Land Girls: The Promise: A moving and heartwarming wartime saga. Roland Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ for something to talk about. Something clever. Something that would impress her. Maybe he could tell her about the growing patterns of the turnip? He frowned inwardly at his own brain trying to make him look stupid. He was doing badly without further self-sabotage. But thankfully, Evelyn was quite capable of offering a conversational topic of her own.

      “So tell me more about Pasture Farm. How long have you been there?”

      “Came there after the war,” Finch said, before needlessly correcting himself. “The last one, not this one.”

      “Of course.” Evelyn smiled.

      Finch was grateful that he could make her laugh. He continued his story, feeling suddenly wistful for those lost days. “After it was all over, I was looking for work. Ended up at the farm working as a labourer. The farmer in charge, a chap called Godfrey, taught me everything I know and most of what I’ve forgotten. When he died, Lady Hoxley asked if I wanted to try running the place on my own. And that’s where I’ve been ever since. I’ve seen some times there, at Pasture Farm. Got married there. Saw my son being born there. My wife passing away. Watched my son go off to a war of his own. We had a big going-away party for that …”

      Finch’s mind drifted off, as memories filled his head. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he gasped when he felt Evelyn place a comforting hand on his across the table.

      “It’s good to remember the past, Fred,” she said, kindly. “Don’t ever forget the past.”

      “Yeah. I’ve got a grandson too, you know.”

      “You don’t look old enough!” Evelyn smiled. Finch grinned, realising she was joking.

      “Get away with you!”

      They sipped their drinks at the same time. Finch was pleased that he had slowed down. But he was still thinking about his next one. Evelyn continued the conversation, “What is it like having all those Land Girls around the place?”

      “It means I can be a bit more, erm, like a manager.” He smiled. “It’s really good because I don’t have to get my hands dirty as much, with all of them doing it all. Truth is, I haven’t planted a potato since this war started!”

      They giggled together. “No, they’re a good bunch of girls,” Finch said.

      “And there are two farms on the Hoxley estate, aren’t there?” Evelyn sipped at her cider.

      “Pasture Farm and Shallow Brook Farm,” Finch confirmed. “My one is the better farm, if I do say so myself. Shallow Brook was run by the Storeys. Have you heard of Vernon Storey?”

      Evelyn shook her head. She lived on the outskirts of Brinford, so there was no reason why she would know many people in Helmstead.

      “Nasty piece of work.” Finch scrunched his face as if he’d sucked on a lemon. “Wanted for murder, you know?”

      “Oh gosh,” Evelyn said. “What happened? Was it one of the Land Girls?”

      Finch leaned in close to tell her. “No, his own son.”

      Evelyn wanted to know more, but Finch didn’t want to spoil their evening with the whole sorry tale of Frank Tucker and Walter Storey, and how Iris had discovered the truth about Walter’s murder. It would put a bit of a dampener on things. No, he wanted to make Evelyn laugh again. He liked it when she laughed because her eyes twinkled and she’d arch her head back. Suddenly Finch wondered if he was falling for Evelyn Gray.

      “So I’ve taken over the other farm. Surprised meself, because I can barely manage one place let alone two!”

      It had the desired effect. Evelyn’s face broke into an amused grin and she arched her head slightly.

      “Got some help, though. Martin, the warden’s son, and John Fisher - he’s married to one of my girls - are sorting the place out for me.”

      “Sounds like you’re busy?” Evelyn smiled warmly.

      “Which is exactly why I need relaxing nights out like this!” Finch got up. “I’ll get us another round, shall I?”

      “All right. But that will be enough for me.”

      “Me too,” Finch said. As he carried the glasses to the bar, he glanced back to where Evelyn was checking her face in a powder compact. He had known her two weeks and they were getting on famously. Finch hadn’t noticed her at the dance. As far as he was concerned, he’d clocked eyes on her for the first time at one of Lady Hoxley’s agricultural shows. Finch had been showing his prize pig, Chamberlain, and was trying to get the pig into a gated enclosure. Evelyn and a group of women had been watching and Finch felt the weight of expectation upon him as he’d tried to manhandle the heavy animal.

      “Come on, you blighter!”

      But Chamberlain had turned quickly, taking Finch off balance, and the stout farmer had fallen face first into the mud. While some of the women couldn’t help but laugh, Evelyn looked concerned and ran to his aid.

      “Are you hurt?” she asked.

      “No. Only me pride,” Finch replied.

      “Let me help you.” And Finch had been surprised to see Evelyn outstretch her arms and try to corner Chamberlain in a bid to edge him closer to the paddock. She was gamely trying her best, but Chamberlain easily side-stepped her. Soon, Finch and Evelyn were working together in a pincer movement to cut off the pig’s escape route. Finally, after several failed attempts and some swearing from Finch, they managed to get Chamberlain into the pen. Finch slid the bolt across with a triumphant smile and mopped his brow with the back of his hand.

      “Thanks for your help, Mrs -?” Finch outstretched his hand to shake hers, but she scrunched up her nose instead. Finch looked down and realised his hand was covered in mud. “I’ll wash it first.”

      “Then I’ll shake it.” Evelyn laughed.

      And since then, they had seen each other three times. Two pub outings, including this one, and a trip to an entertainment show at the village hall. Finch was very happy with his new friend. Evelyn was happy too.

      As Finch brought the drinks back to the table, he was surprised to see that a visitor had arrived by Evelyn’s side. It was Martin Reeves, out of breath having run all the way from Pasture Farm.

      “Mr Finch!” he gasped. “You have to come back. It’s Iris!”

      “What is it?”

      “Mum is worried about her. She’s gone to her room.”

      “Well, can’t it wait?”

      Martin shrugged. He wasn’t sure. “She just told me to get you. She’s worried that Iris has been drinking.”

      “You want me to come back just so I can discipline Iris?”

      “Mum said it was important. Sorry.”

      Finch nodded, sighed and started to get his coat and hat. He said a hurried goodbye to the understanding Evelyn and made his way out of the pub to follow Martin back to the farmhouse.

      When СКАЧАТЬ