Vera’s rewards came mostly when she was working with animals and her feelings for them deepened as her skills in handling them improved. At first she had been afraid of the larger animals and had been put off by the strong smells, not only of the stables, the byres and the pigsties, but also by the smells of the animals themselves. Thanks to Pietro, she learned how to approach them gently but firmly, and the more time she spent with them, the more her confidence grew.
‘See how much he love you,’ Pietro said one day as one of the temperamental shire horses came to nuzzle her hand when she slipped into the stall to groom him. ‘He look for apple or carrot. He know you kind person. Not like some people,’ and he pointed to several of the mean-looking whips that were pinned up on the wall.
Vera was thinking about this at the dinner table one night as she felt one of the dogs brush by her leg then stop to lick her hand as she leaned down to pet it. She felt a flash of pride and smiled, trying to picture her mother’s reaction if she suggested they should have a dog at the Mission. Suddenly Mrs Temple stood up and tapped a spoon against one of the teacups, calling for silence. Everyone stopped eating their vegetable stew and looked up in surprise because she rarely interrupted their meal.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Mrs Temple said, ‘but I do have an important and not unpleasant announcement to make.’ She beamed at them until she had everyone’s attention. ‘As you will have noticed, since you have been here it hasn’t been possible to have any social get-togethers like those we used to have in the past. In fact, you’ve had very little to do during your time off except occasionally go into the village. Well, whether you realize it or, not we used to have regular social evenings once a week and the main attraction was that they were held here at Holden Manor. One of the reasons why they became such a popular tradition was that it gave some of the village folk an opportunity to come to visit us, which they always seemed to enjoy.’
Vera could see Mrs Temple was looking at Tucker as she said this and the young maidservant was nodding enthusiastically.
‘Every Saturday night,’ Tucker said, ‘regular as clockwork, we had a do in the barn where you lot are now sleeping. I must say we’ve missed them, haven’t we?’ she said looking directly at Jones.
‘Yeah, they were good fun,’ he agreed. ‘It’s a pity we’ve not had any recently. I reckon it’s ever since them Eyeties have come. Once the prisoners were here, folk were probably too scared to come.’
Mrs Temple ignored his outburst. ‘Obviously the barn is no longer available to us for that purpose,’ she went on and she nodded towards the girls with a smile. ‘To make up for that, her ladyship has suggested that we hold a special social next Saturday in the main house, and she insists that we invite as many local people as possible.’
‘Woo hoo! That sounds like fun,’ Margaret whooped. ‘So who would you invite?’
‘I’ve already approached a couple of the local community centres in Holden who always liked to come and then there are several church groups who’ve also enjoyed our hospitality in the past. We always ask the men from the onsite barracks and there are plenty of those this year. Then there are the other land girls, the ones who have been here much longer than yourselves and who board out. Oh yes, and this time we are going to include the Italian POWs, I don’t think anyone will mind and I think they will enjoy it.’
‘But that’s taking a huge risk, isn’t it?’ Jones said. ‘After all, wasn’t it their fault the dos got cancelled in the first place? Because no one trusted them?’
‘I don’t think so, Jones,’ Mrs Temple said icily. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from.’
‘I’d have thought they’d have been on their best behaviour,’ Jenny said. ‘They aren’t our enemies any more, they’re our allies. Didn’t Italy declare war on Germany in October? I’m sure they aren’t going to ravish us all in our beds!’ Her tone was joking but there was an awkward pause. ‘They’d be the first suspects, wouldn’t they? And they haven’t so far, anyway,’ she said.
‘Of course, and no one’s suggesting anything of the kind, Jenny,’ Mrs Temple said. ‘We’ve never had reason to believe they are anything but perfectly nice people.’
‘Once you get past their unfortunate politics,’ Margaret said under her breath. ‘But I suppose it just sounds funny, that’s all, to say you’re inviting prisoners.’
‘I think you’ll find that most people around here refer to them as POWs rather than use the actual word prisoners, for that very reason,’ Mrs Temple said a little primly.
‘After all, it wasn’t their fault they got caught up in the war.’ Vera spoke up with some spirit, but quickly sat back when no one else commented.
‘And what will we all be doing at this social?’ Jenny broke the moment of tension that followed. ‘Will there be any music?’
‘Well,’ Mrs Temple began, ‘her ladyship is offering the use of the drawing room this time, so there is the piano on offer, and one of the local community groups have already said that they’ll be able to provide a small swing band from among their members, as they have done in the past, and possibly with a singer this time. If we can roll back the rugs, I think you’ll find the wooden floor underneath is perfect for dancing.’ She beamed round the group once more and there was much head nodding, with no one offering any opposition now.
‘And the Marquis has some gramophone records he will lend us for the evening, when the band members need to take a break,’ Mrs Temple said. ‘The only condition is that someone should take responsibility for looking after them and for playing them at the appropriate time. So long as that happens, then we shouldn’t be short of music.’
‘Will there be any refreshments?’ Jenny asked.
‘There is plenty of homemade lemonade that has been sitting in the ice box waiting for such an occasion and Mr Clarke should be able to supply enough bruised fruit for me and Mr Grayling to make up a tasty punch bowl – without alcohol, of course.’ She paused and looked up and down the table. ‘So, as it’s now official I take it you approve and would all like to come?’ There was a sudden buzz in the air and a general aura of excitement as everyone began talking at once. Vera giggled and looked over to Lily with a knowing smile. At least they would both have something interesting to tell their mothers when they next wrote home.
Chapter 23
The talk among the girls for the rest of the week was solely about what they called the Big Party, although Mrs Temple insisted on referring to it as The Social. They talked about who they might be able to dance with and what kind of music they preferred and Tucker seemed to take every opportunity to visit the drawing room as if she was responsible single-handedly for all the arrangements.
‘I think she likes to show off her knowledge of the family and her familiarity with the house,’ Margaret said one day when Tucker had been particularly obnoxious. ‘She will keep talking about the “young master” as if he belonged to her. The latest is that he’s promised to help her roll back the carpet to make sure the room’s fit for dancing.’
‘And is he going to grace us with his presence?’ Lily asked, not wanting to admit that her blood was racing at the very thought of Duncan appearing at the party.
‘According to Tucker he is,’ Jenny said.
‘What on earth does one wear to a “social”?’ Lily asked. She dispiritedly pulled out a dress that had been stuffed at the bottom of her suitcase since she had first packed for the trip to Kent and she shook her head. They had hardly had much social life since they had arrived at Holden Manor so her leisure clothes hadn’t mattered before; but she had forgotten about the dress and now unfortunately it was badly crumpled. It was in a pale blue fabric that looked like crepe de Chine and which creased as badly as the natural silk, even though it was only an imitation.
‘I’ll iron it for you, if you like,’ Jenny offered. ‘I think there’s an iron on the range in the kitchen if there are any hot coals to put in it.’
Lily stood up and held the dress a
gainst her. ‘Do you think it’s retrievable?’
Jenny shrugged. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Vera had brought a lemon-coloured pleated skirt and a white organza blouse that she liked to wear with it; to her amazement it didn’t look too bad as far as being creased was concerned. Her mother had insisted she put it in her bag at the last minute.
‘In case there’s any need for you to dress up for best. You never know, you might even go to church one day,’ Ena had said. Vera had taken no notice of that but it was one of Bob’s favourites and it made her feel good whenever he told her how nice she looked in it. It would remind her of him if she wore it tonight and it would give her confidence.
Lily helped herself to a glass of punch for courage, although she knew there was no alcohol in it, and she kept her eyes fixed on the drawing-room door, trying not to look too obvious as she eagerly awaited the arrival of the young marquis. She hadn’t seen Duncan since she had first met him in the grounds and the idea that he could have such a fancy title to his name still made her laugh. He sounded like one of the exotic Sheiks or Counts who were usually the dashing heroes in the cheap novels she loved to read from Boots Book-Lovers’ Library. The crowd was trickling in and the band had already begun to play.
Lily had already turned down offers from several of the airmen from the barracks who had asked her to dance, but her patience was rewarded when Duncan finally arrived. She couldn’t help feeling a little flustered when he came over to talk to her almost immediately, but she did her best to keep her composure.
He was dressed in plus fours with a fine ‘v’ necked wool pullover that showed off the long pointed collar of the casual shirt he wore underneath. He looked as if he was going to play a round of golf rather than attend a dance but the outfit did mark him out as different. Lily was immediately aware of Tucker glaring at her as Duncan continued to engage her in conversation but she tried not to take any notice. She actually found it funny when Tucker tried to find every excuse to interrupt. The young maidservant kept offering them drinks on a silver tray and, when the band paused, insisted on asking his advice about how to operate the large mahogany radiogram, even though the corporal in charge of the records seemed to be having no difficulties in making the gramophone work.
When the live music started up again for the next set of swing numbers and couples stepped once more onto the floor, swaying and jigging, Lily was delighted that Duncan asked her to dance. She loved it as they shuffled across the floor together at some speed and with much merriment while the band swung their way through a completely new set of numbers, but by the time the musicians paused for refreshments again she was so exhausted that she was not sorry when Duncan dropped his arms and asked if he could get her a drink. Despite the chill of the evening, she was now very hot and she welcomed the break and the sharpness of the homemade cordial that revived her.
‘Well, I’m sure this is all a great deal of fun,’ Duncan said with a grin, as he patted his brow with a large white square of handkerchief, ‘and I thank you for that.’ Then he tilted his head and lowered his voice as he suddenly leaned towards her. ‘But I think there is a whole lot more fun to be had elsewhere.’
Aware that he was now staring at her meaningfully, Lily suddenly felt coy, for she was not sure whether she had fully understood his meaning. But when he leaned in even more closely and whispered, ‘Why don’t you come to my room? We can make our own music and I’ve got a bottle of bubbly we can pop,’ she clearly understood what he meant, though she wasn’t sure how to reply.
‘Ten minutes?’ he said.
‘Oh, but I don’t know …’ she began.
‘You go up the main staircase and follow the landing to the left,’ was his immediate response. ‘It’s the third door on the right at the end of the corridor, next to the nursery,’ he said, as if she should know where the nursery was. Not wanting to appear ignorant, she didn’t ask for more specific details though her heart was pumping wildly as she imagined herself trying to find her way about the large house. But she couldn’t speak and she felt the blood rise from her exposed neck right up to her cheeks and beyond as she considered what they might get up to when she found him. For a moment she had a flashing image of Johnny, and knew she could never let that happen again, but she was confident that she had grown up and matured since then and this time she knew what she had to say.
The village band had paused for a few minutes when Duncan left and Lily stood alone. People were chatting in small groups and it gave her time to control her breathing and to think very carefully concerning what she was about to do as she slowly surveyed the room. Margaret and Jenny seemed to have become attached to two of the British airmen who had stripes on their sleeves and she was not surprised to see Vera no longer standing on her own, but deep in conversation with Pietro. Lily allowed a respectable length of time to elapse before she followed Duncan out of the room and she made no attempt to acknowledge any of her friends as she left.
She took what she assumed was the main staircase, but when she counted the rooms off the landing she realized she had clearly made a mistake and she wasn’t sure what she should do. She knocked gingerly on the only door on the right-hand side of the corridor and, when no one came to answer it or called for her to enter, she cautiously turned the handle and peeped inside. It turned out to be a large bathroom with a freestanding bath on clawed feet and she hastily shut the door again and went back down the stairs.
She was relieved when she finally found what she now recognized as the main staircase. It swept majestically round both sides of a central flight of stairs and when she stepped onto the landing and veered to the left as Duncan had instructed, she was able to count up ahead to where she could see the third door on the right. However, as she did so, she saw someone entering the corridor from the other end and come walking towards her. Hoping she hadn’t yet been seen, Lily took a step back into the shadows until she was almost entirely hidden by an enormous velvet drape that covered the wall and casement window from floor to ceiling. She stood perfectly still and held her breath, counting off the moments she thought it would take for the figure to pass her hiding place, but when she heard no sounds and felt no movement, she ventured to peer out from behind the curtain. She was just in time to see Tucker, carrying a glass of what could have been whisky on a small silver tray, stop outside the third door on the right and give a timid knock. She heard nothing more, though she assumed someone must have responded for Tucker grasped the handle boldly and disappeared from view.
Lily stared aghast, as the door shut firmly behind the maidservant and she hardly dared to breathe as she waited for Tucker to reappear. But Tucker didn’t, and although Lily waited for some time it became obvious that neither she nor Duncan would be making a further appearance. It wasn’t until the giant, free-standing clock in the reception area below struck ten that Lily realized how long she had been waiting and she was tense and stiff from having been frozen in one position. Feeling foolish, yet hardly able to believe what she had witnessed, she cautiously slid out from her hiding place. She made sure there was no one else about before she went slowly downstairs and made her way back to the drawing room.
There was slow music now issuing from the gramophone where the corporal and another soldier seemed to be in charge of the records, and only half a dozen couples were wrapped in each other’s arms on the dance floor, swaying slowly to the gentle rhythms. Everyone else, including Vera and Pietro, seemed to have disappeared. Lily smiled up at the two airmen and pretended to look at some of the titles of Duncan’s large collection while she tried to decide what to do. She was hardly able to see the words on the labels through the mist that was clouding her vision, but in her mind’s eye she could see the determined look on Tucker’s face and she wondered if she had had a narrow escape.
Lily spoke to no one as she wandered slowly across the courtyard and back to the barn where she scaled the ladder and threw herself down on her mattress. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ she was crying in
her head. ‘Why do I always manage to pick the wrong boys? Boys who seem interested in me at first but who, when it comes to it, always manage to let me down?’ Fortunately, she had not been seen by Tucker and she was thankful that none of her friends had been there to see her humiliation either, though she couldn’t be sure if anyone else was in the barn now so she knew she had to cry as quietly as possible.
Vera hadn’t known what to expect from something that was called ‘a social’ and she was pleasantly surprised to find it involved much scope for dancing and drinking delicious fruit punch. She had danced with several of the airmen from the barracks before the POWs put in an appearance but as soon as they arrived, she naturally gravitated towards Pietro. His eyes widened when he saw her and for a moment he held her at arm’s length.
‘You look very pretty,’ he said.
Vera smiled shyly. That was what Bob always used to say when she wore this outfit.
‘Bob very lucky man.’
They danced several times and Vera couldn’t help wondering what it might have felt like to be dancing once again with Bob, until eventually she felt so overwhelmed by feelings of homesickness that she had to pull away and suggested they have a break.
Wartime on Coronation Street Page 17
