Whisper on the Wind (31 page)

‘It’s
what
?’ Marvellous, did she say? The girl was enjoying it when no one should decently enjoy even a minute of this war. ‘You surprise me, Kath Allen; you really do!’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean marvellous – not
that
way.’ She felt her cheeks redden. ‘What I really meant was how much I’ve learned. I drive the small tractor, now, and I can harness a horse
and
milk a cow. By hand, Aunt Min. The milking machine broke down so we all set-to and hand-milked the whole herd. It didn’t take me long to learn.

‘And it’s all so lovely, now. You wouldn’t believe how green everything is, and the hedges are white-over with May blossom. The beauty of it just takes your breath away.’ She stopped, realizing she had said too much and suddenly not caring.

‘Does it, now?’ Lips pursed, forehead creased, the older woman concentrated on the counting of the stitches on her needle.

‘Oh,
yes.
And everybody in the village is so nice; I know them all, now. Roz and I deliver the milk, you see, and Alderby is such a little place that everyone knows everyone else.’

‘Do they, now?’ The counting was finished. Time to dwell on a place so small that everybody knew everybody else’s business. My, but that wouldn’t do for Minnie Jepson. It wouldn’t do at all.

She lifted her head to meet the blue eyes of her nephew’s wife, gazing at her unblinking, wondering what had come over the usually pale, quiet girl Barney had married. Sitting on the chair opposite – and there was no denying it – was a very different young woman from the one who’d crept away wearing breeches, a daft hat and a worried expression. Here was a slimmer, bonnier, more confident woman; one who answered back sometimes, and seemed to be managing very nicely up there in the wilds of Yorkshire. It wouldn’t do; it wouldn’t do at all, and what was more she’d be failing in her duty to the soldier serving King and Country if she didn’t tell him about it in her very next letter.

‘Anything wrong, Aunt Min?’

‘N-no. Nothing wrong, exactly, ’cept that you’ve changed, Kath Allen. My word, but you’ve changed.’

And in Minnie Jepson’s considered opinion, not for the better, either!

Afternoon milking was over and Roz had almost finished cleaning out when a step in the doorway caused her to turn.

‘Jonty – hullo,’ she offered, cheeks flushing.

‘Just wanted a quick word about the pigs.’ He smiled. ‘The litter is going to market on Monday – want to pick a couple out?’

Pigs. She had so much wanted two of her own, yet now –

‘Oh, yes – well – I’ve been thinking about it as a matter of fact, and –’

‘Don’t worry about paying, Roz. I didn’t give you anything for your birthday so they’ll be a present – a sort of friends-again present.’

‘But that’s just it.’ He was smiling at her; smiling indulgently as if nothing had changed between them and he mustn’t do that. Jonty must accept the way things were, now. ‘I don’t think Gran was all that keen, really. The doghouses are a bit near the kitchen, come to think of it …’

Jonty – please understand. It’s different, now. It’s Paul I love. Only Paul – ever
…

‘Okay. Keep them at Home Farm with our bacon pigs. I’ll mark them so you’ll know which are yours.’

He took off his glasses, wiping away the insect that had settled there. Kath had been right, Roz fretted; without those heavy, dark frames he was almost handsome – if you liked tall men with weather-bronzed faces and blue eyes you just had to notice.

‘No, Jonty,’ she whispered to her shoes. ‘Thanks all the same, but I’m off pigs for the moment. I really am. Oh, you know me – mad keen one minute and the next it’s something else.’

‘You’re sure?’ Oh, yes, he knew her. He’d always thought he knew her better than she knew herself. Until she met the airman. ‘You can always think about it and have a couple out of the next litter, if you change your mind.’

‘No. I’m sure. They’d only be a – a
fad.
’

She had to say no. If she accepted them now she just might have to ask his help with them, his advice, sometimes. They’d always give him the excuse to come over to take a look at them and she didn’t want that, either. The nearness she had taken for granted was an embarrassment now. Kath had been right. If she’d listened to Kath, hadn’t dismissed her advice, maybe she wouldn’t be standing here now, uneasy and apprehensive, yes, and worried, too. Because she had hurt Jonty; nothing was more certain.

But only Paul mattered. Soon he would finish his tour. By the end of June, by haytime, perhaps, S-Sugar’s crew would have flown their thirtieth operation and all would come right. She would take Paul to Ridings, then, and everything could be open and above-board. Gran couldn’t say that loving someone who was aircrew was asking for heartbreak because Paul would be away from flying for a time. Maybe for a whole year there would be a tomorrow for him and for Skip and the rest of the crew.

‘All right, then.’ He was still looking at her as if she were his kid sister; still indulging her as though he’d every right to. ‘If you change your mind, you’ve only got to say so – or anything else you might want …’

‘Thanks, Jonty.’ She made great play of coiling the hose and hanging it on the wall. ‘I’ll remember. I’ve just about finished for tonight so I’ll be off, if you don’t mind. But thanks. Thanks a lot.’

She had tried to make her words impersonal and easy, but she’d sounded awkward and unnatural. Imagine feeling that way with Jonty.

‘Goodnight,’ she whispered, kicking off her gum-boots, taking her jacket from the doornail. ‘See you, then.’

Her face flamed red as she passed him, upset that she had let him make her feel this guilty, especially at a time she was already jumpy and on edge with Paul operational tonight. After four nights on stand-down, tonight was almost a certainty.

Shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, she hurried back to Ridings. If Gran said one word – just
one
word – about anything, she would blow her top. Why wasn’t Kath here when she needed someone to talk to? All right – so maybe she deserved a week off, but couldn’t it have waited? Did Mat have to insist that it be
now
?

She turned to look at the church clock. Nearly six. Kath would be well home by now, being fussed over, like as not, by Barney’s aunt and boasting how easy it was to hand-milk a cow.

‘Oh, Kath …’ Only one day gone and already she missed her. Selfish though it was, Roz wished for the week to fly past and for Kath to be back at Home Farm again.

‘
Damn
!’ She jerked as rain began to fall in large, cold drops. Well, at least Mat would be happy. Mat had been grumbling for days now, saying they were in need of it – but was there ever a farmer who didn’t grumble about rain, one way or another? But rain Roz Fairchild could do without; waiting in the rain for Paul who wouldn’t come, anyway; trudging back home in the rain, missing him, wanting him, avoiding Gran’s raised eyebrows. Then awakening to the sound of rain on her window, ears straining for the first sounds of homecoming bombers and no Kath to share the waiting and the counting with.

Oh, but this was going to be one hell of a week!

This, Kath thought miserably, would be the longest week of her life. Rain spattered against the window from a leaking gutter; rain that hadn’t stopped since the moment she stepped off the train and, to make matters worse than awful, the room was cold and the bed lumpy.

She had been mildly surprised to find she had been given the small, single room to sleep in, wondering by what right Aunt Min had moved into the bed next door. They had splashed out on that bed, Kath frowned. It had been the only concession that, come to think of it, Barney had made to married life. Now Aunt Min had taken it over just as she seemed to have taken over the rest of the house.

Without a doubt, this week would drag. Already the sight of streets and rooftops and row upon straight row of chimney stacks was beginning to make her feel hemmed in. She wanted,
needed
, the wide sky above her and to awaken to a May morning so sweet that it brought grateful tears to her eyes. She needed to be with Mat and Grace who loved each other, still; to be with the people who, in less than half a year, had become the whole of her life.

The truth must be faced. She no longer belonged in this little house. She had never belonged here. It had been a mistake to believe she ever could.

Turning restlessly, she wriggled into the depression in the middle of the mattress, wanting to be in her attic at Peacock Hey. How on earth was she to sleep when from the other side of the partition wall came the irritating sound of Aunt Min’s rhythmic, contented snores?

Kath closed her eyes tightly, her cheeks flushing red. Every smallest sound could be clearly heard through the thinness of that wall. In this very bed Barney’s mother had once lain, interpreting every movement, straining her ears for every word. And it wasn’t as if, Kath thought, she had particularly enjoyed the sharing of that bed with Barney, so why should she care who slept in it now? She only knew she was homesick already for the noise and chatter that was Peacock Hey; wished with all her heart that tomorrow her alarm would jangle her awake and she could set out for Home Farm and Roz and Jonty. She wanted to be with them and she hoped they missed her, too.

Not Marco. She did not, must not, miss Marco. When she returned to Alderby she must see to it that never again must she find herself in a position of such nearness that a lifting of her head, a tilting upward of her chin, even, placed her lips even remotely near his own.

But you enjoyed that kiss
, taunted her conscience.

All right – she’d enjoyed it. So what was she? A block of stone?

You’re a married woman, Kath Allen.

‘I’m lonely,’ she flung back silently, resentfully. ‘Barney didn’t ask to be sent away …’

Nor did a great many husbands, but their wives don’t find other men attractive; especially men who are their husbands’ enemies.

All right! So Marco just happened to find himself fighting on the wrong side.

Marco Roselli is taboo. You shouldn’t like him. You shouldn’t want him to touch you, hold you
…

Damn, damn,
damn
! Taking her pillow she shook it violently. All right – so for once she couldn’t argue with Barney’s aunt. She had changed, she wouldn’t deny it. But her whole world, her whole life had changed with the coming of a war she’d been powerless to prevent. That war had taken her man and sent him to another country; sent him there without a by-your-leave and God only knew when he was coming back. And that, if it was any of Aunt Min’s business, was why she had changed; because there had been no use sitting in this house counting the days and nights until she could be a wife again. That was why one day she had gone out in a flush of defiance and joined the Land Army; that and because she knew the war was offering her one brief flight into freedom; into a life she had dreamed of and longed for, thought could never be hers.

Well, now the dream was reality. For the first time in her life she was truly happy. She was where she belonged; where she had always known she belonged and if it had changed her then she was glad, because now she knew who she
really
was. She was Kath who was needed at Home Farm. She had thrown off her past and was her own woman for the duration of this war. There were only six more nights to spend in this uncomfortable, inhospitable bed and then she could go back to where she belonged. Only six more days of Aunt Min, then she could pack her case and go back to Peacock Hey; go
home.

How it would be when she got there she had no idea. Yes, she
did
find Marco attractive and yes, his lips had been warm, had felt good on her own. That kiss had been her first fall from grace and it would be her last. That kiss, should she let it, could be the spark that would set her heart alight and that must not be allowed to happen. She was Barney’s wife. For better for worse, till death did them part she belonged to Barney. There was no escaping it.

Viciously she slammed the flat of her hand against the wall and the rounded snorings on the other side ceased abruptly in a snort, giving way to a silence so complete that it was almost comical.

Kath closed her eyes. ‘Please God,’ she whispered, ‘let it stop raining, no matter how much Mat needs it for the potatoes. And take care of Barney, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing. And can you let this week pass quickly –
please.
’

Chin on hand Kath looked out at fields and hedges slipping past the compartment window, trying not to count the telegraph poles at the side of the track, still a little disbelieving of what she had done.

‘The overnight train, Aunt Min? No – I think it’s better to travel in the day.’ Night trains were always so crowded; best she should leave a little earlier, she said.

‘A
day
earlier, does it have to be?’

‘Afraid so. If I miss just one connection I’d be late back. Don’t want to land myself in trouble with the Forewoman.’

‘Seems to me, Kath Allen, you’re in too much of a hurry to be on your way. Your own home not good enough for you now – is that it?’

Her own home? It would never be her home. If she’d had doubts before, these past few days had done nothing at all to dispel them. Aunt Min was there to stay, for how could they ask her to leave when the war was over? Where could she go?