1 date, if available, finely chopped

Submerge the vegetable pieces in the brine and leave overnight. Drain and rinse the vegetables well, patting them dry.

Stir together the pickling spice, ginger, turmeric, and flour. Add enough vinegar to make a paste.

Heat the remaining vinegar and dissolve the sugar in it. Add the spice paste. Stir well, then cook for a minute, until slightly thickened. Add the chopped vegetables, pureed apple, and date (if available), and stir. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes. Remove from the heat, immediately put into jars, and seal.

Lady Gwendoline

Inside the ivory elegance of her private reception room, Lady Gwendoline sat neatly at her small desk. Though rather elaborate for a usual day, she was wearing a pristine dove gray dress as she was accompanying Sir Strickland to a gala in London. Her morning had been spent studying The Lady, taking stock of the opinions about the war that she should proffer should anyone ask.

“Our duty to King George, as well as the ordinary people,” she practiced out loud, “is to hold ourselves ever upright, leading our communities with bravery, clear-mindedness, and the smile of a victor.”

Was that quite right? Did it supply the right amount of noblesse oblige?

The complex inner workings of the upper-class mind remained an enigma to her. She never felt completely at ease with them. Having studied their motivations and manners for decades, she couldn’t help wondering if the hours of struggling in social discomfort were worth it. Did any of the connections merit the polite sneers and scoffs of disapproval she received for not being “true blue”?

Granted, her title had given her a rightful lead in local affairs—she was now considered the lady of the village, although the throne of her own making never felt quite as comfortable as she’d expected. It was certainly lonelier than it had been in her dreams.

    To assimilate into the upper classes was a joint ambition of both her and her husband. Sir Strickland reminded her of it continuously, pointing out her failings to “help her onto the path to success.”

Why couldn’t she live up to his standards?

No wonder he got so angry. She was letting him down, letting them both down.

The knock of the butler interrupted her thoughts. “Mrs. Audrey Landon is here to see you, m’lady.”

“What?” Lady Gwendoline exclaimed.

Audrey burst in even before Brackett had opened the door for her, then stood, scowling, her boots bringing in half the soil of Kent.

Lady Gwendoline looked her up and down. “Don’t you have any manners at all?”

Audrey’s glare moved from the elegance of the room to Lady Gwendoline. In her hand, she held a letter, somewhat crumpled and grubby with soil. “Are you trying to ruin me, Gwendoline? You know very well that I can’t have evacuees.”

“Oh, I was wondering to what I owed this intrusion.” Lady Gwendoline plastered on her false smile. “We all have to do what we can for the war effort, don’t we? Everyone else who has spare rooms in the village has evacuees. You’re the only one who doesn’t. You wouldn’t want word to get out that you’re not doing your bit, would you?”

Audrey shook with anger. “But I already have my three boys to look after, and—”

Lady Gwendoline’s eyes narrowed, her teeth gritted with determination. “I know that you have at least three extra bedrooms that are currently not being used.”

“They’re uninhabitable!” Audrey cried. “The roof has collapsed on that side of the building, and there’s damp everywhere—something green is growing in one of them. Another bill came in this morning, and I can hardly make ends meet, let alone find the money to fix the roof. I couldn’t possibly cope with any more people in the house.” She paused for breath, looking frighteningly close to tears. “You’ll have to find somewhere else for her to go,” she finally demanded.

    Yet Lady Gwendoline remained unmoved. “Don’t worry. It’s not a horde of unruly children, just a pregnant mother. She’ll be quite self-sufficient.”

“But the boys are so rambunctious.” Audrey had begun to talk terribly quickly, the words spilling out in a torrent. “The house isn’t fit for a baby.”

“I’m sure you can get a room ready.” Lady Gwendoline picked up one of her magazines dismissively. “It was an urgent request from the Middleton billeting officer. I don’t have a name or any details, but it says she’ll be arriving next Monday.”

“What about Fenley Hall? You have twelve bedrooms at least. They can’t all be full.”

“Sir Strickland needs them for important visitors, with his role in the war.” Lady Gwendoline picked up a little silver bell and rang it for the butler. “Not that it’s any concern of yours.”

Audrey was pleading. “But I can’t have any more people in the house! I simply can’t!”

Lady Gwendoline put down the magazine. “Audrey, your lack of generosity is startling. This poor woman has wanted to be rehoused for a number of weeks. Apparently, she is being treated badly in her current billet.”

“Oh no!” Audrey wailed. “I’m getting landed with a fusspot!”

Lady Gwendoline put on her caring face. “I have to ask you to change your tone. It is our duty to take care of those in need.”

“Why can’t she go farther into the countryside, away from the Blitz? We’re only a few miles outside of London. A bomb could drop on us any minute.”

“The woman works in the Fenley Pie Factory, which is why she needs to stay local. Now let’s stop this ridiculousness and find a little generosity in our hearts, shall we?”

“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?” Audrey spat. “You’re trying to fill my life with baking and now evacuees to stop me competing in the cooking contest.”

Lady Gwendoline gave a little bray of laughter. “How ridiculous you are, Audrey. Why would I do that, and to my own sister, too?”

    “You’ve always tried to bring me down! You tried to ruin my chances with Matthew when I first met him, ridiculing his art and making fun of his old motorcar. And if that wasn’t enough, you made a mockery of my wedding by feigning the mumps and fainting in the church. You can’t help but find ways to undermine me.”

“It was the mumps! Mama accused me of making it up, and you believed her. I know she was the perfect mother to you, but to me she was vile. You were always the pampered favorite. Well, it’s time to face reality: There’s a war going on, and you’re just the same as everyone else now, regardless of what she said.”

Audrey softened. “I know she could be unkind to you, but you showed her, didn’t you? You became a lady with all that money, the title, your upper-class friends. I know she disapproved, and that must have hurt. But now you’re the one on top, and here I am, struggling to stay alive, and you foist an evacuee on me.” Hands on hips, she looked exasperated. “Admit it, Gwendoline. It’s the cooking contest, isn’t it? You’re trying to ruin my chances. You just can’t bear that I might be a better cook, can you? That I might be the one who gets on the radio? This is my one chance to get my life back. Do you have to beat me at everything?”

Lady Gwendoline adopted an appalled look, ringing her little bell again and wondering what had happened to the butler. “I can’t believe that my own dear sister is accusing me of this. I give up my precious time to be the billeting officer for the village, and this is how I’m treated? Perhaps you need to look at yourself, Audrey. At how selfish you have become.”

Brackett came in, and with a nod from Lady Gwendoline, began unequivocally showing Audrey to the door.

“But—” Audrey barged past him back into the room. “You can’t do this to me, Gwendoline. I’m your sister. I lost my husband. Please?”

But Lady Gwendoline was already absorbed in her magazine. “We’ve never been sisters, Audrey. You were the only one who counted. Mama’s little favorite. I was the black sheep, and black sheep can’t be sisters, can they?”

    “I know that Mama found you difficult to understand, but I was always your sister. I tried to stand up for you. I thought we were a team.”

“You thought wrong. She left you our home, didn’t she? What did I get? Nothing. It was like I didn’t exist.”

“You were already living here in Fenley Hall. What could you possibly want with a crumbling mansion?”

Lady Gwendoline felt a searing heat through her temples. “I could have been asked,” she said surprisingly gently, and then she felt a lump in her throat. Tears were something she rarely allowed, so she quickly pulled herself together, growling at her sister. “Since you wanted the precious house so much, you got it, and so now you have to put up with evacuees.”

Audrey’s face went pale, she looked momentarily as if she were about to say something, but then, with a sob, she turned and fled from the room.