The War Girls

And suddenly there he was, walking towards her, his bag slung over his shoulder as usual. He seemed to be looking up at something in the sky, but then his gaze turned towards her and he saw her. Dropping his bag, he was beside her in an instant, throwing his arms around her, almost lifting her off her feet.

‘Hey,’ he said slowly, softly, ‘how have you managed this? You haven’t killed her, have you?’

Abigail laughed shakily. ‘No – I’ve managed to escape but I haven’t got long because I’ve got to get back to Coopers before my aunt returns from the market. I just had to see you, Luke. The last couple of months have seemed endless.’

‘For me, too,’ Luke murmured. ‘I’ve walked down to Coopers twice hoping to catch you alone but your aunt was there right in the front and I didn’t want to get you into trouble.’ With his arm now tightly around Abigail’s waist as they walked along, he looked down at her, the look in his eyes almost making her melt. ‘Luckily, there’s no one at home this afternoon,’ he said, ‘but my sandwiches will have been left for me – so we can share them in private – if you’ve got long enough.’

‘I’ve got long enough,’ Abigail said.

She had never been inside the house before, and Abigail felt as if she was entering another world. As they went through the richly carpeted hall into the kitchen, she was immediately aware of the rows of bright copper pans hanging above the Aga cooker, of rows and rows of expensive crockery on the tall dresser, of the huge jug of wild flowers placed on one wide window sill, everything shining with fragrant cleanliness. On the opposite side of the room were three full-length windows looking out onto a rolling lawn that seemed to go on for ever.

‘What a beautiful garden, Luke,’ Abigail said, and he nodded.

‘Yes, there’s a lot of it, which keeps the gardener busy,’ he said. ‘And just out of sight there’s a summer house. Not that I’ve sat in it much,’ he added, ‘but my mother seems to like it.’

Abigail turned away, glancing at the scrubbed wooden table on which there was a tray covered with a white cloth, together with a crystal water jug and matching tumbler.

It seemed rude to go on staring, but Abigail couldn’t help it – while thinking what a good job it was that Luke had never been to Coopers, and never would. What ever would he make of their primitive abode, their earthy surroundings?

He pulled out two chairs for them to sit side by side. Then he removed the white cloth to reveal a plate of neatly cut sandwiches which had leaves of moist watercress tucked between the layers, a china dish of chocolate biscuits and a bowl of fruit – apples, bananas and grapes. He grinned down at her.

‘Our lunch,’ he said. ‘I think the sandwiches are ham, so get started while I fetch another tumbler and fill the jug.’ He glanced back at her as he went over to the sink. ‘The housekeeper has taken the day off to visit a cousin who’s not very well,’ he said, ‘but she’ll be back in time to make dinner for when my parents return from London.’

If she had been invited to eat at Buckingham Palace, Abigail couldn’t have felt more honoured to be having her lunch here with Luke. Everything was so special. He was so special.

For the next ten minutes between mouthfuls, they exchanged news of what they’d been doing – though Abigail didn’t have that much to reveal. But Luke kept making her laugh about things that had gone on at school: that there’d been a real fight in the playground, that the usual culprits regularly got the cane for talking in class and that Miss Jones who taught the Infants was leaving next year to get married.

But there was something more important that Abigail wanted to know.

‘And … who is sitting next to you in class now, Luke?’ she asked, and he shrugged.

‘Derek – you remember Derek – but I hardly know him because he doesn’t say anything. Not anything interesting or funny, anyway,’ Luke replied. ‘It’s not the same at school without you, Abigail … I mean, it’s just work and routine now, slightly boring to be honest.’

After a moment, Abigail said, ‘I wish I was coming back there with you, now, this afternoon, Luke,’ and he took her hand in his and looked down at her.

‘You don’t know how much I hate you not being there,’ he said quietly. ‘But at least you’ve found a way to get to the village incognito! That’s a start, isn’t it? When I saw you standing there as I turned the corner, I thought I was dreaming!’ He bent slightly to brush his lips across her cheek. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to escape again? Soon?’

‘I’ll try,’ Abigail murmured, loving the feel of his face against hers, ‘but it can only be on a Thursday when my aunt is here at the market. And I’ll always have to get back before she does.’

‘True love never did run smooth,’ Luke quoted softly. Then he moved their lunch things right away and pulled her in close to him. Then he kissed her and she kissed him back, properly …

Presently, like Cinderella hearing the midnight chime, Abigail heard the clock on the kitchen wall strike one, and she moved away, standing up quickly.

‘I’ll have to go,’ she said. ‘It’ll take me half an hour to get back and I’ve got all those baskets to fill.’

He stood as well, reluctant to let her go. ‘But – you will come here again, soon, won’t you?’ he said.

‘I will do my very best, I promise,’ Abigail said.

Chapter 3

Almost as if she knew something was going on, for the next few weeks Edna announced that she would be returning early from the market on Thursdays. ‘This is always a busy time,’ she’d said. ‘As you know very well, Abigail, all the ground has to be cleared and dug and made ready for spring planting, so I’ll cut it short in the village while there’s still enough light for us to work by.’

So apart from two brief visits to the village just before Christmas, it wasn’t until the following year that Abigail began a routine of seeing Luke for their treasured time together, when Edna stayed all afternoon at the market.

‘I know it’s difficult for you, but I wish you didn’t always have to go back so soon,’ Luke said regretfully. ‘I mean, I could always find some excuse about being late for the afternoon session at school … and I’d love a bit longer for us to be together so that we could, you know, just talk about everything, like we used to.’

He was so right, Abigail had thought. Not only that, but he always held her in the way that only Luke Jordan knew how. Caressing her possessively as if to hold the rest of the world at bay and to tell everyone that she was his, and he was hers. And that nothing would ever change it.

It was one day in early April the following year that Edna imparted the news of the moment – Lillian, the vicar’s sister, was gravely ill.

‘Dear me,’ Edna said as she and Abigail trudged down to the back field with their hoes and buckets. ‘I do hope she recovers soon because she and the vicar have lived together all their lives and it would be so hard for him to do everything without her help and support.’

Abigail nodded. She remembered the vicar’s sister who occasionally came to the school with him when he took morning prayers every Monday. ‘I always thought she looked a very kind lady,’ Abigail said.

‘Hmm,’ Edna said, ‘I’m afraid that’s a false hope – from what I’ve heard. Anyway,’ Edna went on as she started hoeing her row, ‘I shall go to the funeral, of course – which is sure to be a big affair, what with the two of them being so well known in the area.’

‘But she’s not gone yet, Aunt,’ Abigail said. ‘Her brother’s prayers might save her.’

‘Praying does not always do as you want it to,’ Edna retorted. ‘Or, rather, the word “No” is often the answer. Anyway, nothing we can do about it,’ she went on as she continued with what she was doing. ‘But at least I’ve got my black outfit ready to wear – the stuff I had to buy for your father’s funeral, if you remember.’

But of course Abigail remembered Dada’s funeral, and seeing Edna in her long black skirt and top, with a tiny little skull cap on her head … Goodness knows where she’d managed to find that, Abigail had thought at the time.

Two Thursdays later, Abigail repeated the heart-tightening operation of getting to and from the village unseen, but this time she had news for Luke.

Next Friday, the 1st of May at 4.30 p.m., Lillian’s funeral was to take place and there would be a large gathering of faithful parishioners attending, invited to take tea and cake in the church hall afterwards. Edna was going to be there and did not expect to return to Coopers until perhaps seven o’clock.

‘No one goes to a funeral by pony and trap!’ she’d said, when Abigail had posed the question.

So on that Thursday when Abigail saw Luke coming towards her, she almost threw herself into his arms with the news. ‘I can’t believe it, Luke,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I have never known my aunt to be away from Coopers for that length of time! We shall have at least two hours … two whole hours … just to be together.’

Luke put his arm around Abigail’s waist. ‘And guess what?’ he said. ‘Not only is the housekeeper also going to the funeral, but my parents are in London that evening and won’t be home until next morning!’ He held her to him tightly. ‘We shall have Mulberry Court to ourselves without interruption!’

When that special Friday in 1936 dawned, the weather was surprisingly warm for so early in May. And although the passing of the vicar’s sister had little to do with them, Edna went about her usual duties with a very solemn look on her face, barely saying a word to Abigail but every now and then repeating, ‘Dear, dear. God rest her soul.’

And despite feeling genuinely sorry about Lilian’s death, Abigail could barely stop smiling. In just a few hours, she and Luke were going to be together. And this time with no urgent rush for her to get home – though she’d have to make sure she reached Coopers well before her aunt returned from the funeral tea.

Just after three o’clock, Edna came down the stairs in her mourning attire, and Abigail glanced up in surprise. Her aunt looked quite respectable out of her working clothes. She also seemed to have taken some trouble doing her hair, and the little skull cap perched on top looked quite nice … nicer than Abigail remembered it the last time it had been worn.

‘You look very smart, Aunt,’ Abigail said, and Edna pursed her lips.

‘How I look is hardly the point of today,’ she said, but Abigail knew the remark had pleased her aunt. ‘One thing I am grateful for is that it’s not raining,’ Edna went on, ‘because it’s unpleasant walking to and from the village when it’s wet.’

Abigail would love to have retorted – ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ But she resisted the temptation. Her aunt was in a good mood, and obviously looking forward to her unusual afternoon out.

Keeping an anxious eye on the little clock on the shelf, Abigail saw that it was quarter to four. Enough time had passed since her aunt had left, and Abigail knew she could get to the village in twenty minutes. By that time all the mourners would be safely in church and out of the way. The coast would be clear.

Wearing the only pretty, flowery cotton skirt she possessed, and the pale blue top that went with it, plus her shawl loosely around her shoulders as usual, Abigail left Coopers and walked to the village. When she arrived it was eerily quiet and practically deserted. The curtains of any dwelling she passed were drawn tightly shut, the sultry warmth of the afternoon seeming to add to the sombre atmosphere.

But Abigail wasn’t sombre – she was almost deliriously happy – and when she saw Luke waiting for her by the gate of Mulberry Court, his face wreathed in smiles, she automatically broke into a run to meet him. He ran forward, drawing her into his arms and closing his lips over hers.

‘You look lovely,’ he murmured.

She smiled up at him. Well, she had taken trouble to do her hair which was floating loose around her shoulders.

Then, with their arms around each other’s waists, they walked slowly up the drive and into the house.

Luke nodded towards a plate of fancy cakes on the kitchen table. ‘The housekeeper didn’t want me to starve before she got back,’ he said, ‘and as you can see, there are plenty for the two of us.’ He pulled out the two chairs. ‘Shall I make us a pot of tea – or would you prefer something cold? There’s a bottle of pop waiting to be opened.’

Abigail took the chair offered and gazed up at him. He was wearing light, casual trousers and an open-necked, dark brown shirt, and his hair – with its usual wayward lock falling carelessly across his forehead – glinted and shone like polished ebony.

‘I’d like a glass of pop, please, Luke,’ she said.

He grinned. ‘Yeah. Me too.’

Abigail half-smiled as she watched him. When they were together on those precious Thursdays, they always had so much to say in such a short time that their words would often tumble over each other, but now, today, they weren’t saying much at all. Just revelling in being together, with no anxiety that she would be found out.

Abigail broke the silence. ‘My aunt made a real effort to look the part for the funeral … she was a perfect vision dressed in black!’

‘Good for her,’ Luke said. ‘Keeping up appearances, then.’

‘It was quite something for her to get scrubbed up like that,’ Abigail admitted, ‘so perhaps she harbours a secret wish to be someone else, after all.’ Abigail paused. ‘We all have secret wishes, don’t we, Luke?’

There was silence for a few moments, then he said, ‘By the way, all the formal papers came yesterday about my college course – and, unusually, it’s not going to start until November this year, which is rather late.’ He glanced across. ‘But until then at least I’ll be home here for us to see each other – if and when we get the chance,’ he added.

Abigail didn’t say anything for a moment. The thought of Luke – her Luke – moving right away was something she didn’t want to think about. No more occasional Thursdays to look forward to. No more anything to look forward to. ‘Will you be in London?’ she asked, and he nodded.

‘I think the course starts there, but they apparently send students all over the place to other colleges from time to time during the whole procedure,’ he said. ‘A sort of movable feast, by the sound of it, which I hope I’m going to enjoy but I probably won’t.’ He glanced down and saw that her eyes had filled with tears.

‘Come on,’ he said lightly. ‘Don’t be sad, because that last cake is yours.’ But Abigail shook her head.

‘No thanks – you have it, Luke,’ she said, cross with herself at feeling so terrible that he would be going away at the end of the year. After all, she’d always known that he would be furthering his education far, far away from this inauspicious village. But to be reminded that the time was fast approaching was painful. She stood up suddenly, picking up the empty plate and their glasses.

‘It’s such a perfect afternoon, Luke,’ she said, trying to sound upbeat. ‘I would love to look around the garden.’ She glanced out of the window at the vast rolling lawn. ‘We don’t go in for much decorative planting at Coopers. There is never any room for things which do not produce food to sell,’ she added ruefully.

They cleared up the tea things, then, hand in hand, they left the kitchen and began wandering along the grassy paths of the garden which seemed to go in every direction, Abigail stopping every now and then to inspect something which particularly took her fancy.

Out of sight of the house, they took a left turn and Luke said, ‘Behold – the rose walk! My mother’s particular interest.’

Abigail stared. It was like something out of a fairy tale. Numerous arches stood at regular intervals down the long path, all festooned with trailing foliage. Most of the flowers were still in tight bud but one or two were already opening their fragrant faces to the sunshine.

‘How absolutely beautiful,’ Abigail said, and Luke looked down.

‘I was thinking the same thing,’ he said, gazing at her.

Abigail blushed, and still holding hands they wandered past the rose trail and almost immediately came to the summer house Luke had mentioned the other day. Without saying another word, Luke reached into his pocket for his bunch of keys. Then he moved forward and opened the door.

‘Come on, it’s been all aired and freshened up for the summer,’ he said, ‘so we might as well have a sit down for a few minutes and admire the view from inside.’

Going in first, Luke immediately went over to the canvas garden chairs which were stacked neatly against one wall. Setting two of them up, he pushed one towards Abigail before sitting down on the one next to her.

Putting her head back and half-closing her eyes, Abigail said, ‘I may fall asleep in a minute – so I hope you won’t mind.’

‘You’re hardly likely to fall asleep sitting up like that,’ Luke said. ‘Oh, I know.’ Then he got up and went over to the other side of the room, bringing back a striped sun lounger which he opened up in front of her. ‘Here, try this for size,’ he said. ‘It’s actually quite comfortable.’

Abigail did as he suggested, then lay back outstretched, and sighed contentedly as she felt the gentle breeze from the open door begin to fan her face. ‘This is heavenly,’ she murmured, turning to look at him, ‘but I feel really mean having the only bed.’

Without any hesitation he got up. ‘Move over a bit, then,’ he said.

Then he stretched out beside her, and soon they were entwined in each other’s arms.

‘This seems the perfect moment for me to make something absolutely clear to you, Abigail Wilson,’ Luke said softly. ‘Because I promise you now, that when I am earning enough money to support you, I shall arrive at Coopers and snatch you away from your aunt for ever.’

Abigail turned to gaze into his eyes. If only that could be true. But the chances of Luke Jordan being able to escape the charms of other women were slight because he was simply irresistible. And he was going to be away, he’d said, for three or four years. What hope did she have when she wouldn’t even be there to compete with the attractive women he was bound to spend time with?

He raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at her. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ he said, and she smiled up at him, her eyes moist.

‘I believe you, Luke,’ she said, though she was really thinking, I want to believe you, Luke.

Then his lips closed over hers, more urgently this time, and Abigail responded readily as his hands began to trace her soft curves beneath her clothes. And then, without any sense of shame, she helped him undress her. It sent her pulse racing and her heart soaring.

‘I love you, Abigail,’ he whispered, ‘and I will never love anyone else, ever. I give you my word.’

Cruelly, fate decreed that for the rest of that month Abigail could only get to the village once to see Luke. But it had been worth it because, without either of them putting it into words, their relationship had changed. Now, the sense that they really belonged to each other filled them with a warmth which was different from anything they’d felt before.

But it wasn’t until the middle of July that Abigail realised the plight she was in.

Getting out of bed, she drew back the curtains and stared out at the familiar scene. The scene that never changed. But something else had changed. Something had changed in her.

Standing back, she placed her hands lightly over her tummy, feeling for something, anything. How did you feel the tiny beginnings of a baby? Having seen the goats giving birth to their kids many times, and from everything she’d read in her books, Abigail had a good idea about reproduction, and she knew that it took nine months for a human baby to emerge into the world. But how did you look – and what did you feel – during those months?

Well, how was she to know? All she did know was that she’d missed last month and was late for this one – the first time ever. And the realisation filled Abigail with absolute terror. Because when her aunt was told, Abigail would be thrown out of Coopers and she’d have nowhere to live and nowhere to go.

And that was why she would have to tell Luke, soon. She would go tomorrow, Thursday, and break the news. He would find ways to look after her and their baby because he would never leave her to face this by herself, she knew he wouldn’t.

‘Can I help you?’ A man’s gruff voice from behind the hedge at Mulberry Court made Abigail look up, startled.

‘Oh no – thank you,’ she replied quickly. ‘I’m just waiting for someone – waiting for Luke Jordan. He should be home in a minute.’

Coming into full view, the man stared at her over the gate. ‘Well, you’re going to be disappointed, luvver,’ he said. ‘The Jordans don’t live here anymore.’

Abigail’s mouth dropped in surprise. ‘What … what do you mean?’ she said. ‘Where are they living now?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m only the gardener keeping the place tidy until the owners take up residence,’ he said, ‘but what I was told was that the Jordans had gone back to London and then someone said the lady and the young lad have gone to France for a few months – where they’ve got a place in the south, so I believe.’ The man made a face. ‘A’wight for some, innit – but the lady hadn’t been too well, so I heard.’

Feeling as if the ground beneath her was going to melt away and suck her down and down, Abigail just stood for a moment trying to take in this terrible news.

‘Well, thank you,’ she said faintly, turning to go.

As she retraced her steps along the road and past the school, keeping well away from the market, Abigail tried desperately to let the news she’d just been given sink in. Luke had obviously left school a couple of weeks before the end of term to accompany his mother – so now he was further away from Abigail than he’d ever been. He was never to know that they were to have a baby … and they would never see each other again.

Stopping for a moment to regain her breath, Abigail paused in her thoughts. Her first impulse, her first instinct, had been to tell Luke – but now she wasn’t so sure. Would he mind that she was pregnant? Anyway, how could he be a proper father to their baby when he was away at college – and what on earth would his parents think when they found out? They would surely be angry at the situation and the last thing Abigail wanted was to do anything to harm Luke – to harm his chances of graduating and fulfilling the career which had been decided for him.

Abigail put her hand to her mouth, tormented by sudden guilt. Why hadn’t she stopped to think what this news would undoubtedly mean to Luke? She knew that he loved her – he’d said so over and over again – but he was in no position to provide a home for her … not yet! It wasn’t the right time for them. It was too soon!

Abigail straightened her shoulders defiantly, even though her heart was at breaking point. She was going to have this baby – she was going to love this baby – and conquer whatever troubles lay ahead.

And telling her aunt was going to be the first hurdle.

That thought made Abigail pause, holding her sides for a second. Well, hadn’t Luke told her that she was bright and clever and funny and that if she really wanted something, it was up to her? That if she was determined enough, she could change her life to however she wanted it to be?

Well, one day, Abigail would prove his words.

But she would never see the long letter he had addressed to her because it had slipped from the postal tray on the hall table and had become trapped, right out of sight, under a corner of the sturdy cabinet alongside.

Chapter 4

June 1939

‘Come on, Emily, it’s time to wake up,’ Abigail said softly. ‘The chickens want their breakfast, and there will be lots of eggs for you to collect.’

Emily sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and Abigail hugged her tightly, the endearing scent of her little girl’s warm body filling her with the usual enchantment.