Peace Comes to Honeyfield

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Bless you, Joss won’t mind you being here, and as for my Dulcie, she enjoys a bit of company. Best daughter a man could have, she is.’

  ‘I’ll go and have a word with her,’ Georgie said. ‘See if it’s all right, and whether I can help in any way.’

  Mrs Needham was bustling to and fro. She clearly had her small world well organised and when Georgie told her what Grandpa had said, she volunteered an invitation at once. ‘You’d better stay another night, then. It’ll be no trouble.’

  She hesitated, then asked wistfully, ‘Can either of you play the piano? I do love a bit of music, but I’ve never had the time to learn to play myself. I like singing, though. My Peter says I don’t know when I’m singing as I work, and that’s the truth. Good thing I can hold a tune, eh, or I’d drive everyone mad?’

  ‘I play a little,’ Georgie admitted. What girl from her sort of family wasn’t sent to piano lessons, whether they had talent or not? ‘Perhaps I could have a look at your music, see if you’ve any pieces I know. I’m not good enough to play in public, but I could manage the accompaniment to a little singalong, maybe.’

  Mrs Needham beamed at her. ‘That’d be grand. I’ve lots of sheet music because even if I can’t play the piano properly, I can read the words and pick out the notes with one hand.’

  Minnie Needham came in just then and was informed by her mother-in-law that they were going to have a sing-song that night.

  ‘Jim will like that. Has Grandpa finished the shoe?’

  ‘Still working on it,’ Mrs Needham said cheerfully. ‘But since you offered to help, Miss Cotterell—’

  ‘Georgie, please.’

  ‘Georgie, then. Are you any good at sewing? I’ve a basket of mending.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’d make a mess of it because I’m hopeless with a needle. But if there’s anything else you need doing, don’t hesitate to ask.’

  ‘Minnie can get on with the mending, then, and since it’s baking day you can lend me a hand in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’ve not done a lot of baking but if you tell me what to do, I’ll give it my best go.’

  Both women looked at her in surprise.

  Georgie felt guilty as she admitted, ‘We always buy our bread from the baker’s.’

  ‘Well, my old Gran allus said every woman should learn to bake her family’s daily bread, however rich she was, so I’ll give you a lesson as well as getting me a helper.’

  When Georgie went to take the men a mid-morning cup of tea, she had a quick word with Patrick, because she was fretting more than a little at the prospect of another day’s delay and the safety of their friends if they waited too long at Westcott.

  He gave her one of his kind smiles, as if he’d read her mind. ‘No use worrying because there’s nothing we can do about it till I get the car fixed. We’ll leave tomorrow, so make the most of your restful day. These are good people. We’ve fallen lucky, haven’t we?’

  After which, time passed quickly and busily, and even the bread Georgie had helped knead turned out reasonably well.

  It was mid-afternoon before the neighbour came with his tools to look at the car. His breathing was a bit wheezy, which made Patrick wonder if he’d been gassed in the war or had he always had difficulty breathing, as a few folk did.

  Eddie hummed and hawed when the stranger wanted to take over the repair work, but as Patrick’s superior skill quickly became apparent, the two of them ended up sorting out the blocked carburettor, swapping knowledge, and making adjustments so that the engine ran better.

  When they’d finished, Eddie stood back, rubbing his dirty hands on a rag. ‘Nice little car, this. Never seen one before, ’cept in a picture.’

  ‘I’d offer to take you for a ride, but I daren’t because we have to use our motor spirit sparingly.’

  ‘Where are you going next?’

  ‘Not sure. We have to make a phone call first and find out where our friends are.’

  Eddie looked at him with a grin. ‘Keeping that information to yourself, are you?’

  ‘Yes. You might let something slip without realising it, and we don’t want to give some nasty fellows a clue as to where we’ve gone.’ He held up one hand to stop Eddie interrupting. ‘It’s not that I don’t trust you: I do. But this is actually a matter of national importance.’

  ‘National!’

  He saw the doubt on the other man’s face, so looked him steadily in the eyes as he added, ‘I’m not telling you lies, or even exaggerating. I’m just … being very careful with everything we do.’

  Eddie studied him. ‘I bet you were a good sergeant.’

  ‘I did my best. Tried to look after my lads. Were you in the Army?’

  ‘Aye. For a while. But I was gassed early on, so I come home to help on the farm. I can breathe better here than in a town. And I won’t betray you, I promise.’

  ‘I knew that or I’d not have told you.’

  They exchanged nods that said they understood one another, then Eddie patted the car again and packed his tools away. ‘You should be all right now. That engine sounds to be running smoothly. Good luck with whatever it is.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  The evening’s sing-song was a great success and Georgie’s occasional missed note on the piano was more than made up for by the soaring beauty of Dulcie’s voice.

  ‘You have a glorious voice,’ she said in awe, ‘and it’s clearly been well trained. You must have had a good music teacher.’

  ‘She was wonderful. Dead now. She was old when I went to her.’

  To Dulcie’s delight, Patrick too had a good voice and was able to harmonise effortlessly with her.

  ‘You must have had a good music teacher as well,’ she commented.

  ‘No. Only what they taught us at primary school. I just like singing.’

  ‘But you sing the harmonies perfectly.’

  ‘I just, sort of, you know, feel my way.’

  Dulcie nodded and tapped her head. ‘Born with it. Lucky you.’

  Mr Needham caught sight of the clock just then and exclaimed in surprise, ‘Eh, it can’t be that time already! Better get to bed now, folk. Them animals will still need feeding in the morning. I thank you for giving my Dulcie so much pleasure.’

  His son and wife nodded and went back to their own cottage.

  Georgie helped clear away the cups. ‘You’re good enough to be on the stage, Mrs Needham.’

  She blushed.

  ‘My Dulcie used to sing in concerts here and there,’ Mr Needham said proudly, ‘but the war stopped that. She were needed here on the farm, with our best lad gone to fight in France.’

  ‘The war stopped a lot of things,’ Patrick agreed. ‘I’m sure you’ll sing for people again, Mrs Needham. Your voice is truly beautiful. It was a pleasure to sing with you.’

  Mr Needham nodded, then said firmly, ‘Bed now, everyone.’

  ‘We’ll leave as soon as it’s light tomorrow, if that’s all right with you,’ Patrick said.

  ‘I’ll make sure you’re both awake in plenty of time.’

  As they were lying in their improvised bed in the barn for the second night running, Georgie said softly, ‘Salt of the earth, aren’t they, the Needhams?’

  ‘Yes. They were what I was fighting for, honest folk trying to make a decent living for themselves and their families. That’s what our freedom’s for, to me, not for the kings and queens and politicians who’re squabbling with one another.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dennis roused the other two as the grey light of predawn became bright enough to show the details of the landscape around them.

  Although he moved cautiously, Rosie woke up at once. ‘Oh! We’re still in the car. I didn’t think I’d sleep well, but I was that tired I went straight off. Ooh, I’m stiff all over. Could I get out and stretch, do you think, Dennis? And, um, I’ll nip behind those bushes while I’m at it, too.’ She couldn’t help blushing as she said that.

  He had to shake Martin, who was a soli
d sleeper, to wake him up, but by the time it grew light, they were all ready, so hungry they were eager to leave.

  ‘How do we know which way to go?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘We have to head roughly north-east, so the sun will help us get started in the right direction. Luckily for us, the sky is only partly cloudy this morning.’

  He managed to find a road that let them head in the right direction and presently they came to a signpost indicating the way to Malmesbury.

  Dennis came to a decision. ‘I don’t think we should stop anywhere to ask the way. I don’t want to be remembered if anyone asks about strangers passing through. I’ve a good sense of direction and we know Honeyfield is to the east of Malmesbury so we’ll try to find our way on our own.’

  ‘Let’s stop at a bakery first,’ Rosie begged. ‘I’m so hungry I can’t think straight.’

  ‘If we go past one that looks busy, you can nip in and buy whatever you like. Do you have any money?’

  ‘A little. Enough to buy some food.’

  ‘We’ll all pay our share when we stop.’

  ‘I’m a good eater,’ Martin said, ‘and I’ve enough to pay my way, so don’t stint.’

  She got out and came back with a bag of broken pieces of bread from the night before, some iced buns and two new loaves. ‘I thought I’d better get enough for more than one meal. We’ll have to find a stream to quench our thirst, though.’

  Martin sighed. ‘I could murder a cup of tea.’

  ‘We all could.’

  They drove on to a suitable stopping place near a stream, ate the iced buns and some of the bread, scooped up some of the clear water to drink, then set off again.

  ‘I feel much better now,’ Rosie said cheerfully. ‘And there were two other women in the shop pestering to be served quickly, so I don’t think the baker noticed much about me.’ She giggled. ‘I spoke with a Scottish accent, too. I have a friend from Glasgow so I know how to do it.’

  The two men were grinning as they drove along.

  ‘You’re a tonic, you are, Rosie,’ Martin said. ‘Go on, do us a Scottish accent.’

  So she ‘spoke Scottish’ for a few remarks, then Dennis did some Welsh like his mother’s voice.

  They made a couple of turns that led only to small villages, and had to turn round and go back to the main road each time, but when Dennis spotted a signpost pointing the way to Honeyfield, he braked and pointed, letting out a yell of triumph. ‘Told you I’d get us there, didn’t I? Now all we have to do is find this Pear Tree Lane. Through the village, Miss Cotterell said, past the shops and turn right.’

  Rosie beamed at him as they jolted slowly along by a long, narrow village green. ‘You are clever, Dennis! And it’s been such a comfortable ride. I’ve never even sat in a big fancy car like this before, only been in a couple of rattling old cars and a van.’

  Pear Tree Lane was indeed on the other side of the village. It proved to be a cul-de-sac, with only a few houses on either side.

  ‘The house is called Pear Tree Cottage and she said it was the last one on the left,’ Dennis reminded them. ‘Aha! There’s the name on the gate.’ He let the car roll to a halt and switched off the motor. ‘We did it. We’re here.’

  There was silence and no sign of anyone in the street. The only car apart from theirs stood in the drive of Pear Tree Cottage. ‘Looks like Patrick and Miss Cotterell haven’t got here yet, unless they’ve hidden their car behind the house. No, they couldn’t get round it, could they? The path’s too narrow.’

  ‘I hope they’re all right,’ Rosie said.

  ‘Only one way to find out. Come on. Let’s see if her friends know anything.’

  He got out of the car and led the way to the front door.

  From the sitting room window Tez saw a large black car stop outside their house. ‘I wonder who that is?’

  Bella came to join him. ‘I don’t recognise the people who’ve got out of it, but they’re all coming up the path. Do you know them?’

  ‘Never seen them before. I’d better answer the door. You stay in here.’

  He opened the door just as Dennis was reaching for the knocker. ‘Hello. How can I help you?’

  ‘Miss Cotterell and Patrick Farrell told us to meet them here today. We’d expected them to be here already. I believe Miss Cotterell is a friend of the lady of the house.’

  ‘That’s my wife, Mrs Tesworth.’

  ‘Would her name be Bella?’

  Tez nodded, and took the man’s knowledge of his wife’s first name as probable proof that they really did know Georgie. He wondered who this Farrell person was. All the strangers looked to be decent folk. The men were ex-servicemen from the looks of it, one of them with a hand injury similar to his own, the other with a badly scarred face.

  Based on that, he took a sudden decision and held the door open. ‘Come in and tell us what’s been going on.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Tesworth.’ Dennis introduced his companions, then stood back and gestured to Rosie to go first.

  The fellow had good manners too, Tez noted. Another point in his favour.

  In the sitting room the three visitors stood in an awkward group just inside the doorway as Tez introduced them to his wife.

  ‘Come and sit down next to me on the sofa, Rosie,’ Bella said. ‘And perhaps you two gentlemen would take those chairs?’

  Tez went to stand by the crackling wood fire, one hand on the mantelpiece. ‘Now, tell us about yourselves and what’s going on with Georgie.’

  The other two looked at Dennis and he took over the explanations.

  When he’d finished his tale, Bella said immediately, ‘We don’t get a lot of phone calls, so I think our mysterious phone call must have been from Georgie. The caller didn’t try to ring us again, though.’

  She looked at Tez anxiously. ‘Where can Georgie be? If she’s not here and she daren’t go back to Westcott House, where else could she have taken refuge?’

  ‘With Lady Berrens in London, perhaps?’ Tez suggested.

  ‘We all left London together,’ Dennis said. ‘Georgie was with us then. I don’t think she and Patrick will have gone back there.’

  ‘And she can’t be staying with my mother, either, because I was up in town yesterday and Mother would have said something. What about Honeyfield House? Could Georgie have gone there?’

  His wife shook her head. ‘If she had, they’d have sent me word.’ Like her husband, Bella had been studying their visitors carefully. ‘In the meantime, you three are going to need somewhere to stay. We’ll find you beds here.’

  Tez frowned. ‘I’m not so sure about that, not because I object to your presence, I promise you, but because you’d be found very easily if you stayed with us. Georgie and Bella’s friendship is well known among her London acquaintances. But of course you must stay here for the rest of the day until we think of somewhere else where you can sleep in safety.’

  ‘I’ll tell the maids that you’ve popped in to see us, say you’re friends of my mother-in-law,’ Bella said.

  Tez looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps they could be put up at Honeyfield House, Bella? Shall I phone and ask my mother? She can authorise it, being one of the trustees.’

  ‘At a pinch we could do that. But I think it’d make the women nervous if they had strange men staying there, so I’d rather not, if we can manage. Some of them have suffered so dreadfully at their husbands’ hands that they don’t trust any men now.’

  Dennis looked at their comfortable surroundings and sighed. ‘Well, if we could just wait here for a while, perhaps Georgie and Patrick will turn up, then we can work out with them where to go. We could sit in the kitchen to be out of your way and we’d try not to be a nuisance.’

  Bella shook her head before he’d even finished speaking. ‘Better not do that. It’ll look as if you’re not friends and then people will wonder what you’re doing here. The slightest thing can set off gossip in a small village, believe me.’

  Tez was looking thoughtful. ‘I’
ve got an idea about where you might be able to go, but I’ll need to phone someone first to ask about it.’ He smiled. ‘What did we do before we had telephones? I think some day everyone will have one, rich and poor alike.’

  ‘I can’t imagine that,’ Rosie said. ‘My mum has enough trouble putting bread on the table, the idea of having a telephone isn’t even in her dreams. No, you’re wrong. They’re only for rich people and always will be.’

  Tez smiled at her. ‘Meet me here in thirty years and we’ll see who’s right.’

  Rosie smiled back. ‘All right. It’s agreed.’

  Bella stood up. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on.’

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’ Rosie offered.

  There was the sound of a baby crying. ‘Oh dear, Philip’s awake early. Yes, please do come and help, Rosie. It’s the nursery maid’s day off and once that young man wakes up, he wants to be with people.’

  The two men were left in the sitting room while Tez went to use the telephone.

  ‘Where can Patrick and Georgie be? It worries me that they’re not here,’ Dennis muttered.

  Martin just shook his head and spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

  When Dennis next looked, his friend was asleep.

  Nathan picked up the telephone in his office when it rang. ‘Nathan Perry here.’

  ‘It’s Tez. Do you have a moment to chat and if so, can you please make sure no one overhears us?’

  ‘Yes to both. I’ll go and shut my office door.’

  He came back to the phone and picked up the earpiece again. ‘All set.’

  Tez explained about the three people who’d turned up. ‘They seem honest to me, but from what they told me, I’m worried about Georgie.’

  ‘Not to mention her father.’

  ‘Hmm. I think Cotterell can take care of himself. I can make a good guess as to where he’s gone.’

  Nathan chuckled. ‘Yes, of course. Either Greyladies or Lady Berrens’ house. But won’t his enemies guess that too?’