said nothing as she tried to get to grips with a new word. Menstruating, so that’s what they called it. She hated it – hated that she would have to go through this every month and she still didn’t understand why.
‘Nearly there, Hilda,’ said Gertie as at last they neared the village.
‘Good, I’m flaming freezing.’
‘It’ll get worse before it gets better.’
When they reached the general store, Ellen was about to climb down, but her mum said, ‘There’s no need for you to come in with me. Stay with Gertie.’
‘But …’
She was ignored, her mum hurrying into the shop.
‘What’s going on, Gertie?’ Ellen asked. ‘Don’t ask me, darling.’
It wasn’t long before her mum was back and clutching a cardboard box that Gertie leaned down to take from her while she climbed onto the cart.
‘Mum, what’s that?’ Ellen asked curiously.
‘Nothing much, a bit of shopping, that’s all. Right,’ she said, taking the box from Gertie, ‘we can go back to the cottage now.’
Ellen was puzzled, wondering how her mother had finished her shopping so quickly. ‘Aren’t you going to the butcher’s?’
‘No, now enough questions and let’s get home.’
As Gertie eased the horse out into the road a truck tooted from behind. As she pulled over, the sound of singing reached them as the vehicle passed. The tarpaulin was raised at the back, and they saw several women dressed in breeches, with green jerseys visible under open coats, all of them sporting brown felt hats. Some of them waved and Ellen waved back.
‘It’s the Land Army girls.’
‘The Land Army was first set up during the Great War following disastrous attacks on our merchant shipping,’ Gertie said, using this opportunity to give Ellen a history lesson. ‘We import about sixty percent of our produce, and with so many ships sunk during that war, Britain came close to starvation. The Land Army was formed and the girls carried out vital work in increasing our agricultural output. They were disbanded in 1919, but as we’re now in the same position, the government has re-formed the Land Army. Those women are invaluable to farms, either arable or dairy to increase production, and, though it’s jolly hard work, it’s once again vital.’
‘Rather them than me,’ Hilda said.
Gertie refrained from saying that both she and Ellen had been working the land for ages on her smallholding, and she didn’t know what she would have done without their help. When they left, she’d be lost – but as there was no sign of the war ending, thankfully she didn’t have to worry about it yet.
When they got back to the cottage, Hilda safely stowed the cake. Mrs Brandon had kindly offered to make it, insisting that she had enough ingredients hoarded to make it special. And it was, Hilda thought as she peeped inside the box.
‘Let me look,’ Gertie whispered as she came alongside, placing an arm casually around Hilda as she leaned forward. ‘I told Ellen to go upstairs and change into her old trousers.’
Hilda tensed. When Doug had left seventeen months ago she had missed him so much, and had thought nothing of it when Gertie had comforted her when she cried. The trouble was that since then Gertie still took to throwing an arm around her at every opportunity. Equally casually, Hilda moved away, saying, ‘It’s lovely, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, very pretty, and Ellen’s going to love it. Is it fruit or sponge?’
‘Fruit! You must be joking; dried fruit is getting like gold dust. It’s sponge, but Mrs Brandon has sandwiched it with jam.’
‘I don’t know how she had the patience to make all those tiny little flowers out of icing sugar. I hate doing anything that’s fiddly.’
‘Gertie, let’s face it, you hate anything to do with cooking.’
She grinned. ‘Yes, that’s true, but thankfully you do it now. It’s nice to have you in the kitchen while I’m doing the mucky jobs outside.’
‘When it comes to the pigs, rather you than me.’
‘They’re clean creatures really, but I’d better get on with it,’ Gertie said, giving Hilda another quick hug.
Hilda stiffened, but seeing Gertie’s open smile she decided that she had to be imagining things. Gertie was just being friendly, that was all. They were as close as sisters, and surely sisters occasionally hugged? Not that she had one to judge by and, like Gertie, she was an only child. Hilda was saddened. History was repeating itself with Ellen, and though she’d hoped to find that she was pregnant when Doug had left, once again her hopes had been dashed.
‘Yes, Gertie, you get on while I make a start on our lunch.’
‘Righto, but I can’t wait to see Ellen’s face.’
She’s just being nice, Hilda told herself yet again as Gertie hurried off, yet there was still a niggle of doubt …
At two o’clock, Hilda called both Gertie and Ellen inside. ‘Grub’s up, but before both of you sit down, I think a wash is called for.’
‘Oh … Mum.’
‘Don’t argue, Ellen.’
‘Come on,’ Gertie urged. ‘We are a bit dirty.’
‘A bit! It looks like the two of you have been rolling in mud.’
‘You look nice, Hilda,’ said Gertie, a soft smile on her face.
‘As it’s Ellen’s birthday lunch I thought I’d make a bit of an effort,’ she said, looking down at her skirt. ‘You two should do the same.’
‘I don’t own a skirt,’ Gertie said. ‘Ellen does, though she’s grown so much and I doubt the two she has would fit her now. Go on,’ she urged, ‘at least make yourself presentable.’
They were soon back, smiling with appreciation at the nicely laid table. ‘My, aren’t we posh?’ Gertie said. ‘It’s almost like being back in my father’s house.’
‘Hardly. For one we haven’t got silver cutlery, and this table only seats four, not twelve, but for once I’ve put a nice tablecloth on it.’
‘I think it looks lovely,’ Ellen said as she took a seat. ‘What’s for lunch?’
‘Vegetable soup.’
They all tucked in, and, once finished, Ellen was about to leave the table. ‘Hold on,’ Hilda said. ‘Stay there.’
‘Why?’
‘Never you mind.’
Hilda
