Poppy's War Page 14

  Just as Poppy was beginning to think she had been forgotten, Edie breezed out of the pub and thrust a half-pint mug in her hands. ‘It’s only cider, love. It’ll warm the cockles of your heart.’

  Mavis took a seat beside Poppy. ‘Are you sure it’s not alcoholic, Edie?’

  ‘Nah! They give that stuff to babies. Here’s to you, Poppy. Happy birthday.’

  Jean shivered and wrapped her cardigan around her shoulders as she sipped a glass of something dark and red. ‘Yes, happy birthday, Poppy. Here’s how.’

  Poppy had not the faintest idea what ‘here’s how’ meant, but she echoed it anyway and took a long draught of cider. It was refreshingly tangy and tasted of apples. She drained the glass. ‘Thank you all, that was lovely. Can I have another?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jean said warily.

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport,’ Edie said, laughing. She took Poppy’s glass. ‘Okay, kid. But drink it a bit slower this time.’

  Poppy felt pleasantly muzzy as she sipped her drink. Edie was telling jokes, most of which she did not get, but the others were laughing, and Poppy did her best to join in, but suddenly she began to feel very strange. She rose to her feet, but the world began to spin around her and she fell back onto the bench.

  ‘Oh heavens, she’s drunk.’ Jean leapt to her feet. ‘We’d best get her home, girls.’

  ‘Don’t look now but there’s a bloody great limo pulled up,’ Edie said in a low voice. ‘And there’s two chaps in uniform getting out. I think someone must have phoned the cops. Now we’re for it.’

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I’M PERFECTLY ALL right,’ Poppy said, rising unsteadily to her feet. She peered into the gathering gloom and for a moment she thought she must be extremely drunk. ‘It’s not the police,’ she murmured, waving frantically. ‘Guy, it’s me. Over here.’

  ‘Guy!’ Jean and Mavis spoke as one.

  ‘That’s torn it,’ Edie said gloomily. ‘The boss’s son complete with reinforcements. Bloody hell.’

  Guy strode towards them with Algy hot on his heels. Behind them, Poppy could just make out Miss Pamela and her husband. She wondered why they were staring at her and decided it must be her posh frock. She lurched towards Guy, holding out her arms. ‘It’s my birthday, Guy. Have you come to join the party?’

  ‘What’s going on here?’ he demanded. ‘Who are these people, Poppy?’

  Jean slipped her arm around Poppy’s shoulders. ‘Excuse me, Mr Carroll, but I resent your tone. We brought Poppy out to celebrate her birthday, which everyone in your house seemed to have overlooked. The poor kid would have been totally ignored but for us.’

  Guy recoiled, staring at Jean in surprise. ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’

  ‘Jean Hodge, and my friends are Edie and Mavis. We’re in the Land Army and we work for your mother.’

  ‘How do you, Miss Hodge?’ Algy said, shaking Jean’s hand. ‘You’ll have to excuse my friend; he’s a bit over-protective of young Poppy, but then she’s just a kid and she really shouldn’t be drinking alcohol, so he has got a point.’

  ‘Thanks, Algy,’ Guy said, frowning. ‘I can speak for myself.’

  ‘Guy, what on earth is going on?’ Pamela’s voice was shrill and impatient. ‘Mummy will be wondering what’s happened. She was expecting us half an hour ago and Rupert should have been tucked up in bed an hour ago.’

  ‘Rupert,’ Poppy said, smiling. ‘Where’s my boy?’

  ‘We’re coming, Pam.’ Guy took Poppy by the hand. ‘I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’m taking you home.’

  Edie stepped forward, sticking her chin out. ‘What if she don’t want to go, mister? Doesn’t she get a say in this?’

  ‘She’s drunk,’ Guy said drily. ‘I don’t think she knows where she is or what she’s doing. Come along, Poppy.’

  ‘But Guy, we were having a good time.’ Focusing on his face with difficulty, Poppy could see that he was not going to take no for an answer. ‘Oh, all right, but you’re being mean.’

  ‘That’s a good girl,’ Algy said, nodding his head and smiling. ‘You go with Guy, and I’ll stay here and see the ladies home. It’s not safe for young women to walk the country lanes alone at night.’

  ‘I never could resist a man in uniform, but I think we might be safer without you, mate,’ Edie said, chuckling. ‘Don’t let that put you off, though. Mine’s a gin and water. Make it a double seeing as how it’s turning a bit chilly.’

  Next morning Poppy woke up with a dry mouth and the hint of a headache. The beautiful silk dress was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, and as she swung her legs over the side of the bed she thought for one horrible moment that she had contracted some hideous skin disease. She stared in horror at her mottled skin, but then she remembered that it was simply gravy browning which was smudged and streaked. Gradually it was all beginning to come back to her, including the humiliating car journey home with Pamela going on and on about the evils of drink, which was a bit hypocritical coming from someone whose family drank wine at almost every meal and were not averse to a sherry or two before dinner. Poppy had made herself as small as possible in the corner of the back seat, hoping that Miss Pamela would grow tired of berating her, but Mr Pallister had also gone on and on until her head was spinning. She had taken a little comfort when Guy held her hand, giving it a squeeze as if to say everything was all right, even though she knew it was not and she hadn’t heard the last of this by a long chalk.

  She rose from the bed, taking care not to awaken Rupert who was still sleeping soundly in his cot. She crept over to take a look at him and she smiled, thinking how much he had grown since Christmas. She had to resist the temptation to pick him up and give him a cuddle, but he looked so peaceful and angelic that she let him sleep on. She went into the bathroom and closed the door. The linoleum was cold underfoot and steam filled the room as she ran her bath. It was difficult getting used to having only five inches of water to bathe in, and she was beginning to realise that living in the big house had encouraged her to take things that once would have seemed like a luxury for granted. She could barely imagine going back to a zinc tub in front of the kitchen fire, and she felt a wave of sympathy for the girls living above the stables who had to do just that every time they wanted to take a bath. She lay back, watching the gravy browning dissolve into the warm water and float to the surface forming small islands of scum. Last night had been a disaster. Guy had been awfully cross, but not with her. He had been quite sweet in the car on the way home, but he must think she was a silly child for getting drunk on two glasses of cider. She could not imagine Amy ever doing anything so stupid or undignified. She had longed for him to come home on leave, but after making such a fool of herself last evening she doubted if she could ever look him in the face again.

  Breakfast was brought upstairs by a reluctant Nancy. She dumped the tray on the table. ‘I’m only doing this because Miss Pamela insisted that Master Rupert had his boiled egg and soldiers in the nursery. Don’t think you’ll get this treatment when they’ve gone home, because you won’t.’

  Poppy said nothing. She chopped the top off Rupert’s egg with a decisive cut of the knife and dipped the finger of buttered toast into the golden yolk. He opened his mouth obediently and she gave him the bread to hold in his chubby hand.

  ‘You can give me the cold shoulder,’ Nancy hissed, ‘but Mrs Toon said you was drunk as a lord last night. Made a real show of yourself, so I heard.’

  ‘Go away, Nancy,’ Poppy said tiredly. ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘I’ll leave you alone all right. I’m going to join Olive and Violet in the munitions factory. I’ll earn several times what I get here for less work.’

  ‘Good luck then,’ Poppy said wearily.

  Nancy paused in the doorway. ‘You’ll end up scrubbing floors and washing dishes when they can’t get anyone else to work for next to nothing. Don’t think you’re one of them because you’re not. They’ll put up with you while you’re us
eful and when they don’t need you any more you’ll be out on your ear.’ She whisked out of the room, slamming the door behind her, causing Rupert to jump.

  ‘Don’t mind her,’ Poppy said with a reassuring smile. ‘She’s silly.’

  ‘More,’ Rupert said, pointing to his egg.

  Although Poppy had been dreading a further encounter, Pamela seemed to be in a hurry when she breezed into the nursery to collect Rupert. ‘We’re going to visit my motherin-law in Sherborne,’ she said, scooping him up in her arms. ‘But I want you to look after Rupert tomorrow morning. I’m having my hair done in Fairford and meeting Mummy for lunch, so I won’t be home until mid-afternoon at the earliest.’

  ‘I can’t, Miss Pamela. I have to go to school.’

  Pamela pursed her lips and frowned. ‘Bother. Mummy said you’d be willing to help look after him, and since we’re staying here for a few weeks I was counting on you.’

  ‘I’m leaving school in July.’

  ‘That’s not much use to me now, is it? I suppose I could ask one of those females who are supposed to be working the home farm, although they looked a fairly common crowd from what I saw last evening.’

  Poppy bowed her head. She was not about to argue with Miss Pamela, as she knew she would lose hands down.

  ‘Oh, well, we’ll see. Anyway, you will be here this evening, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Pamela.’

  ‘Good. You can take care of Rupert while we’re at dinner and put him to bed. Unfortunately I had to leave Nanny behind in London. The silly girl was going to enlist in the women’s army.’ She paused, setting Rupert down and seizing him by the hand as he was about to run back to Poppy. ‘And you must stop calling me Miss Pamela. It’s a relic of the past and it annoys me.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Pallister.’

  ‘And I don’t want you taking my clothes, even the old ones that I never wear any more. There’s a rumour that clothing might be rationed in the future, so leave my things alone.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Pallister.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad we had this little talk.’ Dragging Rupert behind her like a model trailing a fur coat on the catwalk, Pamela left the room.

  Poppy picked up the breakfast tray and took it downstairs to the kitchen. She knew it would be left to moulder if Nancy had any say in the matter. Mrs Toon was busy preparing Sunday lunch and Poppy could hear Nancy’s voice raised in protest as she argued with someone in the scullery. She was about to make her escape when a bell rang. Mrs Toon glanced up at the board on the wall where a light was flashing. ‘Nancy, come here. Where is that dratted girl?’

  There was the sound of scuffling in the scullery. The daily woman put her head round the door. ‘She’s gone out to fetch the eggs from the dairy, Mrs T.’

  Mrs Toon frowned. ‘Well you can’t go, Ada. It’ll have to be you, Poppy. Go and see what the mistress wants. I just don’t know how we’re going to manage when Nancy leaves. I can’t do the running up and down stairs.’

  ‘Well, don’t look at me,’ Ada said hastily. ‘My rheumatics couldn’t cope with all them stairs.’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Poppy left them discussing their ailments. She did not particularly want to see Mrs Carroll, but she might as well get it over and done with.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Poppy,’ Marina said as Poppy entered the drawing room. ‘Why aren’t you ready yet? We’re leaving for church in five minutes. Go upstairs and get your hat and coat.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Carroll.’ Poppy had forgotten that it was Sunday, but the fact that Mrs Carroll either did not know about last night or had chosen to ignore it made her feel light-headed with relief. Now all she had to do was face Guy.

  He did not accompany them to church. Jean, Edie and Mavis were in the back pew and Edie winked at her as Poppy followed Mr and Mrs Carroll up the aisle to their family pew. She suspected that the only reason she was allowed to sit with them was so that the villagers would see how well the Carrolls treated their evacuee. Hardly any of the other children attended church, although she knew that some of the younger ones went to Sunday school.

  When the congregation filed out after the service ended, Marina stopped to compliment the vicar on his sermon and Poppy stood outside to await further instructions. She had learned never to take anything for granted where Mrs Carroll was concerned.

  ‘You may walk home with the girls,’ Marina said graciously, as though bestowing a huge favour on Poppy. ‘The exercise will do you good.’ She walked briskly to the Bentley where Jackson stood to attention by the open passenger door. He winked at Poppy and she smiled. At least she had one friend at Squire’s Knapp. She heard someone call her name and she turned to see Mavis waving at her.

  ‘Hello, birthday girl. How’s the head this morning?’

  ‘It’s fine now.’

  ‘Where’s your boyfriend,’ Edie asked, chuckling. ‘He’s a bit of all right.’

  ‘If you mean Guy, he’s not my boyfriend.’

  Jean tucked Poppy’s hand in the crook of her arm. ‘Don’t take any notice of Edie, she’s teasing you. But I must say that Guy is very good-looking, and he seems very fond of you.’

  ‘Algy’s more fun,’ Edie said, hitching her gas mask case over her shoulder. ‘He’s a laugh and no mistake. We had a really good time after you’d got carted off, even though Flight Lieutenant Fenton-Jones seemed to prefer Jean’s company to mine.’

  ‘Shut up, Edie,’ Jean said, blushing. ‘Don’t make more of it than it was.’

  Edie pulled a face. ‘Hark at her; you’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Well, I tell you, Poppy, she was anybody’s after a couple of gin and tonics. It’s a pity you missed it all.’

  ‘Are you in a lot of trouble?’ Mavis asked sympathetically.

  ‘No, it’s okay.’

  Jean gave Poppy’s arm a squeeze. ‘Forget about it. I have, and I don’t suppose I’ll see Algy again. He’s spending the day with his rich aunt and meeting up with Guy at the railway station this evening. Anyway, I’m starving. I wonder what Mrs T has got for our lunch today.’

  Everyone enjoyed Mrs Toon’s rabbit pie, although Mavis demurred at first, saying that she had kept a pet rabbit when she was a girl and it would be like eating one of its relations, but eventually hunger won and she cleaned her plate like the rest of them. Poppy managed to eat most of hers although the food stuck in her throat and she was relieved when Edie offered to finish it off for her. There was bread and butter pudding for dessert, although as Jean said the search for raisins was like hunt the thimble. Mrs Toon took offence at this remark and scolded her, reminding them all that there was a war on and dried fruit was scarce and likely to be unobtainable by Christmas. She was saving what she had in the store cupboard for the Christmas cake.

  ‘Anyway, it was jolly good,’ Jean said as she left the table. ‘You’re a great cook, Mrs T, and we love you.’

  Mrs Toon flushed with pleasure. ‘Well, I do me best,’ she murmured modestly.

  ‘Anyone got any shampoo?’ Mavis asked as they wandered outside into the yard. ‘My hair feels like coconut matting.’

  ‘I’ve got a bit of Amami left,’ Edie said warily. ‘What will you give me as swops?’

  ‘Oh, never mind. I’ll use soap powder instead. I hate this war.’

  ‘What are you going to do this afternoon, Poppy?’ Jean angled her head. ‘Are you washing your hair too?’

  Poppy had just caught sight of Guy going into Goliath’s stall and suddenly her legs refused to move. ‘I’ve got homework to do. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘You can help us bring the cows for milking later on,’ Edie said, strolling across the stable yard with her hands in her pockets. ‘That’s if you want to.’

  ‘I do. I’ll be there.’ Poppy hurried off in the opposite direction. She had done her homework but now she wanted to get as far away from the house as possible. She simply could not face Guy after her humiliating experience last night. She crossed the field which had once been the deer park and found herself
at the edge of the spinney where the old oak tree spread its crooked branches. Hitching her skirt up into her knickers, she climbed the tree. The tender green leaves did not offer much cover but she did not expect anyone to come past this secluded spot, particularly on a sleepy Sunday afternoon, when only the absolutely necessary farm work would be done. From up here she had a wonderful view over the brow of the hill to the distant sea. The sky was a perfect shade of azure as if an artist had washed it with watercolour and dotted it with puffball clouds made of cotton wool. She leaned back against the trunk and thought how wonderfully peaceful it all was and how hard to imagine that they were at war. The air smelt of damp earth with a hint of a salty tang blown in on a warm westerly breeze. Silence enveloped her, interrupted once or twice by the distant call of a cuckoo deep in the woods.

  She closed her eyes and was drifting in the pleasant place between waking and sleeping when a voice below made her look down with a start.

  ‘I thought I might find you here, Poppy.’

  Peering through the branches, she saw Guy seated on Goliath’s back, and he had Romeo on a leading rein. He smiled up at her. ‘A little bird told me that you had learned to ride.’

  She nodded wordlessly.

  ‘Come down then and show me. Romeo could do with a bit of exercise.’

  ‘I’m wearing a skirt.’ It seemed an obvious statement but she could not think of anything else to say.