fell.
It was the absolute silence of a still country night. It dropped over them like a blanket. The world beyond the valley might have ceased to exist as the farmhouse, with its complement of assorted women, sailed on into the night.
But the act of thumping on the partition had roused Annie.
‘Listen…’ she whispered.
‘What to?’ said Hester, half asleep.
‘It’s like when we was hop-picking,’ Annie said. ‘The quiet always kept us awake the first coupla nights…’ They lay in the silence; their feet, cold when they first got into their beds, were warm now. Then the vixen barked, its shriek close and hideous.
‘Jesus!’ said Annie, lurching upright.
‘S’only a fox!’ Hester murmured and Annie dropped back shuddering, burrowing into her hard pillow and pulling the skimpy blankets up around her shoulders.
‘Whew! I near enough shit meself!’ she said. There was a pause before Hester spoke, almost reluctantly, as though her conscience was driving the words from her.
‘Annie.’
‘What?’
‘You shouldn’t say “Jesus” like that.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘OK then,’ Annie sighed, yawning. ‘No fags… No Jesus… OK? Night, Hester.’
‘Night.’
It felt like the middle of the night when they were roused and came, still smelling of sleep, down to the kitchen, where the porridge had caught slightly and the toaster, a wire contraption that had to be balanced on the paraffin stove, proved intractable and was abandoned in favour of the toasting-fork method. In front of the open door to the range, the girls noisily competed for space until Rose organised an orderly queue.
Outside, in the freezing darkness, Fred sat in the idling truck, his headlights picking up the figures of the girls as they emerged through the porch and came groping andstumbling towards him through the darkness. One by one they climbed, or were hauled, up into the back of the lorry where they seated themselves on benches that ran along each side of it.
‘This is it, then!’ said Annie. ‘Life in the Land Army! Shivering in the back of a truck as stinks of cow shit!’
‘In the middle of the night!’ added Christine, happy and uncaring because of the prospect of seeing her husband that evening.
‘Baint the middle of the night!’ said Hester, who was used to rising early.
‘Feels like it!’ whined Winnie, who never would get used to it.
‘My feet are freezing,’ said Gwennan, her Welsh voice half singing the words.
‘Should wear two pairs of socks inside your boots this weather, Taff,’ Marion muttered through chattering teeth. Gwennan told her to go teach her grandmother to suck eggs. Fred tried to hurry the stragglers by sounding his horn.
‘Doan wanna be late the first mornin’, do ee?’
‘Where are you takin’ us?’ Annie, in the passenger seat beside him, shouted over the revving engine.
‘To the Bayliss farm first off,’ he replied. ‘’Igher Post Stone, it be called.’ In the back Christine was counting heads.
‘Six, seven, eight… All aboard!’ she yelled. As Fred shoved the gear lever into position Rose appeared in his headlights,several bulging brown paper bags in each hand.
‘Wait, Fred!’ she commanded. ‘They ’asn’t got their samwidges!’ Alice, in Rose’s wake, carried an armful of the same small packages which the two women rapidly distributed amongst the girls.
‘’Ere!’ Rose called. ‘Georgina! Taffy! Hester… Catch!’ And while Fred swore at the delay, the girls chorused back, ‘Thanks, Mrs Todd! Ta, Mrs Crocker!’
As Alice and Rose picked their way back to the porch they could hear the truck labouring up the incline towards the Bayliss farm.
‘That’s them gone!’ said Rose, sitting on the porch bench to heel-off her boots and slip her feet into the plimsolls that, over a pair of her late husband’s socks, she had taken to wearing about the farmhouse. ‘And good riddance, I say!’ She followed Alice through the cross-passage and
It was the absolute silence of a still country night. It dropped over them like a blanket. The world beyond the valley might have ceased to exist as the farmhouse, with its complement of assorted women, sailed on into the night.
But the act of thumping on the partition had roused Annie.
‘Listen…’ she whispered.
‘What to?’ said Hester, half asleep.
‘It’s like when we was hop-picking,’ Annie said. ‘The quiet always kept us awake the first coupla nights…’ They lay in the silence; their feet, cold when they first got into their beds, were warm now. Then the vixen barked, its shriek close and hideous.
‘Jesus!’ said Annie, lurching upright.
‘S’only a fox!’ Hester murmured and Annie dropped back shuddering, burrowing into her hard pillow and pulling the skimpy blankets up around her shoulders.
‘Whew! I near enough shit meself!’ she said. There was a pause before Hester spoke, almost reluctantly, as though her conscience was driving the words from her.
‘Annie.’
‘What?’
‘You shouldn’t say “Jesus” like that.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘OK then,’ Annie sighed, yawning. ‘No fags… No Jesus… OK? Night, Hester.’
‘Night.’
It felt like the middle of the night when they were roused and came, still smelling of sleep, down to the kitchen, where the porridge had caught slightly and the toaster, a wire contraption that had to be balanced on the paraffin stove, proved intractable and was abandoned in favour of the toasting-fork method. In front of the open door to the range, the girls noisily competed for space until Rose organised an orderly queue.
Outside, in the freezing darkness, Fred sat in the idling truck, his headlights picking up the figures of the girls as they emerged through the porch and came groping andstumbling towards him through the darkness. One by one they climbed, or were hauled, up into the back of the lorry where they seated themselves on benches that ran along each side of it.
‘This is it, then!’ said Annie. ‘Life in the Land Army! Shivering in the back of a truck as stinks of cow shit!’
‘In the middle of the night!’ added Christine, happy and uncaring because of the prospect of seeing her husband that evening.
‘Baint the middle of the night!’ said Hester, who was used to rising early.
‘Feels like it!’ whined Winnie, who never would get used to it.
‘My feet are freezing,’ said Gwennan, her Welsh voice half singing the words.
‘Should wear two pairs of socks inside your boots this weather, Taff,’ Marion muttered through chattering teeth. Gwennan told her to go teach her grandmother to suck eggs. Fred tried to hurry the stragglers by sounding his horn.
‘Doan wanna be late the first mornin’, do ee?’
‘Where are you takin’ us?’ Annie, in the passenger seat beside him, shouted over the revving engine.
‘To the Bayliss farm first off,’ he replied. ‘’Igher Post Stone, it be called.’ In the back Christine was counting heads.
‘Six, seven, eight… All aboard!’ she yelled. As Fred shoved the gear lever into position Rose appeared in his headlights,several bulging brown paper bags in each hand.
‘Wait, Fred!’ she commanded. ‘They ’asn’t got their samwidges!’ Alice, in Rose’s wake, carried an armful of the same small packages which the two women rapidly distributed amongst the girls.
‘’Ere!’ Rose called. ‘Georgina! Taffy! Hester… Catch!’ And while Fred swore at the delay, the girls chorused back, ‘Thanks, Mrs Todd! Ta, Mrs Crocker!’
As Alice and Rose picked their way back to the porch they could hear the truck labouring up the incline towards the Bayliss farm.
‘That’s them gone!’ said Rose, sitting on the porch bench to heel-off her boots and slip her feet into the plimsolls that, over a pair of her late husband’s socks, she had taken to wearing about the farmhouse. ‘And good riddance, I say!’ She followed Alice through the cross-passage and
Similar Books
