by Linda Sole
They were both so tired when they got to the hostel that Carole didn’t think to ask about Emily’s day out again, and so she kept her secret to herself, thinking about it as she tumbled into bed to sleep for hours.
‘What do you mean, Father was worried about the farm?’ Daniel frowned at his eldest brother as they stood talking in the front parlour. ‘What’s the matter? I thought everything was going well.’
‘It has done for years,’ Henry replied grimly. ‘But recently there have been so many new rules and regulations – you’ve no idea how demanding the Food Ministry can be, Dan. Everything has to be checked or rubber-stamped, and we can’t sell our own produce where or when we want; it’s damned red tape all over the place. The profits were down the last year before the war because we had a poor harvest, and lately it has all gone from bad to worse.’
‘That sounds serious.’
‘Not really, not yet,’ Henry said. ‘It might be if things don’t improve, but I’m trying to get on top of all the regulations. You know how much I love paperwork!’
Daniel smiled at his tall, lanky brother, the tallest of them all. Henry looked tired and more worried than he was letting on, his skin a bit sallow as if he might not be well.
‘I know you are a good farmer, Henry, but Dad was always the one who kept it all together. Neither you nor Clay was keen on school or maths, as I remember.’
‘I can reckon what I need to in my head,’ Henry said ruefully, ‘but when it comes to putting it all down . . .’ He growled low in his throat. ‘It isn’t my best job. Clay says the farm is too big for us. He wants to scale it down – go off on his own. Trouble is, Father left a bit of it to all of us – the girls, you, Connor and Margaret. The house is hers until she marries again, if she does – and then we have to pay her half what it’s worth.’
‘Sounds a bit complicated,’ Daniel said. ‘What about Margaret’s shares in the farm?’
‘She is willing to sell them now. At least, according to Clay, that’s what she says.’
‘Will that be difficult, in the present circumstances?’
‘Depends how much she wants,’ Henry admitted. ‘Clay thinks she will be reasonable, but I’ve got an idea he’s in for a shock.’
‘I’ve only spoken to her a few times,’ Daniel said, and looked thoughtful. ‘She seems all right to me . . .’
‘Oh, she’s pleasant enough, but I think she is a schemer. She swept Father off his feet, got him to marry her before he knew where he was – and I think he regretted it.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Don’t know,’ Henry admitted. ‘It’s just a hunch. He was in a hell of a mood for weeks before he died. Part of it was the war and the regulations, of course, but there was more to it than that . . . I think he suspected her of having an affair.’
‘Surely not? They hadn’t been married five minutes.’
‘I think Margaret expected more than she got,’ Henry said shrewdly. ‘They met when he was in London for some function, and it was a whirlwind affair. She saw the house and he spent some money on her, and she thought it was the good life, but then she realized that he didn’t often go to London. She entertains as much as she can here, but it isn’t the same as she was used to in town. I’ve seen some of her friends – rich and idle. She ought to have married one of them, but Dad was an easy mark. I think she will take as much as she can from us and clear off back where she came from.’
‘That’s a bit harsh,’ Daniel said. ‘You can’t know any of this.’
‘I saw her flirting with one of her men friends once. He’s married and can’t or won’t get a divorce. I think she wanted him – that’s why she took Dad on the rebound.’
‘Well, you may be right,’ Daniel said. ‘I’ll do what I can to help with the accounts while I’m home – but I can’t manage anything too physical at the moment.’
‘We can manage most of it. We’ve got a couple of Land Army girls now, and they do pretty well for amateurs. I’m going to try to get more soon. You’ll have to take a look around when you feel up to it. Clay has made some improvements to the sheds and things, pulled down some of the older buildings and put up new. He argued with Dad over it for ages, but it’s done now.’
‘I’m sure you can sort him out,’ Daniel said. ‘Though if he wants to go on his own you might as well let him. It will only cause friction otherwise.’
‘I said I’d ask you,’ Henry said, with a frown. ‘It means deciding on his share. He wants a lot of the land in Chatteris Fen, because it’s good potato and carrot land – but it’s some of the best we own.’
‘Couldn’t we get it valued?’
‘No land is worth much on paper at the moment, Dan. I think he ought to be prepared to either take fewer acres or pay something – otherwise he’s skimming the cream.’
‘Well, perhaps we should all sit down with the solicitor and see exactly how things stand?’
‘Yes, I think that is for the best,’ Henry said. ‘At least you’ll be on my side, Dan. Clay has to realize there’s the girls and Connor to think about as well as us three.’
‘And Margaret,’ Daniel reminded him. They lingered on the front doorstep for a moment as Henry remembered various bits and pieces, but at last he was ready to leave. ‘I’ll see you later then . . .’
Daniel waved as his brother went off in his battered old truck, it’s engine spluttering and banging all the way round the corner. He made a mental note to give it an overhaul once he was feeling better. At least he could do that while he was here, and perhaps it was a good thing he had come back when he did. It seemed that Emily had been right to be concerned. Things weren’t as they should be, and it might be just as well that he had been given three months leave.
As he turned back towards the house, he saw a girl walking towards him, her hips swaying enticingly, and waited for her to come up to him. ‘Hello, Alice Robinson,’ he said, and grinned at her. She was wearing a pretty green dress and her softly waving hair was swinging loose above her collar. ‘And where are you off to this fine day?’
‘I am going to catch the train into Cambridge,’ Alice told him shyly. ‘I’ve applied to be a Land Army girl and I’ve got to see someone there at two o’clock. My father says I’m better on the land than most of the girls he’s seen that other farmers have taken on – and he thinks if they take me on as a land girl I can work for him.’
‘I’m not sure it is as easy as that,’ Daniel said. ‘They might decide to send you somewhere else. Henry was telling me he has two at the moment and he’s applying for more.’
‘Maybe I’ll work for him then,’ Alice said brightly. She tipped her head to one side to look at him mischievously. ‘Want to come to Cambridge with me?’
Daniel hesitated, then started to grin. ‘Yes, why not? I haven’t anything better to do.’
‘Oh, if that’s your attitude,’ she chirped, but her eyes were dancing with laughter. ‘I thought you might take me to tea after my interview – and there’s a good film on in Cambridge.’
‘You’re on,’ Daniel said, beginning to feel much better than he had for days. ‘We’ll have tea, go to the first house and then catch the last train home.’
‘Mr Burgess is in the bed at the end,’ the nurse said, looking at the two girls as they hesitated uncertainly. ‘He is awake now, and lucky to be alive. The doctors thought he would die of smoke inhalation when they brought him in, but he’s rallied, and has only a few small burns to his face and hands. You can stay for fifteen minutes, but that’s all. He’s still suffering from shock but I dare say two pretty girls will cheer him up.’
‘Thank you,’ Emily said. ‘How are the other two firemen?’
‘The news is not as good as far as they are concerned. Mr Harris died this morning, and Mr Jackson is badly burned, I’m afraid.’
‘That’s very sad,’ Emily said. ‘Ted Harris was married with two small children.’ She felt tears sting her eyes as she left the nurse and followed Carole to the end
of the ward. It was rotten for the woman whose husband had died, and by the sound of it another of the men was pretty badly burned.
The injured fireman they had come to see was lying in bed, his eyes closed. His hands were heavily bandaged, but she could see the red marks on his face, which had been greased but left open to the air. Clearly he had been luckier than the others. She swallowed hard, feeling sympathy for him and his comrades.
‘Terry . . .’ Carole said softly. Tears were trickling down her cheeks and Emily gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. ‘How are you, love?’
He opened his eyes and looked at her, then shut them again. ‘Go away, Carole,’ he said. ‘I don’t want a fuss.’
‘But I wanted to help,’ she said, glancing at Emily tearfully. ‘We brought you some fruit . . .’
He opened his eyes again, looking at Emily this time. ‘Have you seen enough? I’m not a bloody sideshow.’
She was shocked by his rudeness. She hadn’t meant to stare at him. ‘I didn’t imagine you were. We came because Carole was anxious about you. All the girls are at the station.’
‘Well, now you can tell them that I’m alive.’
‘What the hell is the matter with you?’ Emily asked. ‘Two of your mates are in a lot worse shape than—’
‘Do you think I don’t bloody know that?’ he growled, looking at her as if he hated her. ‘I’d have been done for if Ted hadn’t come back to get me out. It should have been me dead, not him. Now you can think what you bloody like!’
‘Why should I think anything?’ Emily asked. ‘I don’t know you and after this, I don’t want to. I’ll wait for you outside, Carole.’
She walked away, feeling hot and bothered. What a rude man! As if she’d gone there to gawp at him! She wouldn’t have thought of coming to the hospital if Carole hadn’t asked, and now she wished she hadn’t bothered. Standing outside in the grounds, she looked at the cherry trees opposite. They must be a mass of beautiful blossom in the spring . . .
A girl’s happy laughter caught her attention, and glancing across the road she saw her brother Daniel walking with a girl. They looked as if they were heading in the direction of a popular tea shop, which was just up the road from the hospital, and were clearly enjoying themselves.
Emily felt pleased to see that her brother was feeling better. The girl with him was Alice Robinson. She didn’t know whether or not her father would have approved of the friendship. Frances probably wouldn’t, but then, her sister was a bit of a snob. She thought the Searles and the Danbys were a cut above everyone else in the village, and money-wise she was probably right.
It didn’t matter to Emily who her brother went out with as long as he was happy – besides, she liked Alice. She knew they hadn’t seen her and made no attempt to attract their attention as they crossed the road and disappeared into the tea shop.
Carole came up to her a few minutes later. ‘I’m sorry Terry was so rude,’ she said. ‘He isn’t usually like that. I think he regretted it after you left.’
Emily shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. What shall we do now? We’ve got an hour before we’re on duty.’
‘Shall we go to the Copper Kettle for tea?’
‘No, not today,’ Emily said. ‘Let’s walk into town and see if there are any decent dresses in that shop in Regent Street. I’ve just about got enough coupons for a new one . . .’
‘Your Daniel’s sweet on our Alice,’ Peter Robinson said to Connor that weekend, when they had returned from biking down the fens to count the bullocks on the washes for Peter’s father. They had paused outside his house to chat for a few minutes before parting. ‘She says he took her to tea at a posh place in Cambridge, and then they went to the flicks together – in the best seats, too.’
‘What did they see? Was it a Western? I liked the one we saw at the fleapit in Ely that Saturday your sister took us in on the bus.’
‘Yeah, Stagecoach, that’s what it was called,’ Peter said, and grinned at him. The cinema they called the fleapit always had films that had been to Ely before, but it was cheap for the kids to get in. ‘I like John Wayne – but they didn’t see anything like that. It was a soppy love film with Bette Davis – something daft if I know our Alice.’
‘Your Alice is all right,’ Connor said. ‘I like her. She makes good cakes, especially that one with seeds in it.’
‘I’m going to a party next week,’ Peter said. ‘The Harrisons down the lane are having a party for their daughter. Sheila is a bit daft but they have jelly and tinned fruit for tea.’
‘Lucky you,’ Connor said. ‘I wish I was coming with you.’
‘Your stepmother has lots of parties. I bet you get good food at them.’
‘I never go,’ Connor said with a grimace. ‘It’s bound to be cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off or something rotten like that. I hate her and I hate her stupid old parties.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘I wish she’d never married my dad.’
‘You can come with me if you want,’ Peter said. ‘I’ll tell Sheila to invite you. She does anything I want,’ he ended boastfully.
‘I bet she doesn’t,’ Connor said, and made a suggestive face. ‘I bet she won’t let you put your hand up her knickers.’
‘She would,’ Peter declared recklessly. ‘I bet she’d even let me do it if I asked her.’
‘Go on then, I dare you – ask her.’
‘Nah,’ Peter said. ‘She’s a nice girl. I might marry her one day.’
He wasn’t going to admit that he had no idea how to do ‘it’ even to his best friend. He was ten going on eleven, just a year older than Connor, but he certainly wasn’t ready for ‘it’ yet, even though most of the lads at school boasted all the time about what they’d seen or done.
‘Me and Ken Briggs followed his brother John and Nora Roberts up on the banks last Sunday,’ he said. ‘I think they were doing it. He had his hand up her dress and he was lying on top of her and moving funny. You know . . .’ He went through the motions and Connor laughed, his cheeks a bit red. ‘We couldn’t see much though, because we had to keep our heads low and Ken was laughing fit to pee himself. If his brother had caught us he would have given us a good hiding. He’s a right nasty bugger, especially if he’s had a drink or two.’
‘Pity you couldn’t see a bit more,’ Connor said. ‘I don’t know how to do it yet – do you?’
‘Nah,’ Peter said, and grinned, willing to admit it now that Connor had admitted he didn’t know either. ‘Alice says I’ll know soon enough, when I’m ready.’
‘Do you think she’s done it?’
‘With your Daniel?’ Peter screwed up his face in thought. ‘Nah, I shouldn’t think so – not yet, anywise. She’s looking all soppy and singing all over the place, but it’s too soon. Alice isn’t like that Nora Roberts. Ken said his brother says she’s anyone’s. She’ll let any of them do it for the price of a drink up the pub.’
‘I don’t want a girl like that,’ Connor said. ‘I’m glad your Alice isn’t that way – and I hope she marries our Daniel. If this flipping war was over he could come home and things would be better. They might take me to live with them, and you could come too.’
‘Can’t see my mum letting me go and live with them,’ Peter said. ‘She likes me around all the time. I do my delivery for Johnson’s Groceries on the bike and then she wants me to stop at home with her while Dad goes to the pub. We sit and eat cheese on toast by the fire for a special treat if we’ve got any left – crumpets too sometimes, with her own jam or honey when we can get it.’
‘Mother’s boy!’ Connor taunted, and yet he couldn’t help envying his friend. It was a long time since he’d known what it was like to have a loving mother. Margaret certainly wasn’t that, nor did he want her to be. He blamed her for his father’s death, though he didn’t have any real reason, but he was sure it was her fault in his own mind.
Peter grinned and aimed a punch at him. In another moment they were fighting on the ground, but not angrily, just in the way of
friends, amusing themselves. Seeing them scrapping, a man passing called encouragement and laughed.
‘That’s it, give him one, Peter lad. Them Searles can do with a bit of a lesson, stuck-up bastards. Heading for a fall, that’s what they are.’
‘Shut your face, pig brain,’ Peter yelled after him, incensed at the insult to his friend, and then went back into the fight with renewed vigour. It ended as swiftly as it had begun when Mrs Robinson came to the door and called to them.
‘Peter! Stop fighting with Connor at once! The two of you are more trouble than a pair of Bantam cocks, always scrapping. I want you to run an errand – and when you get back there will be a piece of cake for both of you, that’s if Connor wants to stay for tea?’
‘Yes, please!’ Both boys chorused together. It wasn’t often there was cake for tea, though because their families had farms there were always some eggs and a bit of farm butter now and then. Peter gave Connor a hand up as they grinned at each other. It was good to be friends, good to be young, even if they did want answers to the burning question of how you did ‘it’.
Peter took the shopping list and his mother’s money and they raced off up the street, trying to beat each other to the shop on the corner, trying to be first. It was a constant competition between them, but it made their lives more rewarding.
Alice watched from the front window as the boys went racing up the street and smiled to herself. They were good boys, both of them, and she liked Connor. She had been polishing the front-room furniture with the window open and she’d heard what they were talking about as she worked.
Those rogues, the things they did and said! It had made her cheeks burn when they were discussing her and Daniel, but she was amused and had gone on listening, even though perhaps she ought not to have. She was glad Connor liked her, but sad that he hated his stepmother. She quite liked Margaret Searles herself, though she’d seen something one day at the house before Robert died, something she’d kept to herself.
It would make a fine old scandal if folk knew that she’d seen Margaret in her stepson’s arms. Clay had been kissing her in a way that seemed to suggest that he at least wanted a lot more than a mere kiss.