The Victory Garden Page 21
“A sailor, is he?”
“No, he’s an aviator in the Royal Air Force. He brought back his aeroplane in flames rather than parachute down behind enemy lines.”
“Blimey. That takes some guts. So will he go back to flying when he’s recovered?”
“I rather fear he will,” Emily said. “I just pray the war ends before they release him from hospital.”
“And then you’ll get married?” Alice asked.
Emily paused. Would she really marry Robbie if he asked her? Would she be prepared to travel to the outback and live miles from the nearest person?
“We’ll have to see about that,” she answered.
CHAPTER NINE
Perry’s Farm
Near Tavistock, Devon
June 18th, 1918
My dear Clarissa,
As you can see from the address above, I have done it! I have escaped from my gilded cage! Not quite as dramatically as you, I’m afraid. They were not in need of local volunteer nurses, and when it came to it, I was not prepared to go to Portsmouth for proper nursing training. I had to admit to myself that I was scared as to whether I could handle what you have to go through. And, truth be told, I didn’t want to be so far away from Robbie, who is now in hospital in Plymouth. I haven’t had a chance to visit him yet as we haven’t had a day off, but I’ve written to him with all the news and I hope to go on Sunday.
So I’ve become a land girl. Can you imagine? It is awfully hard work. I’ve got blisters all over my hands, and we are bossed around by a woman who was a former Girl Guide captain and reminds me of Miss Knight at school. You know how frightful she was. Well, this woman is worse. One of my fellow recruits said, “It’s like being in the army!” To which another replied, “Why do you think it’s called the Women’s Land Army?” And we all laughed.
There is a really good spirit amongst the women. We are a motley crew—mostly from humble backgrounds, except for one middle-aged woman whose husband was an accountant. The poor fellow was called up on his fortieth birthday—killed right away, like Freddie. It’s so sad, isn’t it? Almost all the girls have had some sort of loss—brothers or sweethearts, even one father. In spite of the fact that they have very different backgrounds from mine, I really like them. There’s one really flashy Irish girl and one who complains about everything, but on the whole they are good-natured. We have to get along well because we are all crammed into bedrooms together. You should hear the barnyard noises at night! Oh, and we have cold water to wash in. As you can imagine, there is not much bathing done, and the personal hygiene after a day in the fields leaves a lot to be desired. But I am learning to get used to farmyard odours of various kinds!
So far, we have tried to milk a cow (without much success), learned about the dangers of pigs—they can kill you if you are not careful! We also learned not to stand behind a horse (common sense, that one). One girl had hysterics when we had to feed chickens. She thought they were attacking her when they were only trying to get at their food. She fell over and they swarmed all over her. You should have heard her screams! Up next is ploughing and haymaking, which seem more serene occupations. And then, at the end of four weeks, we are sent to a farm.
I do hope all is well with you. Are you seeing fewer casualties? Has Lieutenant Hutchins written to you?
Oh dear. The whistle sounds. I must report for duty.
Love from your friend,
Emily
That evening, her sense of obligation got the better of her and she wrote to her parents, a polite and formal note letting them know where she was and that she was flourishing on hard work and fresh air. On Sunday, she hitched a ride on a farm cart to the nearest bus stop and made her way into Plymouth.
“Well, look at you,” Robbie said, beaming as she entered his ward. “Aren’t you looking the picture of health? Outdoor life agrees with you.”
“It does,” Emily said. “Although I’m afraid I shall never look pale and delicate again. I’ve got quite a sunburn, on my arms, too. But you’re looking better yourself.”
“I am,” he said. “They are making me do all kinds of exercises.”
“I hope you’re behaving yourself here,” she said sternly.
He glanced at the other men in the ward and laughed. “I’m being as good as gold, aren’t I, mates?”
“You? You’re a royal pain to the nurses.” The man in the next bed chuckled. “You should see how he winds them up, miss.”
“They don’t allow any nonsense,” Robbie said. “They run a tight ship here, as they say. Very military. No answering back.”
“Are you allowed out?” she asked.
“What, off grounds? I shouldn’t think so, but I’m encouraged to walk. Hand me those crutches, although I’m told I’m to give them up in a few days.”
Emily did as he asked, and they walked side by side down the long corridor.
“This hospital is enormous,” Emily said. “All these buildings.”
“Ah, do you know it was built like this deliberately, with different buildings far enough apart so that infectious diseases wouldn’t spread from one to the other. It’s very advanced, this place.”
It took a while to help him down the stairs, but then they were out on the central green. Seagulls wheeled overhead, crying, and the tang of the sea was in the air. In the distance, Emily glimpsed the blue water of the estuary.