Peace Comes to Honeyfield

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Yes. But Father won’t do the enemy’s bidding, whatever they threaten. He’s a patriot first and foremost.’

  ‘I hope we all are.’

  ‘I doubt they’ll catch him, anyway. I’ve only lived with him a couple of years, but he’s cunning. Anyway, we’re wasting time arguing. I’m not going to be left behind, and that’s that.’

  Martin was still grinning when they reached the park.

  ‘Look after her,’ Patrick said as he got out of the van. ‘I’m leaving the engine running in case we need to get away quickly.’

  He was about to suggest Martin take over the driving seat, but Georgie slid across into it before he could speak.

  ‘Martin and I will look after one another.’ She patted the gun concealed on her lap now under her scarf.

  What a woman! he thought as he strode along to the back gate of the park. What an absolutely magnificent woman! Not a sign of fear.

  It was something of an anticlimax to find Dennis and Rosie waiting, as arranged. The three of them were back at the van within two or three minutes from him leaving it. The others crammed into the back and he got into the front, not protesting when Georgie drove them back to his friend’s workshop. He wanted to see how good a driver she was, and presumably she wanted to show him.

  It was no surprise that she proved to be very capable.

  He jumped out and opened the gates of the workshop’s backyard for her to drive the van in.

  When she got out of it, he gave her a mock salute and she inclined her head in response, understanding his hidden message of approval.

  The big car was parked inside the workshop and they got everyone into it quickly.

  Patrick thanked his friend and said to Georgie, ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll drive now.’

  Chad went to open the gates and shut them immediately they drove off.

  Patrick was grateful there was an Angus dash mirror installed so that he could see what was happening behind them. In his opinion, all official motor vehicles should have one of those. He made sure to glance into it at regular intervals.

  ‘There doesn’t seem to be any sign of pursuit,’ he said after a while. ‘How long does it take to get to Westcott House by road, Georgie?’

  ‘Three or four hours, depending on traffic and whether we break down or not. But I’ve been thinking, and I definitely don’t believe we should stay there for more than a day or so. And as for hiring people to help protect me, that’d just tell the people in the village that I was there.’

  ‘I agree. They’re bound to look for you at Westcott once they realise you’ve left the London house.’

  ‘If Nora managed to fool them today when she impersonated me, she may have bought us time.’

  ‘We can telephone Mathers tonight to find out.’

  ‘And have the operator listening in and telling everyone who wants to phone me that I’m away from London? I think not.’

  ‘I was intending to make the phone call and pretend to be Mathers’ cousin.’

  ‘We’ll discuss it when we get to Westcott.’ She gave him a confident smile. ‘Anyway, I might know a better place for us to take refuge.’

  ‘Might you, indeed?’

  The disadvantage of the dash mirror, he found, was that he could see the grins on his two friends’ faces in the back, and the way Rosie was smiling. Was it so obvious he was attracted to Georgie?

  He didn’t continue the conversation, just made occasional comments on the scenery or the idiotic things some other drivers did. Drivers ought to be taught to drive safely, in his opinion and have to pass some sort of test before they were let loose on the roads. He’d been well taught in the Army, and was grateful for it.

  But whenever he said that, people got angry at the mere thought of such an inconvenience. Those rich enough to buy a car wanted to hop in it and drive off straight away – or get their chauffeur to do that.

  Only there were a lot of people hurt or killed on the roads, according to the newspapers, especially pedestrians who weren’t used to how fast motor vehicles could move.

  When he realised Georgie hadn’t tried to chat, he kept his eyes on her. But she seemed all right. Just rather quiet. Well, she had a lot to think about. Her cosy world had just been turned upside down.

  Once they arrived at Westcott, Georgie directed him round to the back of the house and suggested he leave the car under the open end of the stables, where it’d have some shelter from the weather as well as being out of sight from anyone passing by, though there ought not to be people passing by.

  Two vehicles, which belonged to her father, were already standing there and once Patrick got closer, he could see the outline of a third car inside the former stables.

  He got out but left the engine running. He walked along the back of the roofed area and Georgie followed him.

  ‘Do you recognise the other car, the one inside the stables?’

  She frowned. ‘No. I wonder who it belongs to?’

  He turned at the end. ‘I think we need to find out whose car it is, then. Do you think someone else is staying here? If so, we should leave at once.’

  ‘I agree. Look, our caretakers should be around somewhere. We can trust them, I promise you. They may know what’s going on. Father does sometimes invite people down here occasionally. I’ll go and find them.’

  As she turned to leave, Patrick grabbed her arm and pulled her back. ‘You’re not going anywhere alone. You and I will go inside together and Martin can sit in the driving seat with the motor still running in case we have to make a quick escape.’

  ‘Surely no one will be expecting us to come here so soon?’

  Even as she spoke, a door at the rear of the house opened and an elderly man peered out.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Patrick’s voice was sharp and his hand stayed clamped tightly round her arm.

  ‘Cecil. Our caretaker.’

  The old man smiled at the sight of Georgie and waved to them.

  ‘He doesn’t look upset in any way.’ She waved back and as Patrick let go of her arm, she hurried across to the house.

  ‘Mr Cotterell didn’t say you were coming down, miss.’

  ‘It was a sudden decision. I recognise Dad’s Humber and the Talbot, but who does that other car belong to?’

  ‘Your father sent the one in the stables down, said to keep it out of direct sight. He said you might want to use it if you came down here.’

  ‘He hasn’t said anything about that to me.’

  ‘You know Mr Cotterell, always thinking ahead, doesn’t tell you anything till you need to know. Perhaps he was going to give it to you as a present when the war ended – well, that’s what my Marge thinks. He told us what a good driver you are.’

  ‘He did? Goodness. Wonders will never cease. Anyway, let me bring my friends in and we can explain why we’re here. Can you ask Marge to make us all a cup of tea?’

  When Cecil had disappeared inside, Patrick said thoughtfully, ‘Do you think it’d be all right with your father to take one of those cars and leave this one here? I’ll check them all out and make sure they’re in good working order.’

  ‘I’m sure Father would approve, given the circumstances.’

  But she was rarely sure of anything where her father was concerned, except that he’d try to protect her. That, she knew for certain.

  Once they were inside the house, they questioned Cecil, who assured them that he hadn’t seen any strangers around the house or village and that of course he and Marge wouldn’t tell anyone they were here.

  ‘One night here, at least, don’t you think, Patrick?’ Georgie asked.

  The others looked at him, waiting for him to make the decision.

  ‘Yes. Maybe even two if we find out that Nora and Mathers fooled them about you still being in London.’

  He was a born leader, Georgie thought. Had the war done that to him or had he always been like that?

  Marge made them a scratch meal of bread and cheese, with some of this year’s
apples brought down from the attic for a dessert, and they all ate together in the kitchen.

  When told their visitors intended to stay for a night or two, both caretakers seemed overwhelmed.

  ‘You won’t have to look after us,’ Georgie told them gently, knowing they were rather frail. ‘We don’t need fussing over. I know when Father comes down he brings more staff to help look after him, doesn’t he?’

  ‘He’s very thoughtful that way,’ Marge agreed.

  ‘And don’t you usually hire Mrs Dobson from the village to help you? If she’s free, get her in full-time for a few days. I’ll pay.’

  Patrick said quickly, ‘No, don’t do that! Miss Cotterell is forgetting that we don’t want anyone else to know we’re here.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Foolish of me.’ Georgie sighed.

  ‘The trouble is, miss, the master hasn’t been down here for a few months so we haven’t got a lot of food in.’

  Georgie hoped she’d hidden her surprise at that. ‘Well, it’s really important to keep our visit secret. Is there some way you can obtain food locally from people who won’t give us away?’

  ‘Oh yes, miss. Sometimes your father sends injured men here to recover and asks us to keep it secret. We know who can be relied on.’

  ‘Do you need extra money to feed us?’

  ‘No, miss. Your father always leaves us plenty. He trusts us not to waste it.’

  ‘I’m sure he does. That’s all right, then.’

  ‘I can help Marge round the house while we’re here, miss,’ Rosie offered.

  ‘So can we all, whether it’s with inside or outside jobs,’ Dennis offered.

  ‘There you are. We’ll all muck in. So that’s settled, Marge.’

  But what wasn’t settled, in Georgie’s own mind at least, was the puzzle of what had been going on for a while. Her father had definitely told her he was going to Westcott two or three times in the past few months, and he’d been away for several days on each occasion. And he hadn’t mentioned sending people to stay there without him, either.

  She’d been too busy both times he’d visited to accompany him and it occurred to her now that he might have arranged for his friend Lady Berrens to give her a fuller than usual workload around then.

  She looked up as she heard her name.

  ‘I need to have a private word with Miss Cotterell about our future arrangements,’ Patrick said. ‘So if you’ve finished eating, Georgie, can you please spare me a few moments?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  What now? she wondered.

  Chapter Seven

  Georgie led the way along to a small sitting room at one side of the front part of the house and gestured to Patrick to sit down. It didn’t have a fire lit and was cold, but that was the least of her worries.

  ‘Let’s look at our situation as if we’re comrades-in-arms, which we are, actually,’ he said quietly. ‘You and I need to be more open with one another. We should be working as a team, not each trying to get our own way.’

  That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. But it hit home. Oh, it did. ‘You’re right. We’re facing a sort of small war together.’

  His expression was so kind, she didn’t hesitate to confide in him. ‘No man except my brother has ever spoken to me so fairly and openly in my whole life as you have.’

  He took her hand and she grasped his tightly. So few people had actually touched her, too.

  ‘You must have met some unpleasant people, lass.’

  ‘Yes. Lived with them, actually. The woman I thought was my mother and the man she tricked me into getting engaged to. Not to mention my older half-brother, who was never well and made up for it by being nasty to everyone else. He died a couple of years ago. So did my fiancé.’

  ‘Killed in the war like your twin?’

  ‘No. My brother just died. Weak heart. My fiancé was killed. He turned out to be rather violent, so good riddance.’

  ‘But you still have your father, surely?’

  ‘He’s not exactly loving, and anyway, I’ve only really known him for the past two years. He rarely came here to Westcott and I rarely left it, apart from going to school. I think he locked away his emotions when my real mother died. He must have loved her greatly, more than he’s ever loved anyone else. Though I do know he cares about my welfare. But things have to be done his way.’

  ‘My mother always hugged me when I needed comforting. I think you need that now.’ Patrick pulled Georgie into his arms and gave her a close hug.

  She stiffened against him, then suddenly gave in to temptation and hugged him back, because there was nothing horrible about the way he touched her, nothing at all like her former fiancé’s attempts to maul her body. Laying her head on Patrick’s shoulder she sighed, feeling wonderfully safe with this kind man.

  He held her until she stirred and didn’t attempt to stop her moving away from him, which she also appreciated.

  ‘Come and sit down on the sofa with me, Georgie, and tell me more about where you think we could take refuge without them guessing how to find us.’

  She didn’t attempt to reply for a moment because she had to ask him, ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Hold me. Hug me.’

  ‘I’ve been wanting to do it for a while, but a man of my station in life doesn’t usually attempt it with a lady like yourself. But you looked so sad, I couldn’t help myself.’

  ‘Oh. Well, even a lady of my station might welcome it – from the right man and for the right reasons. If someone really cared, it would be good to be hugged more often.’

  ‘Cared about you?’ His voice was harsh. ‘That would be easy to do, Georgie. But I’m in no position to support a wife, let alone a lady like you, so I daren’t do anything about my feelings.’

  ‘I have enough money to support myself, thank you very much. I told you that already.’

  ‘And what sort of man would that make me, living off his wife’s money?’

  His wife! she thought in wonder. He’d said the word ‘wife’! Did he mean that his feelings were already strong enough to contemplate that sort of future? She knew she was developing feelings for him. It had happened so quickly, she’d felt as if she’d been struck by lightning. ‘The last thing I care about is our social differences, Patrick.’

  ‘One of us has to care, because the rest of the world will.’

  She chose her words carefully, trying not to frighten him away, and yet not make him feel obligated to her if that wasn’t what he truly wanted. ‘It’s the person who matters to me, Patrick, not how much money he has or who his parents are. And whether a man is supporting his wife or the other way round would be no one else’s business.’

  ‘Ah, Georgie, Georgie …’

  He studied her as if he was trying to see into her soul, then said quietly, ‘Look, we’ll see how things go between us then, eh? Not rush into anything.’

  She gathered her courage together to offer him one final encouragement, ‘But not rush away from it, either?’

  He reached out to caress her cheek. ‘Definitely not, my lovely lass. As long as you’re sure, we can’t help but get to know one another better at the moment.’

  ‘I’m very sure.’

  ‘Then if that’s agreed – and it pleases me greatly, I promise you – let’s concentrate on the safety of our group now. Where is this place we might be able to hide?’

  ‘There’s a village in Wiltshire called Honeyfield, about an hour’s drive from here, give or take, and the big house is used to house women who’ve been ill-treated. The people who run it are lovely and I’m sure they’d not turn us away for a night or two, though I don’t think we should stay there for longer. And I have a friend in the village itself as well, Bella, who used to be engaged to my twin.’

  She paused to get her emotions under control. Sometimes it was agony to talk about Philip. ‘Bella’s married to someone else now and she and Tez have a small child. He’s my twin’s child but her
husband doesn’t mind that. I like Tez very much and my brother would have approved of him and Bella marrying, I’m sure.’ She looked at him ruefully. ‘What a tangle my family’s relationships are in!’

  ‘All families have their tangles. You think we can stay with Bella and Tez?’

  ‘No. Their house isn’t big enough, so we’d have to stay at Honeyfield House.’

  ‘Who exactly owns this big house?’

  ‘The Greyladies Trust. It was set up many years ago to help women in trouble and Tez’s mother is on the committee. So Bella can keep in touch with Lady Berrens for us, as well as with her mother-in-law. I’m sure one of those two will know when matters are resolved with my father, because they’ve been involved in war work with him.’

  ‘Did you tell Mathers where you were thinking of going after Westcott?’

  ‘No. The fewer people who know, the better, don’t you agree? Though he may guess.’

  ‘And you didn’t mention it to Captain Jordan?’

  ‘No. I don’t really know him, you see.’

  ‘Quite right. Go on.’

  ‘When there’s news of my father, we can come out of hiding and … and build new lives, as everyone else will be trying to do now the war is over.’

  He frowned and flushed slightly, before adding, ‘But what are we going to live on while we’re at Honeyfield House? There will be five of us to feed, and neither the lads nor I have a lot of money, nor does Rosie. I’ve some money in the Post Office Savings Bank, if I can get to it.’

  ‘We’ll take some of my father’s money from here. I’m sure he won’t mind. But I don’t think it would matter if we had nothing. The trust provides food and sees to other expenses, and they’re quite used to helping fugitives.’

  She paused for a moment, still thinking it through. ‘It’s women they usually help: women who’re running away from husbands or from people in their family who treat them cruelly – or from men who’ve attacked them and left them with a child.’