Wave Me Goodbye. Ruby Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ in her arms, explaining, making excuses.

      ‘Enough. You are dismissed, except you, Paterson.’

      Grace, feeling as if every ounce of strength had left her body, watched the others leave; some sent her sympathetic looks, others looked away as if perhaps afraid of being associated with her and her uncontrolled outburst.

      For a time, Miss Ryland said nothing. Grace looked straight ahead. She remembered standing in terror in front of Megan and, before that, surely a long time ago, she had stood in an office like this one – but who had stood talking to her? No matter; pieces of memories came and went and they would perhaps come again and become clearer. She waited as the manager moved to the window, stood there looking out, returned, fiddled with some pencils on her desk. Several needed to be sharpened.

      ‘I would throw you off the course if I could, Paterson, but somehow you have made a better impression on Mr Urquhart, and he is likely to vote in your favour. Unfortunately, galling as it is, he has more clout.’ She moved closer to Grace and stared into her face. ‘Listen to me. You go to your room, stay there until teatime, say nothing to the other girls and, for the remainder of the course, keep out of my way, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll pass. Now get out.’

      Grace walked out, her legs trembling. Had she ever before seen such hatred in anyone’s eyes? Megan had looked at her in annoyance but surely never with hatred. She stood for a moment at the foot of the staircase, holding on to the banister, and a small nervous giggle eventually escaped. Who on earth was her champion, Mr Urquhart?

      Room 11 was empty. Grace walked over and sat down on her bed. Dead. One moment alive and the next dead. Poor, poor little Olive. Grace could not let Daisy Petrie go out of her life so easily. She got up, took out her notebook and quickly, without conscious thought, scribbled a note to Daisy:

      Dear Daisy,

      I’m all right. Tell everyone I’m sorry and please forgive me. Hope everyone is well.

      G.

      She had been thinking of a special Petrie as she wrote.

      I’ll tell them everything soon, Grace decided.

      Having written at last, she felt a great weight had been lifted from her, and she stretched and looked around the room.

      Next to her bed was Olive’s, with its large pile of extra clothing donated by the others. Poor Olive did not need them now.

      ‘Senseless not to take them back,’ most of the others said when they returned to the room after tea. ‘Who knows what kind of digs we’ll get next month? Might well be grateful for an extra vest.’

      Grace left her spare vest and thick stockings on Olive’s bed, and sighed with relief when, somehow, a few days before graduation, they disappeared.

      By the time the last day of the course came round, daffodils had sprung up all over the farm and a lilac tree near the front gate promised to burst into perfumed full bloom.

      ‘Sorry I won’t see that,’ said Betty.

      Grace and Betty were walking together towards the bus that was to take them to the nearest railway station, where they were to begin their first journeys as fully accredited land girls.

      Golly, Betty, I’ve done it – we’ve done it. Stupid, but sometimes I believed it was all too good to be true. We’re land girls, qualified, and I can almost believe I smell lilac.

      ‘Happen there’ll be plenty of lilac everywhere in the next few weeks,’ a male voice interrupted them. It was George, the dairyman. ‘I’m taking a heifer over to Bluebell Farm, ladies. Station’s on my way, if you don’t mind squeezing in.’

      ‘Fantastic,’ the girls chorused.

      ‘Even prepared to squeeze in beside the heifer,’ Betty said, laughing, but she was quick to scramble up in the front of the dependable old Austin K3, beside Grace.

      They drove in silence for a time and it was only when they were on the main road towards the town that George spoke: ‘Nasty business over that lassie.’

      Their euphoria evaporated and the girls nodded quietly.

      ‘Learn us all to err on the side of doing too much too early rather than too little too late.’ He leaned forward and wiped an imaginary speck off the inside of the window. ‘Happy with your assignments? Together, are you?’

      ‘Unfortunately, not,’ Grace spoke first. ‘Betty did really well and is off to a lovely farm in Devon. Me? I didn’t cover myself in glory and so I’m off to some farm no one’s ever heard of.’ She did not add that her relief at the knowledge that she need never look at Miss Ryland again or hear her voice threatened to make her sick with excitement. She wanted to sing, to jump up and down with happiness, but it was impossible to do either at this precise moment.

      George’s emitting a sound that could possibly have been an attempt at laughter broke into her thoughts. ‘Happen you’ve landed on your feet; you have friends, you know.’

      ‘We all thought that, too, George,’ said Betty, ‘although she’s hard to convince. There’s a Mr Urquhart who’s been in her corner more than once.’

      ‘Aye. Thrawn bugger, Urquhart. Just be careful to pick your fights carefully, Paterson, and you, too,’ he added, looking at Betty. ‘Now here’s station; out you get.’

      The two land girls dropped down to the ground and hurried to the back of the lorry to retrieve their suitcases. ‘Thanks, George,’ they said together.

      ‘If you should see Mr Urquhart—’ began Grace.

      ‘Expect he knows already, lassie. Cheerio.’

      He drove off, leaving the two girls standing looking after him.

      ‘He couldn’t be.’ Grace continued to look until the dilapidated-looking lorry was out of sight.

      Betty started to laugh. ‘He could, you know. I bet you half a crown that he’s your knight in shining armour.’

      Grace shook her head. George was a kind and patient, if demanding, teacher, but a knight in shining armour …? There was no opportunity to dwell on it, though, as there was little time to spare before they caught their different trains.

      ‘You will write, Grace?’

      Grace promised, although even as she did, she remembered all the letters that needed to be written. I will be better organised. I will keep in touch with Betty but, before I do, I will contact all my old friends.

      Only when she was seated in the railway carriage, which was for once not crowded, did she have time to think about her new posting. Miss Ryland had given her an unsatisfactory report and dismissal had been threatened. Mr Urquhart had intervened and, instead, Grace was being sent to a large estate that had only just requested government aid.

      ‘Urquhart thinks you’ll do us proud, Paterson,’ Miss Ryland had said when she had told Grace of her new posting. ‘It’s a rather grand estate, owned by a real lord, not that anyone like you is ever likely to be anywhere near him or his family. You’re to be given quarters in the main house, somewhere off the scullery, I expect, so you’ll feel right at home.’

      Grace СКАЧАТЬ