The Book of Lies - By Mary Horlock Page 0,18

and sliding down the wallpaper before nine o’clock, and they all agreed that it was good to see Mum out.

Of course, Guernsey people don’t ever say what they mean. They are an excellent word called Fickle. I know I said that when the Germans took over most people ignored them, but actually the population was split down the middle. Some people stuck their noses in the air and carried on like normal, whilst others made the Germans their friends and may have even helped them. Because of this, there was a lot of bad feeling, although it was never very clear who was good and who was bad because the collaborators covered their tracks, and even accused their neighbours and friends of the very things they’d done. So innocent people were arrested and suffered for no good reason. This is an example of how dangerous gossip can be.

Which means those people who said mean things vis-à-vis Mum’s new career should know better. She shouldn’t have to apologise to anyone. All she wanted was to make something out of what Dad left behind. If people thought she was quick off the mark, well, they didn’t know all the facts and who were they to judge? Poor Mum. Perhaps I didn’t support her enough. I didn’t want to ask if she was A-OK because I didn’t want to make her think she had to explain herself to me. When someone is arrested they’re advised not to say anything because what they say might be taken down and used in evidence against them, and it was a bit like that between us.

Not that Mum was ever arrested.

I took lots of photos at Donnie’s party, which annoyed and irritated everyone. There’s one of the Senners with Nic making bunny ears behind them, and one of Mr McCracken by the buffet. There’s also a good one of Michael Priaulx and his parents. He’s standing apart from them like he’s embarrassed, which I suppose he should be. Michael hated having a policeman for a dad and was often called Piglet because of it. He obviously had a lot to prove, because he was always in trouble. It would’ve been interesting if he’d ever been arrested but, as I think I’ve already mentioned, our local law enforcers believe there is no crime on Guernsey. They therefore only stop people for speeding.

It’s a fascinating fact that during the Occupation there was a very high number of speeding tickets issued. I think that’s hilarious: the police didn’t know how else to stand up to the Nazis, so they fined them for speeding. Of course, now it’s the English who get fined, and Donnie got quite a few, but he didn’t care because he was so riche. He had a nice face but I don’t know how old it was, and he’s almost impossible to recognise in my photos because he always looked different. I was impressed by his shiny skin and slick, black hair, and I thought it was amazing his teeth were so white.

‘So you want to take my photo now, do you?’ He handed me a pitcher of punch. ‘You’re a better subject, though, so much prettier.’

He was the first person ever to call me pretty. Talk about giving candy to a baby (although in this case it was rum). I felt very proud of myself, especially since Nic was there and we’d co-ordinated our outfits perfectly. It was just after Valentine’s Day and Donnie gave us each a rose from his garden, then we walked back into the kitchen, where Michael was helping himself to a beer from the fridge. He tried to open it using the door’s hinge and despite this failing spectacularly I still thought he looked great.

Donnie asked him if he’d been sent any Valentines and he curled his lip seductively.

‘Fucking stupid idea. What’s the point in sending cards telling someone you like them and not bothering to sign your name?’

I blushed because I’d sent him one, as per always.

Nic pulled herself up onto a sideboard and kicked out her legs.

‘Well, Cat’s the one you’ve got to watch. She’s got lots of admirers!’

As if on cue, in walked Mr McCracken.

‘Aha! John McCracken!’ Donnie stretched out his hand. ‘So glad you came. Cathy’s been trying to take my photo. Have you been giving her lessons? I see you out on the cliffs all the time. They are picture-perfect this time of year, don’t you find?’

Donnie waved his glass towards his excellent sea view and

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