by Tania Crosse
Meg grabbed a mug of tea and some toast while telling Penny she was going out for a few hours. The homely woman didn’t question her, and ten minutes later, she set off on her bicycle.
It took her over an hour to get there. She shuddered as she passed the spot where her mum and dad had died. It was nearly five years ago, and she must put it behind her.
Everything was just the same as she arrived at Home Farm. As it always did on the rare occasions she’d been back to visit the Fenshaws, the tenants who’d taken over after her parents had died, excitement foamed up inside her. For she really did feel as if she was coming home.
There was no sign of life as she entered the farmyard, but then there wouldn’t be at that time of day. The cows would have been milked at the crack of dawn, and being summer, would be back out in the fields, as would the flock of sheep. Meg knew she would get a warm welcome, but nonetheless, her heart pattered nervously as she knocked on the back door.
‘Oh, hello, Meg!’ the farmer’s wife greeted her with a beaming smile. ‘What a nice surprise! We’ve not seen you much since your wedding. Come on in, my dear.’
‘Up till now, I’ve been kept pretty busy,’ Meg explained, going inside. Once again, it felt so strange entering her old home. Part of her, part of her parents, still lingered in the very walls of the old farmhouse, and yet she felt a stranger, empty and full at the same time.
‘Are you on your own?’ kindly Maggie Fenshaw enquired as she stood back for Meg to go inside. ‘Ralph not on leave or anything? He is… all right?’ she dared to ask, gesturing for Meg to sit down at the kitchen table.
‘Oh, yes. He had a fortnight’s leave in April which was wonderful, but I’ve not seen him since,’ Meg explained. ‘He manages to ring me about once a week, but he’s only allowed a few minutes on the phone.’
‘Well, at least that’s a few minutes men don’t get if they’re serving abroad,’ Maggie said sadly. ‘Did you know our son, Paul, got married recently? And he’s just got his call-up papers, and all. Chose the army. Wanted his feet firmly on the ground as God meant us to be, he says. Loves the land, and can’t wait to get back here and he hasn’t even gone yet. Mind you, we’re not sure this farm’s big enough to support two families, assuming Paul, well, survives the war,’ Maggie went on with a catch in her voice, ‘and has a family of his own one day. Cuppa, dearie?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘But in the meantime,’ Mrs Fenshaw continued, busying herself with the teapot, ‘once Paul’s gone, I’m not sure my Alan can manage on his own, not with the quotas the man from the ministry’s set us. We’re no spring chickens. Had Paul late in life, you see,’ she added confidentially, pushing a mug of tea in Meg’s direction.
‘Thank you, Mrs Fenshaw.’
‘I should be thanking you. Given me a good excuse to sit down myself. I think we’ll have to ask the Land Army for help. Though I’m not sure I fancy a stranger living in our house and sleeping in Paul’s old room. Living with his new in-laws, he is at present, and coming over here each day. Though what we’ll do without him, I don’t know.’
Meg’s heart was banging against her ribcage. She couldn’t believe her luck – if the Fenshaws agreed, of course. ‘You might not have to,’ she ventured, her eyebrows arched in anticipation. ‘Have a complete stranger in the house, I mean. I know we don’t know each other that well, but we seem to get on. The thing is… Now that our twin evacuees have left school, and they do so much at Robin Hill House, I’m not really needed anymore. So I’ve decided the best way I can help the war effort is to join the Land Army. And I can’t think of a better place to work than here.’
She watched as Mrs Fenshaw’s jaw dropped before a huge smile spread over the woman’s face. ‘Well, I’m sure Alan will agree,’ she grinned. ‘So when can you start?’
Joy seemed to fill up the empty place Ralph’s absence had left in Meg’s soul. ‘As soon as you’d like me to,’ she answered, spilling over with delight. ‘I’d like to make it official, though, and join the Land Army first. That way, they won’t try to call me up to munitions work or anything at a later date. And I’ll have to change my rationing registrations and so forth.’
‘As a Land Army Girl, you’ll qualify for extra cheese ration, or so I believe,’ Maggie Fenshaw laughed, ‘although what difference an ounce or two a week is supposed to make, I really don’t know! But you really are the answer to our prayers, young Meg. I’m sure Alan will be as delighted as I am.’
Meg was beaming back at her. She knew Clarrie and Doris and Nana May would be upset at her leaving, although she also knew they’d support her in her decision. But it was the right thing for her to do, and it was as if the words were shining above her head in sparkling gold letters. She was coming home!
*
‘Oh, Meggy, we’re going to miss you so much!’ Doris clung about her neck longer than most on the morning she was leaving. She was crushing Meg to her almost as much as Penny had!
‘No, you won’t,’ Meg tried to laugh, though she felt a lump rising in her own throat. ‘And it’s not as if I’m going far. I promise I’ll come back every fortnight and we can all catch up then. You can tell me all your news, and I expect to see some beautiful paintings from you. It’s my twenty-first next month, so maybe you can do me something special as a present.’
It was a Saturday, and everyone was standing outside the front door of Robin Hill House to see her off. So many people and all so dear to her, yet she had met them all because of horrible things that had happened.
‘Now, you, Cyril,’ she said pointedly, but with teasing in her voice to lighten the mood, ‘if you’re not sure about anything with the animals, just pick up the phone. The Fenshaws have had one installed since I lived there before, so we’re not cut off.’
‘Well, you look after yourself, girl,’ Gabriel said, stepping forward to hug her, and she noticed the moisture hovering on the lower lids of his rich brown eyes. Ralph’s eyes. ‘You’re the only daughter-in-law we’ve got.’
‘I will. And you, too.’
It was Mary’s turn to bid her farewell next, and since Wig was at the factory, that just left Nana May and Clarrie to say goodbye. Meg’s heart twisted like a corkscrew as the old lady hobbled forward on her stick. She’d been such a rock since the beginning, so solid and dependable, a wise old owl. But she was in her eighties now, and Meg was a little fearful. For what if anything happened to her while she was absent?
She hurled the thought to the back of her mind as she turned to Clarrie. They took each other’s hands and for several seconds the world drifted away as their eyes locked in understanding. They had shared so much, their innermost secrets, such anguish on either side, had held each other up. Meg knew in that moment that she did truly love her. She couldn’t have her mother back, but if someone was to take her place, no one in the world could have done so better than Clarrie.
Meg sniffed back a tear and spun round to Leslie who was holding the bicycle for her. Her little suitcase was strapped to the pannier rack over the back wheel, and she’d stuffed a shoe bag into the basket at the front. She swung her leg over the crossbar, since it was still the same men’s bike Ralph had renovated for her. She’d already trained Thimble to run safely alongside her on the lead as she rode the bicycle. So hooking the lead about her wrist, she started pedalling down the drive, calling her goodbyes to the small crowd by the house. Then she took her other hand from the handlebar to wave vigorously, before turning out onto the lane.
And then she was on her own. Leaving one life behind to start another new one. Except that it wasn’t new. She was going home. And though her vision blurred with tears, her heart swelled with joy.
Some time later, when everyone was doing what they normally did on a Saturday morning, Clarrie was standing silently by the bedroom window, staring over the grounds to the empty cottage. She’d lost her Meg. For the time being, at least. And now she’d gone, Clarrie had the feeling she wouldn’t be coming back. First Rosebud and now Me
g. Thank God Wig had been spared when he’d come so close to death. And Hitler seemed more intent just now on invading Russia rather than bombing Britain. And she had Penny and all the children to keep her occupied. Until the end of the war when they’d all go back to whatever homes they had left in London. She’d miss them all. But none as much as Meg.
She didn’t hear the light footsteps and the soft tap of the walking stick until Nana May came up behind her and placed a knowing hand on her arm.
*
‘Right, you horrible lot of morons! At ease, if you can remember what that means.’
The sergeant major cast his spearing gaze over the recruits who stood in regimented lines before him on what passed for a parade ground. They’d come to him as a motley crew: cocky blackguards who’d needed the edges knocked off, ex-gaolbirds, and others who were downright thick in his opinion. He’d beaten and bullied them into shape with as much rigid discipline as he could muster – which even in his own eyes was considerable. It had still taken much longer than most intakes of raw recruits, but it was no good sending them into active service if they weren’t ready. They could put other men in the unit in danger, especially where they were headed, and could make the difference between victory and defeat. If possible, that wasn’t a risk worth taking when the British Army was suffering so many setbacks.
He waited while they shifted into the at ease position, despairing of the few who were still a split second behind the others. But they’d had months of training, and things couldn’t be delayed any longer. They were needed now, not next year.
The sergeant major’s steely eyes narrowed further as they travelled over the sea of faces. Some of them probably wouldn’t last five minutes in battle, but others were more resilient. Take Green, for instance. He was a wily one. Would probably make a good corporal in situations that required stealth and cunning. He was one of the ex-gaolbirds. The army might just put him right.
‘You’re still a load of low-down scum, but your training’s over,’ the sergeant major bellowed. ‘I wouldn’t give you a day, but you’ve got a fortnight’s final leave before you’re shipped out. You’ll be told where once you’re en route. That means on the way, you ignorant bastards. But as far away from me as possible, I hope! You’ll be given your passes later today, and you’ll be back here by eighteen hundred hours on the twenty-second of the month. Now, do I make myself cle-ar?’ he blared, raising his voice to foghorn level. And after a deliberate pause for effect, he yelled, ‘Dis-missed!’
The scuffling of army boots scraped through the drizzly autumn air and there was a general murmur as the parade broke up and the men turned away. Two weeks was more than they’d expected, but that could mean they were being deployed further afield where they might not get home leave again until after the war. If they survived it. But might as well make the most of it while they could.
‘My missus’ll be pleased to see us,’ someone said.
‘Mine, too. And the kids. I’ve missed the little blighters.’
‘Well, I ain’t got no missus, so I’m off to the best knocking shop I can find to get me leg over while I can!’
‘Sounds like a great idea. I’ll come wiv yer. Fancy a freesome, do yer?’
Bawdy laughter ricocheted about the group as they crunched towards the barrack huts. That one was all mouth and no trousers. At least, that was what they all thought.
‘How about you, Green?’ someone else asked. ‘You got a girl hidden away somewhere?’
Nathaniel Green pinned on his face what he thought was an appropriate leer. ‘Might have,’ he answered gruffly. ‘But I’ve got a bit of unfinished business to see to first.’
‘What’s that, then?’
‘None of your bloody business.’
No, it certainly wasn’t. He had no intention of telling anyone – or of seeing any of these useless idiots ever again. He’d played his part well, showing as much enthusiasm and intelligence as he could. The army would think he was a reformed character, a reliable and trustworthy soldier. Little did the fools know! He wasn’t going to risk his neck for a capitalist country that had never done him any favours. If the Germans invaded, well, he’d be happy to collaborate. They’d be more appreciative than anyone else he’d ever known!
The plan was easy. He’d disappeared before, and he was perfectly capable of doing so again. He knew how to cover his tracks, and was a master of disguise. The military police would never find him.
He had it all planned. When he’d been inside, he’d pretended to keep himself apart from his fellow inmates. But there’d been one other who’d responded equally to his guile, an elderly forger who would have been released by now. And Nathaniel knew where to find him. A new identity card and ration book would be no problem.
Nathaniel had his army pay in his pocket, so he could pay his way. In fact, it was the first time in ages that he had a decent amount of money to his name. Ironic or what? he sneered to himself. He’d lose himself up north, Manchester or Liverpool perhaps. Somewhere he’d not had any connections with in the past and where they wouldn’t think to look for him. He was quite good at both those local accents, so wouldn’t stand out in the crowd. And he’d soon find a way of making a living. The Black Market was nothing to someone like him.
He’d give it a while, six months at least, before he made his way back down south. To Kent. Was there any way he could track Esme down? He wasn’t sure. But that wasn’t so important. What he wanted was to stake out Robin Hill House. With any luck, Meg bleeding Chandler would still be there. Seemed to have a thing going on with that Ralph Hillier, so that might have kept her there.
And then he could take his sweet revenge. He began to drool at the very thought.
*
‘Meg, my dear, happy birthday!’ Clarrie cried, rushing to open the front door. She’d been standing by the sitting-room window, watching for Meg to pedal up the drive. She noted sadly, though, that Meg didn’t have Thimble with her, which probably meant that she wasn’t staying overnight.
‘Clarrie!’ Propping the bicycle against the front wall, Meg launched herself into the older woman’s embrace. ‘So good to see you again!’
‘Oh, come on in! We’re all waiting for you in the drawing room. It’s such a special occasion, we thought we’d have your party in there.’
‘It’s not that special,’ Meg protested, hanging her coat on the hall stand.
‘Yes, it is! You only turn twenty-one once in your life. Wig was just so sorry he couldn’t join us.’
‘Yes, I know. There’s a war on!’ Meg joked.
‘But he said to open one of his precious bottles of champagne to celebrate.’
‘Oh, that’s kind of—’
But she didn’t get any further. As they went into the drawing room, she was regaled with a chorus of bright voices singing ‘Happy Birthday to You’, followed by a rendition of ‘You’re Twenty-One Today’, led gustily by Penny. As it was half-term, everyone was there, and she was hugged and kissed until she was breathless. Although she was really happy being at Home Farm, it was so good to be back among her friends at Robin Hill House.
Ada had done her best to produce a spread – egg and spam sandwiches, vegetable flans and a fruitcake topped with some almonds she’d found lurking in the pantry, rather than the cardboard icing that had become such a joke. Joyce and Maureen had made the most light and fluffy tarts with some of that year’s batch of blackberry jam. Bunting from the village fête had been pinned along the picture rail, and the last roses from the garden adorned a huge cut-glass vase on the mantelpiece above the fireplace where a log fire burned merrily.
‘We’d like you to have the vase as our present to you,’ Clarrie told her. ‘Take the flowers back with you, but I’ll clean the vase and put it away for safe-keeping.’
‘Oh, Clarrie, thank you!’ Meg gasped. ‘I never thought I’d own something like that.’
‘Well, you deserve it.’
‘And I’d like you to have this.’ Nana May thrust a
long, thin box into her hands. ‘It was my mother’s, but my wrist’s got too big for it now,’ she explained as Meg opened the box to find a pretty silver bracelet.
‘Oh, Nana May, it’s beautiful! Thank you so much!’
‘And this is my and Mary’s present to you, girl.’ Gabriel held out a wooden object. ‘Not wrapped, I’m afraid. Can’t get wrapping paper for love nor money nowadays. Made it myself for you to put on the wall by your front door.’
‘Oh, Gabriel! Something to hang keys on! In the shape of a key itself. Oh, my goodness, you are clever! It must’ve taken ages.’
‘Well, you’re twenty-one, so you need the key to the door!’ her father-in-law grinned.
Everyone came forward with a gift of some sort. Lively chatter filled the room so that Meg didn’t hear the phone. But she didn’t know that Louise had been out in the hall waiting for it to ring.
‘Meg!’ she called, putting her head around the door. ‘Time for my present. Something I arranged for you. You’re wanted on the phone.’
Meg’s forehead pleated into a perplexed frown as she followed Louise out into the hall. This was mysterious. But her heart took wing as she began to guess.
‘Hello?’ she spoke into the receiver, her pulse leaping.
‘Hello, my darling! Happy birthday!’ a beloved voice came down the line. ‘And congratulations on your twenty-first!’
Meg released a squeal of delight. ‘Oh, Ralph, thank you!’ she cried aloud. ‘Oh, this is the best birthday present ever!’
Louise grinned at her, and then quietly slipped away.
Twenty-three
‘Well, that’s it, then.’ Alan Fenshaw finally broke the shocked silence after he switched off the radio in the kitchen at Home Farm. ‘We’re at war with the Japs now, and all.’