Chapter Five #2
‘Blimey, talk about amazing, Grace,’ Mrs Newton exclaimed, stopping beside their table to congratulate the Land Girl on her singing ability. ‘You should be singing professionally, my girl. That was bloomin’ marvellous.’
Mr Bailey had followed her, and he also stopped to smile at Grace. ‘Thank you for that, young lady. What a lovely voice you have. It brought tears to my eyes.’ He reached across to shake the girl’s hand in a friendly manner. ‘Hope you’re settling in well here in Porthcurno.’
After that, everyone wanted to stop at their table and shake Grace’s hand, or ask questions about where she’d come from and if she’d ever sung professionally, or simply stare at the newcomer, silent and bolt-eyed, too overawed to say a word.
‘I had no idea what a talented singer you were,’ Caroline whispered shyly in her ear when at last the hall started to empty and the wave of hand-shakers and well-wishers were filing out into the cold October night with their raffle prizes. ‘That took my breath away.’
Grace nudged her in the ribs, grinning. ‘Oh, not you too.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s just I spent my childhood being asked to sing for relatives or the neighbours, and then in the church choir,’ Grace went on.
‘I love singing, but it’s always so painful afterwards, people coming up and telling me how good I am.
Honestly, I love singing, but I hate all that attention.
’ Abruptly, she stood up. ‘Never mind … Shall we get going? Looks like it’s kick-out time.
’ She collected the last cups and saucers on their table and bore them away to be washed up, Caroline hurrying after her with milk jugs and a sugar bowl.
‘I never thought of it like that. But I perfectly understand. It makes me queasy when everyone turns to look at me … People call me shy, but that’s not true.
It’s just much easier to say nothing and keep your head down.
’ Caroline rummaged in the kitchen for the containers they’d brought down from the farm; Mrs Postbridge would be on the warpath if they failed to take them back home.
‘I won’t say another word on the subject, I promise. ’
They walked outside to join the others but found Tilly squeezing into the back of Mr Bailey’s big car beside Violet and Joe Postbridge. Mrs Newton was seated in the front with Bernie at the wheel.
Tilly bit her lip on seeing them emerge from the hall, hesitating. ‘Oh, I’m sorry … Mr Bailey offered me a lift up to the farm. But shall I walk back with you instead? There’s not enough room for two more.’
‘My apologies too, girls,’ Mr Bailey called out, laboriously winding down his window. ‘I can come back for you if you’d care to wait fifteen or twenty minutes. I already drove Margaret home to make sure she was safe. Besides, it’s quite a cold night for walking.’
‘Goodness, no, we’ll be fine,’ Grace insisted with a merry laugh. ‘You go ahead. I need a good long walk after that enormous supper anyway. So much food!’ She hesitated, glancing at Caroline. ‘Unless you’d prefer to wait?’
‘Tilly, can you hold this on your lap?’ Smiling, Caroline passed the empty containers to Tilly. ‘No, you’re right, we can walk up the hill together,’ she told her new friend, secretly thrilled to have the chance of a proper chat without half a dozen others listening in. ‘It won’t take long.’
Once the big car had pulled away, its engine throbbing deeply in the quiet evening, the two girls were left standing alone outside the parish hall, which was being locked up by the vicar and his church warden.
There were a few lads hanging about further along the lane to the village centre, but Caroline and Grace linked arms and strode out together, their breath steaming on the cold night air.
The ground was white with a touch of frost, and now the obscuring clouds had rolled back, the Cornish landscape lay eerily bright under the full moon.
‘I wonder what happened to that fella who got dragged out of the hall,’ Grace mused. ‘Who was he?’
Caroline explained briefly about Mrs Chellew and her estranged husband.
‘They should make it easier for folk like that to get a divorce,’ Grace said, shaking her head. ‘My aunt and uncle, for instance. I’ve never known two happily married people hate each other as much as those two.’
Caroline chuckled. ‘Or maybe they should make it harder for people to get married in the first place,’ she began, only half joking, but was interrupted by a shout from the lads ahead of them.
‘Hey, darky!’ one of them yelled, followed by snorts of laughter from the others.
‘What did you say?’ Caroline’s steps faltered.
She threw a horrified glance at Grace, expecting to see a similar shock on her face. But her new friend, apart from briefly compressing her lips, seemed almost not to have heard the boy. Her smile had vanished though, replaced by a mask of calm, her head held high.
Fury fizzed through Caroline’s veins on her behalf and she choked out, ‘How … How dare you? Apologise to my friend right this minute.’
The boy who’d spoken jeered at them, taller than the others and wearing a leather-patched flat cap. ‘Not a bloody chance,’ he spat back at her, adding another coarse slur that left Caroline shuddering.
‘Then I’ll march you home to your parents,’ she said crossly, ‘and tell them exactly what you just said to me and my friend.’
‘My dad wouldn’t give a stuff,’ the lad told Caroline, still grinning as he stepped clear of the shadows. He only looked about twelve or thirteen, but his manner was swaggering, like a much older boy. Clearly the ringleader, she decided.
‘What’s your name?’ Caroline peered at the gaggle of lads behind him, trying to see if she recognised any of them. One boy looked vaguely familiar. ‘And yours?’
‘No, what’s your name?’ the ringleader demanded, his tone belligerent. He hooked his fingers in his belt, staring at her. ‘Perhaps you should walk with us instead. We’ll make sure you get home safe,’ he added, and again the boys snorted and giggled.
Caroline was alarmed. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You heard me.’ He came menacingly towards them, the other lads at his back. ‘A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking about the village after dark. Especially not with her. You’ll get yourself a reputation.’
The lad reached for her, and Caroline stumbled backwards with a cry.
‘Careful … You all right?’ Grace helped her back to her feet. Then she turned to glare at the boys. ‘Get lost, do you hear me? Go home and stop making idiots of yourselves.’
The ringleader snarled something under his breath, eyes narrowed dangerously on Grace. But before he could do anything worse, someone came quickly along the lane behind them. A young male voice called out roughly, ‘Hullo, who’s there? What’s going on?’
With muttered oaths, the boys scattered, disappearing over walls and through gates into the dark, frosty fields beyond the lane.
Caroline turned to see the eldest Treedy boy appear behind them at a trot, his face lit up in the moonlight.
‘Oh, thank goodness,’ she muttered, sagging with relief. ‘It’s Jack, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Miss.’ Jack Treedy swiped off his cap and smoothed back his unruly hair. ‘I saw them village boys crowding you and heard a shout. Were they bothering you?’
‘They were rather,’ Caroline admitted, a little shakily. ‘Thank you for coming to our rescue.’
‘It weren’t nothing. And you, Miss? Are you all right?
’ Jack asked Grace, his admiring gaze fixed on her face.
‘I know that lad with the cap … Tommy Skellin. He’s a bad sort.
Aye, and his dad too. Got no respect for anyone, them two.
’ He pulled a disgusted face. ‘I can go after Tommy if you like, bring him back to say sorry for scaring you.’
‘Oh, I was never scared,’ Grace told him airily, though Caroline thought she detected a note of strain in her voice.
She threw one last scathing look across the field, where shadowy figures could still be seen moving as the village boys tried to make their way home without being caught.
‘Just a parcel of brats with big gobs, aren’t they? Not worth the shoe leather.’
With a shrug, Jack replaced his cap. ‘Let me walk you home, at least,’ he insisted. ‘In case them little beggars come back, eh?’
‘Thank you,’ Caroline said, with a quick glance at Grace, who looked away but did not protest. ‘We’d be very grateful.’
There seemed little point in refusing the lad’s company. Caroline would have preferred a cosy chat with Grace on the walk home, as it was rare at the farm to get anyone on their own for long. But the run-in with those horrid boys had rattled her, there was no denying it.
The three of them set off up the frosty lane towards Postbridge Farm, the moon glowing high above them.
With a murmured, ‘Brr,’ Grace threaded her arm through Caroline’s and drew her jacket closer for warmth. ‘Nippy, isn’t it?’
Caroline had tilted her face to the silvery moon, which she’d thought so beautiful and magical when they’d left the Harvest Supper.
But her earlier happiness had evaporated.
The moonlight seemed colder now, its beauty at odds with the nastiness Grace had just faced.
She glanced at her new friend and, with a feeling of unease, guessed it could not be the first time Grace had faced such comments.
It was all so unfair. Yet Grace had stood up so bravely to those boys, brushing off their vile insults and menacing looks as though they were unimportant.
She really was an amazing girl, Caroline decided.
‘Yes, but we’ll soon be home,’ she pointed out.
‘Mmm.’ Grace grinned, one eye on Jack as he strode manfully ahead, scouting out the fields on either side of the lane for any signs of the gang of boys. ‘Shame,’ she whispered in Caroline’s ear. ‘I was rather enjoying our night out.’
Caroline sucked in a breath, a flutter in her chest. ‘Me too,’ she whispered back.