The Victory Garden: A Novel

by Rhys Bowen

  “Stone the crows,” Robbie said. “This is more food than I’ve seen since I left home. And fish and chips is quite a novelty for me. You don’t find fish where I come from.”

  “It’s a novelty for me, too,” Emily said as she popped a chip into her mouth.

  “What do you mean? You live here. You can eat it all the time.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I had it. On holiday once in Cornwall when I was quite small, I remember. It’s not the sort of food my mother thinks suitable. Working-class fare, you know.”

  He chuckled. “Oh right. Not like the salmon mouse.”

  “It’s mousse, as you very well know!” She slapped his hand, laughing.

  His eyes held hers, and she felt a shiver at the way he was looking at her.

  “So tell me,” he said, “what did you do with yourself all that time stuck at home?”

  “Nearly went mad,” she replied. “Actually, I came home from school when we got the news that Freddie had been killed, so we were in full mourning for six months. Black dresses, no callers, no music, nothing. It was silly, really. Freddie would have found it silly. As if any amount of mourning could bring him back.”

  “And then?”

  “It took me a long while to get over his death—longer than I would have thought. I think I must have been in a state of shock, or depression, I suppose. None of the things I’d grown up to expect would happen after school—balls and parties and meeting young men.”

  “So you didn’t meet any blokes before me?”

  Emily blushed. “There was one young man. He was one of Freddie’s friends from Oxford and came to be a clerk for my father. He was rather handsome. He looked a little like you, actually. He came to stay a couple of times.”

  “What was his name?”

  “His name?” She laughed. “Sebastian. A frightfully upper-class name.”

  “So he was one of your lot? Good family and all that? Your mother must have encouraged that one.”

  Emily laughed, remembering. “Oh yes. She did. I was quite smitten, and I think he quite liked me, even though I was much younger. But it never went anywhere. He got his call-up papers, and shortly afterwards, we got the news that he’d been killed in action. I was just beginning to get over Freddie’s death. This was the final straw, you know. And after he died, I decided I was not going to feel anything for anyone again because I’d only lose them.” She looked away, staring out of the window. A fishing boat with red sails was leaving the harbour. The failing sunlight made those sails glow like blood. They sat in silence. Then she said, “After that, there didn’t seem much point in anything.” She gave a long sigh. “I wanted to find work, to keep busy and do something useful, but my mother was terrified of losing me, so they wouldn’t let me out of their sight.”

  “Have they come to terms with your working in the fields?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “They tried to remove me. It was horrible, Robbie. An awful scene in front of everyone. And my father said if I chose to disobey them, I need not bother to come back home ever.”

  “My word,” he said. “That’s harsh talk. But I bet it was spoken in the heat of the moment. He didn’t mean it.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe. He does tend to explode in anger these days. The way I feel right now, I don’t want to go back to them. I don’t want my life to be dictated by other people.”

  “So you’re not going to be under your husband’s thumb?” he asked, his tone lighter now.

  “Certainly not!” she replied.

  There was a pause while each of them considered where this conversation might lead and the implications of it.

  “So what picture is playing at the cinema?” Emily asked.

  “We have a choice. There is Tarzan of the Apes at the Gaumont and Salomé at the Regal.”

  “Oh, I think Tarzan of the Apes, don’t you?” she said. “Salomé would be rather too intense, and I don’t want to see John the Baptist’s head being cut off.”

  “Rightio,” he agreed. “Although I was looking forward to that dance of the seven veils.”

  Her eyes challenged his. “All the more reason to see Tarzan,” she said.

  He laughed.

  They managed to finish every morsel on their plates and followed it with a jam roly-poly and custard. Feeling horribly replete, they set off again, hand in hand. The world was now bathed in pink twilight. Swallows darted past them, seagulls swooped overhead, crying plaintively, and from the estuary beyond came the mournful hoot of a tug-boat. Emily sighed with contentment. I must remember every detail of this evening, she thought.

  They paid to enter the cinema and Robbie led her up to the balcony and then to the back row. “I have to confess my evil intent,” he whispered as they took their seats. “It doesn’t really matter what film is showing. I wanted the chance to put my arm around you in the dark, and kiss you properly with nobody to see us. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” She gave him a little smile. “Who knows when we’ll have the chance to do this again?”

  The theatre lights went down and the organ began to play. Advertisements were shown, and then several cartoons and a newsreel. They were hardly aware of the cartoons, but when the newsreel started, the music became sombre and military. This made them stop and look up to see the words on the screen: “German Offensive on the Marne.”

  “The Germans, under Ludendorff, have launched a new offensive on the Marne.”

  “It’s a good thing I’m going back. I’m needed,” Robbie said. “They don’t have enough planes or pilots.”

  “But I thought we were finally winning,” Emily said. “I thought victory was in sight.”

  “I think this is a last desperate attempt by the Germans to slow the inevitable, cause as much harm as possible before they have to surrender,” Robbie said. “They must realize their cause is hopeless.”

  “Shhh! Quiet,” came a voice from the seats in front of them.

  Robbie looked at Emily and they grinned. He slipped his arm around her again and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt wonderful, even though the brass pips on his epaulette dug into her. She looked up at him, and he started kissing her.

  “A rather silly film, don’t you think?” he asked as they walked home, his arm around her shoulder. “Swinging through the jungle and saying, ‘Me Tarzan, you Jane’?”

  “I thought he looked rather good in a loincloth,” Emily replied.

  “I didn’t realize you had eyes for other men.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  “There’s a lot you still don’t know about me,” she replied. “I might not be the nice, respectable girl you like at all. I might have dark and secret thoughts. I might have a terrible temper. We know so little about each other, Robbie. We’ve only seen the good sides of each other.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I only know that you’re the girl for me. I knew it the moment I spotted you peeking around the door of that hospital room.”

  They reached the guest house front steps. “I’ll say goodnight then,” he said. “I better not kiss you. That old woman is probably watching through the net curtains. But I’ll come for you in the morning, after breakfast, all right? And we can have the whole day together.”

  “What shall we do?” she asked. “Do you have anything special in mind? A picnic?”

  “Better than that,” he said. “One of the doctors at the hospital has become quite a mate. He’s got a boat, and he’s offered to take us out for the day. I thought that would be a different sort of thing to do, seeing as the only boat I’ve ever been on was a bloomin’ great troop ship.” He paused, looking down at her. “That is all right with you, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know if I get seasick,” Emily said. “I’ve never tried.”

  “Oh, we’re not going out to sea,” he said. “Just cruising up the river, I think.”

  “In which case, it’s a lovely idea.”

  “Se
e you in the morning then, my darling,” he said. “Sweet dreams.”

  He gave her a civilized peck on the cheek. Then he opened the front door for her and blew her a kiss as he closed it behind her. Emily stood in the front hall, smiling.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  In the morning, Emily came down to the smell of bacon frying.

  “Good heavens!” she exclaimed as the landlady brought in a plate of bacon, eggs and fried bread. “Where did you manage to find bacon?”

  “Ah, I’ve got a nephew who owns a farm.” The old lady smiled. “He sometimes manages to find a bit of bacon that’s not going to the government. And my sister keeps chickens.”

  Emily ate with delight. She had just finished when Robbie arrived. “Was that bacon I smelled?” he asked.

  “It was. Bacon, eggs and fried bread. Heavenly.”

  “And all I had was lumpy porridge,” he said. “Are you ready? The weather looks nice and fine for our outing.”

  It does, Emily thought. Maybe too fine. Not a cloud in the sky. “Let’s hope it stays that way,” she said. “The local people here would say, ‘Fine before seven, rain by eleven.’ Do you think I should take my mackintosh, just in case?”

  “The boat has a cabin, so I’m told. Let’s take a risk, shall we?” He took her hand again. It felt more natural this time. She glanced at him and gave a happy little smile.

  They reached the harbour and saw a tall grey-haired man waving at them. Robbie waved back, and the man came towards them. “I’ve brought her to the steps,” he said. “She’s all ready to go.”

  Emily looked down at a teak motor launch. It had an outdoor seating area and then two steps down into a little cabin.

  “Very nice,” she said.

  “Emily, this is Doctor Dawson,” Robbie said. “Doctor, this is the young lady I’ve been telling you about.”

  “The land girl, right?” The doctor smiled at her.

  “At this moment, yes.”

  “And how are you finding that? Hard work?”

  “Very. But it’s quite good fun working with the other women.”

  “Good for you. I’m afraid we’re throwing your young man out of the hospital. He causes too much trouble, you know.” There was a twinkle in his eyes. “So go and enjoy yourselves today. Make the most of it. If you take her upstream, there’s a good pub on the Cornish side. The Three Bells. They make a decent pasty for lunch.”

  “You’re not coming with us?” Robbie asked.

  “Much as I’d like to, I have been called in for an emergency,” Dr Dawson said. “I’ll show you how to work the controls. It’s quite simple. You can fly a plane. You’ll pick it up in an instant.” He went ahead of them down the steps, then held out his hand to Emily. “Watch your step near the bottom. They are rather slippery with seaweed. There’s quite a tide here.” He took her bag, then helped her aboard. While he explained the controls to Robbie, Emily went into the cabin. It had a tiny galley with a sink and cupboards, a fold-out table and bench and at the back a bunk built into the bulkhead with just enough room above it to crawl in. It was well designed and delightfully cosy, Emily thought.

  “I wouldn’t take her out to sea if I were you,” she heard the doctor saying as she came back up the steps. “She’s quite seaworthy, but navigation with waves and current is a little more tricky.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Doc. I think we’ll be quite happy pottering around on the river,” Robbie replied.

  “I’ll leave you to it then,” the doctor said. “If you tie her up on one of these rings when you return, I’ll take her out to her mooring later.”

  He gave a friendly wave and climbed the steps, leaving Robbie and Emily alone.

  “Let’s give it a try then, shall we?” Robbie asked. He sounded a little nervous. He stood at the controls and started the motor. It made a satisfying pop-pop noise. “Untie the rope, please, Emily,” he said. Emily reached out and unwound the thick rope. Once it was inside the boat, Robbie pushed the throttle forwards and the boat moved away from the dock.

  “Piece of cake,” Robbie said, grinning at her.

  They moved out into the estuary at a sedate pace. “I’m tempted to see how fast she’ll go, but I suppose I’d better not,” Robbie said.

  “Don’t you dare. My hat will blow away,” Emily called back, putting her hand up to hold on to her wide-brimmed straw hat.

  They started out heading towards the sea, cruising past the battlements of the old town. Then, just when Emily was feeling a little nervous that they might actually be heading for the Channel, in spite of the doctor’s warnings, Robbie turned the boat at the breakwater and lighthouse. They crossed the estuary, admiring the view back to the town of Plymouth, perched on its headlands, and the Royal Navy ship sailing from the harbour. Then they made their way slowly up the river. There were houses on the banks, but soon they were replaced with fields and copses. Only the occasional cottage was nestled in a hollow, or here and there a magnificent home with manicured grounds coming down to the water and a sleek yacht moored at a jetty.

  Emily stood beside Robbie, enjoying the gentle breeze in her face.

  “I could take to this,” he said. “I wonder if we could put in a lake at home.”

  “Not with six inches of rain, you couldn’t,” she replied, laughing.

  “A pond then. We have stock ponds—billabongs, we call them. And it would have to be a very small boat.”

  They both laughed at this, then Robbie grew sombre again. “You take all this for granted, don’t you?” he said quietly. “These houses and green fields and gardens.”

  “I suppose I do,” she said. “They are all I’ve ever known.”

  She waited for him to say something else, but he was silent, staring ahead as he steered the boat. Then he said, “I want you to know that I’ll cherish these last two days together, Emmy. I’ll never forget one minute.”

  “Last two days for now, Robbie,” she corrected. “We’ll see each other again as soon as you come back from France.”

  “Yes,” he said slowly, “but then I’ll be heading back to Australia.”

  She wanted to say, “But I’ll come with you if you ask me,” but that sounded too forward. Perhaps he didn’t want to marry her.

  He cleared his throat. “That bloke you liked. The one who was killed?”

  “Sebastian?”

  He nodded. “Did you love him?”

  She gave a sad little laugh. “Robbie, I was eighteen. He was a handsome young man, probably six years older than me.”

  “So he didn’t ask you to wait for him?”

  “I had a schoolgirl crush on him. He did kiss me once, but I don’t think he saw me as anything more than Freddie’s young sister. But I was devastated when we heard he had been killed.”

  “It’s a bloody stupid war,” he said. “I watched all my mates getting mown down at Gallipoli. I was only spared because a great big bloke fell on top of me. I was drenched in his blood.”

  She touched his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not. Well, I’m sorry for that poor bloke. But I’m still alive.”

  He was silent again, and Emily felt a shiver of uneasiness. Robbie wanted to know if Sebastian had asked her to wait for him. Maybe he had also asked a girl back in Australia to wait for him. Maybe Emily was just a girl to cheer him up when he was so far from home. But as she sneaked a glance at him, she was sure that he did care about her. Maybe that was why he looked so troubled now. Either he was unsure which girl he really loved and wanted or he was trying to find a way to say that, after today, it would all be over between them.

  As they progressed upstream, the river narrowed. They passed under an impressive railway bridge.

  “The Royal Albert Bridge,” Emily said, trying to switch to less threatening topics. “We learned about it at school. Built by Brunel.”

  “Impressive.” He nodded.

  At last, they came to the pub the doctor had told them about. Thick woodland sloped steeply down to the r
iver, and the only building in sight was nestled at the water’s edge with a jetty beside it. The sign swinging outside said “The Three Bells.” It was white-painted, with trestle tables set on the small lawn, on which a child was playing with a dog. A motor car was navigating the steep road down to it, and people were seated at one of the tables, enjoying drinks on a fine day. Robbie cut the motor and they managed to navigate to the jetty. He clambered out and they tied up.

  He has taken to it easily, Emily thought as he held out his hand and helped her out. She admired the grace of his movement. His wounds were indeed healed and he was ready to go back to his aeroplane. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She would not think about it today. Today, they were having a lovely time, and it was as if the war were far, far away.

  They took their seats at a bench along the wall.

  “What’s that we have to order?” Robbie asked.

  “Cornish pasties. They’re very good, and we are in Cornwall now.”

  Robbie shook his head. “It’s amazing how quickly you go from one county to the next in England. In Australia, we’d be travelling all day. Okay, so pasties it is, and a beer to go with it?”

  Emily hesitated about drinking beer. “I’ve never tried it,” she said. “At least, no more than a sip of my father’s. I didn’t like the taste.”

  “Maybe you should stick to cider then,” Robbie said. “Come to that, I’d better stick to cider, too. I haven’t had a beer since I was first in hospital. It might go to my head.”

  He came out with a tray holding the pasties and two big glass mugs.

  “That’s a lot of cider,” Emily said warily.

  “It’s a hot day. We’re both thirsty.” He put the cider down beside her. They ate the pasties with appreciation. The pastry crust was crisp and flaky, and inside was a mixture of warm vegetables and meat. The cider was sweet and fizzy and went down easily.

  “I feel quite sleepy,” Emily said as they sat in the sun after the meal.

  “Me, too. That cider had quite a powerful effect,” Robbie replied. “Let’s get back in the boat and find a quiet little backwater where we can take a nap.”

  They cast off successfully and glided further upstream. Here, the river split into several side channels. They picked one that looked inviting. Trees came down to the banks, and there was no sign of human habitation.