Finding Rebecca: A Novel of Love and the Holocaust by Eoin Dempsey Page B
Authors: Eoin Dempsey
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didn’t speak, just waited for Rebecca to continue. “Their drinking
is better now, although it seems hard to imagine it could’ve gotten any worse.
I’ve really noticed the effect it’s had on them. They look more like they
should be my grandparents. They were so handsome once, at least from the old
photographs I’ve seen.”
“They were a comely couple.” The next
words strained in his throat. Christopher wanted to tell her how much he missed
her, how much she still meant to him, how beautiful she was, but he kept it
inside. The feelings he had for her felt rough and jagged, as if they were
tearing at his insides like swallowed glass. He knew he should get up and
leave, that it was the only truly sensible thing to do, but it was the one
thing in this situation that he knew he would never happen. He was sitting
beside her on the rock, his hand only inches from hers. It would have been so
easy to touch her. Instead he reached up for a phantom itch on his neck. “It
was such a shock when you left. I remember thinking that life just couldn’t go
on.” He feigned laughing. “It seems so ridiculous now, the things that children
think?” He turned to her with a smile on his face, the smile he thought she
would want to see.
“No, of course not.” She started and
reached across to take his hand but didn’t, instead patting him on the knuckles,
before withdrawing in one clumsy movement. Christopher felt the tension between
them, felt it crawling up his spine into his jaw, which he stretched out before
looking back at her. She was staring out to sea again. “No, Christopher, we
were the center of each other’s world. It’s sweet when you think about it.”
“But we were young then.”
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca answered,
pushing out a breath. “Nothing ever stays the same.”
“That’s funny, I thought nothing ever
changed. It doesn’t seem like anything ever changes on this island.”
“I came back, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, and engaged to be
married. Perhaps you are right after all.” It felt good to reiterate that she
was engaged. It was a boundary for them both to be wary of, for them both to
obey. “So how did you two meet? Where were you?”
Rebecca’s eyes flitted over to his
and then away as she began to speak. “I was working as a waitress in the yacht
club in Southampton. A friend introduced him to me when she heard he was from
Jersey also. I can’t say that I thought much of him at first.” She smiled to
herself, as if for her own benefit, as if she were repeating a story she
practiced many times, and was now reciting to him. “But he wore me down, like
every man does, I suppose. He found out where I lived and sent me flowers, and
even befriended Peter to get to know me better.”
“What’s he like? I hear his parents
are very well thought of around the island. I’ve never met them myself, but my
father has.”
“He’s not as outgoing as they are. He’s
shy, and can be rather serious, I suppose, but he was so good to us in England
when we really needed him. I’m sure he’ll make a wonderful husband.”
Christopher resisted temptation to
say anything other than, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. What about you? You must
have every single girl on the island chasing after you. You’ve grown up so
handsome,” she said. Christopher felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder and
just as quickly it was gone. Her face reddened a little and she coughed.
“Oh yes, every girl on the island.
It’s tough you know, trying to keep them from waking my family at night.
There’s so many of them camped outside my house. They even have their own
little town amongst the tents, Christopherville, I believe they call
is better now, although it seems hard to imagine it could’ve gotten any worse.
I’ve really noticed the effect it’s had on them. They look more like they
should be my grandparents. They were so handsome once, at least from the old
photographs I’ve seen.”
“They were a comely couple.” The next
words strained in his throat. Christopher wanted to tell her how much he missed
her, how much she still meant to him, how beautiful she was, but he kept it
inside. The feelings he had for her felt rough and jagged, as if they were
tearing at his insides like swallowed glass. He knew he should get up and
leave, that it was the only truly sensible thing to do, but it was the one
thing in this situation that he knew he would never happen. He was sitting
beside her on the rock, his hand only inches from hers. It would have been so
easy to touch her. Instead he reached up for a phantom itch on his neck. “It
was such a shock when you left. I remember thinking that life just couldn’t go
on.” He feigned laughing. “It seems so ridiculous now, the things that children
think?” He turned to her with a smile on his face, the smile he thought she
would want to see.
“No, of course not.” She started and
reached across to take his hand but didn’t, instead patting him on the knuckles,
before withdrawing in one clumsy movement. Christopher felt the tension between
them, felt it crawling up his spine into his jaw, which he stretched out before
looking back at her. She was staring out to sea again. “No, Christopher, we
were the center of each other’s world. It’s sweet when you think about it.”
“But we were young then.”
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca answered,
pushing out a breath. “Nothing ever stays the same.”
“That’s funny, I thought nothing ever
changed. It doesn’t seem like anything ever changes on this island.”
“I came back, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did, and engaged to be
married. Perhaps you are right after all.” It felt good to reiterate that she
was engaged. It was a boundary for them both to be wary of, for them both to
obey. “So how did you two meet? Where were you?”
Rebecca’s eyes flitted over to his
and then away as she began to speak. “I was working as a waitress in the yacht
club in Southampton. A friend introduced him to me when she heard he was from
Jersey also. I can’t say that I thought much of him at first.” She smiled to
herself, as if for her own benefit, as if she were repeating a story she
practiced many times, and was now reciting to him. “But he wore me down, like
every man does, I suppose. He found out where I lived and sent me flowers, and
even befriended Peter to get to know me better.”
“What’s he like? I hear his parents
are very well thought of around the island. I’ve never met them myself, but my
father has.”
“He’s not as outgoing as they are. He’s
shy, and can be rather serious, I suppose, but he was so good to us in England
when we really needed him. I’m sure he’ll make a wonderful husband.”
Christopher resisted temptation to
say anything other than, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. What about you? You must
have every single girl on the island chasing after you. You’ve grown up so
handsome,” she said. Christopher felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder and
just as quickly it was gone. Her face reddened a little and she coughed.
“Oh yes, every girl on the island.
It’s tough you know, trying to keep them from waking my family at night.
There’s so many of them camped outside my house. They even have their own
little town amongst the tents, Christopherville, I believe they call
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