The Victory Garden(44)

The other two women came home after dark, delighted to find Emily reading, lying on her bed with a candle on the old trunk.

“Candles!” Daisy exclaimed. “I’m so glad we don’t have to fumble around in the dark no more. I have to confess I was a bit scared last night with that wind and all. It didn’t sound natural, did it? If Alice hadn’t been beside me, I’d have been a nervous nelly.”

“And speaking of Nellie,” Alice said. “We got along like a house on fire with Nell Lacey. She’s a good sort, you know. Worried sick about her husband, but don’t complain. None of them do. We met Mrs Soper from the forge, and she’s lost her husband and doesn’t know what she’ll do and who will take over as blacksmith. She has sons, but not near old enough to wield the hammer in the forge. But you know, in spite of everything, we all had a good laugh.”

“I’m glad you had a good evening,” Emily said, noting their animation.

“We did. Sorry you weren’t with us. So you survived your sherry party then.” Alice looked at her with pity. “Brave of you.”

“She’s lonely,” Emily said. “She’s lost everybody she loved. She has no one.” She hesitated, then added, “Do you mind if I take sherry with her every evening after our dinner? I said I couldn’t spend too long with her because I want to start teaching you to read better.”

“We don’t mind, do we, Daisy?” Alice said, giving Daisy a nudge. “Give me a gin and lime and a good natter rather than a sherry any time.”

That night, Emily lay in bed, watching the flickering light of her candle play on the ceiling. It was a warm, still evening with no breeze, and sweet scents drifted in through her open window. She could hear Alice and Daisy still talking and laughing downstairs. It’s not so bad here after all, she thought.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When the three women returned from their work the following day, they found the broken chairs had been replaced with three sturdy ones. There was a rug on the floor and another oil lamp had been provided.

“Thanks to you for getting along so well with the old lady,” Alice said. “This place is starting to look quite homely. If we’re here much longer, we’ll have a sofa and an aspidistra and pictures on the walls.”

“I wish we had some more clothes,” Emily said. “This uniform needs a good cleaning. I’m getting tired of wearing it, and I feel uncomfortable sitting on Lady Charlton’s nice furniture in it.”

“I wonder how much longer they’ll be needing us as land girls,” Daisy said. “I mean, we can’t do much in the field during the winter, can we?”

“And from what they are saying at the pub, the war won’t go on much longer,” Alice said. “The Germans are in complete retreat. Mrs Soper reckons they’ll want to make peace before the end of the year.”

“Thank God,” Emily said, smiling. Robbie would be back, and they’d get married, and she’d have a whole new life to look forward to. She had a sudden idea. “You two should come out to Australia with me,” she said. “I’ve heard it’s a wonderful life out there. Plenty of food and sunshine and not enough women to go around.”

“We might just take you up on that,” Alice said. “I can’t see myself going back to the Smoke. Not after this. You don’t know how people live there—like rats, all crammed together in dark little streets. That’s no way to live, is it?”

“And I’m not going back to Moorland Hall, whatever I do,” Daisy said firmly. “Not if it was the last place on earth.”

“Was it as bad as that? Worse than digging potatoes?” Emily asked.

Daisy nodded. “It wasn’t the work I minded. I was brought up to work hard. It was the master.”

“He was unkind?”

“No,” Daisy said angrily. “He couldn’t keep his hands off the servants. He had his way with one of the maids, Millie, and when she was in the family way, they sent her off somewhere. And then he started looking at me. And one morning, I had to carry the bathwater into his bathroom and he was there, naked. And he grabbed me. I managed to get away, but I’m not going back.”

“Of course you shouldn’t. Dirty old bastard,” Alice said angrily. “Don’t you worry, Daisy. Me and Emily will make sure you’re looked after. We won’t desert you.”

“You’re such good friends,” Daisy said, her eyes tearing up. “I never had good friends before. This has been a proper blessing to me.”

On Sunday, there were eggs for breakfast, and they went to church in the village. The church was surprisingly large for the size of the population, and light filtered in through old stained-glass windows. Emily looked up at the saints smiling down at them. The church smelled of old furniture polish, candles and the flowers in vases on the windowsills. She felt a moment of great peace as the tinted light surrounded her, as if it were a personal blessing. Afterwards, they met the Reverend Bingley, who shook their hands and welcomed them officially.

Luncheon was a big meal, a fish pie and marrow in a white sauce. Mrs Trelawney looked more disapproving than ever. “Imagine a Sunday lunch without a roast,” she said. “No joint of beef, no leg of lamb or pork. Instead, a bloomin’ fish pie! It’s an insult, that’s what it is.”