extraction,’ Annie had solemnly informed the other land girls on the day they had all arrived at Lower Post Stone.
‘Extraction?’ Marion had bellowed. ‘You make yourself sound like a tooth!’ And she and Winnie had howled with such ribald laughter that Rose Crocker, spooning out mashed potato, that first supper time, had pursed her lips in disapproval.
Apart from her name, her classic Jewish looks and the nationality of her antecedents, Annie was an East Ender, born, if not bred, in Duckett Street and – when she had arrived at the farm – had spoken with a broad, cockney accent. This, Alice noticed, had, over the past few months, become moderated. Possibly due to her friendship with the well-educated Georgina, or because of her association with Alice herself, Annie no longer dropped her aitches and now said ‘singing’ instead of ‘singin’, ‘I came home’ instead of ‘I come ’ome’, and ‘how d’you do’ rather than ‘pleased to meet you’. If she wanted to attract the attention of a waitress she did not attempt to summon one by calling her ‘miss’.
Winnie and Marion accused her of putting on airs.
‘First off she sets ’er cap at Georgina’s toffee-nosed brother and now she’s after this Hector fellow!’
While it was true that Annie’s intense but brief affair with Lionel Webster ended badly, it had, for both parties, been an innocent and mainly happy interlude. When Lionel had succumbed to the pressures of his middle-class upbringing and ended the relationship, Georgina had been ashamed of her brother’s snobbishness. Annie, however, accepted the situation, consigning it easily enough to the past, possibly because Lionel, although handsome and passionate, washardly more than a schoolboy in her eyes and no match for her lively mind and more mature temperament. Hector Conway, on the other hand, and rather to her surprise, suited her well.
The two of them had met when Hector, in his capacity as a researcher with the War Artists Scheme, had visited the farm to inspect the huge mural which a Jewish refugee had painted on a pair of barn doors shortly before taking his life. Hector’s interest in the painting, which represented the persecution of the Jewish community in Amsterdam at the time of the Nazi invasion, was genuine enough, but it was the mutual attraction between him and Annie Sorokova that had drawn him back to the farm on several occasions and had resulted in him being introduced to Annie’s Polish family during her brief Christmas leave.
‘It’s about Hector,’ Annie told Alice, who was unsurprised to hear it.
‘How is he?’ she asked, lightly. ‘You saw him at Christmas, didn’t you?’ Annie nodded.
‘He came to tea,’ she said. ‘He met my family. Everyone liked him, Mrs Todd, and he talked to Grandfather for ages about Polish art, and he’d heard of my uncle who was a well-known engraver. He wants me to visit his family in Oxford and stay overnight so he can show me the colleges …’ Annie paused, watching Alice, who was very aware of the importance of her reaction to this news.
‘That sounds lovely, Annie. When d’you hope to go? You’ll need a couple of days’ leave, I expect? We’ll haveto sort it out with Mr Bayliss and he is a bit short-handed at the moment, what with Mabel only working part-time because of the twins … But we’ll manage something …’ She watched Annie’s delicate face cloud, the perfectly shaped lids were lowered over her expressive eyes. Alice asked if there was anything wrong.
‘Not exactly wrong , Mrs Todd, but … well … Hector’s father is a don, you see.’
‘Yes. I remember you telling me. But how does that affect …?’
‘They’re what’s called academics, Mrs Todd. All his family are. With letters after their names. Hector’s father, his brothers and even this Aunt Sybilla person who lives with them. They’re all scholars and that. His mother died, you see, when the boys were quite young and
‘Extraction?’ Marion had bellowed. ‘You make yourself sound like a tooth!’ And she and Winnie had howled with such ribald laughter that Rose Crocker, spooning out mashed potato, that first supper time, had pursed her lips in disapproval.
Apart from her name, her classic Jewish looks and the nationality of her antecedents, Annie was an East Ender, born, if not bred, in Duckett Street and – when she had arrived at the farm – had spoken with a broad, cockney accent. This, Alice noticed, had, over the past few months, become moderated. Possibly due to her friendship with the well-educated Georgina, or because of her association with Alice herself, Annie no longer dropped her aitches and now said ‘singing’ instead of ‘singin’, ‘I came home’ instead of ‘I come ’ome’, and ‘how d’you do’ rather than ‘pleased to meet you’. If she wanted to attract the attention of a waitress she did not attempt to summon one by calling her ‘miss’.
Winnie and Marion accused her of putting on airs.
‘First off she sets ’er cap at Georgina’s toffee-nosed brother and now she’s after this Hector fellow!’
While it was true that Annie’s intense but brief affair with Lionel Webster ended badly, it had, for both parties, been an innocent and mainly happy interlude. When Lionel had succumbed to the pressures of his middle-class upbringing and ended the relationship, Georgina had been ashamed of her brother’s snobbishness. Annie, however, accepted the situation, consigning it easily enough to the past, possibly because Lionel, although handsome and passionate, washardly more than a schoolboy in her eyes and no match for her lively mind and more mature temperament. Hector Conway, on the other hand, and rather to her surprise, suited her well.
The two of them had met when Hector, in his capacity as a researcher with the War Artists Scheme, had visited the farm to inspect the huge mural which a Jewish refugee had painted on a pair of barn doors shortly before taking his life. Hector’s interest in the painting, which represented the persecution of the Jewish community in Amsterdam at the time of the Nazi invasion, was genuine enough, but it was the mutual attraction between him and Annie Sorokova that had drawn him back to the farm on several occasions and had resulted in him being introduced to Annie’s Polish family during her brief Christmas leave.
‘It’s about Hector,’ Annie told Alice, who was unsurprised to hear it.
‘How is he?’ she asked, lightly. ‘You saw him at Christmas, didn’t you?’ Annie nodded.
‘He came to tea,’ she said. ‘He met my family. Everyone liked him, Mrs Todd, and he talked to Grandfather for ages about Polish art, and he’d heard of my uncle who was a well-known engraver. He wants me to visit his family in Oxford and stay overnight so he can show me the colleges …’ Annie paused, watching Alice, who was very aware of the importance of her reaction to this news.
‘That sounds lovely, Annie. When d’you hope to go? You’ll need a couple of days’ leave, I expect? We’ll haveto sort it out with Mr Bayliss and he is a bit short-handed at the moment, what with Mabel only working part-time because of the twins … But we’ll manage something …’ She watched Annie’s delicate face cloud, the perfectly shaped lids were lowered over her expressive eyes. Alice asked if there was anything wrong.
‘Not exactly wrong , Mrs Todd, but … well … Hector’s father is a don, you see.’
‘Yes. I remember you telling me. But how does that affect …?’
‘They’re what’s called academics, Mrs Todd. All his family are. With letters after their names. Hector’s father, his brothers and even this Aunt Sybilla person who lives with them. They’re all scholars and that. His mother died, you see, when the boys were quite young and
Similar Books
