by Alan Tansley
‘Yes, but you didn’t state your intentions. If you had, we could have thrashed it out on our own and not in front of your family.’
‘Oh, my family is it now? George, can you manage the livestock for six months?’ asked Timothy, now looking angry.
‘Well… yes.’
‘Right then, I will wire the army office tomorrow. I’ll ask to do a six month stint and see what they say.’
Now seething with temper, Penelope quickly spun around before she marched into the kitchen with Florence, glaring at Timothy. George glanced at Timothy, who sighed while leaning on the table. His brother looked disappointed, as well as angry. George said, ‘Look, brother, you don’t have to do this. I know money in the bank was never to be touched so it wouldn’t be wasted, but surely in an emergency like this it could be used?’
Timothy lowered his voice, saying, ‘It isn’t that, George. I’m forty-five next birthday, and I do need a break. Not from the farm but, well… you know. Things aren’t going well between us. In fact, things are bloody ridiculous at the moment.’ He then quickly turned when Florence came back.
When the children had finished dinner, they sat on the floor under the window to continue building a jigsaw puzzle. Florence sat with them while Penelope returned for the dishes, and without batting an eyelid, she collected them, spun around, and returned into the kitchen. ‘Oh this is bloody stupid,’ moaned George, standing up.
‘Sorry, brother,’ said Timothy, and sighed, knowing he had created a bad atmosphere.
George and Florence returned home with Joseph, leaving a distinctly frosty atmosphere in the house behind them. It remained that way for the rest of the evening. In fact, three days later, as their relationship hadn’t improved at all, Timothy sent a telegram to the army offices, stating that he would enlist for a six-month period to train junior officers. However, when he returned home, Mrs Webster watched him, thinking, ‘Here he goes again.’ She didn’t know that broadcasters on the radio frequently waited for news from London about the impending war, and were constantly waiting for an update from the recently formed war cabinet.
Penelope refused to speak to Timothy anymore, and the atmosphere in the house became unbearable, but he persevered with his work around the farm. When she did speak, trying to find out his intentions, he always just told her about the task he was planning to carry out next on the farm, thinking that if her derogatory remarks continued, he would retort that he was only enlisting to get away from her. However, from that night on, and for the first time, they slept in separate beds until he departed.
Laura began to get fed with their arguments, but she didn’t take sides; she was merely saddened by the atmosphere. Her school work came first, and she was doing quite well; in fact, sometimes she was glad to be there just to be away from the tense situation at home.
Helen’s duties were to help with domestic work in both houses, but she also ended up taking the children to school. She had a feeling that she might be pregnant herself, and it began to worry her, as she knew that it could cost them both their jobs. Terrance always assured her that pregnancy hadn’t been a condition when they were hired, so they would carry on as until it drew close to the time when she needed rest, then inform Timothy. Terrance remained unaware of the Cotton family turmoil.
Early one Sunday morning, Timothy left by rail to re-enlist in the army. Penelope arranged a meeting of the family for that lunchtime. She waited politely until everyone had finished eating, and then announced that she was taking James and moving back home. ‘So here isn’t your home now?’ asked George, frowning.
‘I’m sorry, but it isn’t any more, because I believe my marriage with Timothy is now over.’
Suddenly the door burst open, and Terrance barged in, shouting, ‘Please come quick, Helen has collapsed.’
George quickly arranged with Penelope to look after the children, and doing his best to keep up, followed Terrance to the cottage with Florence behind him, clutching her skirts as she ran. When they got there, they found Helen collapsed on the floor, unconscious, with masses of blood around her. As if knowing what had happened, Florence tried to think of someone with medical training who lived in the village, realising that Helen was in desperate need of urgent attention.
Before anyone with any experience could attend to Helen, it was much too late. She had haemorrhaged, lost the baby, and before she could be attended to, had died from the loss of blood. Even though the family hadn’t worked there long, it was a great shock for everyone seeing Terrance so distraught, but Penelope, George and Florence gave him what help they could, including with the burial costs.
Three days later, it was again a sad time for the family as they attended another funeral. There was a crowd of villagers looking on, and George sensed bad feelings from them. This time, he time didn’t question it. Everything had seemed to be getting back to normal, and they had built up goodwill trade with the villagers through the shop, but now there seemed to be no reaction or emotion from them; none of the villagers even said a courteous ‘good afternoon.’ Work at the farm began piling up, but this time George just plodded on. He didn’t mind Terrance taking bereavement leave, knowing full well what he had gone through. However, three weeks after Helen’s funeral, George was much relieved when, early one Wednesday morning, Terrance turned up for work, taking him by surprise.
They listened to the wireless continuously during this time, and three weeks later, there was more bad news as war was declared on Germany. Timothy returned home for a weekend break and helped George as much as he could, but informed him that it didn’t look like his home life was going to improve much. Frowning at him, Timothy stated he was going back to London early on the Tuesday morning for a top brass meeting later that afternoon, and from there would see the lie of the land.
Timothy returned to London, but two days afterwards, there was an air raid and the Luftwaffe bombed the headquarters where he was attending a meeting. The building was completely flattened to the ground. It took time to clear and sift through the rubble, but when all the bodies were found and identified, their next of kin were notified straight away.
Because of Timothy’s rank, there was an official caller to the farm to inform Penelope of his death. She just stared into space as if uninterested, then closed the door in the soldier’s face, leaving him dumbfounded. She went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, so the soldier had no choice but to return to his car.
Terrance attended to the visitors, who informed him of the news, and he waved in acknowledgement as they left. He then turned to knock on the farm door. Two minutes later it opened, and with a vacant look in her eyes, Penelope said, ‘Yes?’
‘I know why they called, are you feeling alright?’
‘I’m fine, are you?’
‘Will you be alright to pick the children up from school?’
‘They have legs, they can walk,’ she replied, and quickly closed the door. Terence thought for a while, still not quite over his own wife’s death and shocked by this new encounter with grief. He started to look for George to inform him of what had happened.
Terrance found George where he was trimming back some hedges thirty minutes later. When Terrance had told him the news, George sat down and staring into space. ‘Well, I never,’ he said. ‘I always thought it would take more than a bomb to kill off our kid.’
Timothy’s body was eventually brought home by train, and three days later, like Henry, Timothy was given a full military funeral. The many villagers that attended noticed that he was in the same grave as Henry, rather than in a new plot with room for his wife, and tongues began to wag about the state of his marriage. While Penelope accompanied Laura out of the churchyard, she overheard one woman say, ‘It’s that bloody farm, I’m sure it’s cursed.’
‘How do you mean?’ she snapped, but the woman quickly turned away, and ignoring her, walked off.
Over the following months, Penelope began to get bored, and always had the radio on at full blast, even though
she had the occasional company of George and Florence. One late afternoon, Terrance dared to call for a drink of water to get to know Penelope better. Unfortunately, there was no response, as Penelope had decided to have a drink of brandy. The alcohol went straight to her head as she sat reflecting on her past. She decided it was now time to arrange her future so that it could be much better than at present. A knock on the door startled her. She carefully walked over and opened it, and then stared at Terrance, who sheepishly asked if she had any spare milk. ‘A likely story,’ she spluttered, then laughed heartily.
‘Oh, I am sorry. I’m very sorry for the intrusion,’ he exclaimed, and turned to walk away.
‘Where’re you going? Oh, come on in, Terrance, of course I have some.’
Terrance deliberately left the door open, stayed in the doorway and watched her wobble into the kitchen. Knowing that she had been drinking, he refrained from entering too far, as he could possibly end up in serious trouble. There was no way of avoiding it, however, and early the next morning, he was awoken when Laura entered the bedroom, shouting to her mum that she was late for school. She then instantly went quiet and froze.
A bleary-eyed Penelope stared at her, and felt the warmth by her side. It suddenly dawned on her what had happened, and she quickly sat up to order Laura out. She was at an age where she understood what was going on, and felt disappointed. She entered the kitchen and began to make her own breakfast.
Shortly after, her mum entered and clumsily began to give an excuse while Terrance dressed. Ten minutes later, and now dressed, he sheepishly entered the living room, but when he continued to the door, Penelope asked him to stop.
Reluctantly, Terrance halted, but when he turned around, she asked if he wanted anything to eat. Laura continued eating, but paused to look up and say, ‘It’s alright, Terrance. Mum has been very lonely; she’s been talking in her sleep.’
Terrance stared at Penelope, who had to smile. Eventually, he reached out and ruffled Laura’s hair, saying, ‘You bugger.’ Now smirking, he turned to Penelope and said ‘Thank you for your hospitality, and might I see you later on today?’
‘I suppose so, and that’s if you wish it.’
Penelope followed him outside, and as it was chilly, she shivered. Terrance smiled, and ventured, ‘I’m sorry if I wasn’t up to standard.’
‘No matter, but shall we leave it until the weekend now?’
‘Maybe, and I think that’s best,’ he replied, and smiled before set off.
That afternoon, Penelope sat at the table drinking tea and again considered her and Laura’s future. In the end, she decided that it would be best if they moved back to the south as there would be better opportunities for an education for Laura—as usual, she wanted the best for her. Through her marriage, however, she had a stake in the farm, so she wasn’t sure what would be the best way to proceed. Professional advice was the only answer, so after drinking up, she decided to write to her lawyers and consult with them.
Over the next few days, Florence was in charge, and the children returned to school as normal. George tended the animals while Terrance worked the land, and so far they were keeping pace. Both knew that, in time, they would need some extra help, and while they took a break, they discussed the various problems. Terrance suggested that they keep calves to rear them as stores.
‘Well, alright then. We have done that before, but market prices vary so much.’
‘So keep them longer. Then put them out to grass.’
‘I suppose so. We’ve always relied on pigs for extra money and our barley for brewing, but I suppose it’s time we broadened our horizons.’
A smiling Penelope walked towards them, asking, ‘Hello you two, fancy some tea?’
‘That would be very nice,’ said George, smiling at her.
From that day on, Penelope and Terrance became an item, even after a serious debate about their age difference, with Terrance being twelve years her junior. Luckily, Laura helped matters by accepting him as a stand-in father, often asking him to help with her homework.
George and Florence discussed the new romance, but in the end decided to keep out of it. They knew that they could do nothing about it anyway, as it was nothing to do with them, but anticipating future events, George decided to travel to Sheffield on the following Wednesday, making the excuse he had to visit their lawyers. In truth, it was to make sure the farm remained in the Cotton family, meaning that it would be left to his son, Joseph.
Over the coming month, letters from Penelope’s lawyers began to be left unread, especially when they advised her to ask for a pay-off from the Cotton family before returning to the Midlands. Moving had gradually become the furthest thing on her mind, especially when Terrance moved into their house on a permanent basis. Because of their age difference, Penelope and Terrance embarrassingly consulted George and Florence first. They invited them to dinner one Wednesday night; the food was perfect, but the atmosphere and timing were wrong. George and Florence were desperately trying for another child and quickly dismissed the subject to go home early.
In and around the village, it didn’t seem that the country was at war at all, with all of the locals acting the same as they did in the First World War. All everyone in the countryside was concerned with was their little bit of world and nothing else. Occasionally, everyone would hear the air-raid siren and dash into a specially constructed shelter in the town centre, but really nothing devastating ever happened in the vicinity.
The congregation that regularly visited church every Sunday also began to decline, and so did the local gossip. However, the tongues began to wag again when they found out that Penelope was pregnant. Because of her age, most argued against it and expressed their disgust. The vitriol was doubled when they found out that Florence was in the same condition.
Very quickly, another advert was designed and posted on the usual trees in the lane. It asked for a full-time employee with his wife to assist on the farm, and two weeks later, the positions were filled.
Brian Turnbull, a local lad, and his wife filled the position, but they had to cancel very quickly when he was conscripted into the navy. Feeling disappointed but undeterred, and after a family discussion, George re-advertised, but this time for two part time workers, hoping for anyone able and fit who could help them in any way, even if they were elderly.
Three weeks later, he had to smirk when they had applicants, but while he conducted the interviews, he often found himself smiling, then frowning, when he realised that some were unacceptable.
The wireless regularly broadcasted news about the war. One night, over dinner, Penelope asked Terrance why he had not been conscripted into any of the armed forces.
‘When I left school, I started work in the mines. They sent for me, but I had my medical and they said I had a heart murmur.’
Staring at him, she gasped, ‘So was it serious?’
‘No, but they discharged me and told me to go work on the land or back in the mines.’
‘Surely that’s about the same, if not harder work?’
‘They must think not.’
Now five months pregnant and struggling to get comfortable, Penelope leant on a cushion, asking, ‘Does it hinder you in any way?’
‘Well, to be honest, it hasn’t so far,’ he replied, smirking as he stared at her belly.
‘Don’t be silly now. I mean, so if I asked you to run into the village for the midwife, could you?’
‘Oh yes, and I would continue into Sheffield if you asked me nicely.’
‘Oh, bugger off, Terrence.’
The dates of birth given to Florence and Penelope were within days of each other, and quite often they consulted each other, joking about which of them was having the most pains. Unwittingly, their shared experience began to draw the Cotton family together again, and even George thought it strange, hearing laughter once again
One night, when Terrance and George were drinking brandy and looking very serious while planning work, suddenly, out came
paper and pencils. ‘Just look at them, it’s like being back at school,’ joked Penelope, and grinned.
‘I bet both have been at the kids’ homework again,’ said Florence, laughing, but when the men seemed preoccupied, she asked, ‘What name are you going to call your child? Have you decided yet?’
‘Well now, he says if it’s a boy, Robert, and if a girl, he says Edwina,’ and Penelope pulled a face as if she didn’t agree with either.
‘We are arguing about the same thing. If it’s a boy, it will be called Edward, and if a girl, it will be called Bryony. But where in this world he has got that name, from I do not know,’ replied Florence, and laughed, holding her stomach.
Chapter 37
At this time, nearly every commodity in the country was rationed, including food, which had been in very short supply to start with. However, one thing that amused George was that, in dribs and drabs, the villagers began to call at both farms and would pay anything for food that wasn’t available anywhere else. The government inspector began to call regularly again, assessing their livestock for butchering, but being crafty, George kept a small herd of bullocks and piglets out of sight, penned near the wood.
The village was now a thriving mining town of four thousand people, and had even had extensions built on its town hall. It now had an extensive library, community hall and separate playing fields. Although it still lacked a proper town centre, it did have a town square, but nothing much went on there, except when the air-raid shelters, recently made compulsory, were built. Even then, they were rarely used. Coal hewn from the mines was still being transported daily by rail into Sheffield, now mainly to help produce steel for the production of munitions, armaments or other types of metals, and then the residue was transported elsewhere to produce tar or coke.
In many big towns or cities, everything revolved around the war, but in the countryside, things were totally different. Most villagers had no idea about the dangers of bombing, and never even heard the sound of a bomb going off. That changed quickly, as three stray incendiary bombs hit the area on one exceptionally warm Friday night. There was no loss of life, luckily, and the only damage done was scorched fields and hedges, but they left large craters and an even larger impression on the villagers, finally exposed to the war itself.
