But very rarely. Lived here all my life you might say, so I know what’s what around this village. Mind, I keep my mouth shut. The less you say, the more you hear. And I can tell you there’ve been women come to my house who have seen her. Admitted it.’
‘No men?’
‘We-e-ll, men might have seen her, but men don’t avail themselves of my services, Ness lass. And I mean services of the occult. I read palms, as Lorna will have told you, and I do the tarot cards, though not often. Too much death and destruction in the cards. I do psychometry, too.’
‘That’s a big word, Martha!’
‘Aye. I’m not as green as I’m cabbage looking, Ness Nightingale. I know a lot of big words, and that particular one means I can pick up messages from things. Now, if you had a young man and you was worried about him, you could give me something he’d handled and I could tell.’
‘Tell things about him, you mean?’
‘Indeed! Just by holding it in my hands. Or putting it to my forehead where the inner eye is.’
‘Well!’ Psychometry was a new one! ‘But did the ladies who came to consult you tell you about Ursula?’
‘One or two did, over the years. Probably why they came in the first place. Seeing the nun must be a bit of a shock – well, to the uninitiated, that is. But Ursula don’t appear willy-nilly. Only to certain folk. Sometimes it’s years and no one sees her and things die down and she’s all but forgotten. Then she’s back again.’
‘In the wood?’
‘Always the wood where Dickon waited. Never seen her myself, but then I wouldn’t.’
‘Why wouldn’t you, Martha – with your gifts, I mean?’
“’Cause the nun only appears to lovers. True lovers. If they are despairing, like she was, she comes to comfort them – to let them know it’ll be all right. Leastways, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to over the years.’
‘And you’ve never been in love, Martha?’
‘No. Never felt the need for it. Have you – been in love, I mean?’
‘Well I – I …’ Such directness caught Ness unprepared. ‘N-no. I haven’t. Not truly in love.’ And may her tongue drop out for the lie!
‘Then let’s hope one day you will be. Truly in love, I mean, then you just might meet Ursula.’
‘I might at that.’
Ness was glad they had come to the farm and all talk of ghosts and nuns and lovers – and lovers denied! – had to end. She would never, ever, offer her hand to Martha Hugwitty, because those black eyes could see into your soul. And as for her inner eye – well heaven only knew what that could see.
‘Morning!’ she called to Kate, standing on the doorstep. ‘Another lovely day!’
It had been a lovely day, Ness thought as she walked back to Ladybower. Hot and very hard work, but for a few hours the world and the war had been shut out. Not a single bomber had flown overhead, even. She wondered if there had been a letter for Lorna and what was in it. No land girls! Positively no land girls. She really, really hoped not.
‘Hi there!’ She passed a newspaper-wrapped parcel to Lorna. ‘One rabbit, skinned!’
‘Great! I’ll roast it for tomorrow’s supper. There’s loads of parsley and thyme in the garden. But how did it go at Glebe?’
‘They finished the ten-acre field, then everybody mucked in to give the first turn to the field that was cut yesterday. I wasn’t very good at it,’ she laughed, ‘but Mr Wintersgill said I’d be tossing hay like a good ’un by the time it’s dry. Given good weather, about ten days, he said. Any news?’
‘From William? Yes. He hasn’t changed his mind about you, even though he didn’t mention you until the last line. I’m sure you will have found another billet for the land girl before I come home on leave. Ask Nance to help you. That’s the only mention you got, Ness. And as for Nance Ellery helping me find you somewhere to go, it was she who suggested you come here in the first place! I mean, what’s it got to do with Nance? If I wanted rid of you, I could see to it myself. I’m not as stupid as William thinks! But I’ve made up my mind, there’s no question of you going. Like I said, this is my house.’
‘Now see here, Lorna, there’s goin’ to be trouble for you if I stay. I don’t want to be the cause of friction between man and wife.’
‘You won’t be. I’ve been thinking about it ever since the letter came, and I’ve got it fixed. I went to see Flora Petch.’
‘The nurse at Larkspur Cottage?’
‘That’s her. Mind, I had to be careful – couldn’t say William was being stupid about you being here. I – I’m afraid I had to tell her that although I loved having you here, I wondered if you could stay at her place when William comes home. She thought I wanted him and me to be alone, so I let her.’
‘And?’ Ness took in a deep breath.
‘And she said fine by her. Any time at all. I said I’d give her your rations and pay her the billeting allowance for the week and she said she’d look forward to having you. So you see, you’re doubly wanted.’
‘And you’re sure …?’
‘Ness Nightingale! If you ask me if I’m sure once more I’ll thump you! I’ve got it all straight in my mind now. William needn’t have joined up just yet. His age group shouldn’t have to register for months, and even then it’s anybody’s guess when he’d have actually been sent for. He could still be here, but he joined the Territorials even before the war started and risked early call-up so he could get the regiment he wanted. He chose to go, Ness, and I choose to have you here. William can’t have it all his own way. There’s a war on and, before very much longer, civilians are going to have to be a part of it!’
‘A ladies’ branch of the LDV?’ Ness grinned.
‘No. But people like me without encumbrances will have to knuckle down to war work and neither William nor Nance Ellery will be able to do anything about it! So get yourself into something cooler. You’ve got twenty minutes. It’s Woolton pie tonight!’
Woolton pie, Ness thought as she stripped and made for the bathroom, was what was known as a desperate dish, because you were desperately short of rations; of fat to make pastry for a crust and of good red meat to put underneath it. Woolton pie consisted entirely of mixed vegetables, moistened with yesterday’s leftover gravy, and atop it a crust made of unrationed suet, courtesy of your kindly butcher!
But tomorrow they would feast on roast rabbit, courtesy of Glebe Farm, delicately stuffed with thyme and parsley from Ladybower’s garden. Mind, Ness wasn’t altogether sure it was right to kill such nice little creatures, but having been assured they were no better than vermin, caused a lot of damage on the home front, and that they were much in demand as off-the-ration meat, she allowed her scruples to fly out of the wide-open window.
‘I was talking to Martha today,’
