‘November already,’ Ma said dolefully as she cast off the second sock of a pair she was knitting. ‘I don’t know about you, Norah, but I can’t get in the mood for Christmas this year.’
‘I’m just going through the motions, Ma. Making puddings, mince pies and preparing to cook a goose a usual.’
‘There’ll be no one here to eat it except us three.’
‘Mebbe the lads’ll get home. Surely – if they’re still in training camp – they’ll let them have some leave.’
‘Aye, mebbe,’ Ma said listlessly, but she couldn’t inject hope into her tone.
She glanced up as a knock sounded at the back door and Bess, followed by Clara, came into the kitchen.
‘Nah then, ladies,’ Bess greeted them and Clara nodded. She was smiling.
‘What’s up with you, Clara Nuttall?’ Ma asked. ‘You look like the cat that’s found the cream in the larder.’
‘Samuel’s coming home for Christmas. He’s got seventy-two hours’ leave.’
‘Aw, lass, that’s grand,’ Ma said, genuinely pleased for the little woman who had taken her son’s departure so hard.
‘I’m going to try to persuade him to stay at home – not to go back.’
The other three women in the room were shocked. They glanced at each other uncomfortably.
‘You can’t do that, duck,’ Ma said. ‘He’d be in serious trouble. He’d be classed as a deserter. And you know what they do to them, don’t you?’
Clara bit her lip and shook her head.
Bess snorted with contempt. ‘They put ’em up against a wall and shoot ’em, that’s what.’ Clara gasped and turned white, feeling for the nearest chair to sink into. ‘Couldn’t I – keep him hidden for the rest of the war?’
‘No, duck, you couldn’t,’ Ma said gently, with a warning glance at Bess. ‘They’d come looking for him and then they’d court-martial him and, yes, his punishment would be – severe.’
Clara’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I was so happy when I got his letter saying that he was coming for Christmas. I thought I could get him to stay . . .’ Her voice trailed away.
‘You mustn’t even try, Clara,’ Bess said bluntly. ‘He’s joined the army and that’s an end to it. Oh, I know I’ve no right to talk, only having two daughters and them safely at home, but I do know that if I’d’ve had lads, I’d’ve backed ’em in whatever they wanted to do, even . . .’ she glared at Ma, ‘if they’d refused to go.’ She nodded as if agreeing with herself. ‘Aye, I know it’s the unmentionable subject in this house, but I’ve always been one to speak my mind, you all know that, and I’ll say it now; I’d not’ve turned me back on me son. I’d’ve respected his wishes and stood by him. It took a lot of courage for your William to stand up agin his family and the whole village. I admire him, if no one else does. And when he comes back, I’ll be the first to shek his hand.’
Ma and Norah avoided meeting the woman’s gaze. They had very mixed feelings, none of which they dared to voice aloud for fear that Len would get to hear about it. Good-hearted in many ways though Bess was, she was better than a town crier when it came to spreading gossip.
‘Now,’ Bess said, changing the subject, ‘me and Clara have brought you several pairs of socks, a couple of balaclavas and two Christmas cakes. We reckoned you’d be taking things up to the hall for Mrs Maitland to send out to Miss Pips. She’ll see they get to the right place, now won’t she?’
‘I hope Mrs Maitland knows where to send it all,’ Ma said. ‘She was telling me that in her last letter home, Miss Pips said they were moving about a lot. They keep going to where the fighting’s the heaviest.’
‘Really?’ Norah frowned. ‘You didn’t tell me that, Ma.’
Ma could have bitten off the end of her tongue. When Henrietta had told her the news, they’d decided not to tell Norah. Now Ma had let it out.
‘I thought everyone said they’d be staying well behind the front lines, that Alice wouldn’t be in any danger,’ Norah said.
Or William, they were both thinking, though neither spoke his name aloud.
‘Miss Pips explained it,’ Ma said gently, as Bess pulled out a chair and sat down too. She wasn’t going to miss this piece of juicy gossip. Already she could imagine herself telling the rest of the villagers whether they wanted to hear it or not. ‘You all reckon William Dawson’s a coward,’ she could hear herself saying. ‘Well, he isn’t. He’s up there, right at the front, fetching in the wounded and liable to get shot at himself. And, from what I’ve heard, stretcher bearers don’t carry a weapon, so he’s nowt to defend hissen with.’ She wasn’t beyond embroidering a good tale. Even though she really had no idea exactly what William would be doing, it sounded good. And she didn’t know if it was true about him not carrying a gun, but it sounded like common sense to her. You couldn’t wield a gun if you were carrying stretchers. Bess Cooper might not have had much book learning, but she certainly wasn’t lacking in common sense.
‘They need to be as near to the front as they can get, you see,’ Ma went on now, ‘to aid the casualties as soon as possible. Long delays cause more problems for the wounded.’
‘Stands to reason,’ Bess sniffed. ‘They could bleed to death, else.’
‘But Alice, what about Alice?’ Norah asked.
‘She’ll be all right, Norah, duck. She’ll be back at the first-aid post,’ Bess said. ‘They’ll not have sited that where the enemy’s guns can reach ’em.’
‘I just hope you’re right, Bess,’ Norah murmured.
About William, she still said nothing.