Lorna stared stubbornly ahead. ‘Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Who’s to say a married woman won’t be asked to work for the war effort – ordered to work?’
‘Because married women don’t work!’
‘They didn’t, but there’s a war on now. And there might be an invasion! What would women do then? Just let it happen? Well, I wouldn’t, Nance. I’d fight at the barricades to stop them getting Ainsty!’
‘Wouldn’t we all? But Hitler won’t be interested in Nun Ainsty. He’d have to find it first! And if his lot came – what would there be for them here? A few houses, a pub, a farm and an empty manor house. The aerodromes, maybe. Probably he’d drop parachutists on the aerodromes around – Gilbert said so, only yesterday. By the way, how are you and the land girl getting on?’
‘Oh – Ness!’ Lorna was glad the invasion and her new hairdo were not to be discussed further. ‘She’s a dear. Makes me laugh and she loves it at Ainsty.’
‘I thought you’d get on well. Better than being forced to take evacuees, and company for you in these uncertain times. William should be grateful to me. And had you thought that once our Local Defence Volunteers get themselves organized, they’ll have to be prepared to turn out at any hour of the day or night if there’s an emergency. You’ll be lucky. You’ll have company, but I shall be alone, Lorna, if Gilbert gets the call!’
‘Y-yes, you will. But you’ll manage, I’m sure you will. You’re a very capable person,’ Lorna soothed. One concentrated glare from Nance Ellery could stop a paratrooper at ten paces!
‘I must agree with you there. Between you and me, I’ve always had to be the capable one. Gilbert doesn’t know how lucky he is!’
They had arrived at Meltonby church hall for the monthly meeting of the Women’s Institute and a talk entitled Making Your Rations Go Further – And Then Some! by a lady sponsored by the Ministry of Food, and Lorna was saved a reply. At least, she thought as they pushed their cycles out of sight behind the outside lavatories, it would seem that Nance would be on her side if ever it came to a showdown with William about her haircut and the wearing of lipstick. All things considered, it might not be a bad thing to have a capable lady on your side.
She wondered, all at once apprehensive, if William would ring tonight, because if he did, Ness would be obliged to answer and it wouldn’t help matters at all, especially since William had made no further mention of the land girl, and his last letter had been quite affectionate.
She sent her thoughts winging. Don’t ring tonight – please …?
‘Had a good time?’ Ness smiled a welcome.
‘Interesting. Got some food leaflets. Learned how to make a shelter cake and before you ask, if the alert sounded and you had to go to the shelter, you could leave it simmering merrily away on the stove.’
‘And if there’s anything left of your ’ouse when the all clear goes and you creep out of the shelter,’ Ness grinned, ‘then you’ll have a cake in the pan.’
‘After you’ve let it cool – otherwise it seemed to me you might as well eat pudding. But I think there’ll be a few shelter cakes made before this war is over. Anyway, what did I miss on the nine o’clock news?’
‘You want the good bits first? Well, the RAF boys are stepping up night bombing on Germany and President Roosevelt has laid down five freedoms.’
‘Oh, yes? Freedom from bombing, killing and rationing? Very original!’
‘Not exactly. Think I can remember what the man on the news said. It was freedom of information and religion and freedom from want and fear and persecution.’
‘So what’s new? Don’t we all want things like that? What else was there?’
‘Seems the Luftwaffe bombed Welsh ports last night; didn’t say where, but I reckon it was Cardiff and Swansea. All to do with softening us up, if you ask me, because our convoys in the Channel were attacked, an’ all.’
‘Any more bad news?’
‘Yes. There’s to be no August bank holiday this year.’
‘But there’s always been a bank holiday Monday! They can’t do that!’
‘Well, they have. Cancelled. And before you blow your top, you’d better sit down, ’cause tea is going to be rationed. As from tomorrow.’
‘Tea? But they’ve already rationed butter and sugar and bacon and meat!’
‘So now it’s two ounces of tea each person each week.’
‘Four miserable ounces between you and me, Ness? Well, all I can say is that it’s a good job I have two packets in the store cupboard! I mean – rationing tea.’
Tea was the universal comforter, the bringer-together in afternoons of neighbours and friends. Tea was so – well – British!
‘I can only tell you what was said on the news. It’ll be in the papers in the morning, if you don’t believe me.’
‘Oh, I believe you, Ness, and rot his socks the Clever Dick who thought of it! Tell you what – shall we have one last cup of unrationed tea? I’ll make it in the silver teapot and we’ll use the best cups and saucers.’
‘Might as well, queen. Go out with dignity. And it’s a good job me Auntie Agnes passed on last year, ’cause drinkin’ tea was like a religion to her, God rest her. Rationing tea would have been unthinkable to her.’ Go out with dignity all right, Ness pondered. She’d never had tea from a silver pot.
‘Put the kettle on there’s a dear, and Ness – did anyone phone whilst I was at the WI?’
‘No one. Was you expecting one from William?’
‘I’m always expecting one from him. What I didn’t want was for him to ring and you to answer it.’
‘Well, he didn’t ring so you’re off the hook. You’re still jumpy, aren’t you, about me bein’ here?’
‘No. You’re staying. But I am jumpy about William, and it isn’t just you. He hasn’t seen my hair yet!’
‘He’ll like it. I said so, didn’t I?’
‘You did. And Nance Ellery likes it, too. She didn’t ask me where I’d had it done, thank heaven, so she doesn’t know it was you.’
‘But why shouldn’t she know I cut it?’
‘We-e-ll, if William should happen not to like it, then –’
‘Oh, I see. It’ll be one thing less to lay at the land girl’s door, eh? Well, if he makes a fuss, tell him you don’t much care for his moustache, but you haven’t told him to shave it off! And you don’t like it, do you?’
‘If I’m honest, no. It makes him look older and it’s scratchy.’
‘When he kisses you?’
‘Yes.’
