“What about Marian?” I asked, “and Albert. Can’t they help?”
“Albert’s useless, you know that, but Marian comes to help in the house and the dairy. Miranda has gone. Fred wouldn’t let her stay any longer.”
I put my arms round her and comforted her as best I could. I didn’t know what to do. I only had another ten days’ leave and then I would have to go back to Scotland. And back East anytime after that.
“Right,” I said. “You wipe your eyes, Mother and put the kettle on, while I go up and find a change of clothes. I’ll milk tonight and then tomorrow I’ll go to the village and see if I can’t rustle up some labour. There’s bound to be someone who could do with an extra bob or two. I daresay some of them would do work for a pound of butter or a few eggs. Don’t you worry any more.”
I tried to sound confident, but truth to tell I doubted my own words. Our Billy had a bad reputation as a hard master and now, if the word had got round that he was a bit barmy, then my task of getting labour, would be impossible.
The lad, Ernie had crept into the yard from God knows where, when I came down in my old clothes. I had heard Billy snoring in the big bedroom but I didn’t bother disturbing him. I’d leave him for later.
“Hello, Mr Richard,” the lad said, his big brown animal eyes staring at me unquestionably as though I’d only seen him the day before. “Shall I bring the beasts in?”
We got through the milking slowly. I was rusty and he was stupid, but we did it and I hosed down the cattle for good measure and made him fork out the stinking hay and bring in fresh. After that, I went over to the pigpens and had a look round. It was worse in there. An old sow had overlain her piglets and I saw decomposing corpses lying amongst the few healthy pigs. “Jesus!” I said in trepidation, for I’d never liked pigs much, but got into the pen and gathered up the dead piglets.
“Ernie!” I called, sounding for all the world like my father. “When you’ve finished in the barn, come and help me clean up the sties.”
Fair play, that boy was a good worker when he was given instruction and even though it was getting dark, we worked together to get those two areas of the farm yard decently clean.
“Right,” I said and reaching in my pocket, gave him two half-crowns. “This is for doing extra work and I thank you very much. Make sure you’re here bright and early in the morning.”
“Thank you, Mr Richard.” He opened his mouth in a sweet, gap-toothed smile and stared at the silver coins in his dirty hand. “My mother will like this money.”
Billy was up, sitting in the kitchen when I went in. “Hello, our Dick,” he said, getting up to give me a hug. “Mother said you were home. I’m right glad to see you.” These words of welcome brought on a bout of tears and he sat down again and sobbed into his handkerchief.
“Never mind crying,” said Mother, practical as ever, “come to the table now, for I’m sure Richard is starving after all that work.”
He nodded, noisily blew his nose and we sat in our old places at the table while Mother dished up a cheese pudding and a couple of sausages each. I looked at Billy out of the side of my eye as we ate. He seemed to have shrunk, somehow. His broad shoulders had lost much of their bulk and even his arms, normally bursting with muscle and power, looked strangely wasted.
“How have you been?” I said.
“Not very well. I’ve had a funny do.”
“I heard that was a while ago. You should have got over it by now.”
Mother looked at me anxiously and shook her head, but I carried on. I couldn’t help myself. “The farm looks a bugger. You’ve let it go badly.”
Wasn’t it odd? I was no longer scared of my brother. For the first time in my life I didn’t feel inferior to him. I was his equal and, being such, could talk to him man to man.
He took it too, not curling his fists and letting his eyes bulge like they usually did when he was ready for a fight, but in a way, quite manfully, accepting that he’d fallen by the wayside. Yet, all the time I was talking, he kept eating, taking the last scrapings of the pudding from the dish as was his usual wont. There was nothing wrong with his appetite.
“Father would have a fit, seeing how you’ve left things,” I continued. “All his hard work and your own, is going downhill fast.”
Mother cleared her throat. “William has been quite poorly,” she said, hoping that I’d let up. “It’s been very difficult for him.”
“Well, he’s better now, isn’t he. He looks all right.” He didn’t, but I chose to ignore that. As far as I could see, nothing was wrong with him that a few days of hard work wouldn’t fix. I’d never seen such a pallor on a working man. You could tell that he had been spending too much time indoors. And he hadn’t bothered to shave himself for days. That was slacking, something that I wouldn’t have put up with in my men.
“Back to work tomorrow, our Billy. And leave off those pills; I reckon you’ve had enough. What d’you say?”
All this time, he hadn’t spoken, just sat in front of his empty plate with his head down. I thought he might be crying again and indeed when he did lift his head, I noticed a glimmer of tears in his eyes. But, to my relief, he managed a grin and nodded his head. “Yes, sergeant,” he said, “I promise,” and with his old short barked laugh turned to Mother and added, “this bugger’s better than any of old Guthrie’s tonic, eh?”
My last thought before I closed my eyes that night, was would he do as he promised but, good as his word, he was in the yard before six the next morning and we milked the cows and turned them out onto fresh pasture. He then turned his attention to the bull pen, a place of which I was still terrified, but which my brother treated as though it was as unconcerning as a box full of kittens. I stayed to watch as he swiftly hooked the big bull through the nose and led him into the small enclosure, so that he could sort out the pen. The lad was set about cleaning up all the bits of machinery and feed sacks that were lying around and later that day, when I drove back in from the town, he had hosed down the yard, so that the cobbles glistened in the bright spring sunlight. Already, the place smelled better.
I went first to Fred Darlington, to get the truth of what had happened from him. I knew Elizabeth’s version, but Mother had only said that Billy had been ill. She’d said nothing about the shotgun.
“Good to see you home, Dick,” said Fred, pumping my hand. He was in his uniform and was home for a mid-morning cuppa before going out again. “You’ve just missed Miranda; she’s gone shopping in town.
When I asked him about Billy he said, “He’s been terrible for a couple of years, ever since the war started. Worse than that damn bull he keeps. Everyone is scared to death of him.” He poured two cups of tea, and clearing a child’s colouring book off the table, put them down in front of us. “I’m not surprised that Elizabeth went,” he continued. “Miranda said she didn’t mind going to help your Mother for a while but Billy got worse and I took her away. I got old Guthrie out to him again and he increased the dose of pills. Now I hear he stays in bed all day.”
“He did the milking this morning,” I said, a trifle smugly. “Nice as pie.” Now I was worried that I’d told Billy to stop taking the pills. My thought had been that he’d had enough and that he’d been cured, but now I wondered if his illness hadn’t got a cure and that the pills kept him calm. I didn’t know, I wasn’t a doctor, but whatever our Billy needed, it wasn’t stuff that kept him in bed all day. I was certain of that.
Fred pursed his lips, wondering I suppose, whether I was acting over-confident. “How long are you home for?” he asked. “He needs keeping an eye on.”
“I’m going back to Liverpool next week for a couple of days and then I have to rejoin my unit. I’ve come into the village to find some help. The farm is too big for just Billy and Ernie Fellows. Can you think of anyone?”
Fred shook his head. “Your brother is a bastard to work for. Always looking for a fight and as tight as hell with money. Besides, most of the able bodied men have joined up. There
are Land Girls on some of the farms but that wouldn’t do for yours.”
“Why not?” I asked. I’d forgotten about the Land Army. A couple of healthy girls would work a treat on our farm and we had plenty of empty bedrooms to put them up. That brought another thought. Why hadn’t we had any evacuees?
“For God’s sake Dick, surely I don’t have to tell you.” Fred sounded exasperated. “That damn brother of yours isn’t safe with women.” I must have looked angry because he put up a hand. “I know. There isn’t any proof, but I for one don’t need any. And the people who delegate the Land Girls to places in the village know too. That’s why none have been offered, nor evacuee children either, for that matter.”
I left his house in a state of turmoil. What on earth was I supposed to do now? Billy had a bad reputation, so our farm, which, in normal times, produced the best milk in the county and wonderful vegetables, was to be left in a state of disrepair. I couldn’t let it happen. It was my home too and I must do something. If the village couldn’t help I had to go further afield so I turned the car towards the main road and headed into town.
At supper, that night, I told Mother and Billy what I’d arranged. “Two young women from the Land Army are coming here tomorrow. They’ll sleep upstairs and you, Mother, will be in charge of them.” She looked surprised. “Like a chaperone,” I explained. “They will work on the farm and be paid mostly by the government, so you won’t be out of pocket. I’ve met and engaged two most suitable girls.”
I’d picked them out specially when I went to the recruiting office where they had registered. One was an older girl, plain with tortoiseshell glasses and of nun-like quietness. The other was a jolly, heavyset young woman who answered me back in such a way that I was sure she wouldn’t take any nonsense from anyone.
So far, since I’d brought up this subject, Billy had said nothing but had concentrated on his food. He looked better tonight; the sunshine had added some colour to his skin and he moved more easily around the room. The sleepy lumbering gait of yesterday had all but disappeared. He had enjoyed his day, I could see that and before I’d brought up the subject of the land girls he had been speaking quite animatedly about planting up the greenhouses. Now he looked down again and studied his plate.
“I don’t want young sluts about the place.” His voice was chilling and I was sickened to hear it. What had gone wrong in his head that made him think of women as sluts? If this was how he planned to behave, then my plan was turning to poison before my eyes. I couldn’t allow it to happen.
“Mother,” I said, “do you mind going upstairs and looking in my kitbag? There are photographs in there that I’d like you to see.” She understood me straight away and left the room with such alacrity that I knew she was glad to go. I stood up and walked round to my brother’s chair. “Listen to me,” I said, grabbing a chunk of his shirt front and pulling him upright. I was boiling with anger at his hateful stupidity. How dare he spoil all the arrangements I’d made on his behalf, just because of some half-cocked ideas he had about women. I wouldn’t have it.
“These girls are not sluts,” I said and I can remember now how nasty my voice sounded. “They are ordinary, decent young women who are ready and willing to help us stop this farm from going to the dogs, which is what you are letting it do. No-one in the village will work for you because you’ve become such a bastard, but I won’t let you destroy all that Father worked for. These girls are coming to the farm and mark my words, our Billy, I’ve told Fred Darlington that if you so much as lay one finger on either of them, he is to arrest you straight away. Do you understand?”
For a moment I thought the old Billy would burst into life and take me on, for when he looked up, he had a dangerous glint in his eye and he was moving his lips as though in his head he was telling me exactly what he thought of my plan. I sized him up. He was still pretty strong but I reckoned I could best him now if it came to a fight and when he shook off my hand and heaved himself upright, I readied myself. But it proved unnecessary, he was already simmering down.
“All right,” he grunted, and went to the scullery to get his coat. “I’ll have them here. But they’re to keep out of my way.”
“Where are you going?” I was worried again, because he was shaking slightly in that way he had once before.
“Nowhere. Just a walk round the stock before dark.” His mood suddenly lightened. He was like that. One moment in a towering rage and the next as calm as could be. “Come with me,” he said and gave me a boyish grin. “I’d like a bit of company.”
Mother came back into the kitchen, just as we were going out. I gave her a little nod behind Billy’s back and I could see her chest move as she took in a big breath of relief.
I picked up the girls the next afternoon. The one with the glasses was called Gloria. What a name for such a plain quiet girl, but she didn’t seem nervous or anything so I wasn’t worried about taking her home. I was pretty sure now that Billy would behave himself. I’d done what Fred had told me to do all those years ago and had been too scared to at the time. Someone telling our Billy off, for once, was all that was needed.
The other girl, Ida, was completely different from her companion. She talked all the nine miles home, expressing her opinion on how the war was going, what films she’d liked at the picture house and whether this car, Billy’s, was worth the money. After a while I ceased listening and allowed her to gabble on unchecked and unanswered. I was thinking about Elizabeth and John. With these two extra people in the house and Billy given a firm warning, it would be safe for them to come home now. I had to get them out of Liverpool and away from the bombing. Surely Elizabeth would agree to that, if only for John’s sake.
I stayed at home for another five days and by the time I left, the land girls had got into the swing of things and were already working hard. Ida was strong and could easily do the work of a man. She was a huge asset as long as you weren’t in ear-shot, but to mother’s relief, she was quiet in the evenings. Apparently she’d been brought up by her father not to talk during mealtimes. We silently thanked that father.
Gloria pulled her weight also. She knew nothing about farming and at first was frightened of the cows. I thought she was going to turn out useless, but she had a hidden bit of steel about her and buckled down to the work. As it turned out, she was the one to whom the cows grew attached and the milk yields steadied and then rose as she took over their management.
Billy ignored the girls most of the time, giving them instructions and showing them how to do things, but other than that, he left them alone. He was attending to the fields, which had been left unplanted this spring. It was late on, really, but he thought he could get something in and growing. He cleaned out the greenhouses too and sowed a crop of tomatoes and cucumbers.
It would take a few months, I reckoned, but our farm would get back to normal.
“You’ve worked a miracle, Praise the Lord,” said Marian when she came round, the day after the Land Girls came. She had changed the most of all our family. Her hair was grey like mothers but she now wore it dragged back in a tight bun and she had given up wearing even the merest scrap of make-up. All those smart clothes that she’d worn as Lady Mayoress had disappeared and she now dressed in plain dark jumpers and skirts. Her religion had begun to take over her life.
“God is love,” she would say, apropos of nothing, when sitting in our kitchen to have a cup of tea and when she was in the dairy, separating the cream and putting up the cheeses, she would repeat whole passages of the New Testament. Mother said nothing and would carry on as this was all entirely normal but one afternoon after two hours of Marian’s company, she stood with me by the field gate and breathed a great sigh.
“Sometimes, I think that you are the only normal one of the family,” she said to me, linking her arm in mine as we walked through the gate and along the edge of the field. “Perhaps I was too hard on the other two when they were growing up.”
“You treated me just the same,” I laughed,
but I knew she hadn’t. I’d been her favourite and spoiled. Of course it could have been that I had a different father. That fact was left, as ever, unsaid.
We sat on a fallen willow tree by the river. It was a lovely day, the first warm one of that year and the water sparkled in the afternoon sun.
“Is Elizabeth well?” said Mother, looking away from me and up to the hillside. “And John?”
I nodded. “They’re fine. John is growing so quickly. He’s going to be tall.”
She said nothing for a few minutes and we sat, listening to the birds twittering in the alders and the occasional plop of a fish leaping for an insect.
“I was so wrong.” The words came out painfully and as if for comfort, she reached out for my hand. “Can you forgive me?”
“Yes. That was all over years ago.” It was a lie. I never forgave her, but I couldn’t hurt her by saying so.
“Thank you, son.”
We sat a little longer and then got up to walk back to the house. She stopped by the gate where I’d waved her ‘goodbye’ when I’d first left home. “Give Elizabeth and John my best love, won’t you?” she said. “I miss them terribly.”
“Not for much longer. I’m going to bring them home,” I said, “you’ll see them in a few days.” The joy that came into her face then, was nothing compared to the excitement and relief I felt. I was so proud of myself for what I’d achieved in the last few days. Everything would be all right now.
Chapter 24
It was late afternoon when I got back to Liverpool. Elizabeth and John had been sitting having their tea in the little kitchen when I knocked at the door but John ran into the hall when Elizabeth let me in and threw himself into my arms.
“Oh, Uncle Richard,” he cried, “I’m glad you’ve come back.”
“So am I, son,” I said and it was true. As much as I loved the farm, this was where I really wanted to be, with Elizabeth and John. If it weren’t for the bombing, nothing on earth would make me persuade them to go back.
The Love of a Lifetime Page 32