The Victory Garden(24)

“What is?” Emily asked. She started to tip the potatoes into the waiting sack.

“You’re leaving this fiasco. Daddy’s arranged a proper job for you with a solicitor in Exeter.”

“You’ll board with his family during the week and come home to us at weekends,” her father said. “Mr Davidson says he’ll even train you to use a typewriting machine. That will be a useful skill, won’t it?”

Emily fought to stay calm. She was conscious that the other women were observing her with interest. “You have no right to interfere like this, Daddy,” she said. “I’m over twenty-one, able to make my own decisions, and I’m staying on here. I’m needed. If these potatoes aren’t picked, they’ll rot, and the country is already desperately short of food.”

“A job that any low-class girl could be doing and should be doing,” Mrs Bryce said. “But not someone who was reared for better things. You surely can’t tell me you’d rather be toiling in the rain and mud than helping a solicitor in a safe and dry office?”

“I can’t say it’s particularly fun at the moment, but on the whole, yes, I am enjoying it. And I’m performing a valuable service for my country.”

Mrs Bryce gave an exasperated sigh. “Say something, Harold. Tell her to come with us immediately.”

“I will say something.” Mr Bryce frowned. “If you persist in disobeying your parents, then you are on your own. If it’s your life, then you lead it. You will no longer be welcome at our house.”

Emily took a deep breath to calm her rapid heartbeat. “Very well.” She held his gaze, chin stuck out defiantly. “If that’s what you want. But I will not be bullied or dictated to. I’m not a child any more, and I’m prepared to make my own way and my own mistakes if necessary.” She looked up as Daisy staggered towards her with a full basket. “Over here, Daisy. Here, let me help you. Get the sack.”

“Come, Marjorie. You’re getting wet, and we are wasting our time,” Mr Bryce said.

Her mother hesitated, turned to leave, then swung back again. “It’s that boy, isn’t it? That Australian. I know you’re still seeing him against our wishes. We checked with the hospital he was sent to. He’s the one that’s put these rebellious ideas into your head.”

“No, Mummy. The ideas were already there. I just had no way to implement them before,” Emily answered as she held open a sack to receive potatoes.

“Then good luck to you, that’s what I say,” Mrs Bryce said. “I hope you will enjoy living in squalor in the depths of Australia.”

With that, she stalked off, her dainty shoes slithering in the mud.

Emily noticed her hands were trembling as she held open the sack. She felt as if she might be sick. They were her parents, after all. Her home. A place where she had once been loved and protected. She fought back the temptation to call after them, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I love you.” But saying those things would mean giving up Robbie, giving up this work, and she knew she wasn’t going to do either.





CHAPTER TEN

Crammed together in the back of the van on the way home, the other girls crowded around Emily.

“Was that your mum and dad?” Maureen asked.

Emily nodded. She had been in shock and close to tears ever since the encounter. She didn’t dare herself to speak or she was afraid she might cry now.

“They were certainly going at you, weren’t they?” Alice went on. “What was all that about?”

Emily took a deep breath. “They had come to take me away,” she said. “They think this kind of work is beneath me. They’d gone behind my back and arranged to have me released. They’d even found me a job in a solicitor’s office.”

“And you didn’t take it?” Maureen asked. “Are you out of your mind, my girl? A good job in a nice dry office and maybe a lawyer husband in your future?”

Emily had to laugh at this. “Mr Davidson is seventy if he’s a day, and yes, I suppose it would have been a good job in many ways. But I’d already agreed to do this and I’m not letting anyone down.”

“Good for you,” Ruby said. “We’d miss you if you went away.”

“She looked like a right old cow, your mum, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Alice said. She put a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, love. You’ve got us now.”

Miss Foster-Blake was waiting for them when they arrived back and were taking off their muddy boots and sodden mackintoshes in the mudroom behind the farmhouse. “Well done, ladies. A tough day’s work and you came through admirably . . .” She broke off when she saw Emily. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you again,” she said. “Your father pulled strings for you.”

“Strings I chose to ignore,” Emily said. “I made a commitment here. I’m not backing out of it, whatever my parents want.”

To her surprise, Miss Foster-Blake smiled. “Well done. That takes spunk. And duty and loyalty. I like that. You’ll do well in life, Miss Bryce.” As Emily headed into the house, she called to her, “Oh, and a letter came for you today. From your young man, I believe.”

Emily ran up the stairs and snatched up the envelope from the table. Robbie wasn’t as good at writing letters as she was, but each note from him was precious to her.