‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you? You’re goin’ to do part-time work and if I’m not mistaken you’re goin’ to offer that woman a cleaning job? My, but there’s a devious side to you, Lorna Hatherwood! I wonder what William’s goin’ to say when he hears about it?’
‘Look – I haven’t exactly taken the postlady’s job, and I don’t even know the name of the woman with two children, so it isn’t all worked out – yet.’
‘No, but it will be! And how much will you pay her, then?’
‘I – I thought a shilling an hour – it’s the going rate. If I paid her two shillings a day for two hours’ work – five days a week that would be –’
‘Ten bob. Would be like she’d won the Sweepstake, wouldn’t it? Mind, when you find out who she is, she mightn’t want your charity.’
‘It wouldn’t be charity! And if she didn’t want to come, I’d still take on the job at the post office – if it’s still on offer, that is. I’m determined to do something other than be a housewife. And a pretty comfortably-off housewife at that! D’you know, Ness, if I wasn’t a married woman, I might just be seriously thinking about volunteering for nursing or even the Armed Forces. They do say that women who volunteer for the Army can do all sorts of things – like working on a gun site or being a despatch rider or –’
‘Lorna! What’s got into you? Had a rush of blood to the ’ead, have you? Why all this patriotism, all of a sudden?’
‘It isn’t sudden patriotism. And I don’t know what on earth has got into me, truth known.’
But she did know. She had defied William and got away with it and it was giddy making! And now she was thinking of doing part-time war work – and asking a woman whose name she didn’t even know to help clean Ladybower, five days a week. Heady stuff without a doubt!
‘No more do I, but a mug of hot cocoa might help – it’s getting cold out here all of a sudden. And then we’ll see to the blackouts and you an’ me can have another chat about your war work, eh? And I’m not going to try to talk you out of it, Lorna. As a matter of fact I’m proud of you, girl. Only sleep on it tonight? See how you feel in the morning – then have a word at the post office if you still want to do it.’
And she would still want to be a lady postie, Ness sighed as she bolted down the flap of the hen ark. And she’d still be willing to push morning papers through doors for little more money than she was prepared to pay her daily help!’
Mind, it was still all up in the air – a wait-and-see situation that well might come to nothing and no harm would be done. Though if she became Ainsty’s postie – and paperboy – and the soldier’s wife was willing to help out five mornings a week, then Lorna could be heading for trouble, because William wasn’t going to like it. Not even in the name of patriotism!
September, loveliest of months. Now the harvest was in and Ness still nursing her scratched and sore arms. Ears of barley, as she too-late discovered, bore needles that played havoc with unprotected flesh. Another year, she smiled ruefully, she would know to cover up!
Now, weary fighter pilots found it difficult to believe that the fury hurled against their stations was now directed at London. An amazing daylight raid on the capital had sent the War Cabinet into angry retaliation. Berlin, hitherto unbombed, received its first heavy raid. At night-time. Open cities, it seemed, were no longer to be immune to bombing.
Now, at Nun Ainsty, the leaves on the trees in Dickon’s Wood were darkening as autumn neared. In Ladybowcr’s garden, six hens were in full lay. Not what you could call large eggs, yet, but white and perfect and in the opinion of Lorna and Ness, very beautiful.
Minnie Holmes, soldier’s wife and mother of two, had gladly accepted Lorna’s offer of housework. She particularly liked ironing, especially if the wireless was playing Music While You Work; liked polishing so you could see your face in things; liked Mrs Hatherwood who was a very kind lady. Minnie particularly liked Fridays when she received the ten-shilling note that made all the difference.
For Lorna’s part, delivering letters to Nun Ainsty’s few houses presented no problem. She had been given the use of a red GPO bicycle on which she pedalled to Meltonby post office each morning to collect letters, small parcels and newspapers. Going to work was doubly enjoyable because she had never worked before. No one in Ainsty thought it strange that she had taken it into her head to do her bit for the war effort. Nance Ellery thought it admirable, though she was of the opinion that the Women’s Voluntary Service would have been more appropriate, the plum and green uniform would have complemented Lorna’s fairness and been far smarter than the trousers, old gardening coat and GPO armband in which she set out for Meltonby every morning except Sundays. For this Lorna was paid fifteen shillings a week which she promptly returned to Mrs Benson’s counter in exchange for a savings certificate – further to help the war effort.
With past experiences in mind, she had written at once to William, telling him of her need to do something useful and that she had given two hours’ work each day to Mrs Holmes, who was grateful for the extra money, as William, with his knowledge of Army pay, would appreciate.
… Nance approves of my job, though I think she was disappointed I didn’t join the WVS. I like to tell myself that perhaps my very small contribution to the war effort will bring you home just that little earlier.
Please write and tell me you are proud of me?
And amazingly, William replied that though there was absolutely no need for her to work, he was coming to accept that this was everybody’s war. There were even ATS girls at Aldershot and two women officers who ate in the mess, and were no trouble at all.
‘Thank heaven for that!’ Lorna breathed, determined that from now on she would make sure her husband was told of anything she did which might be considered out of the ordinary.
‘William seems to be settling in nicely at Aldershot,’ she said to Ness. ‘In his last letter he said it had been rumoured there could be promotions all round and it was fingers crossed that I could soon be addressing my letters to Captain Hatherwood! But whether or not it happens, at least he seems more – well – amenable.’
‘Good.’ And not before time, Ness thought, returning her concentration to the letter she was writing to her parents, hoping Liverpool would not soon be bombed like London, without mercy. Blitzkrieg, the Germans called it. More than a thousand civilians killed and London hospitals hardly able to cope with the wounded. And a new word blitz added to everyday language. Ness was sorry for London, especially for those who lived in the East End, and hoped with all her heart that the city on the banks of the Mersey would be spared such savagery.
Deliberately she turned her thoughts to Ainsty, where the only bombers to fly overhead were our own. When would the soldiers come? There was still activity at the manor. Surely it was ready now? The windows had been cleaned inside and out and she wouldn’t be surprised, she had remarked to Kate, if the place hadn’t been given a thorough going over as well, after all the years of dust and neglect.
‘They do things wondrous slow,’ Kate sighed, for Glebe Farm had still not received the man promised by the Ministry of Labour, though he was expected any day now.
‘And when he does get himself here,’ Kate said meaningfully, ‘he will not be referred to as the conchie, but treated as normal – even though he might have ideas some folk don’t
