‘Christ almighty, you’re already half an hour late for work. Can’t you at least manage to piss in your own time?’ Sam took in her shocked expression and sighed. ‘Outhouse is round the back. Then I want you up at that field earning your wage.’
Chapter 7
Edie took in the topography of the farm as she climbed over stiles, heading for the field Sam had directed her to. Some of the fields had been divided into makeshift pens using bales of straw, where those of Sam’s flock who had recently given birth were ensconced with their lambs. She could see Luca and another man weaving in and out of them, checking water supplies and giving the animals their morning feed. The other fields remained free-range, dotted over with ewes in various stages of pregnancy and those with older lambs.
When she arrived at the field where she was to be working, two Land Girls and a young, skinny lad were already there. The boy and one of the women were hard at work, each holding a sheep on its back while they cut away clumps of excrement from their rear ends. The second Land Girl sat on a stile nearby, smoking a cigarette. The women looked a few years older than Edie, and each had a stripe on her uniform denoting one year’s service with the Land Army.
Edie didn’t need to stretch her deductive powers to work out which one of her new co-workers might answer to the nickname Ava Gardner. The girl on the wall was in the same corduroy breeches and green pullover as she was herself, but Edie only wished she had the curves to fill them the same way. The woman’s pristine make-up and dark pin curls, tied up in a pink chiffon scarf, gave her an air of glamour that no amount of dirt could cover up.
‘Hullo. New blood,’ she said as Edie approached. She had a light Liverpudlian accent with a fun, teasing edge. The other two stopped what they were doing to look up at the addition to their numbers.
‘Um, hello,’ Edie said, bashful at the sudden attention from three pairs of eyes. ‘Sorry I’m late. I, er … I got lost.’
The girl on the wall laughed as the others left off what they were doing and came to join them. ‘Sam gave you a ticking off for that, I bet.’
‘Yes.’ Edie shook her head, scowling. ‘Honestly, he’s the rudest man! Does he talk to everyone that way?’
The blonde Land Girl, who was solid, ruddy and jolly-looking, nodded. ‘Don’t worry, you get used to him. I’m Vinnie, by the way.’ She nodded to her friend. ‘That’s Barbara on the wall, having one of her infamous two-hour fag breaks.’
Barbara shot her a look. ‘Ten minutes’ sit-down, is that too much to ask? I’ve been clipping sheep shit since the break of day.’
‘Well, give us one then, if we’re all having a rest.’
Barbara produced a packet of Player’s and shook out a couple for Vinnie and the boy.
She grinned when she noticed Edie’s awed gaze fixed on her carefully styled hair. ‘Beauty is duty, love. There’s more than one way to do your bit for the boys.’ She offered her the cigarette packet. ‘You want one?’
‘No, thanks. They, er, don’t agree with me.’ Edie shook hands with each of the women. ‘Edie. Nice to meet you both.’
‘You too.’ Barbara gestured to the boy, who was scuffing at the ground, his cheeks bright pink now he found himself in the presence of so many females at once. ‘This is Davy. He won’t be with us much longer, he’s just waiting for his chance to get out there and give the enemy a good hiding. Isn’t that right, Davy?’
The boy nodded shyly.
‘Which service do you want?’ Edie asked him.
‘Army,’ the boy mumbled, not making eye contact. ‘I was worried brass might try to make out I was reserved occupation ’cause I work on a farm, but my dad wrote and told them I’m only working here till I’m old enough to fight and there were plenty of wops at the camp could take my place. So they said I could be called up, once I’d turned eighteen. That was last month so I could be called for my medical any day now.’
He looked up at last, glowing with pride at the prospect of serving his country, and Edie smiled. But she felt a tug in her belly, all the same. The boy looked so … young. So small, still. He could easily have passed for two or even three years younger than his eighteen years.
‘Oh.’ Edie turned to Barbara on the wall. ‘Mr Nicholson wants you. At least, I assume he meant you.’
‘Heh. Ava Gardner?’
‘Yes, that’s who he asked for.’
‘We all get called by nicknames here. I’m Ava, Vinnie is Prop Forward –’
‘Because of my broad shoulders,’ Vinnie said, grinning as she flexed them. ‘Very nice, I’m sure.’
‘– and Davy just answers to “lad”,’ Barbara finished. ‘How about you?’
Edie scoffed. ‘I’m “London”, apparently. Is he not able to remember people’s names?’
‘He can when he wants to,’ Vinnie said. ‘I think that’s just his sense of humour.’
‘What about the Italians, what do they get called?’
‘The POWs don’t get nicknames,’ Barbara said. ‘Don’t ask me why. He treats them with more respect than the rest of us.’
‘And us being ladies too,’ Vinnie said, tilting her nose in mock offence.
‘Why’s that?’ Edie asked.
‘Who knows why he does anything? He’s a queer fish, Sam Nicholson.’
‘Best to just get on with your work, collect your money and not ask questions, Edie,’ Barbara remarked coolly, finishing her cigarette. ‘He isn’t a bad boss. Better than some we’ve had, anyhow.’
‘You’ve worked on other farms?’
‘We go where we get sent,’ Vinnie said. ‘Barb and I are billeted at the Land Girls’ hostel in Kirkton. They just pack a gang of us into a Tilly every morning and drop us where we’re needed. We’ve been with Sam for six months now though. It’s a good job, we’ve been glad to hang on to it.’
‘There are far worse people to work for, believe me,’ Barbara told Edie. ‘Farmers who won’t pay what you’re due, or try to get from you what they’re not getting from their wives, if you know what I mean. Sam pays us on time, serves up decent grub and doesn’t try to cheat us. Keeps his hands to himself for the most part. Appreciates what he’s got, with us and the POWs working for him, which is more than some do.’
‘What has he got?’
Barbara scoffed. ‘Cheaper labour than he had before, that’s what. If we were blokes we’d be on another six bob a week. The Italians don’t get the full rate either, despite working all the hours God sends.’
‘Where’s their camp?’ Edie asked.
‘Just north of Kirkton. The two here don’t go back to camp much at the moment though. They’ve been given special permission to bed down in one of the outbuildings during lambing so they can help with overnight births.’ Barbara jumped down from the wall. ‘I’d better go to Sam, before he gets into one of his moods. Bye, girls. Davy.’
Davy cast a resentful look at the farmhouse as Barbara strode off, whistling to herself. He’d sidled closer to Edie as they’d been talking, as if he could sense the protectiveness she couldn’t help feeling towards him.
‘My dad don’t like me working here,’ he told her confidentially.
‘Why not?’
‘He don’t like Sam. Nobody likes him round here, ’cepting the wops –’ He stopped when he caught Edie’s disapproving look. ‘Sorry, Miss, I know that’s not polite to say with ladies. The Italians, I mean. Them’re the enemy and he’s nicer to them than us. Even made ’em a church. Why’s he not in uniform? That’s what our dad wants to know.’
Vinnie shrugged. ‘Reserved occupation, isn’t it? Someone has to keep the farms running.’
‘’Most everyone else has gone,’ Davy said stubbornly. ‘He could hire a manager, someone who couldn’t fight. Not right able-bodied men should scrimshank their way out of fighting, hiding out in some safe country funk hole while others are getting bombed and shot at. You know what I heard?’
Vinnie shook her head. ‘You oughtn’t to spread rumours, Davy. You could lose your jo
b if he hears you.’
‘Who cares about that? I’ll be off soon any road.’ Nevertheless, Davy lowered his voice. ‘I heard old Pete Nicholson wouldn’t fight neither when his turn come round.’ He looked at Edie. ‘That was Sam’s great-uncle who had the farm before. Dodged the column in the last war. My dad heard he was a conchie.’
‘Lots of people are conscientious objectors for religious reasons, aren’t they?’ Edie said. ‘Quakers and people like that.’
‘What do you think about that?’ Vinnie asked her.
Edie hesitated. ‘I’ve not really thought about it much. I suppose I can understand that, not wanting to take a life.’
‘We’d be in a nice mess if everyone were to feel that way though.’
‘If they did, there’d be no war.’
‘Well, everyone on our side then. Other men have to go risk their lives. Why should COs get to pick and choose their battles?’
‘That’s all very well for us to say though, isn’t it?’ Edie said. ‘No one’s ever going to ask it of us.’
‘True. You’re wise beyond your years, Edie.’ Vinnie finished her cigarette and stamped it out. ‘Could you?’
‘I … don’t know.’ Edie tried to imagine a scenario where she might be asked to take a human life, and gave an involuntary shudder. ‘No. To be honest, I’m not sure I could.’
‘I suppose I’d do what I had to, if I was a man. Otherwise Hitler would have the world by the throat. But I don’t like to think of it.’
‘But us men have to,’ Davy said, lifting his chin as he claimed his right to be considered a man and not a boy. ‘And Pete Nicholson weren’t no Quaker. Cowardice probably runs in the family, that’s what my dad says. And where’s the rest of them? Where’s Sam’s people, where’d he come from? Maybe he’s not even one of us. Maybe he’s one of them.’
Vinnie laughed. ‘Don’t be daft.’
‘He’s not Applefield,’ Davy said with a dark look at the farmhouse, from which Sam and Barbara were emerging with a couple of border collies at their heels. ‘He turned up here with nobody, ’cept just one great-uncle who had this farm, and he weren’t born here neither. You can’t trust folk with no people. They could be anyone.’ With that, he picked up his shears and strode off.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Vinnie said to Edie when they were alone. ‘There’s a lot of paranoia round these parts about fifth columnists, Nazi sympathisers and the like. It’s fear, that’s all. Hard to blame people with everything that’s going on.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ But Edie had something else on her mind, something she hadn’t wanted to mention while the boy was present. ‘Vinnie – when Barbara said Mr Nicholson keeps his hands to himself for the most part. What does that mean, for the most part?’
Vinnie gave a wry half-smile. ‘It means that when there’s a lusty tup on the loose, a girl needs to watch herself. Keep her knees together.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Vinnie studied her for a moment. ‘You don’t, do you? How old are you, Edie?’
‘Twenty-one. Why, what has that to do with it?’
‘Plenty,’ Vinnie said, laughing. ‘Well, never mind, Barb and I will keep an eye out for you.’ She clapped Edie on the back. ‘All right, roll up your sleeves and I’ll show you how we do the clipping out.’
Edie took off her greatcoat and watched as Vinnie made a grab for one of the silver-fleeced Herdwicks. It tried to escape, but the Land Girl was faster. She caught hold of its fleece and guided it towards Edie, then wrestled it expertly into a semi-reclining position on its back. This didn’t seem to cause the sheep any discomfort, although it did look rather surprised.
‘So,’ Vinnie said. ‘It’s not the pleasantest job, I’m afraid. Actually, I wouldn’t put it past Sam to have started you on this as a test, see if you’re willing to get your hands dirty.’
‘Why, what is clipping out?’
‘Cleaning their bottoms up, basically,’ Vinnie said with a grin. ‘Not much fun but it is important. If the muck’s left clinging to their fleeces then maggots will burrow in and start eating their flesh, the poor loves. We need to cut away any dirty sections around the tail before they’re due to lamb.’ She raised one eyebrow. ‘Think you can handle that?’
‘Of course,’ Edie said, a little too quickly. If this was a test, she didn’t want to show any hesitation.
‘You’ll be able to do it by yourself with a bit of practice, but I think as you’re new to it, we’d better work as a pair this morning. I’ll hold her while you clip.’
Edie nodded and seized the clippers Barbara had left. She knelt by the sheep, wincing slightly at the pain of sinking to her poor stiff knees.
Edie hadn’t expected to enjoy the dirty job she’d been assigned, but actually clipping out was rather relaxing once you got used to the smell. She took a strange pride in seeing the expectant ewes all clean, knowing she’d helped to make them a little more comfortable. They were a placid bunch, the Herdwicks – or Herdies, as the locals called them – and sort of adorable, with their little white faces that always seemed to be smiling.
Vinnie kept up a constant flow of chatter while they worked, telling Edie all about life at the Land Girls’ hostel, her parents at home in Southport, and her friendship with Barbara, who Edie was surprised to learn wasn’t someone Vinnie had become acquainted with in the hostel but was a friend from schooldays. Vinnie also told her all she knew about the business of sheep farming here in the north country.
By the time two hours had passed, Edie had learned a lot. She knew that a tup was a male breeding sheep, while a yow was the local word for a ewe: a female that had given birth. A wether, or wedder in the dialect of the region, was a castrated male, and a shearling an animal yet to have its first shearing. A gimmer, Vinnie informed her, meant a female sheep – thus a gimmer shearling was a female sheep aged less than two years, while a gimmer hogg was a female lamb that had finished weaning. A bell wedder was an aged sheep kept to help heft the flock to its territory.
Edie shook her spinning head. ‘How will I ever remember all of this? I never knew there were so many different words for sheep!’
‘Wait until you get to the counting. Yan, tahn, teddera, meddera, pimp …’ Vinnie laughed at Edie’s bemused expression. ‘Well, first things first. Let’s work on your clipping out today and by summer I promise we’ll have you counting sheep like a native.’
Edie finished trimming the sheep she’d been attending to. She rubbed it down with antiseptic, then Vinnie let it get to its feet and it trotted back to its friends, none the worse for the experience.
Vinnie took hold of another nearby ewe and wrestled it on to its back. ‘Hey, are you busy on Saturday night? We’re having a little dance at the hostel. Some of the boys from the airbase are coming over, if you’re interested in that sort of thing.’
Edie frowned. ‘The airbase?’
‘Well, if you’re not one for mixed dancing don’t worry, nor am I,’ Vinnie said, catching her wary expression. ‘We have wizard teas though, and the girls are a lot of fun. Our roommate Potty Dotty’s got a bottle of gin stashed away that we can pass around. Come along, we’d love to have you there. You are one of us, after all.’
‘I’ve got a curfew,’ Edie said, pulling a face. ‘My landlady insists I’m home by ten.’
‘Not on Saturday nights, surely.’
‘That’s the Saturday curfew. It’s nine on a weekday.’
‘Crikey. She’s strict.’
‘I know, and a bit scary too. I wish I could stay with you at the hostel.’ Vinnie’s tales of the japes and tricks the girls got up to had made hostel life sound like those boarding school stories in the Girl’s Own paper that Edie had devoured as a child.
‘Well, living conditions are rather on the spartan side. We’re four to a room, bedding down on straw-stuffed palliasses with just a couple of army blankets each. Bloody freezing.’ Vinnie shuddered at the memory. ‘We have a lark though. What are your digs like in the p
osh house?’
‘I can’t complain. Mrs Hewitt’s strict but she’s made me cosy enough,’ Edie said, thinking of her fluffy eiderdown.
‘Anyway, you can still come to the party for a little while. It won’t take more than half an hour on your bike, and we’ll pile you back into the saddle at half past nine before you get into trouble. How does that sound?’
‘Lovely,’ Edie said, although she was certain that by Saturday night all she’d really want to do would be to fall into bed. But Vinnie seemed genuinely keen to have her attend, and she wouldn’t like to hurt her new friend’s feelings. ‘Thank you, I’d love to come.’
Vinnie frowned. ‘Hullo.’ She let go of her sheep, which took immediate advantage of its liberty to jump to its feet and trot off. Vinnie hardly seemed to notice, shielding her eyes as she peered into the distance.
‘What is it?’ Edie asked, standing up.
Vinnie nodded to the corner of the field, where Edie could just make out a little black dot. ‘Early arrival, it looks like.’
Her eyes widened. ‘A lamb?’
‘That’s right. Come on.’
Edie dropped her shears and jogged to keep up with Vinnie as they headed to where the lamb was nestled in the grass, being given a thorough licking by its mum.
When they got there, Edie knelt down beside it. She tried not to simper – she wasn’t going to get far as a Land Girl if she swooned at the sight of every baby animal she laid eyes on – but as a born lover of all things fluffy and four-legged, she couldn’t help it. The lamb was so tiny, its mother glowing with the sheep equivalent of pride as she cleaned it up.
‘What do we do?’ Edie whispered to Vinnie. She’d been dreading this part. There hadn’t been a great deal about lambing in her Land Girl training, which had a definite bias in favour of dairy and arable farming. But Vinnie seemed strong and capable, so if Edie just followed her lead then hopefully she could learn all about it without exposing her ignorance on the subject to that grumpy farmer.
‘Hmm. She’s being very rough with him,’ Vinnie said as she watched the new mum. ‘She’s going to mother him to death if she’s not careful.’
Edie's Home for Orphans Page 6