Elizabeth Elgin - A Scent of Lavender

‘Then I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea – if you’re brewin’.’ She returned the smile. ‘And to meet the lady of the house. I’m sorry I was late. Seven o’clock I was told to be here.’

‘That’ll be fine, till you get used to things, and oh – a rule of the house! You wash your hands after you’ve been in the cow shed. In the pump trough. Towel on the door; soap beside the pump. Very particular, Kate is.’

She would like Farmer Wintersgill, Ness thought as she lathered and rinsed; hoped she would like his wife, too. Yet she knew without a second thought that she would never like their son. And that was a pity, really, because she was going to have to work with him for years and years, maybe. For the duration of hostilities, she supposed. And how long that duration was going to last was anybody’s guess. Especially since Dunkirk, and the mess we were in now!

‘I’m sorry,’ Ness said when she had eaten a bacon sandwich and swallowed a mug of strong, sweet tea, ‘if I’m not goin’ to be very good at farming at first. Being in the country is new to me and I know I’ve got a lot to learn and that I’ll make mistakes. But I hope you’ll be patient with me.’

‘And the answer to that, lass, is that the woman who never made mistakes never did any work! You’ll learn, and I hope you’ll come to like it here,’ Kate Wintersgill said softly. ‘And don’t you take any nonsense from that son of mine. Just give back as good as you get! Now, want some toast? Another cup?’

‘Ooh, no thanks. That butty was lovely.’

‘Ah. Home-cured bacon, you see. Anyway, Rowley’s working in the top field, so can you help my man with the mucking out? It’s a messy job, but it’s got to be done. Have you got gum boots with you? If not, there’s plenty in the outhouse by the back door. There’ll be a pair to fit you. Off you go then, lass!’

Ness sighed. She had laid out her working clothes so carefully last night: dungarees and a pale blue shirt over a chair to avoid creasing, yet now here she was, folding her trouser-legs around her calves, shoving her feet into gum boots a size too small. And what she would look like when she had helped clean the cow shed was best not thought about. Thank heaven soap wasn’t rationed and that there was a wash house at the hostel if ever she needed it! She wondered, as she began to sweep, what the girls in the salon would say if they could see her now. Trying not to breathe too deeply, she shut Liverpool and everything connected with it from her mind.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ said her new employer, who cheerfully hosed water up walls and splashed it over the concrete floor.

‘Ar.’ She forced a smile then thought about the bacon sandwich and wanted to be sick. ‘Reckon I will, at that!’

Lorna received William’s first letter, which was very short.

Arrived safely, three hours late. This far, Army life doesn’t appear too bad. This brief note is to send you my address .

I miss you. Take care of yourself .

Lorna smiled tremulously, then taking the already-written letter, she added a postscript.

Thanks for yours. I miss you, too. Take care and write again as soon as you can .

Then she sealed the envelope and made for the pillar box. There was only one collection in Ainsty; at noon, when the red GPO van delivered parcels and envelopes too bulky for the postman, then emptied the pillar box outside the front gate of Ladybower House.

Soon her letter would be on its way to William, and she wondered why she had not mentioned that hardly had he been gone when Nance Ellery arrived with a land girl. But she knew she had not mentioned Ness because having got rid of troublesome evacuees, William would not be at all pleased to be told that his home had once again been invaded. And without his permission, too!

‘Hullo! Are you Mrs Hatherwood – does Agnes Nightingale live here?’

A young woman dressed in a short cotton frock stood at the gate. ‘I’m the warden of the hostel at Meltonby. I’ve brought you Agnes’s rations and a week’s billeting allowance. Think it’s best we do it on a weekly basis – not knowing how long she’ll be with you, I mean …’

‘Just as you wish. Ness – er – Agnes seems no trouble at all. Got herself up and off to work this morning without awakening me. I felt quite guilty.’

‘Then don’t, Mrs Hatherwood. You aren’t expected to wait on her, you know. And I’ll give her a bed at the hostel just as soon as I can.’

‘B-but I thought she was with me permanently.’ Hadn’t Nance said it would be either the land girl or children?

‘Only if you want her to be. I must say we’re full at the hostel, though, and it would help if she could stay permanently with you. Be nearer her work, too.’

‘Well – I’ve got a spare room and I don’t think Agnes will be any trouble.’ Not as much trouble as children. ‘Shall we give it a try for a month? See how things go?’

‘Very well. Next week I’ll leave you a ration card for four weeks when I bring the billeting allowance.’ She smiled, holding out her hand. ‘And thanks a lot.’

Lorna thought afterwards that she would have to tell William about Ness and that she had practically offered to have her in the spare room on a permanent basis. And then she reminded herself there was a war on and no one, not even William, had the right to expect that an Englishman’s home was his castle, because it wasn’t; not any longer. And she liked Ness. She was cheerful and appreciative and would be company for her, especially through a long, dark winter. Did she really have a choice when the war was going so badly for us, with Hitler’s armies waiting to invade. And France and Belgium and Holland and Norway and Denmark occupied. And as if we weren’t deep enough in trouble, Italy ganging up with Hitler and declaring war on Britain in the biggest back-stab since the Battle of Bosworth!

So she would tell William about Ness; she would have to. But she would not apologize for taking her in. Being stuck at the end of a lane in the back of beyond would not guarantee Ainsty’s safety if Hitler chose to invade or sent his bombers to fly over it!

‘Sorry, William.’ She picked up his photograph. ‘I love you dearly and I wish you hadn’t gone to war, but even in Nun Ainsty things must change.’

Every village, town and city was at war and it was up to her to make the best of it, like every other woman. And she would try, she really would, to take care of Ladybower so that when it was all over and William came safely home, they could carry on as before – have the child she wanted so much.

Gently she replaced the photograph then stood to gaze out of the window at a garden glorious with June flowers. The grass so green, the roses so thick and scented, and behind it Dickon’s Wood to shade it in summer and shelter it in winter from the cold north-easterly winds.

Dear Ladybower, in which she had grown up. She loved it passionately and could find it within her to hate anyone who would take it from her or bomb it or set it ablaze in the name of war. So she would care for it and fight to keep it until the war was over. And Ness, who had left her home to do her bit for the war effort, would be made welcome at Ladybower for as long as it took, and tonight, when she wrote again to her husband, she would tell him all about her and how lucky they were to have her and remind him, ever so gently, how much better Ness would be than the evacuees he’d been glad to see the back of.

But then, William had never really liked children – not other people’s. She hoped he would like his own – when they had them, that was. When the war was over. In a million years …

And she wasn’t weeping! She damn well wasn’t!