A Scent of Lavender. Elizabeth Elgin

because anything to do with the war or the church, anything remotely authoritative, warranted the wearing of the uniform.

      ‘My dear.’ Nance was a big woman and puffed a little, on occasions. ‘Can we sit down? The garden, maybe? We won’t be overheard?’

      ‘The garden it is. And there’ll be no one listening.’ The garden of Ladybower House was overlooked by Dickon’s Wood, and completely shut off. ‘But whatever is the matter? It seems urgent.’

      ‘It is, in a way. The thing is, Lorna, how many bedrooms have you got?’

      ‘Five. You know we have.’

      ‘Yes! But how many available? You’ve cleared the attics, haven’t you?’

      ‘Of course. As soon as the government said we had to.’ And the directive had made sense, Lorna supposed. Any room built into the roof space of any house was to be emptied immediately, because of the risk of fire bombs. Nasty things, fire bombs. They pierced roofs then burned fiercely and it wouldn’t have been a lot of use having to clear a way through years of clutter to get to the thing and put it out with sand. ‘We threw a lot of rubbish away, but what was left is stowed away in the small bedroom.’

      ‘Which virtually means you have two bedrooms only?’

      ‘I suppose so, but why do you ask?’ Nance was putting words into her mouth; that she had only one spare bedroom. ‘I mean, are you billeting again? Are you looking for places for evacuees?’ Lorna felt uneasy.

      ‘Not at the moment, though the way things are with the war, I soon will be, nothing is more certain!’

      When war broke out, children had been evacuated from towns which would almost certainly be bombed. A straggle of children had walked around Nun Ainsty, labels on coats, possessions in brown paper bags. It had been Nance Ellery’s job to help the Billeting Officer find homes for them, Lorna recalled. She and William had been landed with four, and William had hated it. William and Lorna had no children of their own, nor were any planned in the near future, and William took exception to other people’s being thrust upon his peace and privacy. That they had quickly returned to Leeds and Manchester had been a relief, and her otherwise patriotic husband said he would set the dogs on the next Billeting Officer who showed her face at Ladybower’s door – if they’d had dogs, that was!

      ‘So it’s children again?’ Lorna was clearly worried.

      ‘Not just yet, and if you’re clever you can fill that spare room with an adult who’ll be no trouble, and company for you now that William’s away. A female, of course.’

      ‘W-what kind of a female?’

      ‘A female for Glebe Farm. A land girl.’

      ‘A woman at Glebe Farm?’ Kate Wintersgill wouldn’t take kindly to that! ‘Are you sure they need a land girl? Can’t Bob and Rowley manage?’

      ‘Seems not. They want more help. And it would be better for the woman to live elsewhere, and Kate knows it. Well you would, I mean, with a son with only one thing on his mind, if what I hear is to be believed!’

      ‘His mind? Rowley? What on his mind?’

      ‘You know full well what I mean! Young Rowley isn’t to be trusted when it comes to women. There’s no way I could stand by and see one exposed to him! And his mother knows it!’

      ‘But a land girl would be working there during the day, Nance …’

      ‘Then let’s hope she carries a pitch fork around with her, that’s all I can say. Anyway, Kate has agreed to a female worker, but not to sleep in. I’m asking you to take her, Lorna. Can you do it? It’s either her, or yelling kids.’

      ‘We-e-ll – I’m not sure. If William were here, you see …’

      ‘If William were here he’d say yes, you know he would. And there’ll be a billeting allowance of fourteen shillings a week and she’ll bring her own rations with her from the hostel.’

      ‘Hostel? The one at Meltonby? Then why can’t she stay there, like all the other land girls round these parts?’

      ‘Because the hostel is full to bursting. Now, are you going to take her or not? And before you answer, remember that this is a tiny place at the end of a lane, and if Hitler did decide to invade, he’ll probably never even find it! But there’s a real war going on at the top of that lane, and it’s fast catching up with us!’

      ‘I know it is, Nance. William went to join it, this morning.’

      ‘Sorry, my dear. You’ll be feeling cut up. Shouldn’t have sprung this on you so soon after, but it’s got to be today.’

      ‘Why has it?’

      ‘Because I’ve got to find her a billet and I thought about you – so will you take her?’

      ‘But when will she be coming? The bed isn’t made up. And will she keep decent hours – not come in late, or be noisy?’

      And take over the bathroom and want to have her boyfriends in? Or would she be common, or swear? Taking another woman into your house, Lorna frowned, wasn’t something to be decided in half an hour!

      ‘She can make up her own bed, and I’m sure she’ll respect your home. If I were you, m’dear, I’d lay down house rules the minute she arrives. That way, you’ll both know where you stand.’

      ‘Arrives? You’ve decided then, Nance? Do I have a choice?’

      ‘Entirely up to you, but she’ll be the lesser of two evils. The way things are going with the war, the air raids are going to start, mark my words, then they’ll be closing city schools and evacuating the children again. And you know William doesn’t like other people’s children.’

      ‘William isn’t here to object!’

      ‘No. But if he knew …’

      ‘I know! He’d tell me to take the woman in.’

      ‘That’s settled, then! Mind if I use your phone – tell the warden at the hostel that Miss Nightingale can come?’

      ‘Be my guest. You know where it is.’

      She knew when she was beaten, and even as she heard Nance Ellery ask for the Meltonby number, Lorna found herself wondering if her new lodger’s name would be Florence. Just to think of it made her want to giggle hysterically.

      

      The land girl was not in the least bit Florence Nightingal-ish. She was, in spite of the pale blue shirt and overalls she wore, strikingly beautiful.

      ‘Is this Ladybower House, and are you Mrs Hathaway?’

      ‘Hatherwood.’ Lorna held out a hand. ‘And your name isn’t Florence – is it?’

      ‘Nah! Though a lot of people call me Flo! Actually, me Nan wanted me to be called Ariadne. “They’ll never shorten that to Flo,” she said. But me Mam hit the roof and said I’d have trouble for the rest of me life with a name like Ariadne and said it was to be Agnes, after me auntie. So if you don’t mind it’s either Ness or Flo.’

      ‘Will Ness do?’ Lorna smiled.

      ‘Smashin’. Now, mind if I leave these cases? There’s a couple more I’ll have to go back for. You’d be surprised how much kit they give you.’

      ‘It’s a long way. Surely you didn’t walk?’

      ‘Nah! They gave me a bike. It’s at your front gate. Won’t be long.’

      ‘I’ll be making tea at three-thirty, Ness. That should give you enough time, there and back.’

      Ness Nightingale. Lorna stood at the gate and watched her go. Hair black as the night, eyes dark and mischievous, and the loveliest smile you ever did see. Maybe it would turn out all right. Maybe she and Miss Nightingale – Ness – would be able to get along