SIX

Jack had shown Grace how to start the milk lorry, how to turn off the engine, and had quickly explained gear changes. There had been no time to do much more than allow her to guide the vehicle along a fairly straight part of the road. Faced, however, with the current situation, she started the engine with shaking hands and managed to grind into first gear. Unsure how to get into any higher gear, she had dashed away the tears that had begun to fall, sent Esau a tremulous smile, and concentrated on getting back to the Court.

Later, she was to think what a funny sight the lorry must have been as it crept stumblingly along. But right now, all she could think of was Harry. What had happened to him? Could any local farm worker hate so much that he would set out to injure or kill a man whose principles were different from his own?

A loud sob escaped her and old Esau reached out and patted her left hand, as she clutched the steering wheel as if her life depended on it. ‘There, there, Grace. There’s always a bit of a fight at a dance, but it’s never serious.’

Grace tried to smile at him but could not. Esau had not seen the slight, still form of Harry on the ground. Harry, a bus conductor, who loved his new job out in the fresh air, a man of little formal education who revelled in working every day with a university student, and in learning from him. Did he know that the others learned from him, too?

‘Look out!’ Esau’s yell of pure fright startled Grace. She was horrified to see that she had wandered over to the middle of the narrow country road and in the path of a car travelling quickly and heading straight for her. The driver swerved and scraped past her. No, surely not. But, yes, the driver of the speeding car was Lady Alice.

Grace stole a quick look at Esau but his face gave nothing away.

Afraid that she would ruin the engine if she were to try to go faster, Grace steered the lorry over to the correct side of the road and carried on. At long last, they were driving through the open gates of Whitefields Court.

A few lights shone from the windows of the great house and Grace carried on to the kitchen door. By the time she had parked, Mrs Love was at the door.

‘Are you all right, Grace?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Sit down, the pair of you. I’ll make tea.’ She turned towards the stove and moved a pot of milk onto a hotplate. ‘Esau, her ladyship says you’re to stay here tonight, in case anyone should need to speak to you. I’ve put pyjamas in the big room where Harry and Jack are sleeping but you’ll both need to stay up until her ladyship returns.’

Neither Grace nor Esau seemed capable of saying a word but sat near the stove, as if they needed warmth, sipping the tea and staring into space.

‘Maybe you should get off to bed, Esau.’

He shook his head.

‘You should go, Mrs Love. You need to be up so early.’ Grace had seen the cook stifling a yawn.

‘Lady Alice will come here to tell me what is happening. If Mr McManus needs to take to his bed, it’s me that will care for him.’

Grace sincerely hoped that all Harry would need was a few days of recuperation in the capable hands of Mrs Love but, when she closed her eyes, she a that spreading pool of blood. ‘Damn it, we’re at war with Germany and we spend our time fighting one another. It’s so stupid.’

‘Take your bad temper out of my kitchen, Grace. We don’t need a land girl losing control.’

Grace’s mumbled apology was lost in the sound of a car’s arrival.

A few minutes later, Lady Alice walked in, followed by Jack. ‘Harry has a severe head injury and is in the local hospital, where he’ll receive excellent care. You, Esau, and you, Grace, should be in your beds. The cows don’t care if you get no sleep but I do. Go, now.’

Esau and Grace stood up but Grace looked over at Jack who, apart from a few bruises on his face, seemed to have no serious injury. She made as though to move towards him but Lady Alice had not finished speaking.

‘Is there water for a hot bath, Jessie?’

Being pleased with the affirmative answer, she turned back to Jack. ‘A hot bath and then bed, Jack. Mrs Love will bring you hot cocoa. Jack needs rest, Grace. You can console him tomorrow. It’s possible the police will want to talk to you; highly unlikely but one never knows. Now go to bed.’

Her voice was firm but kind. There was no anger in it, no evidence of dislike. For the first time since the trouble had started, Grace relaxed. She had no idea how to get out of the room. Was she supposed to just walk out or …?

Esau had walked slowly to the door. He turned. ‘Thank you, Jessie. Good night, m’lady.’

‘Sleep well, Esau.’

Grace muttered ‘Good night’ in the general direction of the few people still clustered near the table and, with head bent so as to not to meet anyone’s eyes, she hurried out after Esau.

The police did not want to speak to Grace. They had spoken to several people present at the dance and had questioned Jack intensively. They had also taken two local farm workers into custody. Grace’s testimony was not needed.

She had slept fitfully and was up before her alarm sounded. She washed and dressed and hurried downstairs. Mrs Love, Hazel, Walter, Esau and Jack were in the kitchen, drinking tea.

‘Get yourself some tea, Grace,’ said Walter Green, the head dairyman. ‘Her ladyship’s busy and so I’ll help you with the milking, but her ladyship will drive.’

Grace glanced across at Jack. He too looked as if he hadn’t slept and was so pale that the bruises on his face stood out like bright badges, but there was an air of suppressed excitement about him.

‘Are you all right, Jack? We could visit Harry this afternoon.’

He looked round as if to see who might overhear him. ‘I wish I could, Grace, but …’ He stopped talking and lifted the heavy teapot to pour her some tea. ‘His lordship’s on his way up and I’m to make myself available, so I can’t leave the estate.’

‘But we’re allowed Sunday afternoon, and what does the earl want? You’ve done nothing wrong. He can’t want to get rid of you. You work hard; everybody likes you. I like you,’ she finished, embarrassed by her confession.

He made a sound, almost a groan, but said nothing.

Walter spoke loudly: ‘Hello, anyone here as knows how to milk a cow?’

‘Sorry, Walter, I’m coming,’ said Grace, swallowing as much of her tea as she could but, as she hurried to the milking parlour, all she could hear was her own voice echoing in her head: ‘I like you.’

How could I? How could I? He probably thinks I’m fast.

She was thoroughly miserable by the time the cows had been milked and taken down to the pasture. For once, she saw no newly opened flowers, no fresh blossom. Two of her cows had kicked over their milk pails, sending the warm fresh milk running like a white river down the middle of the byre and out into the mud on the yard. Walter had been sympathetic over the first loss – after all, the particular cow was known to be troublesome – but the second spillage infuriated him.

‘Would serve you right if they docked your wages. Keep your mind on the work you’re paid to do, and stop upsetting my cows.’

It was unjust and if she had been able to run to some quiet corner, she would have wept, but she managed to pull herself together and apologise.

‘Ach, well, maybe it wasn’t all your fault. Even Bluebell can be a right bugger if she sets her mind to it.’

They had been on better terms when they walked back to the house for breakfast, although Grace could manage to eat very little.

‘Starving yourself is not doing Harry any good, Grace. At least eat some porridge. Half a bowl,’ said Mrs Love, setting it down in front of her, ‘or I’ll tell her ladyship.’

Grace could see no conceivable reason for Lady Alice to care how much or how little she ate but she succeeded in finishing the porridge.

Lady Alice was waiting outside the byre and was talking to Walter. ‘There you are, Grace. My God, girl, it was you who almost drove me off the road last night. Terrific timing, I must say.’

Grace said nothing but settled herself in the lorry.

‘Remind me, Grace, you did say you could ride a bike?’

‘Yes, Lady Alice.’

‘Mrs Hazel will lend you hers for a week or two.’ She smiled. ‘You are so transparent, Grace. Colour came back into your cheeks. I’m glad you’re so worried about Harry. I rang the hospital earlier – he’s had a reasonable night – and they’ll let you in for two minutes, possibly ten.’

‘Thank you, Lady Alice.’ She took her courage and asked, ‘They’re not in trouble, Jack and Harry? Some of the village men were horrible; said they didn’t want conscientious objectors here.’

‘Drink talks loudly, Grace.’

‘One of them, he meant it.’

‘The one who manhandled you, Arnold Archer, is in custody, and he’ll sweat his anger out, believe me. A few days in gaol will do him the world of good.’

‘A few days—’ began Grace angrily, but Lady Alice interrupted.

‘No one is the least interested in what happened to you, Grace, since nothing happened. It’s unlikely that he’s the one who knocked down Harry, and so he’ll be incarcerated for a few days and will then go back to his wife, feeling extremely sorry for himself. I suggest that you grow a thicker skin. It happens, in one way or another, to all of us. A brooch pin is the most useful thing to have in your bag. Now, let us deliver the milk.’

Two hours later, they were back at Whitefields Court. Lady Alice parked near the dairy and, leaving the keys of the lorry with Walter, walked back to the house with Grace.

‘There’s the bicycle. Looks rather large for you but perhaps you’ll manage.’ She looked questioningly at Grace.

‘I learned on a big bike.’

‘Good. Jessie will give you directions to the hospital and she’ll find something for you to take to Harry. I sincerely hope he’s well enough to enjoy it. I know you are entitled to the afternoon off but I’d like to see you in the main house around four. Can you be back by then?’

‘Yes, Lady Alice.’

‘Good, there’s such a lot to discuss. Enjoy Sunday lunch.’

She walked off and Grace stood for a moment, looking after her before entering the house through the back door.

All the farm workers – except Harry, of course – were already gathered around the table. A blue vase full of brilliant-red tulips stood in the middle of the table. From the long flat pot on the stove came a mouth-watering smell that Grace did not recognise.

‘Trout,’ said Mrs Love. ‘A gift, and we won’t ask who from. There’s new potatoes and fresh spring greens to go with.’

Grace sat down in her usual seat and tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid Jack’s eyes.

‘Ever had trout, Grace?’ It was Jack who had asked.

She kept her eyes on the plate. ‘No, cod sometimes, or haddock.’

‘How’d the delivery go?’

‘Same as every day,’ Grace said, and applied herself to her portion of fish.

‘Why are you angry?’

‘I’m not.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Or perhaps I am – at this whole situation.’

Mrs Love was now getting angry. ‘I’d be grateful if my hard work producing decent meals was appreciated, instead of seeing them left to grow cold while some of you chat. One of the local men has fishing rights on a stretch of river and he thought these might cheer us all up.’

‘Delicious, Jessie.’

‘Really tasty, Mrs Love.’

Compliments came from all sides and, somewhat mollified, Mrs Love returned to stirring her custard.

‘I like you, too, Grace.’ Jack’s pleasant voice was too quiet for any of the others to hear.

She blushed, a delicate pink, and ate some of the trout. ‘My new favourite fish.’

‘Mine too.’

There was no more chatting until the custard, served with a spoonful of last year’s strawberry jam, had been finished. The men, their tongues loosened by the tasty meal, began to discuss the happenings of the night before. Mrs Love had told them as much as she knew of Harry’s condition and they were all concerned.

‘Grace is cycling in to visit, this afternoon, aren’t you, Grace?’ she said. ‘She’ll have news for us at teatime. As soon as he’s on the mend, we’ll all have a chance of seeing him. And now, Hazel would like a word.’

Hazel drained his tea cup and then looked around at the assembled workers. ‘I have to tell you, his lordship drove up this morning and he is not pleased. There will be changes made, no doubt but, I’m sure, if we all carry on doing our duty—’

Three voices interrupted him, each saying more or less the same thing.

‘We’re not responsible for last night.’

‘Quiet, quiet.’ Hazel spoke quietly but everyone stopped talking and looked at him. ‘If anyone’s responsible, it’s me for not keeping a better eye on everyone. There’s not an ounce of malice in Harry and so I’ll tell his lordship.’

‘I was sitting with him, Hazel. I shouldn’t have let him go outside on his own,’ Jack piped up.

‘He’s a grown man, lad, not a child. And Esau tells me he didn’t have that much.’

Hearing that, Grace looked down at the table, fearful of being asked to speak. Had they not all said that Harry had been a little careless?’

‘Well, Dr Williams?’ Hazel said to Jack.

‘He drank two bottles of beer. I never saw him with a bottle or a glass in his hand the rest of the evening: he was interested in the music.’

‘So them from the village that says he was drinking all evening is telling lies? Grace?’

‘I honestly don’t know. I’m sorry. I never saw him after that nasty Mr Archer hauled me on to the dance floor. He certainly wasn’t sober – I could smell it; and he said the locals didn’t want anything to do with conchies. And he was out there when Esau and I ran out.’

‘You’d best get ready to visit the hospital, Grace; and, Jack, I’ll be walking you to the estate office. His lordship wants a word with you.’

‘Am I the only one getting time off?’ asked Grace, as the others prepared to return to work.

‘There’s a war on, lass, and animals still need feeding,’ Walter said, with a laugh. ‘We’re going to lie in bed all day when the new land girls come. Now away to see Harry. Jessie’ll keep you some tea if you’re late.’

Grace returned to her room, looked longingly at the bed, and then went to the bathroom to freshen up. How she hated confrontation and, more than that, she was heart sore that she had had no real chance to speak to Jack. She wished she had not told him that she liked him. He was a university student. He was probably laughing at her.

She pinched her cheeks in the forlorn hope of putting some colour into them and ran down the wide staircase.

Jack was standing just inside the door. ‘Mrs Love says you’re to give this chocolate to Harry.’

‘Thank you.’

They stood silently for a moment, until Jack turned to leave. ‘Did you hear what I said, Miss Paterson?’ he said, and then, to her great surprise, he kissed her. His lips landed half on her lips and half on her face.

‘I’ll do better next time,’ he said, and hurried out.