31. Mary Vale Farm

As news of Jamie’s surprise visit spread through the Home, Sister Ann insisted that Ada, who was scheduled to do the Christmas Day afternoon shift, should spend the rest of the day with her boyfriend.

‘He’ll be gone before you know it,’ Sister Ann said earnestly. ‘You must make the most of your time together.’

Ada, who could only think of her beloved, was in no mood to argue: the thought of spending time alone with Jamie made her giddy with happiness.

‘Well, if you’re sure …’ she asked.

‘Get away with you,’ Sister Ann exclaimed. ‘It’s not like we’re rushed off our feet. There’s nobody else due to give birth. Sister Theresa has volunteered to lend a hand with the feeding rota so you’re as free as a bird.’

‘Will you make sure that Gracie gets her Christmas dinner on a tray in the ward?’ Ada fretted. ‘I don’t want her tiring herself out walking up and down all those long corridors.’

‘Of course,’ Sister Ann promised. ‘I’ll see to it myself.’

Ada was feeling rather guilty that she had barely seen the new mother since she had given birth. ‘I popped in to see her earlier: she seems to be thriving, though her breasts are sore with not feeding, but that will pass.’ She smiled as she added, ‘Gracie’s called her little girl Daisy – she’s a sweet little thing.’

Sister Ann gave her friend a gentle shove. ‘Don’t hang about here wasting precious time. Off you go – there’s a handsome young man waiting for you!’

Smiling excitedly, Ada hurried to Jamie’s former surgery, where she expected to find him soundly sleeping, but when she got there Jamie was nowhere to be seen. Standing in the corridor wondering where he might have gone to, Ada heard loud, clear whistling coming from the staff bathroom.

‘Jamie, is that you?’ she called, as she pushed open the door.

Waving his razor in the air, Jamie answered with a cheerful smile. ‘Morning, darling. Come and join me,’ he said, and he beckoned her over to the sink.

Giggling Ada wiped soap from his stubbly chin and then mischievously dabbed it on his nose.

‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked.

Disregarding his soapy face, Jamie pulled Ada to his chest and kissed her long and hard on the lips.

‘I most certainly did,’ he announced, as he rubbed his stubbly face against her silky-soft cheek.

‘OW! Stop,’ she exclaimed, as she struggled free of his grip. ‘Listen, darling,’ she added urgently, ‘Matron’s given me the rest of the day off.’

‘Wonderful!’ he declared. ‘Let’s go fell-walking, just you and me on the mountaintops on Christmas Day,’ he added romantically.

‘Oh, yes,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ll go and get changed right away.’

‘Try and scrounge some food off Sister Mary Paul,’ Jamie called after her. ‘I’m ravenous again.’

‘Okay,’ Ada called over her shoulder. ‘See you in the kitchen in ten minutes.’

Ada found Jamie sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of tea and a plate of fried eggs and beans before him. Clucking like an anxious mother hen, Sister Mary Paul popped another plateful of food and another mug of tea on the table for Ada.

‘Eat!’ she commanded. ‘Dr Reid tells me you’re going fell-walking in this freezing cold weather. Glory be to God, you could catch your death up there,’ she fretted.

Ada playfully rolled her eyes at Jamie, who gave her an indulgent smile.

‘It’s a fine day, Sister,’ he insisted. ‘The ground will be hard after the frost, which makes for good walking – better than slipping and sliding on ice and mud. We should enjoy a full day’s walking if we set off soon,’ he added, as he wiped his plate with a slice of toast and downed his tea.

Sister Mary Paul presented them with several greaseproof packages. ‘There’s some cheese-and-pickle sandwiches and a Thermos of hot tea: that should keep the pair of you going until you get down from the fells. And I’ll keep your dinners warming in the Aga – it would be a terrible shame to miss Christmas dinner.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ Ada said, as she rose to give the old nun a big hug. ‘We’ll survive till dinner-time on your picnic and we’ll be down before it goes dark.’

‘You’d better be, or I’ll have the mountain-rescue team out looking for you,’ Sister Mary Paul threatened.

As Jamie and Ada drove away from Mary Vale, Zelda was pushing Constanza’s pram into the Arkwrights’ farmyard, where father and son greeted her with smiles of pleasure.

‘Hello there,’ Alf exclaimed.

Zelda gave a bright smile. ‘I thought I’d drop by with Constanza to wish you both a Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas to you too,’ Alf replied warmly. ‘How is the little lass?’ he enquired as he peered into the pram, where the baby lay peacefully sleeping. ‘My, she’s growing proper fast, right enough,’ he enthused.

Frank also fondly peered into the pram. ‘Sleeping like an angel,’ he whispered. Still smiling, Frank turned to Zelda. ‘I were just leaving to walk down to the bottom field to check on the sheep – fancy stretching your legs and coming with me?’

Zelda looked uncertainly at her sleeping daughter. ‘I’ll keep an eye on the babby,’ Alf kindly volunteered.

‘Are you sure?’ Zelda asked.

‘Aye, as long as she doesn’t need feeding,’ Alf joked.

‘I fed her just before I left Mary Vale, so she should be fine for another few hours,’ Zelda explained.

‘Well, then, off you go, enjoy your walk,’ Alf urged. ‘Get back in time to walk over to Mary Vale for Christmas dinner,’ he reminded them with a chuckle. ‘I can almost smell Sister Mary Paul’s dinner roasting in the oven.’

Zelda gave the old man a grateful smile, then set off at a brisk pace with Frank, whose long legs were twice the length of hers. Breathing in mouthfuls of cold fresh air, Zelda smiled as she climbed over the stile that led into the fields skirting the edge of Cartmel Fell. Catching her breath, she chatted to Frank. ‘I feel like I’ve been indoors for too long,’ she admitted. ‘The only time I go out these days is when I push Constanza’s pram to the garden shed.’

Frank smiled at her flushed pink cheeks and bright sparkling eyes. ‘You’ve had your hands full recently,’ he conceded.

‘What are you going to do with the sheep?’ she asked, as she all but ran to keep up with him.

‘Just checking how they’re getting on,’ he told her. ‘We need to keep an eye on them, as they’ll be lambing soon; then we’ll have to bring them into the barn.’

Looking around at the beautiful landscape of wild forest and rolling green hills that steadily rose to meet the higher, more majestic peaks of the Lake District, Zelda asked something she had been curious about for some time. ‘There aren’t many farms around here, apart from yours – do you ever get lonely?’

Frank shook his head. ‘There’s barely time to get lonely on a farm,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got friends in the area, but they’re presently away fighting. It’s only the likes of me who’s been signed off,’ he said flatly.

An indignant light flashed in Zelda’s eyes. ‘You’ve done your bit,’ she exclaimed protectively. ‘You can’t possibly be thinking of wanting to return to the Front?’ she hotly demanded.

Seeing her face, usually so sweet and calm but now inflamed with passion, Frank couldn’t stop himself from bursting out laughing. ‘It’s me that should be angry with the situation, not you, lass,’ he soothed.

‘War makes me angry,’ she blurted out.

‘Aye,’ he agreed, before changing the subject. Wanting to see her smiling again, Frank said, ‘So what are your plans for the future, now that you’ve got a kiddie?’

‘I have to admit I’ve been asking myself that same question,’ Zelda replied.

Turning her eyes towards the hills and mountains that had become so familiar to her and that she had learnt to love over the months she had lived at Mary Vale, she said thoughtfully, ‘I’ve found peace and happiness in this beautiful valley.’

Catching the emotion in her gentle voice and seeing the tears welling up in her large dark eyes, Frank’s heart ached for the brave little woman standing before him. ‘I’d like my little girl to grow up here,’ Zelda added wistfully.

Frank gave a gruff cough. ‘It’s a grand place to bring up kiddies: plenty of space to run around, trees to climb, mountains to walk. Little Constanza would do well to grow up in this valley.’

Zelda gave a helpless shrug. ‘I agree with you, Frank, but I’m not sure how it could possibly be achieved. I mean, how would I make ends meet, what would I live on?’

‘Don’t be so daft, lass,’ he smiled. ‘You’ve got your market garden and your tonics and ointments. I’m sure you could make a go of things.’

‘I doubt it,’ Zelda replied.

‘Why not give it a go?’ he urged. ‘You stand a better chance of making a go of things in an area where you’re already well established than moving to a strange town where you don’t have any friends.’

‘I can’t deny that’s a good point,’ she agreed.

Determined to push the idea home, Frank quickly added, ‘There are cottages in the valley that sometimes come up for rent; they might need a bit of patching up, but between us Dad and I could sort that out for you. Neither of us would like to see you and the little lass go,’ he concluded in a rush.

Zelda smothered a cry of astonishment. In all her wildest dreams she had never imagined that Frank or Alf would miss her! Moved by his kind offer to help, she was momentarily lost for words. Luckily the loud noise of bleating sheep claimed Frank’s attention, and for the next half-hour they were both fully occupied with herding the sheep into a fold, where Frank was able to examine them one by one. Finally satisfied, Frank guided Zelda out of the fold, with the sheep bleating plaintively after them.

‘Dad will have a fit if we’re late for Mary Vale’s slap-up Christmas dinner,’ Frank said, smiling. ‘He’s supplied most of the grub.’

Zelda checked her watch and quickened her pace. ‘Constanza will be waking up any time now,’ she announced.

Amused at the thought of his dad handling a hungry baby, Frank chuckled low in his throat. ‘Another good reason why Dad might have a fit!’