The place was called Home Farm and after Iris had left, Mabel Foulkes, the farmer’s wife – an overweight, affable woman – took the three girls upstairs to the room which they were to share.
It was long, the bare wooden floorboards creaking under their feet. It felt a bit stuffy despite the two windows wide open at each end. There were three single beds more or less next to each other, each with two pillows, and covered with a patchwork quilt. A couple of cupboards stood against the wall, and on a solid-looking steel-legged table was a huge jug standing in a bowl, with a large enamel bucket on the floor beneath. On the wall was a faded mirror.
‘We’ll bring hot water up for you every morning and at night,’ Mabel said, ‘and the lavatory’s outside next to the scullery. There’s also another one down the garden, right at the end past the cabbages. You can’t miss it.’
There was a moment’s pause.
‘There’s no bathroom, Mrs. Foulkes…?’ Eve said faintly.
‘Oh no, my luvver! Well, not as such…but don’t you worry, there’s a guzunder under your beds if you need to go in the night, and for bathin’ we all use the hip baths in the kitchen. They’re OK – even if it does mean knees up to chins!’ She mopped her brow. ‘But mostly the men just stand in the sink by the pump in the yard! Especially when it’s hot! But don’t worry – you won’t be asked to do that! Just say when you wanna bath and the kitchen’ll be all yours! It’ll be helpful if you could make it later in the day,’ she added, ‘when all the work’s finished. OK?’ Her hands on her hips, she smiled at them kindly. ‘Breakfast for you will be 5.30, down in the kitchen, lunch in the fields if you’re workin’ there – I’ll bring out flasks of tea. Or if there’s a lull, you can have it in the kitchen, a’course. And supper’s usually about 7.30.’
She turned to go, then looked back at the girls. ‘Sorry my husband wasn’t here when you arrived – ’ ’ee’s up yonder, hay-makin’ with our son – Roger. They’ll be down presently. Now, you get unpacked and I’ll put the kettle on for a nice cup a’ tea. I expect you could do with one.’
That was putting it mildly. They’d had very little refreshment on the journey, stopping only a couple of times for a break and cold drinks.
For a few moments there was complete silence, then Fay went across and opened the doors of the cupboards. On the shelves were a couple of piles of towels.
‘Hm. Well, good thing I didn’t bother to pack me evenin’ dresses,’ she said lightly. ‘But I s’pose there’s enough space here for what we want.’ Without taking off her sandals, she flung herself down on the bed nearest the door and grimaced.
‘Bloody ’ell! This is solid concrete if you d’ask me!’ She tried to bounce on the unyielding mattress. ‘I doubt if we’ll get even a wink of sleep, God ’elp us.’ She sat up and bent down to reach for her handbag on the floor beside her, took out a packet of Player’s Please and a box of matches. She glanced up at the others. ‘If I don’t have a fag soon, I’m gonna go bloody mad.’ She lit up, then flopped back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, inhaling, and blowing out smoke like a steam train.
Eve gave a slight little cough – and Fay threw the cigarettes and the matches across onto the bed Eve was sitting on the edge of. ‘Fancy a drag, Eve? Be my guest…at least these aren’t rationed!’ She took another deep drag. ‘I was desperate for one on the bus but it was so hot and stuffy I didn’t like to.’
‘I don’t smoke, actually,’ Eve said, rather primly.
Alice looked across at her thoughtfully. Of the three of them, Eve seemed the most unlikely candidate for the war job that had been allotted them.
‘You don’t know what ya’ missin’ – you should try it!’ Fay told her. ‘Fags keep you going, they’re good for you!’ She inhaled again deeply, and coughed. ‘I’ve just donated a coupla’ boxes of Woodbines to the Red Cross for the parcels they send to our soldiers. See – ciggies are helping us win the war!’
Alice sat down gingerly on the bed next to her. And had to agree with Fay. It was rock-hard.
For a few moments no one said anything, each privately weighing up the present situation. And it was a weird one, Alice thought. For the foreseeable future the three of them – complete strangers – were going to be thrown together, sharing everything – including their bedroom. Alice had only ever shared with her mother before.
And what if they didn’t get on together? Didn’t like each other? Fall-outs and unpleasantness would be terrible, make everything so much worse than it need be. She glanced briefly at the others as her thoughts ran on…she felt certain that Fay was going to be easy company, but Eve was a different kettle of fish. For one thing, she’d turned up dressed as if she was going to a garden party instead of embarking on life in a farmyard! She had a precious way of speaking, with an aloofness about her which was a bit off-putting, her whole manner suggesting that she was far too good for present company. Alice shrugged inwardly. Whatever lay ahead, they’d just have to make the best of it.
Presently, Eve was the first to start unpacking. Very carefully. After taking out some of her personal items which were on the top and putting them in a neat pile, she began to lay out her uniform. Breeches, fawn shirt, long woollen socks. She glanced up at the others, holding up the green V-neck pullover. ‘Are we expected to wear all this? In this heat?’ Adding, rather petulantly – ‘Why can’t we just wear our dresses?’
Fay opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, then thought better of it and got off the bed and began to unpack as well. She flung everything out all around her on the bed, then stuck the regulation cowboy hat on her head at a jaunty angle. ‘D’you think this suits me? Will I get off with someone when I wear it if we go out?’ She went over to the mirror and groaned. ‘No, it doesn’t and I won’t. It’s ’orrible.’ Then, impulsively, she slipped off her dress and thrust her legs into the corduroy breeches, her feet into her pair of thick brown brogues. And started jigging around.
‘Come on – this calls for the Hokey Cokey!’ she cried.
Instinctively, Alice followed her lead, and with just their bras, breeches and brogues on, the two linked hands and whooped into the popular number, the floorboards creaking and groaning beneath them. “Ho’ Hokey Cokey Cokey ! Ho’Hokey Cokey Cokey!…knees bend, arms stretch, ra, ra, ra…!”
Well, it had been a long, hot day, they were being thrown into another world, and for a few moments they needed to unwind and try to see the funny side of life…
But Eve didn’t join in, instead turning away to place her uniform in one of the cupboards. And the others didn’t try and persuade her. It was going to take time for Eve to lighten up.
Presently, after she’d unpacked, Alice thrust her suitcase under the bed and stood up. ‘I would like to check out the lavatory,’ she said ‘Shall we take a look around?
They went down the stairs and through the kitchen. Mabel was nowhere to be seen, but there was a huge brown teapot standing on the table, with milk and three enamel mugs. There was no sign of the Jack Russells, but the sheepdog they’d noticed earlier got up languidly from its place on the stone floor by the range and came over to be made a fuss of. Eve immediately bent down and put her arms around the animal’s neck, planting a kiss on its head and Alice looked at her quickly. Perhaps Eve had a dog of her own, and was already beginning to feel a bit homesick.
Next to the scullery was the lavatory. Its door was partly open, the rough stone walls whitewashed, a strong smell of disinfectant competing with the whiff of farm manure. A long chain dangled from the ancient cistern above, and Fay said hurriedly –
‘This isn’t exactly private is it…shall we suss out the other one Mrs. Foulkes talked about? The one further away down there somewhere?’
They went outside, the dog following, and made their way down the centre of the garden – which was packed with vegetables – their tread noiseless on the soft earthy path, the hum of bees and summer insects adding to the sultry atmosphere.
By now it was early evening and still very warm. As they wandered along, it was impossible not to appreciate where they were. The farm lay in a gentle valley, the fields rising up and away as far as the eye could see, and Alice felt a sudden surge of optimism about what lay ahead. For one thing, even if Eve was rather shy and out of her depth, Fay seemed the permanently cheerful sort and she, Alice, would never be the one to put the cat amongst the pigeons. They’d all get used to everything, and each other, in time. They had no choice.
The best of it for all of them was that the Germans wouldn’t be interested in them down here, out of the way. They wouldn’t hear or see a thing of the war this distance from the city. There’d be no sound, they’d be able to sleep peacefully at night – even if those beds did seem rather hard – with no blackout and shouts of “Put that bloody light out!” They could treat it like an unexpected holiday…couldn’t they?…even if they’d been warned that the work would be hard. Well, it wouldn’t be hard all the time, surely? Someone still had to feed the chickens and collect the eggs…
At the very end of the path they could see a low shed with its door closed, and Alice said, ‘Well, since this was my idea in the first place – shall I be the one to risk it?’
The others stood back as Alice opened the door and peered inside. Then she turned to face them again, her hand over her mouth trying to stop laughing.
‘I don’t believe this,’ she said. Even in the early years living in Hotwells, things hadn’t been this primitive. ‘Have a look,’ she said.
As the others peered in suspiciously, they saw that the windowless premises comprised a broad shelf of wood with three holes, side by side, cut into it. Some newspaper had been cut into squares and attached to a piece of string hanging on a nail on the wall. And the smell was memorable – to say the least.
‘Well,’ Fay said, ‘there certainly won’t be the need for any queuing, will there! We can all go together! Like I said – we’re gonna be the three wise monkeys all sittin’ in a row! Blimey, wha’ a laaaff!’
Eve was obviously mystified. ‘Where…where does it…I mean, after you’ve…been…what happens to everything…where does it actually…go? It can’t just stay down there, can it?’
‘Shovelled into a cesspit, my luvver, round the back there,’ Fay said practically. ‘But ’course –I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of cesspits in Bhaaaaaath Sphaaaaaa!’ She put on a posh accent. ‘Still, never mind. Any port in a storm, eh girls?’
After they’d all used the facilities – separately – the girls made their way back to the farmhouse and into the kitchen where Mrs. Foulkes was pouring their tea.
‘Ah there you are, luvvers,’ she said. ‘Glad yer lookin’ around and making yerselves at home. Now drink this while it’s still fresh.’ She handed them each a mug of tea. ‘Then I’ll get Roger to take up some hot water for you to wash. Supper’s almost ready.’
Chapter Two
Farmer Foulkes emitted a sustained, satisfied burp, then stood up, pushing his chair back. His wife looked up at him sharply.
‘Now then, Walt…manners…we got company…’
Walter was unapologetic. ‘Jus’ my way of sayin’ thanks for a gert lush supper,’ he said. ‘That was a rare bit a’ goat, that was, and other un’s fattenin’ up nicely as well.’ He let his gaze slide to each of the girls in turn. ‘An’ anyway, these ain’t company – they’re our Land Girls an’ they might as well get used to our ways.’
Alice swallowed quickly. So they’d just eaten goat! She’d never tasted it before – had thought it was mutton… but it had certainly been delicious, accompanied by crisp roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, carrots, turnips, runner beans, and a massive Yorkshire pudding nestling in rich brown gravy. Followed by a crusty apple pie and mouth-wateringly sweet custard. The sugar in that must have used up everyone’s ration for the week! The table had groaned with what could only be called a surfeit of good food. Did everyone living on a farm have this much to eat every day, Alice wondered? It was something she had never even thought about.
Walter Foulkes was a huge man, with a rather churlish manner and an obviously cynical attitude regarding the employment of townie women on his land. But he knew he had no choice. The lads from the village who’d always worked for him had already been called up, but at least Roger was allowed to stay. At least until further notice.
The farmer had a head of greying, black hair and eyebrows to match, and Alice imagined that he’d probably been a handsome man in his youth. And his wife, too, would have been an attractive girl… Mabel’s hair, wound up in a big knot on top, was still a strong brown colour, though tinged with grey, and her eyes were large and expressive. The two would probably have been a golden couple, before life and weather and work had got to them.
And how would she, Alice, look at their age? How would the twins, and Sam look? She couldn’t imagine Sam looking anything other than he was now…or was, the last time she’d seen him. Tall and straight, with a mass of thick hair the colour of conkers polished smooth, swept back from an aristocratic forehead, his profile chiselled, his dark eyes meltingly soft…the epitome of distinctive, British masculinity.
And above all – he was clever and courteous. And kind…had been, to Alice, from the very beginning. Over the years he had taught her so much, passing on all sorts of important things he learned at his boarding school. Had shown her how to form opinions and hold her own in any discussion, to contrast and compare, to give due consideration to other points of view…to think…
And he’d shown her how to dance. The waltz and the quickstep. And the foxtrot – the foxtrot had an elegant, unhurried, movement. Alice liked the foxtrot best of all.
The farmer was staring down at the girls, now, sizing them up, and Alice noticed how red and fat and swollen his hands were as they gripped the back of his chair.
‘First thing t’morrer I want ee all up the field, diggin’ spuds,’ he announced. ‘Second crop’s ready, and I don’t want no ’angin’ about. But you’ll have to wear summat decent on your feet.’ His lip curled slightly. He’d noticed their sandals, what they were wearing. He glanced at his wife. ‘They boots did arrive, didn’t they, Mabe?’ he added.
Mabel nodded. ‘Came last week,’ she said.
The heavy boots were the one item which had been delivered to the farm separately. They certainly wouldn’t have fitted very well in a suitcase.
Now Roger Foulkes stood as well. He was a tall, good-looking lad in his late twenties, with a twinkle in his dark eyes and a readiness to laugh if anything remotely amusing was said by anyone. Of course, Fay, who’d sniggered at the piece of human behaviour just now, was already on his wavelength, and Alice noticed how easily the girl had got Roger’s attention.
Alice had also noticed Eve’s reaction to Mr. Foulkes’ crudeness…she’d seemed thoroughly embarrassed, keeping her eyes on her plate. Poor girl, Alice thought, this was going to be a completely different world from the one she obviously knew in dignified, cultural, Bath, and maybe she just would not be able to stick it. Land Girls giving up on the job before they’d barely begun was not unheard of – but Alice hoped Eve wouldn’t give up. For some reason that she couldn’t really explain, Alice wanted them, the three of them, to get through this together.
The farmer clumped his way to the back door and went out without another word, and Mabel said as she started clearing the table –
‘’Ee’s gone to look around last thing for the night,’ she said. ‘Always does.’ She piled the pudding dishes one on top of the other. ‘And don’t mind ’im,’ she added. ‘’Is arthritis always plays him up in the heat, but ’ee’s all right, really.’ She turned to Roger. ‘Now Rog – why don’t you just show them…Alice and Fay and Eve…around for a few minutes…’fore it gets too dark? Give ’em some idea about what we’ve got ’ere? An’ what they might be going to do…’
The three got to their feet, and Alice said – ‘But can’t we help with the washing up, Mrs. Foulkes?’ Alice had never been used to leaving chores to others.
Mabel smiled broadly. ‘No, that’s a’right, luvver. You just go out, now, with our Rog. And then it’s ’eads down for all of you! Tis gonna be a long day tomorrer!’
Doing as they were told, the three girls followed Roger out of the farmhouse. It was not quite dark, and still very warm as they made their way around the immediate precincts…Roger pointing things out as they went. The chicken enclosure was huge, all the birds roosting quietly, and Alice said tentatively –
‘How many chickens are there, Roger? It’s an enormous pen, isn’t it?’
Roger grinned. ‘Hundreds and hundreds,’ he said cheerfully. ‘They have the life of Riley, and they’re all my mother’s babies – though there are far too many for her to give them all names! And when her geese have their goslings you can’t keep her away from the nursery!’
The farm was larger than it had seemed at first glance as they walked around the cow sheds and milking parlour, past the goat pen, and the pig sties where the animals were still shuffling and rooting around for food. Three massive barns were already stacked right up to the top with hay and straw, and as Roger began leading them further away up to the crop fields, Alice couldn’t help thinking how hard and relentless working on a farm must be. Well, they were about to find out, weren’t they, but it was all right for them. They were only going to be here temporarily, while for Roger – and his parents – it must be a gruelling lifetime’s work.
But Roger wasn’t grumbling – and certainly not today. Thanks, Mr. Hitler, he thought, there’d never be another time when three gorgeous girls would be living on their farm! He glanced down at them as they all made their way across the fields.
‘I bet you all groaned when you were told what you were going to be doing for the war effort,’ he said lightly. Then, after a moment, he added, ‘I should have thought they could have found something a bit more…well…lady-like – tidy – for you than sloshing around in mud. Because it does rain here, you know. And then it’s not nice.’ He looked down at their pretty sandalled feet. ‘You’ll certainly be needing your boots.’
‘That’s why they’ve been provided,’ Fay said smartly, ‘and don’t you worry about us, Roger. We’re perfectly prepared for what’s ahead – aren’t we, girls? – and it’s insulting of you to think we’re only fit for “lady-like” jobs! What do you think we are? A trio of pointless twerps?’ She strode on ahead a few steps. ‘Just lead us to it! We’ll cope with whatever you throw at us!’
Roger caught her up, longing to hold her hand but not daring to. ‘OK, OK, sorry I spoke,’ he said teasingly. It stirred something in him to be challenged by a woman.
Eve, who’d been rather quiet, spoke up. ‘Could we turn back now?’ she asked plaintively. Well, they seemed to have been walking for ages, with Roger pointing out which crops grew in which fields and when, and her feet were tired.
Roger nodded, turning around reluctantly. He’d liked to have gone on walking for another hour – in the present company! He looked down at Alice, sizing her up. Of all of them, it was she who seemed to be really taking in her surroundings, he thought, seemed really interested in everything she was being shown, and had been asking him questions as if she was preparing for an exam.
Roger took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet country air. He hadn’t felt so up-beat for years.
Later, the girls made their way up the narrow, dark wooden staircase to their room. As they went inside, Fay flicked the switch on the wall and the one bulb hanging from the ceiling struggled to emit a pale yellow beam.
‘Oh dear, there’s not much light in here, is there,’ Eve said slowly, going over to her bed and sitting down. She looked around her. ‘It makes everything look, well, eerie, doesn’t it,’ she added, giving a little shiver of distaste.
‘Spooky, you mean,’ Fay agreed. ‘Hey – perhaps there’s a resident ghost lurkin’ about! I’d love to see a ghost, I really would! This whole place is ancient enough for all sorts of weird goings-on!’
‘You don’t really think there is one, do you?’ Eve began worriedly, and Alice interrupted, laughing.
‘Don’t be daft, Fay,’ she said, shooting the girl a warning glance. Eve didn’t need anything more to unsettle her.
Just then there was a tap on the door, and Mabel stood there holding three saucers, some candles and a box of matches.
‘I just thought maybe these might be useful,’ she said. ‘The light’s not so good up ’ere, is it?’ she added.
After she’d gone, the girls each melted the end of their candle until the wax dripped, then stuck it onto a saucer. And soon the room glowed even more atmospherically, throwing strange, moving shadows into the corners and walls.
Eve shivered again, putting her candle down on the floor by her bed. And thinking of her home, her room, of the life she’d left behind her…for who knew how long? Thinking of her parents.
This was the time they’d be getting ready for bed, deciding whether they wanted Horlicks or Ovaltine last thing…or whether to have a pot of tea for a change if they thought the evening meal had been a bit heavy for a milk drink. And Eve supposed that by now they’d be lining up their tablets…four at night for her father, three pink, one white, two for her mother, both pink, then two white ones for both of them next morning, the glasses of water at the ready on the bedside tables. Eve sighed inwardly. They were perfectly capable of sorting out their tablets by themselves, but they’d always insisted on her doing it for them. And it wasn’t as if they really needed them…they just bought packets of the things each time they went to the chemist – laxatives, sedatives, anything for aches and pains and sore throats and headaches – convinced that every advertisement they read was genuine.
Well, they’d have to rely on each other without her now, Eve thought. They would have to try and think for themselves for a change. But she hoped they’d enjoyed the tin of pilchards and the salad she’d prepared and left for their supper.
Getting up, she went over to the cupboard where she’d put her nightdress and wash bag. The sooner she got ready for bed and went to sleep – if she was going to be able to manage a single wink – the better. She glanced over her shoulder.
‘Although the meal was very nice, and very appetizing, I did think there was far too much food on the table tonight for everyone, didn’t you?’ she said. ‘It was rather – well – extravagant, wasn’t it.’ Although nobody was starving in Britain, the rationing system had made people more careful with what they had, no one expecting huge portions of food at meal times any more. And obesity in the population was virtually unknown. Eve had certainly been very circumspect with helping herself from all the dishes on the long kitchen table earlier.
‘Well, I wasn’t complaining,’ Fay said flatly. ‘It’s a long time since I had a jolly good old blow-out, and as far as I’m concerned we can have more of the same tomorrow.’ Holding her candle aloft, she marched across the creaking floor to the basin. There was still plenty of water in the jug left over from their earlier wash, and she swilled her face and hands quickly, then started doing her teeth. Dipping the brush in and out of one of the tin mugs of water on the table, spitting into the bowl, then tipping everything into the bucket beneath. It was all a bit laborious and a lot more inconvenient than having access to taps and flushes, she thought – they’d made their second walk past the cabbages after Roger had said goodnight – but they’d get used to it. They’d bloody well have to.
Finally, she cleaned the bowl around vigorously with her flannel and squeezed it out, then turned to glance at the others.
‘Bathroom’s vacant!’ she exclaimed. ‘’S’all yours!’
Presently, after Alice and Eve had undressed and taken their turn at the basin – which it had to be said was big enough to bath a baby in – all three lay down, glad to stretch out after a long and tiring day, even if it did feel as though the beds were made of hard core.
