Chapter Ten
Bernie came into the farmhouse kitchen, stamping snow off his boots. ‘That’s the last of your bags packed in the car, Sheila. And I’ve put a blanket on the back seat in case you need it.’
‘I’m not going to need a blanket,’ Sheila told him firmly.
Violet glared. ‘It’s bloomin’ freezing out there, Mum.
You can’t drive all the way to Penzance without a blanket.
What if snow starts falling again and you get stuck?
’ Violet handed her a hamper. ‘Talking of which, I’ve made paste sarnies for you both.
And a tidy slice of pork pie. It’s only what we’re having for lunch ourselves, so that’s your portion and a bit more besides for Bernie.
’ She drew a sharp breath, glancing at him. ‘Erm … I mean, Mr Bailey.’
He grinned, shaking his head. ‘Bernie’s my name and you’re welcome to use it, Mrs Postbridge.’
‘When you two have stopped playing silly beggars,’ Sheila said before Violet could respond, ‘perhaps we could get going? I told Lily we’d be there by lunchtime.’
Bernie’s grin widened. ‘You make it sound like we’re heading for the Outer Hebrides, not Penzance. Goodness, you even suggested taking the bus there the other day.’
‘And then I decided your car would be more comfortable,’ Sheila said loftily, and handed him the hamper. ‘You can put that on the back seat too, thank you very much.’
‘Your wish is my command,’ he said with a mock bow. ‘I’ll wait for you in the car, then.’
As soon as he’d gone, Sheila whirled to face Violet, suddenly panicking.
‘Thanks for the sarnies … I haven’t forgotten anything, have I?
I’ve got the Christmas presents, and that Victoria sponge you baked for Lily, and all my bags.
’ She looked at her daughter, stricken. ‘You’ll be all right without me, won’t you, love?
Because if you need help, you can always ask one of the Land Girls to pitch in. ’
Caroline, hurrying into the kitchen with a letter in her hand, and still in her dressing gown, said quickly, ‘Oh yes, just holler if you need a hand in the kitchen, Mrs P. Not that any of us are much good at cooking. But we can peel vegetables and lay the table, and we’re always happy to wash up.’
‘That’s kind of you, Caroline, but I can manage on my own, thank you.
’ Violet glanced at the letter she was clutching.
‘Is that from Selina? How’s she getting along in Bodmin?
It must have been quite a shock for her, landed with three children to look after.
Poor girl, I expect she’s rushed off her feet. ’
‘Funnily enough, that’s what I was coming to tell you,’ Caroline said awkwardly. ‘Selina’s had a bit of trouble with her nephew, Peter. He’s been expelled from school. The thing is, she’s written to ask if she can bring him with her when she comes to stay.’
‘Eh?’ Sheila was baffled. ‘Selina’s coming to stay?’
Violet shrugged, looking embarrassed now. ‘I said she could visit us while you’re in Penzance. There’ll be a spare room with you gone, after all.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Sheila rolled her eyes. ‘Turn my back for five minutes and someone’s in my bloomin’ bed. Should I leave me slippers behind too?’
‘Don’t be daft, Mum.’ Violet frowned at Caroline. ‘Hang on, if this lad has been expelled from school, why would I want someone like that staying in my house? What did he do to get thrown out?’
Caroline chewed on her lip, studying the letter again. ‘Well, it’s not clear … But Selina claims he didn’t do anything wrong. At least, he didn’t mean to.’
‘Hmm.’ Violet pursed her lips.
Grace came in from the yard at that moment, unwinding her scarf and shivering. ‘It’s bitter out there. I’m glad you haven’t gone yet, Mrs Newton. I meant to wish you a happy holiday in Penzance.’
‘Thank you, dear.’ Sheila glanced between the two girls, noticing how Caroline’s gaze had fixed on the other girl as soon as she walked in.
With a sympathetic pang, she recognised the wistful expression on her face.
Caroline had often looked at Selina the same way, especially in those difficult final weeks before her friend had left the farm for good.
Grace gave Caroline a cool look. ‘You not dressed yet? Best hurry up and get your togs on. You were meant to be outside twenty minutes ago. You and me are cutting kale for fodder, and Tilly’s helping Mr Postbridge check over that new litter of pigs.’
‘Sorry, I was reading my letter from Selina. I’ll come straightaway.’ Caroline turned to Violet, her eyes pleading. ‘May I write back, then, and say she can bring Peter?’
‘It would be uncharitable of me to say no, wouldn’t it? But he’s not to cause any trouble.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Postbridge, that’s awfully kind of you. I’ll write back this evening when I’ve finished work.’ Caroline beamed at Grace. ‘I’ll run and get dressed. Wait for me, won’t you?’
Grace gave a crooked smile, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her mustard breeches. ‘Do I have a choice?’ But she was laughing as she strolled back into the cold sunshine.
Sheila watched her go, and then shook her head at her daughter. ‘Oh dear, oh dear. I see Caroline’s developed another pash,’ she whispered.
Her daughter stared back at her blankly. ‘A what?’
‘A pash. You know … A passion. A little crush.’
‘Sorry?’ Violet glanced at the door, horrified. ‘Blimey. You don’t mean … her and Grace?’
‘Of course. Though Caroline will get over it soon enough. She got over Selina, didn’t she? It took her a while, but she’s smiling again now.’
‘Her and Selina too?’ Arms folded tight, Violet shook her head in abrupt denial. ‘Mum,’ she burst out, her voice high with outrage, ‘you can’t go around accusing people of things like that … I swear, I was never more shocked.’
Sheila pulled a face, wishing her daughter had not grown up to be such a prude. ‘It’s not such a big deal.’ She paused, adding with a wink, ‘Even I liked a girl once.’
‘Mum!’
‘It was just after I moved to Dagenham with your grandparents. Beatrice, that was her name. Oh, I had such a pash for her. I broke my heart that summer, thought I’d never get over it.
’ With a smile, Sheila recalled Bea, whose long golden hair had mesmerised her for months.
‘But it all came to nothing in the end.’
‘Hush, for goodness’ sake … Bernie will hear you.’ Violet’s eyes were like saucers now.
‘So what if he does?’ Sheila exhaled noisily.
‘Bernie don’t give a fig what I was thinking fifty-odd years ago.
All he wants to know is what I’m thinking now.
’ She shook her head, recalling her younger self with amusement.
‘I saw Bea in the street one day, you know, years after we’d left school.
She was walking along with another young woman, arm in arm, smiling like she’d won the pools.
And it didn’t bother me one jot,’ she added.
‘But I’d met your father by then, so that was just as well. ’
‘You never told me any of this before,’ Violet said accusingly.
‘There’s a great deal I haven’t told you, my girl. Besides, who cares? People love who they love, don’t they? It’s nobody’s business but their own.’
Violet cast an aggrieved look towards the staircase. Caroline was hurrying down the stairs. ‘That’s all well and good, but these girls are under our roof,’ she hissed. ‘In our charge. We should be keeping an eye on them.’
‘Now who’s being daft? Caroline’s about the same age as our Lily,’ Sheila pointed out, ‘and Lily’s a married woman with a kiddie of her own. You can’t go around telling grown women what to bloomin’ think and feel.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Violet grumbled.
Caroline dashed through the kitchen, oblivious to their gossiping, and waved merrily at Sheila before heading into the yard. ‘Have a great time in Penzance, Mrs Newton,’ she called over her shoulder.
Staring after the girl, Violet whispered, ‘But what about Grace? I don’t want that girl made uncomfortable by Caroline mooning after her all day.’
‘Best leave them to sort it out for themselves, love. Anyway, something tells me it would take a mite more than that to make Grace uncomfortable.’
Bernie beeped his horn outside.
Sheila started guiltily. ‘Gawd, I’d forgotten all about him. Well, goodbye, Vi,’ she said hurriedly and kissed her daughter on the cheek. ‘I’ll give your love to Lily and Tristan. And little Morris, bless his heart.’
‘I wish you weren’t going,’ Violet said unhappily. ‘Me and Joe …’ But she stopped, her lips tightening.
‘Yes? You and Joe?’ Sheila prompted her, but Violet shook her head, looking stubborn.
‘Nothing, Mum. Have a good time and come back safe.’
Sheila sighed. ‘I’ll do my best, love.’
She wished her daughter would open up about the problems in her marriage, since nobody could have missed the signs …
Arguments that rumbled on for days, cold looks, and a tension in the air that made mealtimes awkward, even for the Land Girls, who were usually too wrapped up in their own little world to notice anyone else.
But there was nothing she could do about it, not when she was going to be in Penzance for the next couple of weeks.
She whisked herself out to Bernie’s huge Daimler, clutching her handbag and hoping to goodness she hadn’t forgotten anything important. ‘Oh, blimey … Too late to change my mind now,’ she groaned, clambering into the passenger seat just as Bernie started the engine.
‘Penzance, here we come,’ Bernie said with a grin.
Sheila cranked down the window to wave frantically at poor Violet, who’d come out into the yard to see her off and was wafting a white hanky about like she was planning to surrender.
It was a sunny morning in Porthcurno, despite the chilly, whitened hedgerows and paths, but there were dull cloudbanks ahead, suggestive of heavier snow roughly in the direction they would be taking.
Bernie had assured her that if the daily bus was getting through without any problems, so could his car. But the best-laid plans, and all that.