Letters To Alice. Rosie James

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СКАЧАТЬ – 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 СКАЧАТЬ