow and she caught only a glimpse, because whatever it was moved out of sight behind the craggy cliffs.

  Probably just some fishermen, Jill decided. She refused to let her imagination get out of control today.

  That afternoon, Quarry came over with his father.

  “Hello, Jill. Nice to meet you!” Hugh MacDonald shook her hand, then pulled Jill’s and Quarry’s bicycles out from the back of the truck. “I found an old inner tube in my shed that was hardly ever used. It fit slicker ’n a snail!”

  “Thanks so much!” Jill exclaimed.

  “Now you’re all set to go to the clambake.” Hugh winked at Quarry as he drove off.

  “Did you get to the library?” Jill asked Quarry as soon as they were alone. “Did you find out what Sonnabend means?”

  “Naw, the library was closed yesterday and won’t open the rest of the week ’cause of the holiday.”

  “Quarry, I heard Ida Wilmar use that word last night! Would you believe it? So, I asked Nana if she knew what it meant. She thinks it means ‘Saturday.’”

  “Wait a minute.” Quarry closed his eyes and recited: “Montag, Dienstag, Mittwoch, Donnerstag, Freitag, Samstag, Sonntag.” He opened his eyes. “No, Saturday is Samstag.”

  “You never said you spoke German!”

  “I don’t. I took a year of German in school and flunked. The only thing I remember are the days of the week.”

  “Never mind. At least we know it doesn’t mean Saturday after all.”

  “We’ll find out somehow,” Quarry said. “Have you been up on the widow’s walk? Have you been watchin’ Clayton Bishop’s house?”

  “I saw Clayton walking out toward Frenchman’s Cove this morning. I wonder if we have it all wrong, Quarry. Clayton does raise pigeons for food. I had two of them for supper last night at Adrie’s.”

  “We may be crazier than outhouse rats to suspect anyone of anything!”

  “Do you think we’re imagining things?” Jill asked him.

  “Maybe,” Quarry replied.

  “Maybe not,” Jill insisted.

  Tea with the Crystals

  After supper Jill put on a flowered beige dress and a brown velveteen vest. “It looks a little wintry,” she told Nana, “but it’ll do.”

  “Your outfit looks wonderful with your brown hair and honey eyes,” Nana replied.

  Jill also wore rayon stockings and black patent-leather shoes with semi-high heels that Mom had bought before leather was rationed and which weren’t quite broken in. She carried a matching black patent-leather bag.

  Nana drove Jill to Wendy’s. “You can walk to the church from here and ring me when you’re done with the Crystals,” she said after dropping her off.

  Wendy bounced to the door in her new peasant skirt and blouse. An aqua ribbon was tied in her shining blond hair. Jill was astonished to see Wendy wearing another pair of expensive silk stockings with her multicolored sandals. “Where do you get real silk stockings?” she asked.

  “Adrie gives them to me. Besides, she wants me to make a good impression on the Crystals,” Wendy said. “I’m so excited!”

  Adrie came to the door, her face drawn up in a troubled frown. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Jill. Those girls can be catty and I’d hate to see Wendy get hurt.”

  “I don’t really want to join, but …,” Jill began.

  Wendy interrupted her. “Oh, don’t worry! We’ll get into the Crystals, Aunt Adrie. They’re dying for us to join.”

  “Well, good luck, then.” Wendy’s aunt watched them anxiously, then closed the door behind her.

  As they strolled up Main Street, Wendy paused to look at her reflection in almost every store window, straightening her hair ribbon or adjusting the neckline on her blouse. “Do I look all right?” she asked before they went into the church hall.

  “You look beautiful,” Jill said honestly. “You always do.”

  They entered a large room where tables and chairs had been set up. A group of about thirty girls had already arrived and stood in small groups, talking and laughing. One long table held a huge silver tea set, china cups and saucers, and platters of dainty cookies.

  Elaine O’Brien hurried over. “I’m in charge of greeting prospective members, since I’m the honorable counselor of the Crystals.” She beamed at Jill. “Come in and I’ll introduce you around.”
/>   Elaine led Jill and Wendy to the center of the room and clapped her hands. “Attention, everyone! Attention, please.” The girls stopped talking and turned to stare at the newcomers. “Allow me to introduce you to Jill Winters. She’s the daughter of the famous Drew Winters and she’s staying right here in our own town. She wants to join the Crystals.” Elaine waited while everyone clapped. Then she continued. “I’m hoping Jill will bring her father to one of our events later this summer.”

  Now the entire room broke into wild applause and excited whispers.

  Jill stood stiff and uneasy under the girls’ scrutiny. She wished she had stayed home.

  Elaine stepped back as if seeing Wendy for the first time. “Oh, and this is Wendy Taylor, who also would like to join the Crystals. Wendy is staying with her aunt, Adrie Dekker, who owns the Tearoom Inn.”

  For a moment there was silence—and then a smattering of applause.

  The Crystals quickly surrounded Jill, bombarding her with comments and questions.

  “How wonderful that you’re staying in our town!”

  “How come you’re not on tour with your dad?”

  “I have all your father’s records. Could you get him to autograph them?”

  “Could your dad do a benefit for us? We’d make scads of money if he’d do it.”

  “I love how he sings ‘Rhapsody.’ It’s my favorite song.”

  Wendy stood off to the side. This was not turning out well. She was being completely left out. Jill pushed through the group and stood close to Wendy, trying to include her friend in the conversations.

  Jill was relieved when tea and cookies were served. She and Wendy sat together at a table with Elaine, Betty, and Gloria. Jill remembered how Quarry had spoken of them as “the big three.”

  “So how do you like the Crystals so far?” Gloria asked.

  “Everyone seems friendly. What is the purpose of your club, anyway?” Jill asked. “I mean, I didn’t hear anything about what you do.”

  “We do all sorts of things. We raise money and bake cookies for the servicemen,” Betty answered. “We have war bond drives.”