Chapter Seventeen #2
Her mother nodded. ‘He came back from Germany a few months ago. His older brother Jimmy was killed in ’43, you know.’
‘Yes, you wrote to tell me.’
‘So terribly sad. His mother was beside herself when Albert was sent out to Germany, scared stiff they might lose him too. Even after the war was over too, for there’s still a few Jerries out there willing to take a potshot at our boys.
They’ve got to be ever so careful on patrol.
Pat was thrilled when he came home at last. And he’s such a good son, helping out around the house and working on the allotment.
Pat’s not been well lately, and Kenneth’s got a dodgy knee, so neither of them can do much digging these days …
’ She nudged her daughter. ‘I could ask Albert over to dinner tomorrow, if you’d like? ’
Caroline stared at her. ‘Whatever for?’
‘Why, so you two can have a nice chat, of course,’ her mother said vaguely, bending to smooth out an imaginary wrinkle in her bedcovers, ‘and catch up with what you’ve been up to during the war.
After all, you young people won’t want to spend all your time with your parents now you’re home.
’ She hesitated. ‘Maybe Albert could take you to the pictures one evening? I could suggest it to his mum.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Caroline exclaimed, her cheeks flooding with warmth.
‘Goodness, Mum! I didn’t come home to start dating the boy next door.
I came home to see Gran.’ Her eyes narrowed on her mother’s guilty face.
‘I hope you didn’t ask me back here just to start matchmaking.
Because if so …’ She stopped, forcing herself to swallow the angry words on the tip of her tongue.
She’d barely been home five minutes. It would be awful to start arguing with her parents straight after walking through the front door.
‘Stuff and nonsense, of course we didn’t. It was just a passing thought. I’ll leave you to unpack.’ Her mother dragged the curtains shut and hurried out. ‘We’re glad to have you home, love.’
Now she was back in her parents’ home, it seemed Caroline was to be given an endless string of jobs that needed doing before she could possibly return to Cornwall.
After a few days spent sitting with her grandmother, reading to her from magazines, playing cards or chatting about her days as a Land Girl, her mother began to drag out projects to occupy Caroline’s time.
‘These tatty old curtains need restitching,’ she told her daughter, uncovering the sewing machine for her, ‘and maybe you could help your dad repaint the kitchen this weekend?’ Once those tasks were done, she encouraged Caroline to turn the frozen soil in the allotment.
‘There’s a sack of early seed potatoes that are nicely chitted and ready to be planted up,’ her mother said, handing her a spade.
‘You’ve been working on a farm for years.
You must know all about growing vegetables. ’
Out in the allotment, she soon bumped into Albert. ‘Hullo, Caroline,’ he said with a grin, resting on his garden fork. ‘The prodigal daughter returns!’
She laughed, her breath steaming on the chilly air. ‘How are you, Albert?’
‘Bert, please.’ He grimaced. ‘Albert makes me sound like I’m a hundred years old. And I’m fine. Made it through the war unscathed, as you see. Now I’m back and wondering what to do next.’
‘Strange, isn’t it? You get used to being on your own, making your own decisions, and then you come home to live with your parents and … Well, get bossed around again.’ They smiled at each other in quick understanding. ‘By the way, I was sorry to hear about your brother Jimmy.’
His face fell. ‘Thank you.’
‘He was so sporty … I remember him winning all the athletics cups at school.’ There was an awkward silence. ‘And your mum’s not been well recently, is that right?’
‘She’s had a bad chest, yes. But the doctor thinks she’ll be better come the spring.’ He looked her up and down with interest. ‘You’ve sprouted at least a foot since I last saw you. Been in Cornwall, your dad told us. Working as a Land Girl? Sounds like hard work.’
‘Sometimes, yes.’
Happier to chat than struggle to turn the icy soil, Caroline perched on an upturned bucket and told him about Postbridge Farm and some of their near misses from bombing raids during the war.
He seemed fascinated by the proximity of Eastern House, with its secret communications tunnels dug into the cliff, and laughed out loud on hearing about her antics with the other Land Girls.
A few nights later, Albert turned up on the doorstep in a clean new shirt and jacket and ate dinner with the family.
Caroline glared at her mother on seeing him but politely said nothing.
It wasn’t his fault, after all. Still, she resented such an unsubtle attempt at matchmaking, especially after she’d asked her mother not to interfere.
Gran, recovering nicely from what she’d now decided was ‘a touch of bronchitis’, came down to sit with them, while Caroline’s father beamed approvingly at Albert, and even cracked open a prized bottle of French red wine he’d been keeping in a cupboard since before the war, saying, ‘Since this is a celebration …’
‘Of what?’ Caroline had a sinking feeling, as she watched him uncork the bottle.
‘Why, of our young people coming home safely after that awful war, of course,’ Gran supplied for him, and pushed forward her glass. ‘Just a little for me, please, Stan.’
Caroline had exchanged glances with Bert, who’d grinned but said nothing.
The next day, he invited her out to the picture house, and although she suspected her mother of having suggested the outing behind her back, Caroline decided to say yes.
She had always enjoyed her weekly outings to the cinema in Penzance with the other Land Girls, and thought it might take her out of herself. She had been in the doldrums lately …
The truth was, she was missing Grace. She knew she ought not to have feelings for another girl.
Not after all the trouble it had caused when she’d stupidly blurted out to Selina that she ‘loved’ her, never thinking of the possible consequences, only following her heart.
That disastrous admission had almost wrecked her friendship with Selina and had put her in peril of being gossiped about by the others at Postbridge Farm.
Thankfully, though, Selina had kept the whole thing quiet.
As hard as it was to be away from Grace, their enforced separation might be a good thing if it prevented her from making a fool of herself again, Caroline decided. After Christmas, she would return to the farm with smiling indifference on her face, determined to keep her distance …
With that in mind, she’d written to Mr and Mrs Postbridge to say she wouldn’t be returning until the end of the year, and hoped they wouldn’t mind, given that December was often a quiet period at the farm.
Violet had written a terse note back to say she would be missed, but if her grandmother was still unwell, they would allow it.
Unfortunately, her parents seemed to believe she was back for good.
When Bert turned up one day to take her to a matinee at the cinema, their first visit to the pictures having been a success, her mother caught them on their way out.
‘Come the spring,’ she said cheerfully, ‘you two should go for a picnic in the park. The pavilion was hit during the Blitz, but they’re rebuilding it.
They’ve even got plans to turn that old duck pond into a proper lake. ’
Caroline was taken aback but kept quiet. There was no point upsetting her mother by reminding her that she wouldn’t be there in the spring.
But when they passed the local park on their way back from the pictures, Bert stopped to point out the snow-covered rubble where the old pavilion had been hit. ‘That wasn’t a bad idea of your mum’s, you know. I haven’t been on a picnic in years. Not since before the war.’
‘I won’t be here in the spring, I’m afraid,’ Caroline admitted. ‘I’ll be going back to Cornwall after Christmas.’
‘What?’ He looked shocked.
‘I’m still a Land Girl,’ she pointed out. ‘I haven’t turned in my uniform. Besides, the farmer’s been talking about hiring new workers – demobbed soldiers like you – and I don’t want to risk losing my job by not being there.’
‘But you don’t need to be a Land Girl anymore,’ he stammered. ‘You could get work here in a shop.’
‘In a shop?’ Caroline laughed. ‘I like the fresh country air down in Cornwall, and being near the sea … I don’t want to lose that.’
‘But I don’t understand.’ His brows tugged together. ‘I thought you liked me.’
‘I do.’
Bert stared at her. ‘Like this, though?’ He pulled her close and kissed her.
She stood frozen in shock, then struggled to get free.
Bert refused to let her go at first, his kiss only growing fiercer, his hands pulling her tighter.
She squealed and kicked him in the shin.
He swore and released her. ‘Ow, what the hell did you do that for?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Caroline exclaimed, breathless and flushed, and feeling both furious and apprehensive. It was dark and the street was deserted. Although her time on the farm had given her muscles, Bert was still bigger and stronger than her. ‘Maybe because you were kissing me against my will?’
‘It was only a bloody kiss … I thought you wouldn’t mind,’ he grumbled, then took a step back, looking her up and down with a sneer. ‘My mother always said there was something off about you. Maybe she was right.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Oh, forget it.’ Bert stamped away, leaving her to walk home alone.
Back at the house, rather tearful, Caroline told her parents what had happened, but they merely shrugged.
‘Why shouldn’t the lad give you a kiss?’ her father asked. ‘I’m only surprised he hasn’t tried before.’
Her mother peered at her. ‘Do you not like Albert?’ When Caroline said nothing, she asked tentatively, ‘Or is it that you aren’t ready for a boyfriend yet?’
‘Deirdre, for goodness’ sake,’ her father exclaimed, ‘the girl’s twenty-six. If she’s not ready now, she never will be.’
‘Then I never will be,’ Caroline agreed, and saw the shock in their faces. Blushing at what she’d revealed, she hurried upstairs before they could ask any more unwelcome questions.
The next day, she wrote to tell the Postbridges she’d be coming home earlier than planned, probably on Christmas Eve itself.
She felt guilty to be leaving her family at this special time of year, yet also thankful and relieved to be contemplating a peaceful Christmas at the farm, where nobody would rag at her and make her downright miserable.
After walking out to post her letter, she sat through a painful dinner.
Her mother was silent and withdrawn, her dad frowning at her in disappointment, while her gran cheerily tried to persuade her to ‘give Albert a second chance’, as though his inexpert kisses had been the only stumbling block.
By bedtime, she felt dejected and desperate to get back to the farm.
There, at least, she was accepted as part of the ‘family’ and not judged for the way she dressed and behaved, or chided for not having landed a boyfriend.
In Cornwall, she was just Caro, one of the Land Girls. No questions asked.
Early on the morning of Christmas Eve, she packed her case and left home for the second time in her life, hugging her gran.
‘I’m sorry, Gran,’ she whispered.
‘You’ll be back in no time, love. They won’t want you Land Girls working on farms much longer,’ the old lady said confidently, ‘not now our boys are starting to come home.’
‘Please don’t go,’ her mother begged her in tears at the station. ‘You have to stay for Christmas lunch at least. Stanley, tell her.’
But her dad said nothing, just looked at her miserably.
Caroline hugged her parents. ‘I love you both,’ she told them, choking with tears herself, ‘but I must go back to the farm. Have a wonderful Christmas! Think of me …’ She trailed off, and hurried away through whirling snow to board her train, numb with cold and grief.
At Penzance Station, Caroline climbed wearily out of the carriage, dragging her heavy case after her, and found herself looking into Grace’s smiling face.
‘What on earth …?’
‘Mrs Postbridge got your letter, so I decided to come and meet you at the station,’ Grace explained, laughing at her expression. ‘Only, I’ve been waiting for hours, as I wasn’t sure which train.’
‘Oh, Grace …’ Overjoyed, Caroline gave her a tight hug, her voice thick with emotion. ‘Thank you, thank you.’
‘There’s only one problem.’ Grace gave her a lopsided smile. ‘They’ve cancelled the bus back to Porthcurno, haven’t they? So it looks like we’ll be stuck in Penzance for Christmas.’ She bit her lip, her eyes twinkling. ‘Do you think Violet’s daughter might put us up for a day or two?’