The Secret Orphan

by Glynis Peters

  Outside the window she watched a rook settle onto a branch of a tree. The tree brought back a memory of when she was a child. One hot summer one of the farmhands had made a swing for her and had hooked it around the branch. She’d swung high and enjoyed what breeze it created. Elenor also recalled the day she fell off and her mother fussing around her, cheering her up with a slice of fresh-baked apple cake and relieving her of her few chores. So many happy memories needed to be encouraged to swamp out the bad, and with the country at war a positive mind was needed at all times.

  She looked across to the yard where various pieces of farm equipment had been laid out in readiness for inspection. She noticed the old hen house had been expanded and rewired, and one barn was undergoing a roof repair. A few cattle chewed their way around the bottom meadow, and sheep grazed on the top pasture, all under the careful watch of three retired men from the village. The manager of Tre Lodhen had volunteered his services to the King and left the day after she’d arrived. Elenor knew she needed to consider her staffing options once she had the place running to full capacity.

  An hour later she pulled on her outdoor clothing and strode around the farm with a notepad and pencil in her hand.

  For two hours she trampled through unkempt land, making notes and enjoying the air. Her hair grew damp as the clouds dropped lower and formed a light mist. Fashionable Coventry shopping and living no longer featured in her thoughts, instead she pondered what fields would grow what vegetables, and what seasons she had to consider. With excitement and deep concentration, she sketched out how she envisaged the various plots.

  For a fleeting moment she thought of what would happen when her brothers returned. With a flick of her hair and taking a deep breath, Elenor reminded herself of their irresponsible handling of the place and if it wasn’t for her taking control now, it would never have survived. When they did come home, she would fight her corner to stay but not as their skivvy. Coventry would always be her second home, this place had her heart.

  ‘Hey Tre Lodhen,’ she shouted at the top of her voice. ‘I’m home and it’s me and you against the world. Time to feed those who deserve our help.’

  She marched down towards the farmhouse just as a young man on a bicycle headed up the entrance. He peddled with youthful energy and Elenor jotted down a reminder to purchase a new bicycle on her list.

  ‘Miss Cardew?’

  With a sick sensation in her gut she noticed his uniform, and he was holding something out to her.

  ‘It’s not a telegram. I offered to bring it for the postie, he’s busy the other end of the village, and I was passing,’ he said and handed her a white envelope.

  The young boy peddled away, and Elenor stood and watched. She didn’t envy his job, and her thoughts wandered to families who might well have received a telegram or were about to, and her heart went out to them. Her letter was from Coventry, and the scrawling handwriting of a child lit up her heart. Rose had sent her first letter.

  Back indoors, Elenor removed her coat and hung it up for an airing in the corner of the room. She pulled off her boots and stood them by the door. She surveyed the tidy room, its neat appearance highlighting how bad it had looked when she’d last visited her brothers.

  She placed the kettle on the range, cut herself a slice of cheese and bread, and went into the parlour. She couldn’t wait to read Rose’s news. Once she’d eaten at a small table beside her desk, she settled by the fire in a comfortable chair and slid her aunt’s antique letter opener under the lip of the envelope. She lifted out two sheets of paper and smoothed them out in readiness to enjoy the world through a child’s eyes.

  June 1940

  My house.

  Deer Elenor

  Agnis helped me rite this to yoo. I tried hard to use my bestest handriting.

  Mummy is looking for daddy cause he is to long at his aunties house in lundun.

  Agnis helps a lot now. I am lonely when yoo and daddy and mummy are not heer. I play the music but I get sad.

  Have yoo got moor cows yet and chikens and a cat. We had a bomb near the park the ovver day. Have you got bombs. I saw a army man with Sally. When you get a army man I will be your bridesmade. Yoo will bee so pretty. I drawd yoo a cow.

  Love From

  Rose

  xxx

  Elenor unfolded the other piece of paper and smiled at the cow with three legs smiling back at her. She reread the letter. George had gone on another trip and not returned to Coventry, and Victoria had gone to find him. Elenor went to her desk and wrote four letters, one to Rose telling her news of the farm, and one to Victoria enquiring after George. The other two were to Mrs Green, informing her of her safe arrival and asking her friend to pay a visit to Rose to cheer her up, and to Sally begging to hear more about the soldier Rose had seen her with, and of news about the drama group.

  Not wanting to wait until the following day, she took a walk to the post office. She smiled at a familiar group of women chattering at the corner of a street. Elenor was convinced they’d not moved from the day she left the village for Coventry.

  ‘Well if it isn’t young Elenor from the farm. How are ee?’ one woman called over to her.

  ‘Yes, it is me. I’m well. You and yours?’ Elenor asked.

  ‘Well enough. The boys joined up with your brothers. All think they’ll be the hero to bring ’itler down. You running that place alone?’

  ‘I am. I’ve work up there if anyone wants it. I’m planting out soon.’

  ‘I’ll be up dreckly to ’ave a chat with you. Could do with a bit of work meself.’

  ‘Tell five others. Oh, and the children can pitch in with a few chores for extra veg if you want to keep them close.’

  After an hour of chatting to various shopkeepers and other residents happy to see her back in the village, Elenor walked home. She spent time reading through unopened letters from the onset of the war. Neither brother had read information from various war ministries with regard to future running of farms in England, and what was expected of farmers. Making notes, Elenor decided she could cope with the majority expected of her, but only with proper planning.

  By the time evening came she’d milked cows, fed chickens, thrown swill to four loud sows, and chatted with her farmhands about jobs for the following day. In a lonely patch of soil she found carrots, a row of cabbages and onions. She pulled them up, scrubbed them and boiled them into a soup.

  By seven in the evening she sat knitting socks with her wireless offering background noise, and before she knew it the clock on the kitchen mantle chimed out ten.

  Elenor shut up the house for the night, climbed into bed and stretched out her tired limbs. It wasn’t long before she gave into sleep, a sleep disturbed by the sounds of distance sirens screaming out their red alert in the early hours. She turned over and stuffed the pillow over her head. The sound was becoming more familiar as spring rolled into summer, but it was too far away to make her leave the house. She tossed and turned until sleep came her way again. The next sound she heard was the cockerel announcing the start of another day. A day she was handed two telegrams.

  Chapter 27

  Pulling her bike from the shed, Elenor peddled with a slight wind behind her to the village. It frustrated her she had to travel so far to use the telephone after the luxury of Coventry. She dialled the number and waited for someone to answer. It was Victoria.

  ‘Victoria. You are back. Is George with you? Rose said you’d left to find him?’

  ‘Elenor. How are you? I have no news of him yet. When I have I’ll write, although as you know it has happened in the past. He has a tendency to move onto another relative without letting me know first.’

  ‘True enough. Yes, write. How’s Rose?’

  A loud sigh travelled down the line.

  ‘She’s her usual self. I understand she wrote to you. I’ll have to tell Agnes I want to read the letters before they are sent in future.’

  Elenor laughed.

  ‘She did well and all ver
y innocent. I have a lovely picture of a cow.’

  ‘But she obviously worried you by telling you about George, and about me going away to find him. I didn’t realise she’d done that, sorry Elenor. She is a dreadful nuisance at times. More so without her father here. You leaving didn’t help, she really is too much.’

  Victoria’s voice and attitude towards Rose unsettled Elenor.

  ‘Don’t tell Rose off, she did the right thing. You should have sent word, Victoria.’

  ‘Why? He’s my husband and you are busy down there. You can do nothing for him. He’ll return soon. You concentrate on the farm.’

  Her dismissive tone was out of character and Elenor was taken aback.

  ‘I am considering staying here for good, Victoria. The war has taken James and Walter. I own the farm now, and I’d forgotten how Cornish I am, but we can discuss it at a later date. You have a roof over your head and a wage for months so don’t worry. Give my love to Rose. Oh, and say hello to George when he arrives. Bye Victoria.’

  ‘Bye, Elenor. Sorry about your family.’

  Cycling home, Elenor rolled the conversation around in her mind. Victoria had a standoffish attitude, and very obviously didn’t want to talk. Elenor decided to take a trip to Coventry after the harvest.

  Walking her bike along the dry cracked lane home, she saw the figure of a male leaning against the farm gate. A large black car was parked to one side. Expecting an official visit at some point, Elenor guessed it was today. She made no effort to hurry and called out to him.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  He turned and gave a wave.

  ‘Miss Cardew? I’m from the Ministry of Agriculture.’

  Elenor leaned upon the handles of her bike pushing it up the slight incline. Slow and steady. She was in no mood to talk to government officials.

  ‘I take it you’ve come to help with the milking, and right on cue, Mr …?

  ‘Stonnard. Graham Stonnard.’ He held out his hand, but Elenor chose to ignore it and held onto her bike handles.

  ‘Well, Mr Stonnard. Milking is carried out at four in the morning before the churns are collected. I take it you don’t mind sleeping in with the animals; they are precious and sought after. It is most generous of the government to send me a helping hand, and such a strapping male. I have to make do with the elderly and am often fearful one will drop dead mid-tug. The cows can be tetchy at times.’

  She kept her face straight as she teased. His face had the pallor of a snowflake – a definite city office worker.

  Word had gone from farm to farm that the government were ordering cereals to be grown on spare grazing land, and Elenor had plenty of land, however, she didn’t have the workforce to carry out a large harvest. Her brothers’ neglect and her limited time had not produced a satisfactory volume on paper; she’d done her best, but it wouldn’t be good enough for pen-pushers.

  ‘I am not here to work. Well, I am but not physically. We need to discuss your options, and in the absence of your brothers—’ he stopped to check his papers ‘—James and Walter Cardew, we have to discuss it with you as the third owner.’

  Elenor huffed in disgust and walked away, this time wheeling her bike at a speed, and where slurry from the men washing out the barn had run down the path, mud splattered from her back wheel. She heard the man curse. After a few feet she turned around to find him still following and stepping from one dry area to another, avoiding the muddy puddles.

  ‘We really do need to discuss this Miss Cardew. Maybe you’d like to write to a brother and ask advice, but it will take time.’

  ‘More time than you can imagine. My brothers were both killed in action in the Dunkirk evacuation last month. Their regiment remained to defend the rescue. Yesterday, a solicitor informed me I own the farm and I signed papers. I am the last member of my family, and you are looking at the woman who climbed from her bed at four o’clock, fed sheep, chickens and cattle, and then went on to milk the cows. I pulled buckets of vegetables for the villagers, and to meet my quota for your books, I’ll pull more after my lunch. I peddled into town to use the telephone to contact a friend whose husband is missing, and to organise the slaughter of a cow to keep me legal,’ Elenor said before she stopped to draw breath.

  ‘Mr Stonnard, I, with respect, would like to know how you propose I bring in the next harvest. I’ve six women with their children working on my vegetable plots, and four men caring for the livestock. I suggest you turn around, tiptoe your way along the grassy banks of Cornwall and crawl back into your warm office in officialdom. Now, forgive me but I am late to relieve Daisy of her swollen udders. Unless you would like to try your hand?’

  The anger she’d held back from voicing at Victoria down the telephone fell from Elenor’s lips and the man stood flabbergasted as she ranted her way through her speech. Then, to her surprise, his moustache twitched, and he gave the loudest laugh.

  ‘You, young lady, have more fire in your belly than I have ever seen in any man. The German army needs to run scared. Forgive me,’ he said and held up a hand. ‘I am truly sorry for your loss, and had I been given such important information, believe me I would not be standing here today. However, I would be standing here at a future date.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no doubt. You and several other officials with clipboards. It’s brawn I need, not brain.’

  ‘I’ll mark you as a priority and add your name to our Land Army listing. I warn you though, it won’t be until mid to late August.’

  He placed his paperwork into his briefcase and gave a smile as he clasped it shut.

  ‘I’ll be in touch, and now, as much as I’d like to learn how to milk a cow, I must be off to upset another farmer in another village. Good afternoon, and again, my condolences. I ask your forgiveness.’

  With a grin, and then a sheepish look as she watched him brush away specks of mud from his suit, she held out her hand.

  ‘You are forgiven. My apologies, it is trying times for us all, and I should not have taken it out on you.’

  As the shadows fell around the barn that evening, and the cows shuffled their way into the stalls, Elenor wondered when help would arrive. It would be most welcome.

  Chapter 28

  A fox had pulled wire from the henhouse during the night, and Elenor’s first task of the day was to shore it up. As she stood back to double check her handiwork the postman waved and called her name from the bottom gate. Elenor raced to meet him. Her new dog Seth, a gift from a farmer in Redruth, was better at rounding up humans than sheep. Elenor loved his company, but he lacked manners when it came to greeting visitors.

  ‘I’m sorry about him. All noise and no brains.’

  ‘You are more popular than me it seems,’ said the postman and handed her several envelopes.

  ‘I heard your niece, Susie, is looking for a job? I need someone to look after the house. I liked her work when she cleaned up for my move home.’

  ‘I’ll let her know. She’s a good sort and I can see why you’d want her around.’

  After ushering Shep into the kitchen and persuading him to sit for more than five minutes, Elenor sorted the post into official and pleasure. She read her name on the front of a small white envelope. She didn’t recognise the neat handwriting and tearing it open she was thrilled to see it was from Sally.

  July 1940

  Coventry

  Dearest Elenor,

  I miss you. Life on stage is just not the same. I’ve got the leading role in a soppy romance, and your Prince Charming is the lead. He’s not too bad, but his hands are over-friendly.

  Mrs Green sends her best wishes. How are you? How’s the farm? Any handsome young men with muscles lending a hand yet? I suppose they’re all at war, the same as those here.

  The shop looks bleak without some of the stock on the shelves. Oh, and Lilly ran off with a soldier. Her mother is furious. I run the counter now. I’ve bumped into Rose and taken her to feed the ducks a couple of times. Her parents are a strange pair. I sent my dad round t
o yours last week as Rose said she’d tried to pull up some of the vegetables. I didn’t know George wasn’t at home anymore. It was overgrown out the back, so Dad did his bit. He took a pail full in payment. They were tasty.

  Isn’t it horrible trying to write a letter? If we were together we’d be chatting nonstop for days. Mrs G said she’s saving for a holiday if you are still there next summer. I’ll save for a ticket and come too, but don’t get me touching animals and stuff like that, you know me, I’m the fussy one.

  Off to the flicks soon, you take care

  Much love, your dear friend,

  Sally

  x

  Elenor folded the letter and set it to one side. George was still not around. Poor Rose with just her mother for company.

  She fetched her pen and paper and wrote back to Sally.

  July 1940

  Tre Lodhen

  Summercourt

  Cornwall.

  My dear friend,

  How wonderful to hear from you! I did giggle about Prince Charming, he is a handy man. Ha ha. Enjoy the show. I miss the stage but have made my choices for the duration of war.

  Naughty Lilly! She’s a sly thing. I bet her mother tore down the walls looking for her.

  Thank your father for me. I had no idea. Victoria keeps these things from me. I should have realised she couldn’t cope with the house, Rose, and the garden. Please, ask your father to continue until George comes back, and take his pickings home as payment. I am grateful to him.

  My life has had a major turnaround due to the death of my brothers. Both were hailed as heroes at Dunkirk, and I find comfort that in their deaths they did some good. It isn’t easy as I still remember two drunks. I haven’t mourned them in the way the village expects, but they were virtual strangers to me. I have agreed to sing at a church service in the memory of our village recruits. We lost so many. Generations wiped out.

  This is hard for me to say, but I don’t think I’ll return to live in Coventry. I have inherited the farm as the last member of my family. It is hard work but worth the effort. I am about to employ a shepherd and buy more sheep. A bit different to ordering new cream for a pretty counter!