‘I’m sorry you had all this to do before you started today. Did my dad ask if you wanted to live in?’
‘He did and I’d be right grateful. Just until your ma comes back, of course. Be ever so helpful living here and I can do all the bottling, jam making and pickling for you. Pity to waste all the soft fruit and vegetables from your veg garden.’
‘Nothing cooked for me, thank you, I only have toast and marmalade.’
‘No wonder you’ve got no flesh on your bones, Ellie. You should eat more. Cooked breakfast would do you good.’
Greg wandered in and Ellie introduced him. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing, Mrs B, and I’d certainly like whatever you’re cooking. It smells delicious. Jack’s still asleep. I expect he’ll come down later.’
Half an hour later they were on their way and she felt strangely comfortable in his company. She supposed having shared so much over the past few days meant they were closer than they would otherwise be.
She glanced sideways and he smiled. He really was a very attractive young man. She much preferred corn coloured hair and blue eyes to red hair and green eyes.
‘I’ve been thinking about Jack’s Uncle Joe. He must have known what was in that envelope and I’m thinking that’s why my dad allowed him to set up his airfield here and even lent him the money to buy the new de Havilland Tiger Moth.’
‘Blackmailed him, you mean?’
‘Something like that. When you think about it there has to be something fishy – otherwise why would someone from the East End come to Glebe Farm and not go somewhere else? Too much of a coincidence, if you want my opinion.’
‘You could be right. No point in worrying about it now as the airfield belongs to Jack. You can always ask your father if you really want to know.’
‘I’m not going to mention it. He would have done it to protect my mum. With him family is more important than anything else. I just wish she was as loyal as he is.’ Something nasty occurred to her. ‘Do you think she’s a fascist too? I do hope not. Don’t turn down the track, I want to go into the village and post this letter to my grandfather before we go to the airfield.’
*
Mrs B was the only one in the house when Jack eventually found the energy to get dressed and go downstairs. She greeted him with a friendly smile and the offer of a cooked breakfast which he declined.
He could do with his car back but couldn’t think of a way to get it unless he cadged a lift into Romford and caught the train to London and collected it himself. There was no point in borrowing old Fred’s truck as then someone would still have to drive it back from the station. He was wearing togs borrowed from Greg and needed to get his own things some time today, perhaps he could use it for that. He’d ask him when he came back for lunch. Ellie had offered to go this evening, but he didn’t want to wait that long.
He wandered outside into the sunshine and spotted Ellie’s bicycle leaning drunkenly against the wall. It was only a couple of miles to the village – surely he could manage that even with one duff arm? There was a large wicker basket attached to the front handlebars and a rack over the back mudguard.
He should really put the saddle up but, apart from not knowing where to find the necessary spanner, he only had one good arm so wouldn’t be able to do it anyway. He found it strange riding a lady’s bicycle but soon got the hang of it.
His landlady handed him his belongings and closed the door as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of him. He’d had the forethought to bring a couple of lengths of string with him and, with some difficulty, finally achieved his objective. The suitcase was tied to the back and the kitbag balanced in the front basket.
This meant his vision was obscured and he had to peer over the top of his luggage in order to be able to see where he was going. The last half a mile was downhill so he could allow gravity to do the rest.
Fred was in the yard with two blokes who must be his labourers. He was greeted with a wave. ‘Go on in, lad, we’ll bring in your stuff. You shouldn’t be peddling about the place, not in your condition.’
‘I’m all right, thanks. I’m bushed, but nothing a bit of lunch and a cup of tea won’t put right.’
*
After lunch he was left to his own devices. Unpacking didn’t take long and he had the rest of the afternoon to kill. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the candlewick bedspread. Jimmy had told him to rest as much as possible and he’d done the exact opposite so far. If he wanted to be back at work before Greg had to leave he’d better start taking care of himself.
Fred had said they were working on the far side of the farm this afternoon – something to do with hedging or fencing, he hadn’t been listening too closely. Mrs B had finished her chores, cleaned out the rooms she would be occupying, and gone home to collect her clothes.
The house was quiet and he stretched out and dozed off. He was roused by a thunderous knocking on the front door. He sat up; it took him a moment to clear his head. He rolled out of bed and went to the head of the stairs.
‘Hold your horses. No need to make so much racket. I’ll be there in a minute.’ Whoever it was must have heard him yell because the noise stopped.
Jack took his time putting his shoes on, washing his face and running his fingers through his hair before he went down to answer the door. He was pretty sure he knew who was out there. His mouth quirked. Of course, it could be the rozzers and not Ellie’s grandfather – but he doubted it.
He pushed the bolt back and opened the door. A large, uniformed chauffeur with a belligerent expression was standing on the doorstep. There was no sign of Humphrey but he supposed he was sitting in his car until he could come in without being kept standing about.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Sir Reginald Humphrey is here to see his granddaughter.’
‘Sorry, he’s out of luck. Miss Simpson and Mr Simpson are out for the rest of the day. Tell him he’s free to wait in his car until they come back.’ Jack shut the door but remained behind it expecting the chauffeur to bang again and demand entry for his master.
After a few minutes of silence Jack locked the door and went to the kitchen to see if there was any grub lying around in the pantry. He’d better check the back door was locked as he didn’t want any more surprise visitors. Last night’s intruders had come in through the scullery window but this was now definitely latched.
Mrs B, if she returned before Fred, would have to knock. Better that than allowing the fascist bastard outside to get in the house without an invitation.
He found bread and cheese and made himself a sandwich which he took to the table. He’d just sunk his teeth into it when the knocking began again. He ignored it for a few minutes but it continued until he had to get up.
He didn’t bother to go to the door but shouted from where he was. ‘I told you, I’m not letting you in. You will have to wait until Mr Simpson or Miss Simpson return. I’m a guest here and it’s not up to me who comes in.’
This time the response was from a deep, plummy male voice. ‘Open this door at once. I’ll not be kept waiting like a tradesman. I’ve more right to be in this house than you have.’
‘Sod off, you fascist bastard. I’m eating my lunch. There’s a pub in the village. Go there and come back this evening.’
*
The day at the airfield was like any other. Gladys, who was now running the office, noticed nothing out of the ordinary in there. Both she and Sid accepted Ellie’s explanation, that Jack had sprained his ankle, without comment. Greg went up twice with nervous pilots and she took the rest of them.
She was in the office having just signed a log book and said goodbye to a pupil when Jack rang. ‘I thought I’d better let you know that your grandfather and his chauffeur are outside. I told them to sod off to the village to wait but I don’t think they have.’
‘Don’t let him in – let him sit in his car. I’m not coming back just for him. We’ll be finished here in a couple of hours; can you hold the fort until then?’
‘Can do. Take your time – I can always give him both barrels if necessary.’ He sounded as if he was eating his lunch. He swallowed noisily before continuing. ‘Helped myself to some bread and cheese – hope you don’t mind.’
‘Of course not. What does Mrs B think of all this kerfuffle?’
‘Fortunately, she’s gone home to collect her things. She said she wouldn’t be back until four.’
‘I’ve got to go – we’ll be home about six o’clock.’
‘Hang on a minute. There’s no need for you to go to my old digs, I borrowed your bicycle and fetched everything myself.’
He hung up not giving her time to reply. He was supposed to be taking things easy not cycling all over the place. There was nothing she could do about it so she might as well get on with the afternoon.
*
Greg was a good driver but Ellie still flinched every time they hit a pothole. Her stomach was churning and she wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable confrontation with her unwanted relation.
‘Do you think my mother knows he’s here?’
He looked at her blankly for a second and then nodded. ‘Your grandfather? I doubt it – he wouldn’t want the daughter he’s only just been reunited with to know what you know. If he’s anything like my father he will come and go as he pleases and not bother to inform anyone of his whereabouts.’
‘I’m hoping that she doesn’t know what he’s really like. She might be a bit of a snob but I’m certain she’s not a fascist. I’ve heard her talking about Hitler with Dad and she always agreed with him that the man is a monster.’
They turned onto the lane that led in one direction to the village, and in the other to her home. They would be at Glebe Farm in five minutes and she needed to get herself ready. As far as she was concerned Sir Reginald Humphrey was nothing to do with her and she intended it to remain that way.
‘It won’t be so bad, Ellie, with Jack and I at your side he can’t do anything you don’t like.’ Greg patted her on the knee and the warmth and strength of his hand was reassuring.
‘As long as this is the one and only time I have to meet him then I can deal with it. But Dad and I are then going to have to decide if we’re going to tell Mum. She’s just got back the life she always regretted leaving – she will be devastated to lose it again so soon’.
They turned into the yard and he was forced to slam on the brakes; only his arm braced across her chest stopped her from crashing painfully into the dashboard.
‘The Bentley must be his car. The other one is Jack’s – his friend must have brought it back for him. I’m glad Jimmy’s here – safety in numbers and all that.’
Greg expertly manoeuvred his sports car into a small space to one side of the Bentley. ‘Your dad will have to park his truck in the field when he gets back.’
She scrambled out, not bothering to open the door, and headed for the back door. ‘I’m hoping all this will be over before he gets back. He’s had more than enough to deal with recently.’
‘It must be a relief to him that everything is in the open. Having that hanging over him for years must have been miserable.’
‘I wonder if he was doing it for me or for my mum? I’d like to think it was for her and then there might be the chance they’ll get back together again.’
His hand was resting in the small of her back and she didn’t shrug it off. ‘After the war Neil’s going to take over the farm…’ She stopped and swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘It’s inevitable, this war with Germany, isn’t it?’
‘Fraid so. Let’s not think about that right now. I’ve just noticed the Bentley’s empty – Humphrey must have taken his chauffeur in with him.’ He stepped around her. ‘That’s not the done thing. Staff wait outside. I’ll go in first, if you don’t mind.’
She didn’t mind at all. She’d had more than enough daring-do in the past twenty-four hours and was quite happy to let him take charge. Jack was injured and Jimmy wasn’t a big man – Greg was.
Mrs B opened the door as they approached. One look at the housekeeper’s bleached complexion was enough to warn Ellie that things weren’t going well indoors.
‘I’m ever so glad you’re back, miss, there’s a horrible man in the front room and there’s been a lot of shouting and carrying on. I wouldn’t have come to work here if I’d known this was going to happen.’ She sniffed again and reached for the handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe her eyes. ‘I had the nasty chauffeur in here with me until Mr Reynolds fetched him. It’s not right him being in the house – he should have waited outside.’
‘Mr Dunlop will take care of things, Mrs B. I promise you it won’t happen again. Shall we go in and let the men get on with it?’
Ellie put her arm around the distressed woman and guided her into the welcoming warmth of the kitchen and closed the door behind them. The wood was thick, as were the ancient walls, and the sound of raised voices was no longer audible.
‘Have you settled in? Do you need any bed linen or towels and things?’
‘I found everything I needed, thank you. I could do with a few of my bits and bobs that I couldn’t carry. Do you think Mr Simpson would fetch them in his truck?’
‘I’m certain he will. Now, I can smell something delicious – have you made steak and kidney pie for tonight?’
‘That I have. There’s new potatoes from the garden and carrots and peas as well. I made a rhubarb crumble for afters. No need for custard as you’ve always got plenty of cream.’
‘Will there be enough for Doctor Hunt? He’s driven down from London to return Mr Reynolds’ car.’
Mrs B sniffed. ‘As long as I don’t have to feed the other two nasty bits of work, there’ll be plenty to go around.’ Her colour was better and Ellie thought the chance of their new housekeeper changing her mind had been averted.
Fourteen
Not long after Jack had spoken to Ellie he heard the familiar sound of his own car in the yard. Jimmy had brought it back for him. Not the ideal time – but having another bloke around would even the odds.
He opened the kitchen window and yelled. ‘Front door, mate, make it snappy. Don’t want the uninvited guests to barge their way in.’
His friend waved and was out of the car and sprinting towards the house before either the chauffeur or his master had time to react.
‘Come in, I’d better tell you what this is all about.’
Jimmy was suitably impressed by his tale. ‘Exciting life you’re leading, old son. Exactly what are you planning? If they’ve been outside for a couple of hours already they’re obviously not intending to leave before they’ve spoken to someone.’
‘Ellie told me to keep them outside until she and Greg get home.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Another hour at least.’ Something was moving behind the hedge at the top of the track that led to the farm. ‘Bloody hell! It’s the housekeeper, Mrs B, coming back. She’s going to have to walk past them.’
‘Don’t want the old biddy scared witless – better invite them in. If we keep them in the sitting room and ply them with tea and cake that should keep them quiet for a while.’
‘Do me a favour, Jimmy, you’re one of them. Would you tell Humphrey he can come in? He’s less likely to kick off with you. Blokes like him don’t like ordinary folk like me.’
His friend looked dubious. ‘He doesn’t know me from Adam – can’t see why he wouldn’t be just as rude. I’ll give it a go. Whilst I’m talking to them you can let the housekeeper in and get her to put the kettle on.’
They watched from the window until Mrs B came into view and then Jimmy nipped out smartish. Jack saw him speak to the housekeeper and point in the direction of the front door which meant she didn’t have to walk past the Bentley.
Jack had the door open when she arrived, red-faced and puffing after her long walk. ‘Sorry about this, Mrs B, it’s to do with Mrs Simpson. If you’d make us some tea and a bit of that fruitcake would go down a treat too.’ He took one of the large suitcases f
rom her hand and dashed through the house and dumped it in her new lodgings. She followed with the other one. ‘No rush with the tea and things – get yourself sorted out first.’
‘Thank you, sir, I’ll do that. I’ll be along with a tray in half an hour.’
He closed the door firmly behind him in the hope that she wouldn’t hear if there was further shouting from Ellie’s grandfather.
Sir Reginald burst into the house via the front door closely followed by his chauffeur. The man’s appearance matched his temperament and politics. He was about the same height as Ellie, had brown hair like her, but there the resemblance ended. He had small, beady eyes set behind metal-rimmed spectacles, and red veins on his cheeks – the tell-tale sign of a heavy drinker.
‘I don’t appreciate being kept outside like a lackey. When Charlotte told me what she’d had to endure over the past twenty years she failed to mention that her husband had taken in unsavoury lodgers.’
Jimmy peered around the man’s shoulder and pulled a face. Jack couldn’t prevent his smile. This further enraged the unpleasant visitor. He seemed to swell and his face turned an interesting shade of beetroot.
‘Don’t you smirk at me, you oaf. My man will not stand for such insolence.’
The chauffeur surged forward with clenched fists but Jack moved more quickly and shot into the sitting room. His friend stepped around the spluttering idiot and stood shoulder to shoulder with him.
‘Sir Reginald, this will not do. Servants do not enter through the front door, but by the back. Kindly send him on his way.’ Jimmy’s cut-glass accent was sufficient to stop the chauffeur in his tracks. He shifted uncomfortably and glanced at his employer.
‘Go, Johnson, but remain within call.’
The man slunk off. ‘I am a house guest here, Sir Reginald, a personal friend of the family. Doctor Hunt is my personal physician and also a friend of the family. In the absence of either Ellie or Mr Simpson you have no option but to be entertained by us.’ Jack couldn’t quite match Jimmy’s accent but thought he sounded posh enough to impress.
Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2 Page 12
