‘I’m not stripping off and washing out in the open. We might get peeping Toms. Or spiders in the wash basins. I hate spiders.’
‘And I’m going nowhere near those lats. That’s a stinking job.’
Lou cajoled and pleaded, persuaded and coaxed, explaining that everyone had to take their turn at each and every job. ‘That’s the only fair way.’ She finally sat everyone down and gave them all a good stiff talking to. This calmed tempers down considerably but relations continued to be scratchy. Her plan to lift spirits and give them all a break didn’t seem to be going at all according to plan.
Somehow they got through that first weekend and on Monday morning were introduced to their new ganger. An old man in a flat cap, muffler and waistcoat, he would have looked more at home at a city football match than standing knee deep in reeds with only a gang of Timber Girls for company. He was clearly even more unused to working with women than poor Alf, who was only slowly growing accustomed to the idea and quite relieved to be rid of them for a week or two.
‘Have you lot done owt like this afore?’ he asked, a plaintive note in his nasally voice.
‘No,’ they said, almost of one accord.
‘Then England is safe. Victory is ours.’
As the days passed, the work became a refuge for them all. It demanded their complete attention so that conversation became confined to the barest essentials.
The felled larch, destined to be telegraph poles, were brought down by chute from high in the oak woods which bordered the lake, each falling into the water with a satisfying splash. From here they were towed across by boat to the road on the opposite shore where the logs were then winched on to the back of the lorry and taken to the sawmill. Tess, for one, was relishing the prospect of driving a boat. ‘Make a nice change, and it’s another new challenge,’ she said brightly.
Rose objected, declaring it would make her seasick. She didn’t tell them she felt sick most of the time these days, and her stomach ached, due to the baby she assumed.
Nobody took her remark too seriously but simply laughed, as if she’d made a silly joke, but then nobody ever did take her seriously these days. They even seemed to think it amusing that Adam should change his mind about who he intended to marry. As if the very idea of anybody loving silly little Rose was utterly ridiculous.
Of course, she’d much prefer to have married Josh but since he wasn’t free, him being married already, beggars couldn’t be choosers, as they say. He hadn’t even written in ages, and nobody understood or even cared how hurt she was over his defection back to his clinging wife. They saved all their sympathy for Lou and her agony over a missing husband, or for pretty Grace with her long pale hair, classical good looks and lovely grey eyes. No wonder Adam had thought her the perfect wife; so fragile and winsome there were times when Rose almost hated her. She’d even noticed that German PoW, what was his name - Karl, watching her with covert but very real interest. But then she was a dark horse, was little Gracie. Who knew what went on in the secret recesses of her agile mind, or when nobody was looking. Everyone seemed to forget how well she could stand up for herself, and how determined she was to get her own way when it suited her.
Perhaps, Rose thought, she should make herself more noticeable, perhaps do something truly dreadful, then they might all start listening to her for a change. Something like trying to drown herself, for instance. That would make them all feel thoroughly guilty for ignoring her. Though perhaps death was a touch drastic. She was young; had a lot of living to do yet. But Rose did start to wonder how long one could hold one’s breath underwater. The notion of sinking beneath those sparkling, rippling waves became so strangely tempting, she found herself mesmerised by their beauty.
Their new ganger, known simply as Bill, directed them in the skills of rafting with a benevolent hand. He was a quiet man, if somewhat taciturn, but with far more patience over their blunders than Alf had ever exhibited.
As the timber came down the chute, Tess and Lena would wait in the motor boat while the others stood, thigh deep in water, ready to direct and position the logs. These were fastened together by means of a long chain, “dogs” or long pins hammered into the butt end of the trees, to join several logs together. A strong rope was then looped around the centre log of the raft and fixed to the stern of the boat which set out across the lake, pulling the raft of logs behind it.
It was precarious but exciting work, particularly when, as now, the logs were bobbing about and crashing into other. The girls had to take care not to skin their hands on the rough bark, or worse, get trapped between the poles while struggling to fix on the chains. But everyone was putting their utmost into the job, desperately trying to prove that the squad could still work well together. And it certainly made a welcome change to be out on the open water in the sunshine, instead of in the depths of a forest.
But would it lift everyone’s spirits and improve morale? Since there was little sign of that happening so far, Lou began to feel inadequate, as if she were failing them all in some way. As new forewoman she was the one responsible for the health and happiness of these girls, and she’d wept many a silent tear into her pillow in the dark of night, not only for Gordon, but also worrying over whether she could cope with her new responsibility. Their health and well being seemed to be entirely in her hands. Was she doing things right? When the girls came to her with their problems, could she supply the answers? This was the hardest job she’d ever done. Would they come out at the end of the two weeks recovered from the glums, or would they all have murdered each other by then?
Lou’s thoughts again turned to Gordon. She always thought of him as steaming across a beautiful blue sea, rather than in the thick of some unknown battle. Never one to dwell on gruesome details, she refused, absolutely to imagine his ship sunk or blown to smithereens. If she didn’t see it in her mind, then it couldn’t possibly have happened. So long as she kept believing in him, Lou knew that he would come back to her. One day.
‘It’s good fun, isn’t it?’ she called out, a determined brightness in her voice as she turned to address Rose standing close behind her in the water. At least she had been there, only a moment ago. ‘Rose?’ Lou flicked her glance all around. It took mere seconds to take in that she was nowhere in sight. Lena and Tess were in the boat; Gracie and Jeannie by the chute, herself and Rose were ... ‘Rose!’
Without pausing to consider the consequences of her action, Lou dived under water and began to search frantically about. It was frightening to swim in the green gloom beneath the logs. She felt trapped, as if her lungs were bursting and was finally forced to come up for air, though only for a second before again she dived. The others by this time had noted her alarm, and they too were in the water, searching, diving and swimming everywhere in a desperate bid to find their friend.
‘She’s here. I’ve got her,’ Tess called out, bursting from the depths in a spray of sparkling water to begin towing Rosie’s limp body to the sanctuary of the boat. She clung on to the edge of it with one hand while Lena and Gracie struck out strongly towards her, anxious to assist.
Lou wanted to ask what the hell had happened, had she hit her head, what on earth had caused her to fall under the logs but now wasn’t the time for interrogations. Rose was deathly pale, coughing up half the lake but at least alive.
Rose seemed to be none the worse for her ducking, though perhaps a touch more subdued. This wasn’t at all what Lou had had in mind when she’d thought to bring them all on this logging camp. She’d hoped it would lift spirits, not deepen their gloom. Cheer them all up, like a sort of busman’s holiday. At least caring for Rose gave everyone something else to think about instead of grumbling among themselves.
She was fussed over a good deal that evening; supplied with endless cups of hot cocoa, extra pillows and blankets throughout the night, checked hourly as the girls took it in turn to make sure that she hadn’t caught a chill or wasn’t about to sink into concussion. When she vomited, just before dawn, it was Gr
acie who mopped her face with freshly warmed water and lent her a clean night-dress.
‘It’s swallowing all that lake water,’ she consoled her. ‘You’ll feel better soon.’
Rose had half hoped to be relieved of her ‘problem’ as a result of the ‘accident’. Unfortunately, not a spot of blood had shown itself during the night. Confusingly, instead of being cast down by this, she felt secretly relieved, almost taking pride in the fact that her baby was safe and well. Had she really wanted to hurt it, or herself? She’d no idea. ‘I can’t think how it happened. I must have slipped and bumped my head.’ It was the only explanation she could offer, even to herself.
The incident proved to be a turning point. It seemed to make them all realise how much they depended upon each other, how they must all pull together to win through; and how fragile and short life was. As a result, over the following days the atmosphere lightened considerably. It was as if a weight had been lifted and a sense of togetherness reborn between them. Even the odd chorus of ‘Off to work we go’ could at times be heard, drifting across the glistening water.
The evenings too grew more lively. Lou would bring out a pack of cards and they’d play poker, pontoon, or something silly like Snap or Happy Families, shouting, laughing and being thoroughly noisy and loud, since there was no one within miles to hear.
‘I never knew you could get this merry on a mug of tea,’ Tess chuckled.
‘It’s the smoky flavour that does the trick,’ Gracie quipped. ‘Beats alcohol every time.’
Lou looked around at her dear friends with pride in her heart. It was all turning out to be fine. She should have had more faith in them, more faith in herself. Everything was going to be OK.
On the last evening they lit a camp fire and toasted their cheese sandwiches over the hot embers while they talked, as they had done right from the start. They shared the sense of independence wearing the Timber Corps uniform had given them; how they loved the job, and how intense life seemed because of the war. Friendships seemed to be far more important, to be cherished and enjoyed, for nobody knew quite how long they might last. Even the squad, they realised, could be split up and posted to different destinations at a moment’s notice.
‘At least I don’t have my parents hanging around, telling me what to do all the time,’ Gracie said. ‘Or blaming me when things go wrong.’
‘My brother was always good at picking fault,’ Rose admitted, half glancing over her shoulder as if she half expected him to emerge out of the shadows. There were nights when she woke in a cold sweat, when she still heard his shock and fury as she’d locked him in the cellar. That sound had haunted her for months.
‘Have you ever heard from him?’ Lou wanted to know but Rose only shook her head and said that she’d no wish to hear, thank you very much; that he was nothing but trouble.
‘Aren’t you going to invite him to the wedding?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, he can’t be all bad. Nobody is. He has his problems no doubt, like the rest of us, but most men are softies at heart.’
‘Not Eddie.’
Lou chuckled. ‘Even your Eddie will have his weak spot, if we could but find it. You really must invite him, then he can give you away.’
‘You talk as if the world is all sunshine and light, but it isn’t. There’s a great deal of nastiness in this world, and evil, in both men and women. I’ve certainly seen plenty in my short lifetime. I don’t want to talk about Eddie, not ever again, if you don’t mind.’
Lou shrugged. ‘What about Adam? Do you think he’s weak, or just a nice quiet man? He certainly allows Irma to rather rule the roost. It’ll take a strong woman to stand up to Irma. Question is, are you up to the task, girl?’
Rose gave a short laugh, a slight curl to her upper lip. ‘I’m quite certain that I am. I’ll stand no nonsense from that old besom. Look how well I handled Gracie here, sidelining her nicely, for all she thought she could have both men. Quite a charmer she is on the quiet, our Gracie.’
There was a sharp intake of breath, puzzled glances in Gracie’s direction, followed by a curious, drawn out silence.
‘Both men? What are you talking about?’
Rose broke the silence on a soft chuckle. ‘She hasn’t told you then about her prisoner of love? Her passion for a German?’
Gracie could feel her cheeks start to burn, her heart start a slow, hard beat in her chest. ‘Rose, I really don’t think we need go into all of that. Not just now.’
‘Why not? You encouraged Adam only as a cover for your real feelings. Isn’t that the truth of it? I know that you and Karl are having a secret love affair. I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s written all over his face whenever he looks at you. It’s written all over yours now. Besides, I’ve seen you talking to him in that intense way, and sneaking off into the bushes when you think no one is looking.’
Again everyone turned to look at Gracie in stunned disbelief, and she knew she was flushing bright crimson.
Lou said, ‘is this true? Are you having an affair with that PoW?’
Gracie looked into her friend’s shocked face and thought of Gordon, perhaps even now lying dead beneath the waves from an attack by a U-boat, the kind that Karl once served in. She said nothing for a whole thirty seconds, then she nodded. ‘It’s not our fault. We didn’t plan it. It just happened, right out of the blue. We can’t help it.’
‘But that’s terrible. A betrayal of all we stand for.’
‘I don’t see it that way. We just fell in love. Where’s the crime in that? Are you going to tell on us?’ She waited with trepidation for their response.
Nobody answered. In a way it would have been easier if they’d argued with her, saying that he was the enemy and she’d no right to love him. Then she could have defended Karl, told them how lovely he was, how sweet and kind, how he had only been doing his duty as they were; how he was the one man in the whole world she could spend her life with. But they said nothing, simply looked at her in varying degrees of shock and disapproval. Even Lou seemed determined to say no more, her mouth buttoned tight in an uncharacteristically condemning manner. At length Gracie could bear it no longer and with a little cry of distress, she stumbled to her feet and fled. When the others crawled into their sleeping bags later, nobody spoke a word and Gracie could do nothing but pretend to be asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nobody spoke to her the next morning either. Breakfast was made and eaten in an uneasy silence. Gracie detected some subdued murmurs between the other girls but no one, not a single person addressed her. All the way home in the lorry they chatted quietly among themselves. Gracie was ignored. It was almost as if she were not there, or as if it would contaminate them to speak to her. It was perfectly clear that they’d sent her to Coventry. They were treating her as if she were a traitor.
She attempted to console herself that perhaps it was because they believed she’d been leading Adam on, using him to cover up her indiscretion. Maybe that’s what had upset them. She decided to seek Adam’s help.
Gracie found him in the cow shed as she’d expected, and told him, quite bluntly, and without preamble what the problem was. ‘Normally I wouldn’t have said a word about this, because of the risks to Karl, and to myself, but the others know all about it now and they won’t say how they are going to react to the knowledge. They seem to be accusing me of leading you on, of using you as a cover for this illicit affair but that’s not true. I wouldn’t do that to you, Adam. You know that I never encouraged you in your fancy for me. And if it appeared as if I did, I’m sorry. I never meant that to happen. Will you please explain this to them? Will you? It would mean so much to me if you would. They might think less harshly of me.’
He stared at her, his eyes narrowed as he struggled to digest the full import of what she was saying. ‘You love Karl Meinhadt? A German prisoner-of-war?’
‘Yes.’
‘And he loves you?’
‘He does. You mustn’t say anything. Nobody must
know.’ She was filled suddenly with fear that she’d done the wrong thing by being so open with him.
‘And he was the reason you stayed to help on the farm?’
Gracie drew in a sharp breath. ‘That’s true but I never, ever, gave you the impression that I loved you. At least, if I did, I never meant to. I constantly refused your invitations to the cinema, your offers to go for a walk in an evening. Does that sound like someone who was deliberately using you?’
Adam seemed to be considering all of this with his usual deliberation and the fear inside her escalated. Was he going to agree with the girls’ assessment of the situation? Had she made a terrible mistake in confiding in him? Would he now go to the authorities and tell them her secret? Gracie felt her control start to wobble and she pressed a hand to her mouth.
He recognised her distress instantly and setting aside the feed bucket came towards her. ‘It’s all right, Gracie, I won’t tell. If you truly love this man you have my deepest sympathy. It isn’t going to be easy for either of you, and you’re right. You didn’t lead me on, not in any way. I was the one doing the pursuing, at my mother’s dictation.’ He smiled in a somewhat self-deprecating way and Gracie smiled too, even though there were tears rolling down her cheeks.
‘I did actually try very hard to love you, Adam. You’re such a nice chap, and it would have been...’
‘Much more sensible?’
‘Yes. Certainly safer.’ She gave a little hiccup of near hysterical laughter and again put her hands to her mouth. She felt as if she were balancing on the edge of a cliff and might, at any moment, fall off it.
Adam reached out, placed his great rough hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. ‘I didn’t just court you because Mam told me to. I did like you, Gracie, only not as much as I like Rose. You know that she’s the girl for me, and she loves me too. It’s because of how I feel about Rose that I can find it in my heart to feel sorry for you. Come on, chin up. The war won’t last forever.’
Gracie's Sin Page 29
