Letters to Alice

by Rosie James

  ‘Oh for Gawd’s sake!’ Fay exclaimed. ‘You had a cook! How fraightfully posh! Shall we curtsy now – or later?’

  Alice burst out laughing. ‘Oh, Betty wasn’t our cook – she cooked for the family my mother and I worked for. We lived-in, you see, so we ate the same food as them.’

  ‘That all sounds very nice,’ Eve said, sitting up as well now, and not feeling too bad about the prospect of potato digging. ‘Where was the house…it was obviously very big,’ she said.

  Alice hesitated, not wanting to talk too much about that part of her life. Not because she didn’t have fond – very fond – memories of it, but because she didn’t want to share them. With anyone. They held so much of what had been dear to her, that exposing them for public scrutiny would lessen their value. Those memories were hers, to hug to herself and keep safe. For ever.

  ‘It was a big house,’ she admitted at last. ‘My mother and I were on the top floor, and from our bedroom window I could see the Clifton suspension bridge.’ Alice knew all about Isambard Kingdom Brunel and everything he’d designed…Sam had explained it to her.

  ‘Your employers must have been very rich, important people,’ Eve said, curious to know more. And taken off her guard for a second, Alice said –

  ‘Well – one day the king did come to tea,’ she began, and Fay sniggered.

  ‘Oh yeah – which king was that – Kong or Canute?’ She lit another cigarette from the stub of the first one and glanced over at Alice.

  ‘Neither,’ Alice said. ‘It was the old king – King George the fifth – our present king’s father.’

  The room went deadly quiet for a moment as this news sank in. Then Fay said slowly, ‘Bloody ’ell. You’re not kiddin’, are you?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Alice said cheerfully.

  By now, Eve’s eyes were shining like stars in the flickering candlelight. ‘Oh Alice…tell us about it…please!’ she exclaimed. Anything to do with royalty or the aristocracy was almost a religion for many people.

  But Alice had said enough. No more of her secrets would pass her lips that night.

  Despite the long, unusual day they’d all spent, sleep didn’t come easily to Alice, and she found herself tossing and turning on the unyielding mattress until she thought she was going mad. Fay and Eve had no such problem because by now they were both fast asleep, Fay snoring gently through her slightly parted lips.

  Alice sighed, and turned over again. They were living in such a weird world. There was no sound outside at all – which was strange considering they were on a farm with presumably hundreds of animals close by. Everything, every animal, every bird seemed to be at rest, and peaceful. Yet peace was not everywhere…far from it. The war in Europe and Japan was raging, things were going from bad to worse as Hitler’s armies gained ground, and at this very moment there were people being killed or injured. They’d all be very glad if their only problem was trying to get to sleep! Thinking that made Alice feel really bad, and she picked up her pillow – which was actually quite soft and comfy – and jammed it over her head, trying to shut out her thoughts.

  It must be at least two 0’clock by now, she thought desperately, because by the time they’d blown out their candles earlier it had been gone midnight. She took a long deep breath. Here she was …sharing a bedroom with two girls she’d never met before, billeted somewhere in the back of beyond with people she didn’t know…she could be a million miles away from the rest of the world. Like being on a distant, desert island. And that’s exactly how she was feeling…distant, remote, someone else entirely…

  After another half an hour, Alice gave up on the thought of sleep. She sat up and got out of bed, kneeling down and quietly sliding out her suitcase from underneath. She knew exactly where she’d put her torch – most people carried torches with them – and switching it on, she looked for her book which was in an inner side pocket. Just to close her hands around the cover gave her pleasure. And next to the book was her leather wallet which she also took out and held between her fingers. Then she climbed back into bed, and by the light of the torch began to read.

  Fay’s soft voice nearly made her drop the torch.

  ‘Wha’ ya’ readin’?’ she whispered, turning her head to look at Alice.

  ‘Oh sorry, Fay…I’ve woken you up,’ Alice whispered back, and Fay shrugged briefly.

  ‘Wha’ odds?’ she said. ‘I wasn’t really asleep anyway.’

  Alice half-smiled. Fay’s light snores had told another story. ‘Oh, this is my copy of Jane Eyre …Charlotte Brontë,’ Alice said quietly. ‘I’ve read it so many times I nearly know it by heart.’

  ‘Yeah, ’ Fay said at once. ‘I used to think Jane was like a wet weekend, putting up with Rochester’s mean moodiness all the time like that, even if he was her employer. I’d have given him a piece of my mind if that had been me…he was just another male big ’ed! But – it was tough luck, him marrying a mad woman, wasn’t it, and then going blind in the end.’ Fay thought about that for a second. ‘Yeah. Good yarn that, and at least Jane knew some happiness at last. Even if she did have to wait half a lifetime for it.’

  Alice wasn’t surprised that Fay had read the book. Beneath her brashness was an intelligent and thoughtful person. Alice had worked that out almost as soon as they’d met. And there hadn’t been any of her normal expletives as she’d spoken just then. She seemed to like talking about a mutual interest.

  Fay’s eyes dropped to the pile of letters which Alice had taken from the wallet and spread out on the quilt in front of her. ‘Those from your bloke?’ she asked bluntly. Fay didn’t believe in beating about the bush.

  Alice’s hand automatically covered the letters up…these were something else she knew by heart. They were so beautifully written, every word beautiful to her, despite the dates on the top of some of them going back many years. Then – ‘Um…yes…in a way…’ she stuttered. ‘I…we’ve…known each other a very long time, but I don’t think I can actually say he is my bloke,’ she said truthfully.

  ‘But you wish you could?’ Fay said, her tone surprisingly gentle.

  There was a long, long pause. ‘Yes, I wish I could,’ Alice said quietly.

  ‘So – what’s the problem?’ Fay’s query was direct, as usual. ‘Another woman in the way?’

  Another long pause. ‘Another woman – and a different…life,’ Alice said slowly.

  Fay half-sat up, leaning on her elbow. ‘And where do you live – you know – normally? With your parents?’

  Alice didn’t look across as she answered. ‘My parents are both dead,’ she said quietly. ‘So – I have digs in Totterdown with a lovely lady called Gloria. I can walk to work from there.’ She smiled. ‘Gloria insists on spoiling me.’

  For a few moments neither of them spoke, then Fay jerked her head in Eve’s direction. ‘D’you think our Evie’s got a boyfriend, or ever been kissed?’ she said quietly.

  Alice folded her letters carefully, and put them back in the wallet.

  ‘Don’t know. Perhaps she’ll tell us one day,’ she whispered, though Alice doubted whether Eve would ever give much away about herself. She was obviously the shy sort – unlike Fay, who was the direct opposite. Fay was probably a revelation to the girl whose life seemed to have revolved around her parents and the quiet mustiness of a music shop.

  Well, they were going to have plenty of time to get to know each other properly, Alice thought, though how long, nobody really knew. No one had the slightest idea how long this war was going to last…

  They could still be working on this farm months…years…from now.

  And the start of day number one was only a couple of hours away…

  Chapter Three

  It was barely light and suddenly it sounded as if all hell had broken loose.

  Right beneath their window, the massive herd of cows was trudging towards the milking sheds, their hooves clumping along the sludgy path, their bellows competing with the barking of the sheepdog as it encouraged them to
get a move on. And Roger’s voice adding to the din with his persistent “come on there…ey-yah, ey-yah.”

  And above and beyond all that was the ear-splitting screech from the cockerel in the large chicken run nearby, and the sound of a tractor rumbling past at full throttle.

  It was 4.30.

  The three girls awoke almost simultaneously and sat up, staring at each other blearily.

  ‘Blimey,’ was the only word that Fay could manage.

  Just then there was a tap on the door and Mabel’s voice outside. ‘Hot water ’ere for you,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Your breakfast’ll be ready in an hour, so there’s plenty of time… ’Ope you all slept well, luvvers! Tis another lovely day!’

  With no one saying very much, they began to get ready, taking turns at the basin before getting dressed in their uniforms.

  Fay was the first to pull on her breeches and thrust her feet into her long woollen socks and brogues, before slipping on her shirt, leaving the three top buttons undone. Then, sitting on the edge of her bed, she began applying her make-up, and combing her hair, leaving it loose. She looked across at the others, who’d nearly finished getting ready, watched Eve still brushing out her thick curls, which was taking her a long time - well, there was a lot of it. Though Alice didn’t seem to have much difficulty with her dark browny-black glossy hair, which she was plaiting rapidly before pinning up out of the way. Fay studied her for a second.

  Alice had a soft, heart-shaped face, dominated by jewel-green eyes, her expression sometimes pensive and preoccupied, Fay thought. She seemed to wear little make-up – if any – though she had now begun to smooth on some cold cream. Fay shrugged inwardly. She was not going to change her ways just because they were out here, far away from everything. She’d always loved make-up – especially the bright red lipstick favoured by glamorous American stars in the pictures. She made a face to herself. They weren’t going to see any films in this God-forsaken part of the world – and no one knew how their time off was going to work out either…whether they’d be able to get a lift back to Bristol and see a bit of life…perhaps go to the Odeon, or the Gaumont. Even to think about it made Fay remember the smell of the plush seats as you went in, the soft carpet under your feet as you edged your way along the rows. The fug of cigarette smoke, the sense of anticipation as you waited for the programme to begin. The second feature, the B movie came first, often a cowboy one, then the Pathe News – and finally the big one. The one you’d really come to see. To inhabit, just for an hour or two, the glitz, the glamour, the amazing lifestyles of the American populace…

  Alice finished what she was doing and stood up. ‘Well, that’s me done,’ she said in a somewhat resigned tone. With such basic facilities, getting ready for the day didn’t take long. And after a moment’s thought she added, ‘Who’s going to be the first to have a hip bath? It’s not going to be very luxurious!’

  Fay shrugged. ‘I’ll volunteer to try it out,’ she said, ‘especially if Roger’ll offer to come and scrub me back!’

  Alice laughed, and glanced across at Eve who had been quietly getting ready. She looked rather pale and was saying very little. But she did look quite cute in her uniform, Alice thought. And the hat would suit her, perched on top of all those curls.

  ‘Are you feeling OK, Evie?’ she said, hoping that the new nickname would cheer the girl up. ‘Did you manage to get much sleep last night?’

  ‘I think so – eventually,’ Eve said, ‘I thought you two were well away before I’d even closed my eyes.’

  ‘Wrong,’ Alice said cheerfully. ‘It was the middle of the night before the sandman threw anything into my eyes…but, strangely, I don’t feel particularly bad this morning,’ she added. ‘In fact, I think I’m ready to pull up a few of those potatoes!’

  ‘And I’m ready for some breakfast,’ Fay said decisively. ‘Come on – let’s go down…does anyone smell bacon and eggs and black sausage and mushrooms…?’

  Eve gave her a watery smile, and said that a slice of toast and marmalade would be enough for her, after that huge supper last night.

  Mabel greeted them as they went into the kitchen. ‘Good, there y ’are,’ she said. ‘And don’t you all ever look lovely! Uniform suits you fine! Now then – the porridge is there in that pot on the range, just ’elp yerselves to as much as you want. And there’s plenty of milk to keep you going, straight from our own cows, so couldn’t be fresher.’ She brought a large white enamel jug over to the table and put it down. ‘And I expect you like sugar with yours, so there’s the bowl. Just ’elp yerselves.’

  ‘Oh…thank you, Mrs. Foulkes,’ Alice said, not catching Fay’s eye. So much for bacon and eggs!

  But Mabel hadn’t finished, putting a big crusty loaf, a knife, some butter and a pot of home-made jam onto the table. ‘There – you just ‘elp yerselves, won’t you. And Roger’ll be coming in soon to take you up the field.’ She stood with her hands on her hips for a few seconds, looking at them each in turn. ‘I ‘ope you’ll be ’appy with us here, luvvers,’ she said slowly. Having three women – three girls – on the farm instead of all men was going to be a nice change for Mabel. She’d been looking forward to it as soon as she’d known it was going to happen. ‘Now, I gotta go and finish getting they eggs in,’ she began, and Alice interrupted –

  ‘I’d love to help you with that sometimes, Mrs. Foulkes – if I’m not needed anywhere else, of course,’ she said eagerly. Alice had a picture-book view of putting her hands into warm straw and finding a lovely brown egg nestling beneath…

  ‘’Course you can, luvver – but s’mornin’ those ’taters d’come first I’m afraid!’

  As she turned to go, Fay said tentatively – ‘Um…how far are we from the village, Mrs. Foulkes?’ She wanted to say – how far were they from any kind of civilization at all. ‘And is there a bus service into Bristol…or into anywhere?’ she added hopefully.

  Mabel pursed her lips. ‘We used to get two buses a day, ’afore this war,’ she said, ‘but now all we get is a charabanc twice a week – Sundays and Wednesdays. The train sometimes stops at the Halt – but it’s only a branch line and I dunno the times. I ‘aven’t used the thing for yers.’

  ‘But I take it you have some shops…somewhere…?’ Fay said.

  ‘’Course!’ Mabel said at once. ‘The village is only a mile and a half away, though there’s only the one shop, really – but it’s big – an’ they sell a bit of everythin’! An’ the chemist is next door. Then a ’ course there’s our church by the green – next the war memorial and the school. And there’s the pub…the Wheatsheaf…and the bakery, next to the telephone box…mind, we get a bread delivery come in from one of the towns each mornin’ but, well, the little bakery everyone uses is not really a shop,’ Mabel went on, ‘see, the twins, Eileen and Esther, have run the place from their house for yers and yers. They got a big front room, see, and they sell everythin’ from the open window first thing each mornin’…and they never ever fail. ’Course, tis only bread and buns, though sometimes there’s somethin’ a bit more fancy.’ Mabel paused reflectively. ‘We’ve never got our bread from them, a’course, because I do all our bakin’ meself, like most others do.’ She folded her arms. ‘An’ there’s our WI hut where they have whist drives every Tuesday and Thursday evenin’s, and some Saturdays there might be a film showin’ as well… I know Rog goes up there if it’s summat he wants to see.’

  Fay had stopped listening. At least there was a pub!

  After Mabel had gone, the girls filled their bowls with the porridge then went over to the table and sat down. Eve stared down at hers and shuddered.

  ‘I don’t really eat porridge,’ she said, ‘and not this thick.’

  ‘Well – dilute it, Evie,’ Fay said, pushing the jug of milk across.

  ‘What – with raw milk?’ Eve said, shocked at the thought of swallowing anything that hadn’t been made bug-free. ‘I think it would make me sick!’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t,’ Alice said reassuringl
y. ‘The Foulkes family obviously drink nothing else., and they look fit enough to me.’

  ‘Yes…but it’s not the same for them,’ Eve said. ‘They’re used to it…they’ve obviously become immune to any infection, haven’t they…’

  Fay, who was thoroughly enjoying her porridge, put her spoon in and took another mouthful. ‘And that’s what’ll happen to us, Evie,’ she said. ‘We’ll get used to everything, and become strong and hearty Land Girls, living off the fat of the land!’ She scraped the bowl with her spoon and got up. ‘I’m having seconds!’

  Presently, they made their way outside and into the yard where Roger was waiting for them.

  ‘Morning,’ he said easily, grinning down at the girls, and once again not believing his luck. They were all so smashing- looking – even in their uniforms – and always so friendly…he’d been wondering who was going to turn up. Living out here and working on the farm as he had for most of his life, Roger didn’t meet many new people…certainly not new women…and the village girls, most of whom he’d been to school with, were hardly exciting company any more. And a lot of them had moved on, and out.

  Now all he had to do was to show these city types the ropes. And he was going to enjoy it.

  ‘You’ll be up the top today,’ he said as they fell into step beside him. ‘We didn’t manage to get up to the potato fields last night, did we?’ He glanced down. ‘It’s another pot boiler, so good job you’ve got those hats on!’

  After a good five or six minute hike, they came to the field. Roger pushed open the gate and went in and the girls followed him. And for a few seconds neither of them uttered a word as they stared around.