The Victory Garden(48)

“People say a lot of things they don’t really mean. I’m sure your parents will change their minds when they see their child in such distress,” Miss Foster-Blake said. “Any parent would. I’m sure they have wanted the best for you all along.”

“They didn’t want me to marry Robbie,” Emily said. “Now my mother will gloat and say it was all for the best, and I couldn’t stand that.”

“So you’d rather stay on here?”

Emily nodded. “I want to work so hard that I don’t have time to think. And these women are my family now.”

“As you wish,” Miss Foster-Blake said. “But my offer still stands. I will send Jenkins to the doctor and have him prescribe a sleeping powder for you today, at least.”

Emily allowed herself to be led up to her bunk and tucked in like a small child. As soon as she was left alone, she retrieved the little leather box from under her pillow. She took out the thin gold band and slipped it on to her finger. “Mrs Robbie Kerr,” she whispered. The sleeping powder arrived and did the trick. She slept for twelve hours, not hearing the other women come to bed or rise early the next morning.

When she opened her eyes, it was to a rainswept sky that echoed her mood. She retrieved the article in the newspaper. “Brave Australian flying ace, Robert Ferguson Kerr of New South Wales.” She kept reading it over and over, as if in doing so she might read a different outcome, that in spite of his plane going down in flames he managed to survive. But the article never changed. He was dead. Gone forever. She would never see that cheeky smile again, never hear that deep Aussie voice saying, “You’re my girl.”

Miss Foster-Blake poked her head around the bedroom door. “Ah, you are awake. Come and have a good breakfast. The farmer has supplied us with eggs.”

Emily sat at the oilcloth-covered table and dipped a finger of toast into a boiled egg, but she found it hard to swallow. Miss Foster-Blake looked at her with sympathy. “You don’t have to go back to work right away,” she said. “Take a few days off. Go into Tavistock or Plymouth—”

“No!” Emily said more violently than she had intended. “You don’t understand. I have to work. I have to work so that I don’t have time to think.”

“I do understand,” Miss Foster-Blake said. “We lost two of my nephews—they were brothers—within a week of each other. Such bright, fun-loving boys. I know a little of your pain. All I can say is that you are amongst friends here. Although I still think that you should be at home. I can easily arrange for it—”

“No,” Emily said again, and this time remembered her manners to add, “thank you. Please do not write to my parents or tell them about this.”

“They will see it in the newspapers, I’m sure. Your young man was quite a hero. He saved lots of lives.” She looked long and hard at Emily’s face, noticing the defiantly stuck out chin. Then she sighed. “But I respect your decision.” She put a hand on Emily’s shoulder. “When you have finished your breakfast, you shall come and help me with paperwork. They are sending us new recruits.”

“What will you do with them?” Emily asked. “Isn’t the growing season almost over?”

“Winter vegetables to be planted,” Miss Foster-Blake said. “And some of these girls will train in forestry. Sawing up fallen trees and lopping off dangerous branches. That sort of thing.”

The women returned from their work, red-faced from the wind and soaking wet.

“Blimey, I thought I’d be blown away out there,” Alice said.

“What were you doing?”

“We’re picking apples, love. I was up a ladder, throwing them down to the ladies below, and there was this ruddy great gust of wind. If I hadn’t clung on to the tree, I’d have been a goner.”

“She does exaggerate,” Ruby said. “The tree was scarcely taller than us.”

The others laughed, and Emily tried to smile. She looked around. “Where’s Maureen?” she asked.

“Oh blimey, you didn’t hear about her?” Alice glanced at the others.

“What happened?” Emily asked.

“She sneaked out without permission and went into Plymouth to meet a sailor,” Ruby said with great glee. “And Miss Foster-Blake caught her climbing in through the window in the early morning. Dismissed her on the spot. Sent her packing.”

“So where did she go?” Emily asked, wondering what she would have done in the same circumstances.

“Home to Ireland, so I believe. She was asking for trouble, that one, wasn’t she? Always after the boys.”

“I, for one, will miss her,” Alice said. “She was always cheerful, wasn’t she? Made us laugh.”

I’ll miss her, too, Emily thought, and the unfairness of the situation struck her. Maureen had done what she had done—stayed out all night. But Miss Foster-Blake had believed Emily to be a good girl and Maureen to be a bad one. She had accepted Emily’s excuse even though—Emily felt her cheeks flushing—she and Robbie had done what Maureen probably had not. And the memory of that sweet, passionate moment flooded back to her. I will never lie in a man’s arms again, she thought.

The next day, she awoke with the others as early morning sun streamed in through the window. She sat up, reaching for her toilet bag, and then it all came flooding back to her. Moving like an automaton, she grabbed her bag and stumbled after the others into the bathroom. She found it impossible to swallow more than a mouthful of the stodgy porridge, and was hardly aware of lining up with the others as they climbed on to an old wagon to be taken to the apple orchard. The wagon had been used for dung, and the women were crammed close together. Emily found the smell, coupled with the unwashed odour of the women, to be overwhelming. She leaned out as far as she could, gulping in the fresh, cool breeze. I would be better off at home, she thought in a weak moment. She pictured her pink and white bedroom, the lace curtains, the sweet smell of roses wafting in through her window. And long soaks in a big bathtub, and lots of dresses hanging in her wardrobe and dainty shoes to wear. She had almost convinced herself that she wanted to go home, until she pictured her mother’s triumphant face. Her mother telling her that she was better off without Robbie and now she could look for someone more suitable. No, that could not be borne.