‘I don’t have much choice. It’s the only posh frock I brought.’
‘Then today is your lucky day, Edie Cartwright, because I’ve got a range of lovely dresses I’m sadly now too huge to wear. I think we must be about the same size.’ She looked down at her protruding tummy. ‘Well, once upon a time.’
She went to her wardrobe and started rifling through.
‘Not that I’m sure your blue silk isn’t lovely, but green is really your colour, with all that gorgeous auburn hair.’ Tilly cast it an envious look. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are, Edie.’
Edie reached up to touch her hair. ‘You mean it?’
‘Certainly. I’d kill for a lovely rich colour like that. Thank goodness for dye, eh?’
‘I hated being a redhead when I was a kid,’ Edie confided. ‘The other children called me Carrot. It got me into a lot of trouble once.’
‘Can hair get you into trouble?’
‘Mine can,’ Edie said, laughing. ‘When I was fourteen I dreamed of being a platinum blonde, like Jean Harlow. One day my friend Susan tried some of the dye her mum used on me. Only it didn’t make me a platinum blonde so much as a platinum … green. My aunt was livid when I came home looking like someone’s prize-winning leek.’
Tilly laughed. ‘I wish I’d been there to see that.’
‘Well, at least it meant the end of Carrot. After that I was Edie Cabbagehead until the end of school.’
‘Children pick on anyone different. That doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful. The red hair, I mean, not the green.’ Tilly produced an emerald-green dress with a sweetheart neckline from her cupboard. ‘Speaking of which, this is the frock for you.’
Edie shook her head. ‘Oh, no. I couldn’t wear anything like that.’
‘Why not?’
‘I haven’t got the figure to fill it. I’ll look like a little girl who’s raided her mum’s wardrobe.’
Tilly laid the dress down and rested her hand on Edie’s shoulder. ‘Nonsense. You’ll look beautiful, because you are beautiful.’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘You are, Edie. I wish you could see yourself as others do.’ Tilly sat beside her on the bed. ‘Will you promise to do something for me?’
‘What is it?’
‘Promise first, then I’ll tell you.’
Edie laughed. ‘That hardly seems fair.’
‘You trust me, don’t you?’
‘All right, if you’re going to cheat. I promise.’
‘Then wear this dress tonight, and your hair and make-up just how I tell you. Call it an experiment.’
‘What’s the experiment for?’
‘You’ll see. Just wear it, as a favour to me.’
‘Well …’
‘Edie. You did promise,’ Tilly said, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’re not the sort of friend who goes back on a promise, are you?’
Edie shook her head, smiling. ‘You’re wicked.’
‘Then we’re agreed.’ Tilly picked up the dress and laid it over Edie’s knees. ‘Put it on, then we’ll do your make-up.’
There was a knock at Tilly’s door just as she was putting the final touches to Edie’s pencilled brows.
‘Who is it?’ she called.
‘It’s Prue. Can I come in?’
‘Yes, please do.’
The door opened and Prue entered. Edie blushed at being seen in all her borrowed finery. She had an idea Prue would probably disapprove of parties and sweetheart necklines, but her landlady didn’t look shocked to see her dressed up; only surprised.
‘Well!’ she said, raising her eyebrows. ‘Edith, I wouldn’t have known you. Are you going out?’
‘Yes, there’s a dance at the WLA hostel. Um, if that’s OK. Sorry, I should have asked first.’
‘Don’t be silly. You can’t miss the chance to have fun. Just be sure and get home by ten.’
‘I will.’
Prue turned to Tilly. ‘I was going to ask if I ought to set the dining table, but it seems Edith won’t be joining us for dinner. Never mind, we can eat in the kitchen.’
‘We’ll all be here for Sunday dinner tomorrow though,’ Tilly said.
‘Oh! That’s right, I meant to tell you,’ Prue said, pressing a hand to her forehead. ‘I’ve invited the Italians to join us. I hope that won’t be a problem.’
‘Luca’s coming? And Marco?’
‘Yes, I thought it would be a nice gesture. It must be hard, being so far from home.’
‘That was a kind thought.’ Tilly reached out to press Prue’s arm. ‘Thank you.’
‘Will there be enough food though, with the evacuees to feed as well?’ Edie asked. ‘We only have rations for four.’
Prue’s brow darkened. ‘The evacuees. Yes. I’d forgotten about them.’ She turned to Tilly. ‘Will there be enough?’
‘Thanks to Sam’s chicken, I believe we can make it stretch,’ Tilly said. ‘I can do cock-a-leekie soup with barley to start, then hopefully no one will mind that the main course is a bit smaller than usual.’ She finished applying Edie’s mascara and stood back to survey her handiwork. ‘What do you think, Prue? Isn’t she a beauty?’
‘She’s certainly immensely improved by a fortnight’s country living,’ Prue said. ‘Already there’s more colour in her cheeks. Or is that rouge?’
‘No, it’s embarrassment,’ Edie said, blushing furiously. ‘I don’t think I’m a rouge sort of person.’
Prue nodded. ‘Very wise. A fair complexion like yours is best left as nature intended.’
‘What ought I to do with her hair?’ Tilly asked Prue.
‘Mercy, dear, it’s no use asking me. I stopped keeping up with the new fashions decades ago. Or centuries ago, it sometimes feels like.’ Prue tilted her head to appraise Edie, who was surprised to note that her eyes had kindled with interest in much the same way Tilly’s had. ‘I do like the way Miss Hayworth wears hers though, swept to one side in that sophisticated way.’
‘Oh, yes! Perfect,’ Tilly said, clapping her hands. ‘Just the thing for Edie’s face shape, and we won’t need to set it either.’
‘Well, I’ll leave you two to get on,’ Prue said, a note of regret in her voice. ‘You don’t want an old lady like me interfering. I’ll see you for dinner, Matilda.’
Tilly raised an eyebrow at Edie, who took the hint.
‘No, stay, please,’ Edie said. ‘I’d love a second opinion. Tilly wants to doll me up a bit more than will suit me, I think.’
‘Well …’
‘Please. As a favour to me.’
‘If you really believe it would be helpful,’ Prue said, looking pleased. ‘I can certainly spare the time. Yes, I will stay.’
When Tilly and Prue had finished getting her ready, Edie completed her chic party outfit with the rather incongruous additions of her Land Army greatcoat and wellingtons, to ensure she didn’t get splashed with mud cycling over to the large farmhouse where her fellow Land Girls were lodging.
The weather was fine that evening, the sun illuminating the countryside with a mellow golden glow. Spring was evident everywhere: in the scent of bud and blossom, the creeping green and new life. Every field Edie passed seemed to contain mothers with their lambs, the parents grazing contentedly while their boisterous offspring sprang into the air in that curious way they have, heads tossing while they kicked their back feet in a joyous celebration of being alive. With a lighter heart than she’d had in a long time, Edie realised she had scarcely had a coughing fit all day.
She didn’t have too much trouble locating the hostel, arriving just after six, when the girls would be sitting down to their evening meal. Edie hesitated at the door, wondering whether she ought to just march in, when a voice called to her.
She looked around to see Vinnie’s smiling face poking out of a window. ‘There you are, Edie! Come in and get some grub in your tum. We’ve been looking out for you this quarter of an hour.’
Edie did as she was told. The front door opened into a hallway, wh
ere she removed her coat and wellies and slipped on the satin pumps Tilly had lent her, then went through the open door to the dining room.
‘Sweetheart. So glad you could make it,’ Vinnie said, coming forward to embrace her. She held her at arm’s length. ‘Bloody hell, Edie. You scrub up, don’t you?’
‘She’s not wrong,’ Barbara said as she kissed Edie on each cheek. ‘None of us will get a look all night once the boys arrive.’
Edie blushed at the unfamiliar sensation of being complimented, and the proud, if slightly frightening, knowledge that for once in her life the flattery might actually be deserved.
There was a mirror on one of the walls, and Edie could see a strange girl – no, woman – in a glamorous green dress with sophisticated side-swept hair looking back at her. She’d never have recognised the figure as herself, if it hadn’t matched the reflection presented to her by the mirror in Tilly’s bedroom before she left.
On those occasions she’d let Alfie escort her to their local dance hall so they could make up a foursome with Susan and her boyfriend of the month, Edie had always been very much the wallflower. She preferred it that way, hiding behind her friends, hoping not to be noticed. Alfie always claimed her for every dance beforehand anyhow, so even if one of the other young men should, out of politeness, ask her to stand up with them, she had the perfect excuse to demur.
But there was no Alfie to look after her tonight. What would she do if one of the RAF boys asked for a dance? Did she dare stand up? It was all new territory and she had no idea how to navigate it.
‘Come park your little bottom over here,’ Vinnie said, taking her hand to guide her to the dining table where around a dozen other girls were tucking into their evening meal. ‘You picked a good day to visit. It’s toad in the hole tonight.’
‘With actual toad and everything – two whole sausages each,’ Barbara said. ‘And spotted dick for pud. We always eat well here.’
Edie settled in the seat they pressed her into, between her two friends, and Barbara went to the kitchen hatch to get her her meal.
‘Let me introduce you to everyone.’ Before Edie could protest Vinnie was banging her fork against her water glass, and the noise level dropped as all eyes turned towards her. ‘Ladies, may I present Edie Cartwright, our comrade in arms. Best damn sheep-shit-shearer this side of Windermere.’
There was a loud cheer and a few of the girls clinked their glasses together in a toast, making Edie laugh.
‘I won’t introduce all these reprobates now,’ Vinnie said to her. ‘You’ll never remember names if I just reel them off. Besides, you’ll get to know everyone in time. This won’t be your only visit, I hope.’
A girl in round spectacles seated on the other side of Barbara’s empty chair leaned across to Edie.
‘Here you are, rookie,’ she whispered, taking a Thermos flask from under the table. ‘Have a little gin to wet your whistle.’
‘Thank you, but I’d better not.’
‘Methodist, are you?’
‘No. It’s just that I’ve never really, um …’ Edie trailed off. She was embarrassed to admit that her experience with alcohol was limited to an occasional glass of tonic wine, administered by Aunt Caroline when she felt faint.
‘A drop won’t hurt,’ the woman said, tipping a generous measure into Edie’s empty water glass. ‘It’ll help take the edge off your nerves before the lads arrive – I can see you’re a shy one.’
Maybe Sam had been right, Edie reflected. Maybe she was a prig. There was certainly a lot in life she hadn’t experienced. With a grateful nod to the woman, she took a sip of the gin.
Golly, it was strong! She tried not to cough. Wouldn’t you normally mix something in with it? But all the other girls seemed to be drinking theirs neat, and Edie didn’t want them thinking she was a prig too.
The woman with the Thermos introduced herself as Dotty, Barbara and Vinnie’s roommate. She kept up a lively flow of conversation, so that Edie was feeling a little windswept by the time Barbara returned with a generous plate of toad in the hole, gravy and mashed potatoes.
‘Thanks, Barbara,’ she said. ‘Do I need to pay or anything?’
‘Certainly not. You’re our guest so there’s nothing for you to do tonight but enjoy yourself.’
Edie jumped as something soft brushed against her legs. She leaned down to look under the table, and a single green eye blinked lazily back at her.
‘A cat! Does it live here?’
Vinnie laughed. ‘Sorry, I should’ve warned you there’d be competition for your toad. This is Princess, our unofficial mascot. The building’s owners keep a couple of moggies around to deal with mice, but Princess is the only one clever enough to have worked out we’re too soft to deny her a few scraps at feeding time.’
Edie tickled Princess’s ears, then slipped her a bit of sausage from her toad in the hole. The cat purred, pressing her nose against Edie’s hand. She seemed a friendly soul, although her missing eye made her look a bit of a rogue.
‘What happened to her eye?’ Edie asked.
‘Who knows?’ Barbara said. ‘Got on the wrong side of a particularly nasty mouse, I expect. Come on, eat up. The menfolk will be arriving in less than an hour and we need to push the table back to make room for dancing.’
The men turned up around half past seven. With eight strapping RAF lads and nearly twice as many buxom Land Girls, it was a tight squeeze to get everyone in, but none of the young people complained about the press of hot bodies. In fact, they seemed to like it. The men were hardly through the door before they’d been commandeered as partners and dragged on to the makeshift dancefloor, while the hostel warden – a jolly middle-aged soul who seemed to enjoy watching her boisterous charges having fun – struck up a lively dance tune on a piano in the corner of the room.
Edie, feeling suddenly shy, retreated to a small table. Vinnie joined her, and the two of them watched Barbara as she swung her shapely hips around an awestruck-looking flying officer.
‘The lucky sod doesn’t know what’s hit him,’ Vinnie said. ‘It must be nice to be beautiful. Not that I need to tell you, of course.’
Edie felt she should say something complimentary in return, but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound like flattery. So instead she asked, ‘Does Barbara have a lot of boyfriends?’
‘Is she fast, do you mean?’
‘Oh no, I didn’t –’
Vinnie laughed. ‘I’m teasing, Edie.’ She shrugged. ‘She has a lot of boys keen on her, naturally. No steady though, and no casual flings. She likes the compliment of being admired, but romances aren’t something that appeal to her. To either of us.’
Edie sipped at her gin, the harsh, burning sensation in her throat making her cough. Being unused to it, she was already feeling a little light-headed.
‘What did the two of you do before you joined the Land Army?’ she asked Vinnie.
‘Barb was a shorthand typist. I was behind the counter at Woolworth’s.’ She smiled as she watched Barbara energetically kicking her legs while she danced, almost like one of the gambolling lambs outside. ‘I never knew there could be work like this, out in the open air surrounded by all this beauty. I couldn’t go back to the other kind now.’
‘Will there still be farm work though, after the war?’ Edie wondered. ‘For us, I mean. When the men come home they won’t need us any more.’
‘Barb and I have got a plan,’ Vinnie confided. ‘We’re going to try for a place of our own, with some savings we’ve put aside. Just a small cottage, and a little plot of land. A few chickens, vegetables, a cow – enough to be self-sufficient, with some produce to sell so we can pay our way. The war’s an evil business, but we can at least be grateful for this: it taught us a trade that allows us to keep ourselves. Thanks to the Land Army, we needn’t ever be dependent on anyone else to support us.’
‘You want to marry though, surely?’
Vinnie shrugged. ‘No. Why should we? Men … I suppose I like them we
ll enough, the ones I count as friends. But when it comes to all the rest of it, Barb and I are happy enough with just our two selves.’
‘Yes, but to be an old maid,’ Edie said, shuddering as she thought of the unappealing vision of spinsterhood exemplified by her Aunt Caroline. ‘As a life it just seems so … I don’t know, lonely.’
‘We won’t be lonely while we have each other,’ Vinnie said, smiling slightly. ‘I don’t see why marriage should be served up as the only aim of a woman’s life. Besides, there’s no bloke whose company we’d ever prefer to one another’s, and neither of us want children. I know it’s not very orthodox, but it’s all we want out of life.’
Chapter 16
One of the RAF chaps, who had held off dancing so far to help the old girl on piano turn her music, now approached Edie and Vinnie’s table.
‘Rob.’ Vinnie stood up to greet him with a chummy punch on the shoulder. ‘Nice to see you, feller. Not dancing tonight?’
‘There didn’t seem any point while you were keeping the prettiest girl in the room all to yourself.’ He took off his cap and nodded to Edie. ‘Can I get an introduction to your charming friend, Vin?’
‘If you like. Edie, this is Flight Lieutenant Robert Gill, an old pal. He’s been coming to our little hops here for absolute donkey’s. Rob, this is Edie Cartwright, the new girl at Larkstone Farm. And she’s under mine and Barb’s protection so be a gent.’
‘Aren’t I always?’ He smiled at Edie. ‘How do you do, Miss Cartwright? It is Miss, I hope.’
She smiled back. ‘It is, but Edie will do just fine.’
Edie stood to offer a hand, which Rob chose to press to his lips rather than shake.
‘So now we’re such old, old friends, how about a dance?’ he asked with an ingratiating grin.
‘Oh, no, I don’t really,’ Edie said, feeling that familiar heat colouring her cheeks. ‘You and Vinnie go.’
‘But I’m not asking Vinnie – no offence, old girl,’ he said, giving Vinnie’s back a hearty slap. ‘I’m asking you. Come on, Edie, what do you say? I promise on my honour as a pilot not to tread on your toes.’
Edie's Home for Orphans Page 14