Gerrit slammed his eyes shut.OhLord,why did I doubt you?
Even if none of the maps had been received, even if Gerrit had been tried as a traitor, his work had merit because he’d done what was good and right—even if no one else had ever known.
“Gerrit?” a woman cried. “Itisyou.”
His eyes flew open, but his mind—what was he seeing? The woman with the tea tray looked like his cousin Cilla, sounded like Cilla. But Cilla was dead.
“Ci—Cilla?”
“Ja, you blind and silly man,” she said in Dutch, laughing, and she tugged him to his feet and embraced him. “Organisation Todt? Jersey? I can’t believe my cautious cousin had a grand adventure.”
He wouldn’t call it an adventure, and he pulled back to study her face. Yes, Cilla’s bright smile and the van der Zee green-blue eyes. “You’re alive.”
Captain Romijn cleared his throat. “I do hate to interrupt, but I need to verify—”
“Yes, Captain.” Cilla hooked her arm through Gerrit’s. “This is my cousin Gerrit van der Zee, a long-standing member of the Dutch resistance, along with our good friend Bernardus Kroon. I already identified Bernardus. I advised him to shave off that ridiculous mustache and told him black hair most definitely does not suit him.” She grinned at Gerrit.
“Thank you. We’ll leave you to your family reunion.” Romijn headed for the door.
Colonel Hargrave gathered Gerrit’s maps, pumped his hand in a firm handshake, and departed.
Gerrit’s head swam, and he braced one hand on the table. “You’re alive. In England. How did you get here?”
Cilla released Gerrit’s arm and fiddled with the hem of a green-blue suit jacket. “By boat.”
How unlike Cilla to give a short answer to what could only be a long story.
“That’s all in the past.” Cilla grabbed both of his hands. “You’ll need to be questioned by a few more people. But then what fun we’ll have. Aleida’s here in England too.”
A four-year-long sigh escaped. “Thank goodness. We knew she and her husband had tried to escape to England, but we’d heard no word, of course.”
“She made it, but her husband was killed in the exodus. She’s married again—to an Englishman. And I married a Scotsman.”
“Mackenzie,” Gerrit murmured. The captain had summoned a Mrs. Mackenzie.
A light grew inside, illuminating his vision. As soon as the various British agencies released him, he planned to marry a Jerseywoman.
chapter
46
Southampton, England
Friday, October 20, 1944
Standing at the rails of the hospital ship, Ivy held on to her ratty old green hat and scanned the pier for Dad and Mum. A stream of ambulances awaited to transport the wounded soldiers and sailors from the ship to hospitals.
“Do you see them?” Charlie said from his wheelchair beside her. He would have a few more weeks in hospital, but his color had returned.
“Not yet.” Ivy peered through the morning haze. Telegrams had flown between Ivy and her mother in the past fortnight. In the telegram Ivy had received before the hospital ship sailed from Cherbourg, Mum said Dad had received leave and they’d both meet the ship.
The medical officers promised Charlie a half hour for the reunion, then they’d shuttle him away.
Hugh Collingwood had generously arranged for Ivy and her parents to stay overnight at his wife’s cousin’s house in Portsmouth. In the morning, Ivy and her mother would take the train to Ivy’sgrandparents’ home, and Dad would return to duty with his regiment.
Charlie chuckled and stretched to see over the rails. “Won’t Dad and Mum be surprised to hear our story?”
“Most definitely.” In her telegrams, Ivy could communicate only the barest details.
