by Connie Monk
‘Of course I’ll come. The girls start back to school before you do, I expect, so the first day of their term I’ll come with you to the lodge. Does Elspeth get taken for walks? If she isn’t frightened off because I’m strange to her, I was thinking perhaps she could be brought down to Westways. There’s something very, very . . .’ She hesitated, groping for the right word. ‘Sort of full of goodness about outside work, nurturing plants.’
He gazed at her steadily and for a moment she was disconcerted by his unfathomable expression.
‘How could she be frightened off? My belief, indeed my hope and my reason for suggesting you let me take you to her, is that because she isn’t like the rest of us, she will see beyond an unfamiliar stranger and know you for the person you are.’
‘Mum!’ Jessie called as she rushed into the room, ‘come quick, Mum. It’s gone all funny.’
Kathie listened. ‘. . . bleak midwinter, stormy winds did . . . bleak midwinter, stormy winds did . . .’
‘Nothing serious, love. The needle is stuck. I’ll do it.’
‘Didn’t I tell you, Beth? Mum knows what’s happened; she’s coming to put it right.’
Jess climbed on a chair so that she could see Kathie lightly touch the head of the gramophone, setting the stormy winds on their way. If it happened again she would be able to do it herself, she decided. There was much of her mother in Jess; she wasn’t prepared to be beaten.
Those days of Christmas and New Year needed every ounce of Kathie’s strength of character. Her salvation came from the two little girls and her determination to give them happy and lasting memories.
They returned to school on the first Thursday in January and so at mid-morning of that day Bruce called for her and together they walked up the hill to the main gate of the hall. Another morning and the earth might be rock hard and white with frost, but that Thursday the air was soft and the birds seemed to believe nature’s call of spring had arrived. As soon as Kathie had set Sally and Sarah to work she had gone indoors to dress for her outing. Her wardrobe held nothing to inspire her, nothing except her ‘outfit’ so, smiling to herself as she remembered the last time she had worn it, she had taken it off its hanger. January demanded a thick jumper under the jacket.
Immediately, Bruce recognized the effort she had made.
‘You look extremely smart,’ he said, a twinkle in his eyes as he raised his brows.
Just weeks ago Kathie would have been annoyed and embarrassed. Now, though, she surprised herself by laughing.
‘I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. I did make a supreme effort when I came to the hall to take you down a peg or two. Today is different. I put on what we call my outfit because I wanted to do my best for Elspeth.’
‘You look delightful, then and now. But, if I’m honest, I prefer you in those ghastly clown-like trousers and wellington boots.’
‘Hardly the right attire for going a-visiting.’
‘Will she so much as notice? Perhaps the idea of taking you there is crazy, but there seems to be a magic healing power in Westways – and it must stem from you. You worked something of a miracle with young Marley; and have you any idea what it has meant to me to be accepted in your home?’
This time his remark deprived her of words; she could respond to playful banter, but there was a depth of seriousness in his voice that made her uneasy. It was a relief when he held open the wrought iron gate of the hall and, opening the door of the lodge with his key, ushered her inside.
‘Look, Elspeth my pet,’ Nanny Giles said to her charge as Bruce and Kathie came into the sitting room, ‘here’s Mr Bruce and he’s brought you a visitor.’
The woman seated on the sofa in front of the fire nodded, her mouth opening in a smile. Kathie couldn’t let herself look towards Bruce; she was moved with sympathy that physically ached.
‘Hello my dear,’ he said, stooping to kiss his wife’s forehead as he sat down by her side and indicated to Kathie to take the nearby armchair. His words brought a nod of Elspeth’s head, in fact more than a nod, it continued at the same momentum as she looked past him to Kathie.
‘I live just down the road,’ Kathie said. ‘Bruce and I walked here together. It’s such a perfect morning. Just look at that glorious blue sky.’ She pointed to the window and was rewarded by Elspeth turning her nodding head to admire the day. ‘Where I live we have a field full of things we grow – vegetables, I mean. Perhaps you would like to come and see me when you and Nanny go for a walk?’ She addressed the invitation to Elspeth, but looked to Nanny Giles for approval.
‘Why now, Elspeth my pet, wouldn’t that be just champion.’
But Elspeth’s attention was lost. As Bruce had sat by her, so he had automatically taken her hand feeling her fingers entwine themselves with his. Kathie tried not to look at them as he raised their clasped hands to move against his cheek. Make her show some sort of response, she begged silently, surprising herself that it should matter so much to her. She hardly knew him at all and his poor ‘lost’ wife was a complete stranger, but she couldn’t bear to remember how he had exposed his heart to her when he’d talked on Christmas Eve. We’re so lucky, Den and me. Even though he’s away we are never separated, not as these two are as they sit holding hands. What sort of hell has Bruce lived through during the years that have brought them to this?
Ten minutes later she and Bruce were on their way back down the hill. Their previous easy bantering conversation had gone and yet neither of them was ready to talk about the still beautiful, but ‘empty’ woman they had just left.
That same afternoon while Kathie was putting every ounce of her energy into turning the soil which had been ploughed in her first effort to master the motorized digger, Elspeth and Nanny Giles arrived. Nothing could ever really break through the fog that was Elspeth’s mind, but her first visit to Westways came nearer than anything had for a very long time. She must have been aware of her surroundings, for when the nurse tried to lead her to the gate she pulled back, not wanting to leave.
‘Nice warm fire at home, my pet,’ the nurse said encouragingly. ‘Give Nanny your hand like a good girl.’
The good girl let her hand be taken, she walked by the nurse’s side, but time and again she turned her head to look at what they were leaving.
‘Poor woman,’ Sarah said as she and Sally watched the couple depart. ‘Gosh, but doesn’t it make you count your blessings when you think of your own family. I bet she’s not as old as our mums are.’
‘Why do you reckon he married her?’ Sally wondered. ‘I bet back in those days, when they got hitched, I mean, I bet he was a real dish.’
‘And so must she have been. She’s good looking now, except that her face is sort of blank. Fancy, he keeps her there in the lodge and no one, not even the locals who come in to the pub, chaps who never miss a trick, none of them have an inkling that the headmaster has a wife. Don’t let’s say anything, Sal. Be rotten for him to have the village talking.’ It wasn’t said lightly. Sarah’s conscience had to battle, for it would have been a great talking point in the bar. ‘I expect they gossip just as much at that chapel your dad’s so tied up with as they do in the pubs.’
‘I expect they do. But they might want to show Mr What’s-his-name, her husband, that they were sorry for him.’
‘Bet he’d hate that. Well, anyway, I know I would if I were in his shoes. Have you filled your box of parsnips yet? My turnips are about ready. It’d save Mrs Hawthorne having to stop the digging if we suggested taking the old cart to the village. What do you say?’
So, ten minutes or so later the old hand cart was loaded with the day’s delivery and they set off to the village. In the four months they had been at Westways they had forgotten all about looking for work in more comfortable surroundings and relished the challenge of keeping the all-female market garden as productive as it ever had been.
That afternoon was the first of Elspeth’s frequent visits. It became an almost daily habit if the weather was fine.
There was no doubt she enjoyed walking between the rows of vegetables, the smile never leaving her face. But as to recognition, it was as if each visit was her first.
It was the week following Kathie’s visit to the lodge, in the early hours of Wednesday morning when Kathie half woke. She’d gone to sleep indulging the same picture in her mind as she so often did: the sound of familiar footsteps and she would look out of the window and see Den. So, half stirring, she knew she must have been dreaming when she heard someone coming up the garden path. But hark, what was that click? No, it must have been imagination; there was no other sound. Lying perfectly still, she strained her ears to listen She climbed out of bed and switched on the light, only then remembering to close the heavy blackout curtains.
That’s when, almost frightened to death, she heard the bedroom door open.
This was no dream. Den was home. Wordlessly they moved to each other. His arms were strong, his mouth on hers banishing everything from her mind except pure joy. Neither the scratchy material of his uniform nor its unpleasantly disinfectant smell could mar the moment.
‘Fourteen days,’ he whispered, ‘fourteen whole days.’
‘I would have waited up. Oh Den, you’re real. I’ve dreamt it so often; but this isn’t a dream. We’ll creep downstairs and I’ll find you some food.’
‘No, we’ll just stay here. Is Jess OK?’
She nodded, unbuttoning his battledress top.
‘Just wait till she sees you! And Beth. Beth’s a dear.’
His only answer to that was a grunt that spoke as clearly as any words.
‘Let’s get to bed. I want to hear about everything,’ he said, speaking in a whisper and starting to take off his uniform. ‘Hell of a journey. Crowded like sardines on the train; I sat on my kitbag in the corridor right from Paddington to Exeter. Blinds down, only that dim blue light lost in a fog of cigarette smoke. They’ve cut the evening country route bus or I would have been home hours ago. Got the local train to Deremouth. I thought, hang the expense, I’ll get the station cab. But there wasn’t one.’
‘Who brought you?’
‘Shank’s pony. Walked the whole ruddy way. Damned war!’ Then, his tone changing as with his hands on her shoulders he held her at arm’s-length, looking at her, ‘Kathie, oh Kathie, you don’t know what it’s like to come home. Everything I want is here.’ He looked remarkably manly despite being stripped to his army issue vest and underpants which defied any man other than one with a perfect physique to appear attractive and which smelt of the same disinfectant as his battledress.
Surprising herself as much as she surprised him, she tore off her nightgown as he divested himself of the offending undergarments. How often she’d dreamed of this; now he was here, he was real. She raised her hand to his naked shoulder. For four months while he’d gone through initial training he’d had no leave, they had come no nearer than voices on the telephone; surely he was as hungry for love as she was herself.
‘Kathie, oh God, Kathie, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you – you, Jess, everything here. I’ll turn the light out while you pull those beastly curtains back.’
A minute later, despite it being mid-January, he pushed the bottom window up and leant far out taking in great gulps of the crisp, night air.
‘Sniff the air, Kathie. Home. Tomorrow you’ll know what it’s like to have a man out there working.’
She came to stand behind him, holding her arms around him.
‘Tonight I want to know what it’s like to have that man in here with me.’
Laughing softly he turned back into the room and drew her into his arms.
‘Fourteen whole days – and fourteen whole nights.’ Then, after a brief pause and speaking softly, he added. ‘Kathie, the waiting’s over. This is embarkation leave.’
‘No,’ she whispered in disbelief, ‘not so soon. This is the first leave you’ve had. They can’t send you abroad—’
His mouth covered hers, then still clinging to each other and she walking backwards, they moved towards the bed. That night their emotions were heightened by the thought of a separation so much more final than a posting to a camp somewhere in the same country. The future loomed before them, unknown and unimaginable. Only the present was real, familiar and precious.
Jess was beside herself with excitement when it was Dennis who woke her next morning. Standing up in bed she hurled herself into his open arms.
‘Dad’s come home. Look Beth, this is Dad.’
‘Let’s look at you, kiddo. My word, but you’ve grown. It must be because you’re six.’
Jess giggled, nuzzling her face against his neck.
‘Silly Dad. Dad, this is Beth. She’s never had a dad of her own, so she’s going to share with me. Stand up Beth; come and let’s all have a squeeze together.’ Said with such certainty that the other two would be as pleased as she was with the situation, that she was at a loss to understand why neither of them made a move.
‘Hello, Beth.’ Den forced a note of heartiness into his voice. ‘You’re settling in, are you? I expect you’re like me, looking forward to the day this bl—’ He quickly substituted a different adjective from the one that came naturally to his lips. ‘Blessed war is over and we can all get back home.’
Beth shook her head. ‘I like being here with Auntie Kathie and Jess.’
‘And Fudge,’ Jess threw in for good measure. ‘Did Fudge bark when you got here, Dad?’
‘I remembered in time and left my boots in the porch. He seems a nice enough puppy.’
Jess and Beth exchanged a look of satisfaction. At the back of their minds and never put into words had been the fear that he might say there was too much to do at Westways to keep a dog.
The breakfast fare was the same as any other morning: a bowl of porridge, a boiled egg, then toast and either jam or marmalade from the jar of preserves made before there was any thought of shortages. Yet, it struck Kathie that there was an underlying feeling of festivity. Only three weeks ago it had been Christmas, a time when she had been determined the house would be filled with that elusive spirit of joy; but being determined was a far cry from letting it happen naturally as it did that morning.
‘You know what, Dad?’ Jess held her stubby first finger up in the way that told them she had had a bright idea. ‘Beth can’t call you Dad if she calls Mum, Auntie Kathie. So, tell you what, Beth – you call him Uncle Den. OK? OK Dad?’
Looking uncertain Beth nodded. Kathie had come to know her well and she recognized just how much the little girl wanted a sign of approval.
‘That’s a good idea, Jess love,’ she spoke before Dennis even had a chance to make a grunt of acceptance. He knew he was being unfair, but it was beyond him to stamp out his niggling resentment that a fourth person at their table spoilt the image he cherished.
The morning ritual got back on track. The children were sent to rinse their hands after their meal, and then put on their coats, berets and scarves. Then, as every other day, at exactly twenty-five to nine they promised Fudge a walked as soon as they got home and were off to school. From the window of the kitchen extension Den and Kathie watched them scurrying along the lane, their pace never slackening despite the fact they were obviously deep in conversation.
‘She’s a great kid,’ Den mused. ‘The other one seems a bit slow.’
‘Slow she most certainly isn’t. In four months she has come on in leaps and bounds. She didn’t even know her letters—’
‘There you are then! It must be hard for teachers to have backward kids put in their classes. But Jess will help her.’
‘She reads as well as Jess does now and writes well too. She’d had no chance, poor mite. She and Jess are such – such mates.’
‘While you wash these dishes I’ll take this tripe-hound up to the common. Then, just think, Kathie, a whole day out there getting my hands dirty in God’s good earth.’
A whole day, then there would be another and another, but so soon they would all melt away. To shak
e off the devil of gloom and fear that threatened, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and started to stack the plates. No shadow must be allowed to fall over the gift of a fourteen-day leave – not yet, not until the dreaded day when he had to put on that smelly uniform, not until all this was no more than a memory they must cling to until he came home from this nameless ‘overseas’, home not just for leave but to slip back into the life he loved.
By the time Sally and Sarah leant their bikes against the shed just as the clock on the stable at the hall struck nine, Fudge had answered the call of nature and immediately been made to retrace his steps. Den was tinkering with the motorized digger and an oil can, and Kathie was pulling on her wellington boots. The working day at Westways had started.
On their way to school the girls had had to pass the greengrocer’s shop where Jack Hopkins was bringing his boxes of vegetables to prop against a frame he had made for the purpose outside the front window.
‘D’you know what, Mr Hopkins? No, course you can’t do. My dad has come home. He’s home for a whole two weeks. I bet he’ll bring the veg himself today.’
‘Well, Jessie m’dear, that’s a bit of good news if ever I heard one.’
Jess nodded her head in a way that was almost regal, believing it conveyed to him how grown up she was. Then tugging at Beth’s hand she started to run. ‘Come on, Beth, or we’ll be late. Don’t ’spect we’d be grumbled at, though, not when we told them about Dad.’
Jack Hopkins had been established at the greengrocery shop before Dennis turned his first sod of earth at Westways, and after twenty years he still thought of him as the young man he had been, just home from that other war. So, an hour or so later he called up the stairs to his wife, ‘Any chance you can hold the fort here for half an hour or so, Mabs, I hear young Dennis Hawthorne has got some leave. I’d like just to have the chance to shake him by the hand and ask him how he’s been doing.’
