The Victory Garden(74)
Emily carried the vegetables and Daisy and Mrs Trelawney took the apple pies down to the church hall. The altar steps were already piled with fruit and vegetable offerings, and Emily noticed there was one large marrow. Mrs Trelawney would not be pleased about that, she thought.
The harvest service of thanksgiving was conducted with lusty singing of “Come Ye Thankful People, Come.” The vicar preached a sermon saying that, in the toughest times, God still revealed his bounty to us. Afterwards, everyone assembled in the parish hall, where the tables were now covered in a fine array of food.
“It’s not like the old days, is it?” Emily heard someone repeat Mrs Trelawney’s words. “We always used to have a pig roasting on a spit.”
“The war will be over soon, so they say. Those Huns are running for their lives, and we’ve killed so many of them they’ll have to come to terms,” was the reply. “I’d say we’ve taught them a lesson.”
“But at what cost, Mrs Upton? At what cost, eh?”
There might not have been a pig roast, but there were egg and bacon pies, sausage pies, all manner of sandwiches and pickles and then jellies, blancmanges, rock cakes and fruit pies. Emily joined Alice and Daisy at a table beside Nell Lacey. Mrs Soper from the forge came to sit beside them.
“It’s all very well for them to be saying the war will be over soon and everything will go back to normal,” Mrs Soper said angrily. “It won’t go back to normal for me, will it? How am I supposed to cope with the blacksmithy, I’d like to know? We’re doing our best, but my husband’s father is now ninety. He knows the trade all right, but the strength is not there. And frankly, I’m not up to it either. I don’t see how we’ll get the place up and running again after the war ends. Not unless some willing young men come home, which I can’t see happening.”
A sudden thought struck Emily. She leaned across to Alice and whispered in her ear. Alice grinned and nodded. Emily turned to Mrs Soper. “We think we might know someone who can help you,” she said. “One of the land girls who worked with us was really big and strong. We think she could do the work of a man. She’s not the brightest, but if you showed her what to do, I think she might work out for you.”
“Really?” Mrs Soper looked hopeful. “Do you think she’d want to come to an out-of-the-way place like this?”
“I think she would. I don’t think there was anything for her at home, and she enjoyed our company. Should I write to her for you?”
“I’d be most grateful if you would, my dear,” Mrs Soper said. “I could certainly use any kind of help. You ladies coming here was a godsend.”
Emily noticed Mr Patterson, the schoolmaster, sitting alone at the end of one of the long tables. He was a slim, effete-looking man with a receding hairline, smartly dressed in suit and cravat, and he was eating a pasty in a fastidious way, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. Emily felt sorry for him, and at the same time had an idea. She got up and went over to him. “We haven’t met yet, but I’m Emily Kerr.” The lie was still hard to say out loud, and she felt herself blushing as she said it. “I’ve come to live in the estate cottage, as you have probably heard,” she said. “I wondered if I might ask a favour of you. The two women who have come with me have very poor reading skills. I wondered if I might borrow a beginning reading primer from the school so I could work with them in the evenings.”
The man rose to his feet and held out his hand to her. “How do you do, Mrs Kerr? Yes, my pupils have informed me that we have visitors in the village. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance. Perhaps you will be good enough to share a glass of my parsnip wine one evening. I am rather proud of my home-made wines, and the parsnip is particularly fine, I believe.”
Emily began to think that her evenings would never be her own, but the man had a guardedly eager look on his face. “I’ve never tried parsnip wine,” she said, “but I’d be delighted to sample it.”
“Splendid,” he said. “Shall we say tomorrow then?”
“If you like.”
“I will be happy to show you what reading materials I use for the children, as well as some stories that are suitable for a beginning reader.”
“Thank you. That will be perfect.”
“I commend you for wanting to help your fellow travellers.”
“Oh, I think it’s vital to be able to read,” Emily said. “I don’t know what I would do without books. I’ve been starved for them these past few months while I’ve been working with the Women’s Land Army. We’ve been so exhausted after dinner that we’ve fallen asleep straight away, and when we haven’t, there have been five other women in the room, all chattering.”
“So now you’ll finally have some peace and quiet, I’d imagine. I also have a good library of my own. You’d be welcome to inspect it and borrow anything that takes your fancy.”
Emily glanced up to see the vicar’s wife, Mrs Bingley, watching her critically. Perhaps she does not approve of my talking to an unmarried man, Emily thought, and tried not to smile. But she didn’t want the villagers to think of her as flighty. “I should go back to my friends,” she said. “Tomorrow evening then.”
As she walked away, Mrs Bingley stepped out to intercept her. “A word with you, Mrs Kerr,” she said. There was a strange, triumphant look in her eyes that Emily couldn’t quite interpret.