Letters To Alice. Rosie James

      ‘Same here,’ Fay said. ‘Wouldn’t want to. I like town, meself… Clifton Downs are enough country for me! Always plenty of space, and little cosy hidey places if you need them.’ She nudged Alice. ‘Know wha’ I mean?’

      She turned to glance at Eve. ‘How about you, Eve? Is any of this familiar to you?’

      As usual, Eve waited before answering – as if she was weighing every word. Then – ‘I come from Bath, so we’ve got plenty of countryside of our own…like this…but I don’t recognize where we are, I’m afraid.’

      Alice smiled along at her. ‘It must be nice and quiet, living in Bath,’ she said. Even though Bath was a mere twelve miles or so from Bristol, it had not had a single raid. Nor was one expected.

      It was late afternoon before the bus arrived at its last port of call, and there were just the three of them left now, still sitting there in the back. As they leaned forward to stare out, they could see a large cluster of farm buildings in the near distance, spread out behind a wide wooden gate fencing in some brown cows. A black and white sheepdog was on watch, wagging its tail, and two Jack Russell terriers, silent and alert.

      Iris got out first, and the others followed. ‘Right then,’ Iris said. ‘You’re the last – but not least, I’m sure…so, we have Eve Miles, Fay Reynolds and Alice Watts. Right?’

      The girls nodded. ‘Good, thank heaven I haven’t got one over, or one missing! So that’s my lot for today.’ Iris was obviously relieved. ‘Come with me and I’ll introduce you.’

      The girls followed, lugging their suitcases. Eve wrinkled her nose.

      ‘Oh dear, what a nasty smell,’ she said quietly.

      ‘That’s cow shit, luvver. Or manure, if you prefer,’ Fay informed her cheerily. ‘We’d better get used to it I suppose.’

      The place was called Home Farm and after Iris had left, Mabel Foulkes, the farmer’s wife – an overweight, affable woman – took the three girls upstairs to the room which they were to share.

      It was long, the bare wooden floorboards creaking under their feet. It felt a bit stuffy despite the two windows wide open at each end. There were three single beds more or less next to each other, each with two pillows, and covered with a patchwork quilt. A couple of cupboards stood against the wall, and on a solid-looking steel-legged table was a huge jug standing in a bowl, with a large enamel bucket on the floor beneath. On the wall was a faded mirror.

      ‘We’ll bring hot water up for you every morning and at night,’ Mabel said, ‘and the lavatory’s outside next to the scullery. There’s also another one down the garden, right at the end past the cabbages. You can’t miss it.’

      There was a moment’s pause.

      ‘There’s no bathroom, Mrs. Foulkes…?’ Eve said faintly.

      ‘Oh no, my luvver! Well, not as such…but don’t you worry, there’s a guzunder under your beds if you need to go in the night, and for bathin’ we all use the hip baths in the kitchen. They’re OK – even if it does mean knees up to chins!’ She mopped her brow. ‘But mostly the men just stand in the sink by the pump in the yard! Especially when it’s hot! But don’t worry – you won’t be asked to do that! Just say when you wanna bath and the kitchen’ll be all yours! It’ll be helpful if you could make it later in the day,’ she added, ‘when all the work’s finished. OK?’ Her hands on her hips, she smiled at them kindly. ‘Breakfast for you will be 5.30, down in the kitchen, lunch in the fields if you’re workin’ there – I’ll bring out flasks of tea. Or if there’s a lull, you can have it in the kitchen, a’course. And supper’s usually about 7.30.’

      She turned to go, then looked back at the girls. ‘Sorry my husband wasn’t here when you arrived – ’ ’ee’s up yonder, hay-makin’ with our son – Roger. They’ll be down presently. Now, you get unpacked and I’ll put the kettle on for a nice cup a’ tea. I expect you could do with one.’

      That was putting it mildly. They’d had very little refreshment on the journey, stopping only a couple of times for a break and cold drinks.

      For a few moments there was complete silence, then Fay went across and opened the doors of the cupboards. On the shelves were a couple of piles of towels.

      ‘Hm. Well, good thing I didn’t bother to pack me evenin’ dresses,’ she said lightly. ‘But I s’pose there’s enough space here for what we want.’ Without taking off her sandals, she flung herself down on the bed nearest the door and grimaced.

      ‘Bloody ’ell! This is solid concrete if you d’ask me!’ She tried to bounce on the unyielding mattress. ‘I doubt if we’ll get even a wink of sleep, God ’elp us.’ She sat up and bent down to reach for her handbag on the floor beside her, took out a packet of Player’s Please and a box of matches. She glanced up at the others. ‘If I don’t have a fag soon, I’m gonna go bloody mad.’ She lit up, then flopped back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, inhaling, and blowing out smoke like a steam train.

      Eve gave a slight little cough – and Fay threw the cigarettes and the matches across onto the bed Eve was sitting on the edge of. ‘Fancy a drag, Eve? Be my guest…at least these aren’t rationed!’ She took another deep drag. ‘I was desperate for one on the bus but it was so hot and stuffy I didn’t like to.’

      ‘I don’t smoke, actually,’ Eve said, rather primly.

      Alice looked across at her thoughtfully. Of the three of them, Eve seemed the most unlikely candidate for the war job that had been allotted them.

      ‘You don’t know what ya’ missin’ – you should try it!’ Fay told her. ‘Fags keep you going, they’re good for you!’ She inhaled again deeply, and coughed. ‘I’ve just donated a coupla’ boxes of Woodbines to the Red Cross for the parcels they send to our soldiers. See – ciggies are helping us win the war!’

      Alice sat down gingerly on the bed next to her. And had to agree with Fay. It was rock-hard.

      For a few moments no one said anything, each privately weighing up the present situation. And it was a weird one, Alice thought. For the foreseeable future the three of them – complete strangers – were going to be thrown together, sharing everything – including their bedroom. Alice had only ever shared with her mother before.

      And what if they didn’t get on together? Didn’t like each other? Fall-outs and unpleasantness would be terrible, make everything so much worse than it need be. She glanced briefly at the others as her thoughts ran on…she felt certain that Fay was going to be easy company, but Eve was a different kettle of fish. For one thing, she’d turned up dressed as if she was going to a garden party instead of embarking on life in a farmyard! She had a precious way of speaking, with an aloofness about her which was a bit off-putting, her whole manner suggesting that she was far too good for present company. Alice shrugged inwardly. Whatever lay ahead, they’d just have to make the best of it.

      Presently, Eve was the first to start unpacking. Very carefully. After taking out some of her personal items which were on the top and putting them in a neat pile, she began to lay out her uniform. Breeches, fawn shirt, long woollen socks. She glanced up at the others, holding up the green V-neck pullover. ‘Are we expected to wear all this? In this heat?’ Adding, rather petulantly – ‘Why can’t we just wear our dresses?’

      Fay opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, then thought better of it and got off the bed and began to unpack as well. She flung everything out all around her on the bed, then stuck the regulation cowboy hat on her head at a jaunty angle. ‘D’you think this suits me? Will I get off with someone when I wear it if we go out?’ She went over to the mirror and groaned. ‘No, it doesn’t and I won’t. It’s ’orrible.’ Then, impulsively, she slipped off her dress and thrust her legs into the corduroy breeches, her feet into her pair of thick brown brogues. And started jigging around.

      ‘Come on – this calls for the Hokey Cokey!’