Where Bluebells Chime

‘Tell you what,’ he smiled, getting to his feet, holding out a hand to her, ‘let’s go over to Denniston – see if Tatty’s back from Creesby yet.’

After what he’d been told, it was all he could think of to say.

6 (#ulink_b3abf10a-e3fb-57d9-9bee-29c6556fa3c4)

‘I suppose, Sir Andrew, you’ve nobbut come to see my land girl,’ Catchpole chuckled.

‘As a matter of fact, it was the tea I came for. Knew you’d have the kettle on just about now. But if it’s served by a pretty popsy, then so much the better.’ Laughing, Drew held out a hand. ‘Good to see you again, Jack.’

‘And you, young Drew. Welcome home. And who told you our Gracie was pretty, then?’

‘Polly Purvis. Daisy and I went to see her last night.’

‘Ar. And how’s that lad of Polly’s? Heard he’d got a job over in America. Planning on stopping there, is he?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. Polly seems to think Keth is agitating to get home, though she hopes, really, that he stays there. You can’t blame her. The last war didn’t do Keth’s father any favours.’

‘Keth’ll happen be wanting to get back to Daisy, though how he’ll manage it with all those U-boats about, I don’t know. But there’s nowt so queer as folk. If that’s what Keth wants, then good luck to the lad. But here’s tea, and here’s our new lady gardener.’

‘Good morning, Sir Andrew.’ Gracie stood hesitantly, a mug in either hand. ‘I saw you arrive – I’ve poured one for you, too.’

‘Hullo, Gracie.’ Drew rose to his feet. ‘Let me help you.’

‘Careful. These enamelled mugs are very hot.’

‘Don’t I know it. We use them in barracks.’ His gaze took in her thick yellow curls, held captive in a bright green snood, her shirt unbuttoned to show a long, slim neck. She didn’t wear make-up either and had a wide, ready smile. ‘Pull up a box,’ he invited.

‘If you’re sure that’s all right?’ Her eyes asked permission of the head gardener.

‘Course it is, lass. Us don’t stand on ceremony here. So tell us, Drew, how is the Navy treating you?’

‘No complaints so far, but it’s good to be home and –’

‘And you’d rather forget being a sailor, eh?’

‘Until I have to go back,’ Drew nodded. ‘It’s good to get out of uniform and not to have to do everything at the double, though when I get a ship things will be a bit less hectic, they tell me.’

‘So what do you plan doing with yourself, then?’

‘Daisy and I might go into Creesby – see a flick tonight. But no plans at all, really. I got up late this morning. I awoke at six as usual and it was marvellous not having someone yelling, “Wakey-wakey! On yer feet! Lash up and stow!” I felt peculiar in a bed, first night home. I’ve got used to sleeping in a hammock. They’re quite comfortable.’

‘But don’t you ever fall out of them?’ Gracie frowned. ‘And what’s lash up and – and –’

‘Stow. You roll up your hammock into a big sausage, then stow it in the hammock racks, all tidy. There’s two ways of doing things in barracks: Chiefie’s way, or the wrong way. You soon learn which,’ he grinned.

‘Do you like dancing, Sir Andrew?’

‘Yes, I do! Is there a dance on?’

‘At the aerodrome tomorrow night. There’s an invitation from the sergeants’ mess at Holdenby Moor pinned on the noticeboard at the hostel. They send a transport to the crossroads, the girls told me. All HM forces welcome, though it’s ladies they want most – for partners, I suppose. A lot of the girls go in dresses so Daisy could come too, if she said she was a land girl.’

‘And Tatty, my cousin – could she come? She’s mad about the Air Force.’

‘Don’t see why not.’

‘Then I hope you’ll have a few dances with me, Gracie. I need practice.’

‘That’s a promise. But don’t forget to wear your uniform or you’ll not get in. The transport leaves at half-past seven. If you aren’t there, then I’ll know you can’t make it.’

‘We’ll be there!’ Well, he and Daisy, though probably Aunt Anna wouldn’t let Tatty go. And that would be a pity, because Tatty was fun now. He’d forgotten how pretty she was until they’d met yesterday. ‘And before I forget, Jack, Mother is coming to see you – something about keeping a few hens, she said.’

‘Hens! Me? Nay, Drew. Hens in my garden wouldn’t do at all!’ Hens would be bothersome, like cats. Just think of the damage they could do if they got out. They’d be scratching and picking everywhere.

‘She’s very keen to have some. Where do you suggest they should go then?’

‘Don’t know, and that’s for sure.’ Anywhere, but in his garden!

‘I like hens. Before Grandad came to live with us – he came when Gran died – he used to keep hens in his back garden,’ Gracie offered. ‘Well, bantams, actually. Pretty little things. Laid ever such tiny eggs. Mind, he had to keep an eye on them. Bantams are flyers – always trying to get out – but if you were to get some like Mrs Purvis has at the hostel, they wouldn’t be a lot of trouble. Hers are Rhode Island Reds. They’re very placid – not like bantams or Leghorns.’

‘For a town lass you seem to know quite a bit about hens, Gracie Fielding.’

‘Not all that much, Mr Catchpole, but I like them and if Mrs Sutton wants some hens of her own, I’d like to look after them for her. You have to give up your egg ration, though. You take your ration book to the Food Office and they cancel your egg coupons and give you chits to buy hen meal instead. It’s by far the better way. You get a lot more eggs and they’re lovely and fresh. You save all the scraps and potato peelings and such like, then boil them up and mix them with the meal. Hens lay well on it.’

‘Then I reckon you and Mrs Sutton should have a word about it, lass. You’m welcome to her hens.’

‘Would you mind, Gracie?’

‘Not a bit, Sir Andrew.’

‘Good. Well, that’s tomorrow night settled, and the hens,’ he smiled. ‘And, Gracie, please call me Drew. Most people do.’

Catchpole drained his mug, observing the couple and saying not a word. Seemed it wasn’t only the lads from Holdenby Moor who’d be taking a fancy to his land girl. Young Drew seemed smitten an’ all. And he must remember, if Miss Julia ever did get her dratted hens, to ask Gracie to keep the droppings for him when she cleaned out their coop. Hen muck made good manure; brought tomatoes along a treat.

He sucked on his pipe. Happen a few Rhode Island Reds mightn’t be such a bad idea after all. As long as they were well away from his garden, that was!

‘Do let her go, Aunt Anna,’ Drew urged. ‘There’ll be a transport laid on to get us there and I’ll take good care of her. Tatiana does so want to come.’

‘I’m sure you would take care of her, but a dance at the aerodrome …?’

‘Dada says I can go if Drew’s there,’ Daisy offered. ‘It’s all very proper. There won’t be any rowdiness. The aircrew boys are very nice.’

‘But it would be all blacked out and goodness knows what might happen,’ Anna murmured, feeling guilty for even thinking what could take place should her daughter be enticed from the dance floor to heaven only knew where.

‘But everywhere is blacked out, Mother! And I know what you are thinking,’ Tatiana flung. ‘You think I’ll get up to mischief, don’t you, necking round the back of the hangars with some bloke who’s after what he can get?’

‘Tatiana – do not speak like that! I thought no such thing!’ Anna’s cheeks flushed pink. ‘It’s just that feelings run high when there’s a war on and –’

‘Don’t worry. Tatty wouldn’t be able to leave the dance. There’ll be a guard on the door, most likely,’ Drew hastened. ‘The Air Force couldn’t allow people the freedom of the aerodrome, if only for security reasons. Tatty will be fine with Daisy and me.’ And girls of eighteen weren’t so naïve as Aunt Anna tried to make out, he thought, though he was careful not to say so. ‘I’d see her back home.’