Beneath a Frosty Moon

by Rita Bradshaw

  Cora nodded sadly. ‘Mrs Burns told us it’s a special place where girls like Enid can be looked after and have their babies, and then the babies are usually adopted by married couples.’

  ‘Enid should have told someone,’ he said at last. ‘And why on earth didn’t Maud speak up when she had the chance?’

  ‘I’ve told you why.’

  Cora’s voice had verged on sharp. Placatingly, he said, ‘I know, I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . . I wasn’t criticizing. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just worried about you.’

  Cora glanced at him. He hadn’t said, ‘about you all’, but ‘you’, meaning her. She shrugged, but her voice was soft when she said, ‘I’ll be all right. I’ve told the others we stick together and must always be on our guard – safety in numbers and all that.’

  It was the Sunday afternoon after the police had come in the week to question the girls. After instructing Maria and Maud to stay together and take care of Anna and Susan, Cora had gone to meet Jed as arranged the week before. The two of them were sitting in their favourite spot on a grassy bank overlooking the fields. The next day was the first of September. Cora was due to return to school but Jed would be working on the family farm. She’d miss seeing him at school, she knew that, but there were still Sunday afternoons to look forward to. That was if Jed wanted to continue their rendezvous. It was hard to fathom him out sometimes.

  As though he’d read her mind, Jed said, ‘First of September tomorrow, autumn’s nearly upon us.’

  Cora nodded. Already along the lanes and wayside the elms and sycamores were faintly touched with yellow, and the fruits of blackberry, sloe and elder were ripe in the hedgerows. She and the others had collected great basketfuls of blackberries the day before for Mrs Burns to make into jam and wine. There had been none of the usual chatter though, each of them, even Anna and Susan, aware of the absence of one of their number.

  ‘Cora, I want to ask you something.’ Jed turned to face her, his blue eyes reflecting the sky above them and his jet-black hair shining like silk. His shirt collar was undone and his shoulders, broad and muscled for a youth of his age, strained against the material.

  He was so handsome, Cora thought, as her heart began to thud erratically. She would die if he said he didn’t want to see her again.

  ‘I should probably wait until you’re fifteen, I know that, until you’ve left school and so on, but I can’t. I want to ask—’

  ‘What?’ she asked breathlessly.

  ‘I want to ask you if you will be my lass. Mine. So if any other lad asks you, you can tell them you’re spoken for.’ He had said it in a rush and with a dart of surprise she realized he was nervous. ‘I – I know we’re young and all that but I love you, Cora. I’ll never feel about anyone else the way I feel about you, I know that. And you like the country, don’t you? I mean, you wouldn’t mind living here when – when the war’s over?’

  Cora smiled. Now it had happened she wondered how she could ever have worried it wouldn’t. ‘I’d like to be your lass,’ she said shyly. ‘Course I would.’

  Jed leaned forward. The kiss was sweet and inexperienced, but they were both trembling when it ended. ‘There,’ he whispered, ‘it’s signed and sealed.’ He took her hand, turning it over and kissing the palm. ‘I love you,’ he said again. ‘For ever.’

  ‘Me too.’ She touched his face, her eyes shining.

  They stared at each other and then began to laugh as he pulled her to her feet, twirling her round as he shouted to the sky, ‘We love each other, do you hear? Cora and Jed love each other for ever.’

  Wilfred ground his teeth. He was hidden in the hedgerow, a spot he’d found early on when he had begun following Jed on a Sunday. He was always careful to keep hidden and although it was torture seeing them together he couldn’t stop. During the night hours when he lay awake in the room he shared with Horace, he’d tell himself he’d fix Jed the way he’d fixed Godfrey Taylor but it hadn’t proved as simple as that. He had been banking on the fact that now Jed had left school it would mean he’d have Cora to himself during school hours and they could get back on their old footing. They were meant to be together, him and Cora. She was his world, she always had been.

  He ran his hand across his face, telling himself he had to remain strong. She was so beautiful, so lovely, and of course other lads would want her, but there was a cord binding him and her together that was unbreakable.

  He heard them laugh again and the fear swamped him despite his attempt to keep it at bay. She didn’t really love Jed, he knew she didn’t, she couldn’t. She was his and she had always been his. He had known from a young lad that they would be together. Get married, have a family. That was how it should be. That was right. He couldn’t let anything or anyone get in the way of that. It was for Cora’s sake after all; no one could possibly love her the way he did and she just had to understand that. Somehow he had to make her see.

  In spite of himself the tears came, bitter and hot, giving no relief but making his head ache.

  How could she let scum like Jed Croft touch her, contaminate her? But it wasn’t her fault, he told himself in the next breath. She was perfect, but she was also so innocent, so naive. Jed’s fancy looks and the fact that he was kingpin in their age group would turn any lass’s head, especially one as trusting as Cora. But Jed wouldn’t have her.

  His hands were bunched into fists and now he shut his eyes, slowly relaxing taut muscles and gaining control of himself. This was his strength and he had recognized it some time ago after he had dealt with Godfrey. It was all about believing that you could make things happen, things that other people wouldn’t have the guts for. He might look puny on the outside but his mind was super-strong and that was what mattered. He would dispose of Jed somehow and Cora would turn to him again, he knew she would. She loved him. Perhaps not in the way she felt about Jed, but that was girlish infatuation. It wasn’t real.

  He lifted his head, taking a deep breath of the clean air as he opened his eyes. Jed was brawn but he had the brains; he would win. More and more of late he had realized how gullible people were, people like the Crofts, for instance. He had determined some time ago to get Jed’s parents on side and it had been easy. He said and did what they expected and wanted him to do and say, and he knew Mrs Croft especially had a soft spot for him.

  He could hear Jed and Cora talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Now and again she would laugh, a little giggle that made him want to bash Jed’s face in. He imagined himself lying in wait somewhere, a big rock in his hands, and then how it would feel to bring it crashing down on the back of Jed’s skull. He could almost feel the impact; his fingers were tingling and he was sure he could smell the metallic tang of blood on the breeze. But it couldn’t be like that; he had to be cannier from now on where Jed was concerned. He’d been going about things all wrong by showing he considered Jed an enemy and alienating Cora.

  He nodded at the thought, frowning. And he’d be careful what he said and did in front of Horace too. He had always thought that the youngster saw him as an older brother, but after the incident with the bull, Horace had been different, the little turncoat. But no matter. He knew he could win Horace round if he put his mind to it.

  The drone of aircraft high above in the blue sky drowned out Cora and Jed’s voices and brought his eyes peering upwards. Fighters flying home from yet another sortie over German-occupied territory in Europe, perhaps. He wondered how many of their company hadn’t made it. It was all very well for Churchill to declare that the V-sign was the symbol of the unconquerable will of the occupied countries and a portent of the fate awaiting the Nazis, but people were dying in their tens of thousands, weren’t they? The BBC had urged listeners in Europe to go out at night when it was dark and chalk the V-sign on doors, walls, pavements, anything, in order to rattle the Germans. Fools.

  He shook his head at the thought of chalk marks compared to German panzers and machine guns. Hitler must be laughing his head o
ff. Didn’t people realize that might triumphed over right in the real world? He and his brothers had learned that early on. There was nothing like having the living daylights beaten out of you day in, day out, to teach you how to survive. What didn’t kill you made you stronger – that was what one of his brothers had told him after a particularly vicious hammering by his da.

  He came out of his thoughts to realize that the planes had gone and Cora and Jed were leaving too by the sound of it. He watched from his hiding place as the two of them walked off in the direction of Stone Farm, hand in hand. After the first time of being evacuated, he had prayed and prayed they’d be sent away again once he was back home. He didn’t mind where he ended up, he’d told God, as long as Cora was with him. It could be the worst place, the worst hovel, because anywhere was better than where he was. Now a saying of his old teacher in Sunderland came back to him as Jed and Cora disappeared from view down the country lane.

  She had been a strict old spinster, had Miss Lindsay, but nice enough at the bottom of her. Any time a bairn had started a sentence with ‘I wish’, she had stopped them, saying, ‘Be careful what you wish for because it just might come true.’ Well, he had wished, hadn’t he, and it had come true. They had left Sunderland again and Cora was here too, but he’d got a darn sight more than he had asked for. Miss Lindsay had been right. But this wasn’t the end of the story, not by a long chalk.

  He normally followed Cora and Jed back to Stone Farm to watch their leave-taking, but this afternoon it was beyond him. He came out of the hedgerow and looked down the lane, his shoulders hunched. A mist had lingered in the fields that morning, rolling across the newly ploughed earth that broke the harvest stubble and bringing a chill to the air. And he had been glad. It had meant the summer was drawing to a close and school would begin again. He would have Cora to himself now that Jed had left and he could sit with her at lunchtimes and walk home with her when their lessons were done. He had told himself she would soon lose interest in Jed and it wasn’t as if they had actually kissed or anything, but now . . .

  He stood for a moment more and then straightened, his mouth a thin line and his eyes narrowed. Now he would have to change tack a little. He would start being civil, even friendly, to Jed. Not immediately – he’d go about it bit by bit, a thawing if you like so Jed wasn’t suspicious, and he’d hold his tongue about Jed when he was with Cora. If she mentioned him, he’d be nonchalant, interested but not too interested. He could do that, he was clever enough to fool them all. And he’d watch for an opportunity to take care of Jed for good. It could be a while and he would need to use all his wits, but he could bide his time if he had to. It made sense.

  He began to walk towards Appletree Farm, slowly at first and then faster, with more purpose. This latest was a hiccup in his plans for the future, but that’s all it was. That was all he would allow it to be.

  Cora returned to the farm in time for milking. The three hours after Sunday lunch that Mrs Burns allowed them to have to themselves was on the understanding that it was work as usual at six o’clock. Cora had insisted Anna and Susan were kept with them; she didn’t think Farmer Burns would attack the little ones but she couldn’t be sure so she was playing safe. He was a devil, and how could you fathom what a devil might do? Jed had agreed. As they had parted at their trysting place, he’d said urgently, ‘Be careful every minute you’re there, won’t you, all of you. And if he tries anything, get your sisters, Maud too, and come to our farm.’

  She knew he meant well and her voice had been soft when she’d said, ‘I don’t think your parents would appreciate the five of us turning up on the doorstep and I couldn’t drag them into this anyway. The police are on Farmer Burns’s side – your parents would get into trouble if they kept us and they might not believe me anyway.’

  ‘Of course they’d believe you.’ She had sworn him to secrecy, and now he added, ‘I wish you’d let me tell them what’s gone on.’

  ‘Tell what? That Enid’s going to have a baby but she won’t name the father? And Maud told the police she thinks it might have been a tramp who was around in the spring? Maud’s so scared she’d still say that to anyone else but me. But I will be careful, I promise.’

  They hadn’t kissed again after that first time, but he had taken her hand and pressed it to his heart, the look on his face saying more than any words could have expressed.

  Cora thought of this as she joined the others. Mrs Burns and Maria and Maud were already at their milking stools, and Anna and Susan were standing some distance away in front of the big trough used for cleaning the churns and buckets, scrubbing at some cans and pails. They flashed her quick smiles as she sat down, Mrs Burns glancing up briefly to say, ‘You’re late.’

  ‘No, it’s just six o’clock.’

  Muttering something about ‘gallivanting’, the farmer’s wife continued milking her cow, one of the few short-tempered ones who took pleasure in using her tail like a whip. Cora hoped Primrose was in a bad mood this evening.

  Once the milking was over the five of them went to the hen house and settled the birds down for the night. Cora wasn’t sure how much Anna and Susan had understood about the happenings at the farm and Enid’s departure, but they had accepted her stipulation that at least one of the older girls be with them at all times without argument.

  Once back in the kitchen they finished the supper of bread and jam washed down with milk that Mrs Burns had ready for them, and climbed the stairs to their attic room before Farmer Burns came in from the fields. Maud now slept in the slightly larger bed with Anna and Susan, and Cora and Maria shared the other one. It was a squash for them all but no one complained, and since the evening after Enid had been taken away in the morning, Cora and Maria dragged the chest of drawers in front of the door before they got ready for bed.

  The room was stiflingly hot but with the chest of drawers in place at least Cora felt she could sleep with some degree of safety. There was no doubt that since the inspector and sergeant had questioned them all and left, Farmer Burns was feeling invincible. Far from being deflated as Cora had half-expected, she and the others had found him watching them at various times, the expression on his face curdling her stomach. If he had noticed the new arrangements that Cora had insisted upon he had made no comment to the girls, but the night before, when the others had drifted off to sleep and she was still awake, Cora was sure she had heard footsteps on the landing and the door of the room Enid and Maud had occupied being opened. She’d lain as stiff as a board for what had seemed like hours but had heard nothing more, and eventually had fallen into a doze that had remained fitful till morning.

  It was an hour later and Cora still hadn’t fallen asleep, her ears straining for any sound outside the room. The old farmhouse was full of creaks and groans as it settled down for the night, and every faint noise brought her ears straining. She wasn’t aware that Maria was awake too – her sister had kept as still as she had – until Maria’s voice came very soft as she whispered, ‘I’m scared.’

  Cora didn’t pretend she didn’t know what about. Turning on her side to face Maria, she murmured, ‘Well, don’t let him see it, all right? That’s what he wants, for people to be frightened of him.’

  ‘Aren’t you scared?’

  ‘No, I’m not. He’s just a bully, and you know what Da always used to say about bullies. At heart they’re lily-livered cowards and you have to stand up to them.’

  Their conversation continued – Maria pouring out her fears and Cora trying to reassure her – until they heard heavy footsteps on the landing outside the room. They lay still, frozen in terror, and then Cora heard him walk away, the floorboards creaking, and down the narrow staircase, and she prayed with all her might he would lose his footing and fall and break his neck.

  Even as she comforted Maria, telling her sister he wouldn’t come back and that she was safe, Cora wondered how long it would be before the confrontation came. And it would come. What she’d read in Farmer Burns’s face was proof of that
. So she had to do something, something that would convince him there were no easy pickings here. It was different from when he’d started on poor Enid; there were five of them now and they’d fight him tooth and nail.

  Long after Maria had gone to sleep, snuggled tightly into her arms despite the heat, Cora lay wide awake, thinking and planning. Attack was the best form of defence. She’d read that somewhere. It might even have been Churchill who said it. Things would be easier on a day-today basis from tomorrow when they were back at school, but there were still the evenings and weekends to contend with. The last few days she’d felt as though they were being stalked by a predator. That was the only way she could describe it to herself, and she knew Maria and Maud felt the same. Farmer Burns wanted them to be frightened of him, he enjoyed it, and so, however she felt inside, she had to square up to him. The thought brought her heart pounding in her throat so hard she put a hand on her chest. It was the only way.

  Bernard Burns walked into the stables, humming to himself. Seth and Polly, the two great plough horses, were in their roomy stalls munching on the mash he’d prepared, a mixture of chaff, beans, oats and different types of clover, with a generous amount of molasses added to it. He always made the mash himself and wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it, using the hand-turned chaff cutter that had been his father and grandfather’s before him.

  He was proud of the stables. His ancestors had known all about animals requiring good ventilation and the stables were warm and airy in the winter and cool and airy in the summer, as well as being high – sixteen feet to the eaves – which gave plenty of room for the dust to get above the horses. The stables had their own yard which could give the animals more freedom, and Seth and Polly shared their home with Sadie, Farmer Burns’s smaller horse used for driving and riding, unlike the big workhorses of the fields.