Chapter Eleven
Grace was leaning against the door frame, watching Caroline with interest as she made up Mrs Newton’s bed with fresh sheets.
She’d pitched in herself earlier, sweeping the floor and even finding a stack of clean towels for their guests, but Caroline had insisted on doing the rest. Selina was her friend, after all, and it wasn’t fair to expect anyone else to skivvy for her.
The afternoon was already gloomy outside.
Thankfully, there had been no power cut that day, so she’d snapped on the electric light and continued working.
She probably could have got the work done more quickly on her own, but she appreciated Grace’s company.
They’d been chatting about the old days before the war, swapping anecdotes about their growing up and their friends when they were younger.
The conversation had turned perilous at one point, when discussing their ‘best’ friends, and Caroline had carefully steered it back to neutral territory, fearful she might give herself away.
She was rather taken by Grace, and it was clear that Grace liked her too.
But she wasn’t entirely sure whether Grace truly understood what she was feeling.
Caroline didn’t want to shock her by suggesting there could ever be anything more than friendship between them. It could ruin things.
When Tilly had come in from brushing down the shire horse she adored, Grace had hurried away to change out of her muddy Land Girl togs and pull on civvies instead; in this case, her favourite denim dungarees over a thick yellow sweater.
Now she was back, her curious gaze following Caroline around the room.
‘But what’s she like, this Selina? And why are you so excited that she’s coming to stay?’
‘I’m not excited, as such,’ Caroline told her warily, bending to tuck in a corner of the sheet.
She felt herself blush, though really there was no reason to be embarrassed.
She shook out a thick woollen blanket and threw it over the bed.
‘I’m just pleased. Anyway, I told you before … Selina and I were very close.’
‘How close?’
Caroline decided to pretend she hadn’t heard that. ‘Pass me the towels, would you? I’ll put them on the bed now it’s made.’ She hesitated, smoothing out the blanket. ‘Thanks for your help. But I think everything’s done now.’
‘Suit yourself.’ Grace handed her the towels. ‘Do Mr and Mrs Postbridge know that you and Selina were “very close”?’
Caroline, who had reached up to close the curtains, stiffened in shock. ‘They know that … that we were good friends,’ she replied carefully, emphasising the word friends. She turned to face her, adding breathlessly, ‘Why all these questions, anyway?’
Now it was Grace’s turn to look embarrassed. ‘I was just wondering, that’s all. Keep your hair on.’
‘Well, you won’t need to wonder much longer.
She should be arriving any minute. In fact, I’m going downstairs to wait for her.
’ Caroline collected up the dirty linen and went to the door.
But the other girl, blocking the doorway, didn’t move aside.
Taken aback, Caroline said falteringly, ‘I need to put these in the laundry basket. Excuse me.’
Grace seemed on the point of saying something, but then shrugged and let her pass.
As she stuffed the sheets into the laundry basket on the landing, Caroline straightened.
‘Hang on … Do you hear that?’ They both listened.
‘Is that a car coming up the hill?’ Excitement bubbled inside her, and she dashed past Grace and down the stairs.
She practically flew out of the back door and into the farmyard, just in time to see an unfamiliar car lurching across the cobbles, with Selina at the wheel. ‘Selina!’ she cried.
Her friend got out and picked her way carefully towards her, clad in heels that hadn’t been designed with farmyards in mind.
‘Caroline, darling …’ Her accent seemed posher than when she’d been a Land Girl, and it wasn’t just her voice that had changed.
Selina looked mature and sophisticated in a smart tweed twinset, with a pillbox hat perched on her head.
Her fair hair had been cut ruthlessly short since they’d seen each other in the summer, and Caroline could see how the short bob framed her face delightfully, with scarlet lipstick that made her look like a Hollywood film star.
Caroline sucked in her breath, staring. ‘Goodness, you look amazing. I’m scared to hug you in case I make a mess of your clothes.’
Selina laughed and held out her arms. ‘Come and hug me, don’t be silly. I’m all creased from driving anyway.’
As they embraced, the passenger door opened and Peter jumped out. Selina’s nephew also looked older than Caroline remembered, but boys sprouted so quickly at that age. ‘Hello, Miss Ponsby. Do you remember me?’
She hurried to hug the boy too. ‘Of course I remember you. How are your sisters, Peter? I hope they won’t be climbing that treehouse of yours in your absence. Though I suppose it’s too cold at the moment to be playing outside much.’
‘Rather! We’ve had snow drifts on the moors.’ The boy glanced about the yard critically, where a few pockets of frosty white had been left over from the recent cold weather. ‘Far more snow than here.’
‘Bodmin Moor is one of the higher places in the country, Peter,’ Selina reminded him, giving Caroline a wink.
‘High places always get more snow.’ But her gaze had drifted past the boy to the back door of the farmhouse, and her voice trailed away.
‘Goodness, I’m guessing that must be the famous Grace,’ she whispered, and Caroline looked round sharply.
Grace was indeed standing outside the back door of the farmhouse, her hands dug into the back pockets of her dungarees, her thick black hair pulled back ruthlessly.
Her eyes were wide and intent as she returned Selina’s curious stare.
But there was a strained air about her, almost rebellious, that left Caroline wondering what could have put her in such a fractious mood.
‘Yes,’ Caroline said softly, ‘do come and meet her.’ She hesitated. ‘First, though, we should bring in your cases.’
‘No need.’ Peter was looking affronted. ‘You go ahead. I can carry them on my own.’
‘Smashing, if you’re sure you can manage. Then I’ll take you straight upstairs and show you your rooms.’ She grinned at Selina. ‘I’ve given you Mrs Newton’s room. But I’m afraid Peter has been lumped with Ernest Fisher’s.’
‘Of course, I’d forgotten that Alice’s dad had left the farm. Gosh, though, that’s a tiny cupboard of a room.’
‘I don’t mind a small room,’ Peter said stoutly, dragging a heavy case noisily over the cobbles in a way that made Selina turn with a wince.
‘I’d be happy sleeping anywhere. Even in the barn.
’ He grinned, and Caroline got the impression he was putting on a brave face after his expulsion from the boarding school. ‘It would be an adventure.’
‘You don’t need to sleep in the barn. Mr Fisher’s room will be perfectly fine for you,’ his aunt told him firmly and removed the heavy case from his grasp. ‘I’ll carry that one before you bash it to bits. It’s mine anyway. You go back and bring your own bag in.’
But on reaching the farmhouse, Selina stopped dead, face to face with Grace, and put down the case.
The two young women stared at each other, roughly the same height, and then Selina stuck out her hand. ‘Hello, how do you do? I’m Selina Tiptree.’
‘Grace Morgan.’ They shook hands. ‘Nice to put a face to the name. I’ve heard so much about you since I got here. You’re quite a legend, in fact.’
Selina’s thin brows arched, and she shot an enquiring look at Caroline. ‘I can’t imagine why. Unless people have been telling tall tales about me.’
To Caroline’s relief, Peter returned at that moment with a case in each hand, clearly struggling.
‘Let me carry one of those, Peter,’ she said hurriedly.
‘Come along, I’ll show you to your rooms. It’s too dark now for a proper tour, but if you’re up early enough in the morning, I’ll show you around the farm before work.
There’s so much you’ve missed since the summer, Selina …
We had another litter of pigs – ten piglets this time – and Joe’s just built a new coop for the chickens.
You remember the roof was forever leaking on the old one?
’ she rattled on nervously, ushering her guests inside. ‘This way.’
Once she’d shown Selina into Mrs Newton’s room, and installed Peter in his own cramped bedroom, Caroline hurried downstairs to make tea and cut some cake to sustain them until dinner time.
Tilly had been out with the pigs, whom she loved visiting.
She returned just as Selina and Peter came downstairs.
‘Hello, stranger,’ Tilly said enthusiastically, hugging Selina.
‘And you must be Peter,’ she added, grinning at the boy beside her.
‘I had quite a different idea of what you’d look like.
When Caro said Selina was bringing her nephew, I pictured a little boy in short trousers.
But you’re all grown up. How old are you? ’
‘Fourteen.’ Peter looked pleased.
‘Would you like to see the pigs?’ Tilly asked him. ‘I’ve just taken off my boots, but I can put them back on.’ She looked him up and down, pulling a face. ‘Though you might get muddy. Do you mind?’
‘Not a bit,’ he insisted, and glanced at his aunt.
Selina nodded. ‘Go and enjoy the pigs. I remember when Pinky had a litter, and they were gorgeous. Little wriggling piglets everywhere. You’ll love them, and they’re not as smelly as everyone thinks. Just try not to tramp mud back into the kitchen or Violet will have fifty fits.’
He laughed and followed Tilly out into the yard. Moments later, as Caroline, Selina and Grace were sitting around the table with tea and cake, another car pulled into the yard.