Whisper on the Wind. Elizabeth Elgin

about that place, haven’t you, Kath? You’d think orphanages were dens of iniquity, or something. What you’re really so miffed about is your mother having left you. That’s really your bête noire, isn’t it?’

      ‘My what?’

      ‘Your black beast, pet hate – your bugbear; just like Gran and her Germans.’

      ‘I suppose it is. And it wasn’t all that bad at the orphanage. It was just that I didn’t really belong to anybody.’

      ‘Well, you do now. You belong to Barney and to everyone at Home Farm and to me and Gran – right?’

      ‘Right.’ Kath smiled. ‘Sorry if I got a bit hot round the collar. I meant well and I’m still not going to take back one word about your telling your Gran. Just think about it, will you? She’s a lovely person; she might understand more than you think.’

      ‘I know. You could be right.’ Roz pushed open the gates then placed a kiss on Kath’s cheek. ‘It’s good to have someone to talk to and I’ll think about what you’ve said. Goodnight, Kath. Go carefully.’

      Roz wouldn’t think about it, Kath brooded as she rode along Peddlesbury Lane. She’d go on meeting Paul and telling lies about it, nothing would change; except if anything were to happen, that was. And if it did, when it did, how was she to tell her grandmother, then?

      ‘Oh, you silly, muddle-headed girl, why do I worry so about you?’ she demanded of the darkness around her. ‘Just why, will you tell me?’

      Alderby St Mary buzzed with bomb-talk. It ranged from the total destruction of RAF Peddlesbury, to ‘a lot of fuss about nothing; only one Jerry plane and all three bombs missed!’

      Polly Appleby alone was in possession of the facts for she had got them from Home Farm’s landgirl when she left the milk. Peddlesbury had been hit; two bombs on the runway but, apart from a lot of broken window panes, no one hurt. And Kath should know, since Peacock Hey was nearer to the aerodrome than Alderby.

      Polly said as much to Hester Fairchild. ‘Could have been a whole lot worse,’ she said, fastening her pinafore. ‘Kath knows all about bombing, poor lass; thought she’d be safe in the country, I shouldn’t wonder. But it only goes to show that nobody’s safe these days from them dratted bombers.’

      ‘It was only a hit-and-run,’ Hester observed mildly, ‘and this time no one was hurt. We should be thankful for small mercies. Did you know that Kathleen came to tea yesterday? A nice girl. She’ll be good for Roz. Roz needs more young company than she’s getting.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Polly frowned, filling the kettle, setting it to boil. Roz was getting more company than her grandmother supposed. Polly had thought a lot about what Arnie told her, first deciding that it was nothing at all to do with anyone, then wavering, because Roz had been gently reared and happen it would do no harm if someone were to have a word with the lass. Just a gentle reminder about – things.

      At that point she had shut out such thoughts at once. Even though it was a known fact that blood ran hotter in times of war, it wasn’t for Polly Appleby to sit in judgement on anybody’s morals. And who was to say that young Roz’s morals were in need of judging? She was surprised, therefore, to hear herself say, ‘The lass doesn’t do so badly for young company.’ She bit hard on her tongue. ‘Well, she goes to the dances with the rest of the village and –’

      Her cheeks were burning, she knew it. Mrs Fairchild was looking at her in that way, and if she wasn’t careful the cat would be out of the bag.

      ‘And, Poll?’

      ‘And nowt, ma’am,’ came the too-sharp, too-ready reply.

      ‘What do you know that I don’t – that you think I don’t know?’

      Polly turned, arms folded defensively across her middle. She had said too much.

      ‘Gossip,’ she said truculently. ‘Nowt but gossip, ma’am.’

      ‘About whom?’

      ‘I don’t like, ma’am. You know me. I don’t tittle-tattle about what’s none of my business.’

      ‘Poll, something’s troubling you and I know it’s nothing to do with Arnie.’

      ‘No. Not Arnie.’ Drat the woman and her probing.

      ‘Then let’s sit down and drink our tea and have a talk about it.’

      ‘There’s nowt worth the telling.’

      ‘Oh, but there is! You and I have known each other a long time and you only call me ma’am when you’re cross or worried. Will you pour, Poll?’

      Sighing deeply, Polly did as she was asked. There was no escaping it now. Mrs Fairchild was a deep one and she’d not rest till she knew every last word of it.

      ‘It was nowt nor summat, really, and to tell the truth it wasn’t village talk, though if Arnie knows about it happen the village knows about it, an’ all. And I suppose it’s best coming from me; best you don’t hear it second-hand.

      ‘It’s Roz, you see. Arnie said he’d seen her with an airman from Peddlesbury. Twice. And that’s all I know, ’cept that Arnie said the airman had gone on leave.’

      ‘Then Arnie might well be right,’ Hester said softly, ‘because for the past week Roz hasn’t been out at all, nights. It fits, I’m afraid. It all adds up. I’ve thought for quite some time that she’s been meeting someone, and now I know.’

      ‘Not for sure, you don’t. Not for sure, ma’am, save that Roz might’ve met the same young man twice and perhaps danced with him a time or two. But you knew about the dances.’

      ‘Of course I knew. All Alderby goes to the Friday dances. It’s the other nights we’re talking about, Poll.’

      ‘Then you’d best tackle her about it.’

      ‘How, will you tell me? Do I blunder in like an idiot, demand to know who she’s been with and what she’s doing?’

      ‘You could, though I doubt it’d get you very far. Stubborn, that one can be and we both know it. But how you’re going to do it without causing an upset, I don’t know. You’re the one who’s good at things like that; you’ll have to find a way. The lass needs to be told. She’s got to know about such things, how easy they can happen and where they can lead. She’s your lass, and it’s up to you to tell her about – well, things.’

      ‘But she’s a country-bred girl, Poll. She knows about things.’

      ‘She knows about animals and wild creatures; happen it’s high time she knew it’s much the same for folk.’

      ‘Tch!’ Hester clucked. ‘I wish we’d never brought the subject up.’

      ‘Oh, aye? Wish we’d stuck our heads in the sand and hoped it would go away, then?’

      ‘No. You’re right,’ Hester whispered, fidgeting with the chain at her neck. ‘It won’t go away. Roz is meeting someone and I know she doesn’t tell me the truth about where she is. That’s the worrying part of it; the untruths. I’ve asked where she’s going and when she’ll be in but she never gives a straight answer. I know my own granddaughter and when she’s lying to me. For all that, though, I can’t risk asking her outright – and being told more lies for my pains. That, I just couldn’t take.

      ‘So I shall leave it for the time being and hope she’ll tell me. And maybe it isn’t all that serious. Maybe she’ll have a lot of boyfriends before she meets the right one. Perhaps then she’ll tell me about him, and bring him home to meet me.’

      ‘You’re taking it very calmly I must say.’ Polly sniffed.

      ‘What other way is there? Now tell me, what did young Arnie make of the bombing, yesterday?’

      Arnie?