Elizabeth Elgin - Where Bluebells Chime

‘I’ll have a think about the hens, but first I think we should seriously consider getting some help for Catchpole.’

‘But how, Julia? They don’t consider gardening to be a reserved occupation.’ They had taken the garden apprentices into the militia and a waste of six years of training when you considered that two of them were in the infantry and one consigned to an army cookhouse.

‘No, but growing food is important and with a bit of help our kitchen garden could supply no end of vegetables and soft fruit. Anyway, I’m going to try.’

‘But where are we to find another gardener?’

‘You’ll see.’ It was such a mad idea, Julia supposed, she just might bring it off. ‘Tell you later,’ she smiled mysteriously. ‘And that was the postman, if I’m not mistaken. Bet you anything you like there’ll be a letter.’

From Drew, of course. No other letters mattered.

Daisy sat on the gate, waiting for Tatiana. It was where they usually met; halfway between Keeper’s Cottage and Denniston House, where Tatiana lived with her mother, Anna, with Karl, the big, black-bearded Cossack, to watch over them; was where, soon, Tatiana’s grandfather would be living when he handed over Pendenys Place to the Government.

Daisy hoped Rowangarth would escape. It would be awful having the military there, especially if they wanted Keeper’s Cottage, too.

But They could do anything they wanted now, and no one’s house – or car or boat, even – was safe if They decided they had greater need of it. For the war effort, of course. Mind, Mam thought it was a good thing about Pendenys and that Mr Edward would be better off living at Denniston. ‘All on his own in that great pile of slate and stone, like living in a cathedral.’

Daisy jumped off the gate as Tatiana arrived, red-faced from pedalling.

‘I am sick, sick, sick of old people,’ she announced dramatically, leaning her cycle against the hedge. ‘It was awful at Cheyne Walk!’

‘Well, you’re back home now,’ Daisy offered mildly because she was used to her friend’s fiery outbursts. Probably something to do with her being half-Russian.

‘Yes, thank God! Grandmother Petrovska was her usual awful self and Uncle Igor was rushing around making sure they weren’t going to be interned.’

‘But they won’t be. We aren’t at war with the Russians.’

‘Not yet, but we will be, Grandmother says. And don’t call them Russians, Daisy. They are Communists , not real Russians. They’ve made a pact with Hitler, you know.’

Daisy did know. Dada hadn’t been able to understand it. Communists and Fascists should be natural enemies, he’d said.

‘So what was so awful about staying with your grandma?’ Daisy demanded.

‘Oh, it was Grandmother, I suppose, being stubborn.’ Tatiana took a deep breath, sighing it out dramatically, leaning her elbows on the gate, gazing out over the field of ripening wheat. ‘Mother wants her to pack up and leave London – stay at Denniston for the duration. She thinks London will be heavily bombed soon. Stands to sense, doesn’t it? Hitler’s got to knock out London before he invades.’

‘We-e-ll, yes …’ It made sense, Daisy was bound to agree, running her tongue round lips gone suddenly dry.

‘And all the ports, too, Uncle Igor said.’

The ports, too, and Drew was near Plymouth.

‘So it was better, Mother said, for Grandmother to move out. Apart from the two aerodromes, there isn’t a lot around Holdenby for the Luftwaffe to waste its bombs on.’

‘So when is she coming?’ Daisy had met the autocratic Countess Petrovska and felt sorry for Tatty.

‘Oh, she isn’t. Refused point-blank. She said if she left Cheyne Walk, They would take it because there’d be no one living in it.

‘“I hef lorst my beautiful house in St Petersburg and my estate at Peterhof to the rabble. I vill not give up this one, too,”’ Tatiana mimicked. ‘And I suppose you can’t blame her. Drew said he’d hate it if the Communists had taken Rowangarth.’

‘But there aren’t any Communists here.’

‘No, but They might commandeer it, like Pendenys.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Tatty, don’t be so miserable!’

‘I can’t help it. It’s my Russian soul.’

‘Don’t be daft! You’re as English as I am.’

‘Half-English. I speak the mother tongue, don’t forget.’

‘Y-yes.’ Daisy was forced to admit it. Tatiana Sutton spoke the politely correct Russian learned from her mother but she was fluent, too, in the dialect spoken by Karl, a Georgian by birth. Tatiana, when provoked, had the advantage of being able to let fly a string of Russian swear words – learned from Karl – and get away with it. ‘But tell me – how was London?’

‘Poor old place – it seemed a bit bewildered. Barrage balloons in all the parks and sandbags everywhere. And it’s so completely dark now at nights. The shops haven’t a lot to sell. Mother didn’t buy a thing except a lipstick, and she had to stand in a queue for half an hour to get it. And there are uniforms everywhere. Such gorgeous men, and all of them going to war.’ She sighed loudly and with regret. Such a waste when she, Tatiana Sutton, hadn’t even been kissed yet – leastways, not with passion. ‘It makes you want to join up, doesn’t it?’

‘I suppose so. As a matter of fact,’ Daisy took a deep breath, ‘I have joined up.’

‘ Wha-a-t? You mean you’ll be leaving, too? But, Daisy, you can’t ! Drew’s gone, and Kitty and Bas can’t visit any more, and Keth’s stuck in America! If you go, there’ll be only me left out of the entire Clan!’

‘I know, and I’m sorry I did it. But don’t worry overmuch. They haven’t even acknowledged my application yet, and not a word about my medical. I could be months and months waiting.’

‘So what are you joining?’ Tatiana was piqued.

‘The Wrens, if they’ll have me. It’s got to be, you see, because of Drew. I hate working in that shop and I thought that if anything I could do would shorten the war by just one week, then I should do it. I want Keth home – but not till the war is over.’

‘Then that does it! If you can volunteer, so can I! I think I might go for the ATS. Well, the Suttons have always joined the Army, haven’t they?’

‘Until Drew – yes. But you can’t, Tatty! Have you thought about what your grandma would say?’

‘Oh, bugger Grandmother Petrovska!’ Tatiana could swear in English, too. ‘I’m sick of her and her everlasting black! Imagine – she’s still in mourning for Czar Nicholas and him dead more than twenty years!’

‘But it won’t be a bed of roses. Don’t expect it to be fun – in the Forces, I mean.’

‘Anything would be better than having Grandmother living at Denniston, because London will get bombed and she will have to leave.’

‘But your mother wouldn’t let you. You’re not twenty-one yet.’

‘Neither are you. Did your father give his permission? My mother will say I can, anyway.’

‘She won’t, and you know it. Dada didn’t sign for me to go. I sort of did it for him. He hit the roof!’

‘Then I shall sign Mother’s name. Aleksandrina Anastasia Petrovska Sutton. I know exactly how she does it.’

‘Oh, don’t let’s talk about the war! I’m afraid, really, about the invasion.’

‘So am I. They might treat us like they treated the Poles. And Grandmother wouldn’t help. She’d shout at them, if they came – all sorts of insults. We’d end up against the wall, being shot!’

‘Don’t say things like that, please. Let’s talk about Drew. Aunt Julia says he might be home on leave soon.’