“I’m in love with you, so I thought I’d ask.”
And then, Dawsey, dear Dawsey, swore. He took the Lord’s name in vain. “My God, yes,” he cried, and clattered down that stepladder, only his heels hit the rungs, which is how he sprained his ankle.
I kept to my scruples and did not look inside the room, tempted though I was. I waited. It was quiet in there, so I came on home to think.
What good was training my eyes if I could not see things rightly? I had got everything wrong. Everything. It came out Happy, so happy, in the end, but no thanks to me. I don’t have Miss Marple’s insight into the cavities of the human mind. That is sad, but best to admit it now.
Sir William told me there were Motorcycle Races in England—silver cups given for speed, rough riding, and not falling off. Perhaps I should train for that—I already have my bike. All I’d need would be a helmet—maybe goggles.
For now, I will ask Kit over for supper and to spend the night with me so that Juliet and Dawsey can have the freedom of the shrubbery—just like Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.
17th September, 1946
Dear Sidney,
Terribly sorry to make you turn around and come right back across the Channel, but I require your presence —at my wedding. I have seized the day, and the night too. Can you come and give me away in Amelia’s back garden on Saturday? Eben to be Best Man, Isola to be Maid of Honor (she is manufacturing a gown for the occasion), Kit to throw rose petals. Dawsey to be Groom.
Are you surprised? Probably not—but I am. I am in a constant state of surprise these days. Actually, now that I calculate, I’ve been betrothed only one full day, but it seems like my whole life has come into being in the last twenty-four hours. Think of it! We could have gone on longing for one another and pretending not to notice
Is it unseemly to get married so quickly? I don’t want to wait—I want to begin at once. All my life I thought that the story was over when the hero and heroine were safely engaged—after all, what’s good enough for Jane Austen ought to be good enough for anyone. But it’s a lie. The story is about to begin, and every day will be a new piece of the plot. Perhaps my next book will be about a fascinating married couple and all the things they learn about one another over time. Are you impressed by the beneficial effect of engagement on my writing?
Dawsey has just come down from the Big House and is demanding my immediate attention. His much- vaunted shyness has evaporated completely—I think it was a ploy to arouse my sympathies.
Love,
P.S. I ran into Adelaide Addison in St. Peter Port today. By way of congratulation, she said “I hear you and that pig-farmer are going to regularize your connection. Praise the Lord!”
Acknowledgments
The seed for this book was planted quite by accident. I had traveled to England to research another book and while there learned of the German Occupation of the Channel Islands. On a whim, I flew to Guernsey and was fascinated by my brief glimpse of the island’s history and beauty. From that visit came this book, albeit many years later.
Unfortunately, books don’t spring fully formed from their authors’ foreheads. This one required years of research and writing, and above all, the patience and support of my husband, Dick Shaffer, and my daughters Liz and Morgan, who tell me that
In addition to this small cluster of supporters at home, there was a much larger group out in the world. First and in some ways most important were my friends and fellow-writers Sara Loyster and Julia Poppy, who demanded and beguiled and cajoled—and read every word of the first five drafts. This book truly would not have been written without them. Pat Arrigoni’s enthusiasm and editorial savoir-faire were also instrumental in the early stages of writing. My sister Cynnie followed lifelong tradition in urging me to buckle down to work, and, in this case, I appreciate it.
I am grateful to Lisa Drew for directing my manuscript to my agent, Liza Dawson, who combines kindness, patience, editorial wisdom and publishing know-how to a degree I would not have believed possible. Her colleague Anna Olswanger was a source of a number of excellent ideas, for which I am in her debt. Thanks to them, my manuscript found its way to the desk of the amazing Susan Kamil, an editor both profoundly intelligent and deeply humane.
I am also grateful to Chandler Crawford, who brought the book first to Bloomsbury Publishing in England and then turned it into a worldwide phenomenon, with editions in ten countries.
I must tender special thanks to my niece, Annie, who stepped in to finish this book after unexpected health issues interrupted my ability to work shortly after the manuscript was sold. Without blinking an eye, she put down the book she was writing, pushed up her sleeves, and set to work on my manuscript. It was my great good luck to have a writer like her in the family, and this book could not have been done without her.
If nothing else, I hope these characters and their story shed some light on the sufferings and strength of the people of the Channel Islands during the German Occupation. I hope, too, that my book will illuminate my belief that love of art—be it poetry, storytelling, painting, sculpture, or music—enables people to transcend any barrier man has yet devised.
It was my good fortune to enter into this project armed with a lifetime of my aunt Mary Ann’s stories and the editorial acumen of Susan Kamil. Susan’s strength of vision was essential in making the book what it wanted to be, and I am truly privileged to have worked with her. I salute her invaluable assistant editor, Noah Eaker, as well.
I am grateful, too, to the team at Bloomsbury Publishing. There, Alexandra Pringle has been a paragon of patience and good humor, as well as a font of information about how to address a duke’s offspring. I particularly appreciate Mary Morris, who dealt gracefully with a gorgon, and the marvelous Antonia Till, without whom British characters would be wearing pants, driving wagons, and eating candy. In Guernsey, Lynne Ashton at the Guernsey Museum and Art Gallery, was most helpful, as was Clare Ogier. Finally, I extend very special thanks to Liza Dawson, who made it all work.
