Gracie's Sin (32 page)

Adam told himself that Gracie surely wouldn’t be spending so much time here at the farm if she wasn’t growing fond of him. She was always up early every morning, eager to start work, watching with him for the PoW detail to arrive. ‘Ah, there they are. I’ll just see that everything’s all right,’ she would say, dashing off down the field path in search of the two prisoners with their guard.

‘Wait, I’ll come with you,’ he’d call after her retreating figure, so slight and lithe and lovely as she ran through the field, her fair hair flying in the breeze. ‘I’ll just finish up the milking,’ or cleaning out the byre, or whatever task he was engaged with. But, ever in a hurry to help, she never could wait. Filled with energy and enthusiasm she would dash off, telling him to join her later when he was ready, which of course he desperately strove to do. That was Gracie all over, so considerate. Then he would skimp on his work in order to chase after her.

And when he did reach her, she always showed a very real concern for him. ‘You work far too hard, Adam. You really shouldn’t abandon your cows. Leave all of these mundane tasks to Karl and Erich. They’re doing a marvellous job. We’ll make farmers of them yet.’

Sometimes he had great difficulty in catching up with her at all. She was like quick silver, one moment Adam could see her in the distance, perhaps talking to the guard, happily digging alongside Erich, or working on the hedge with the other prisoner. Then when he reached that spot, she’d be in quite a different place altogether, or nowhere in sight, the guard often asleep in the sun, lazy blighter that he was. Then suddenly she would be beside him again, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, slightly breathless with the excitement at discovering him there, and his heart would lift at sight of her.

‘I’ve come to walk you back to the house, Gracie. Mam says it’s time for tea.’

‘How kind. Then I’ll come, of course.’ And she would let him take her hand and lead her back along the path, moments alone with her that Adam treasured.

Slowly it began to dawn on him what the reason was for her odd behaviour. He could tell, by the way her pupils dilated and darkened into a glittering gaze, by the tremor of her hand when he took it gently in his, that a passion raged within her. She was in love. Heavens, his mam was right. No doubt about it. She wanted him. That was why she was taking so long over the hedge layering. She was playing hard to get.

He really thought that the time was drawing near for him to risk asking her a more serious question. She was hot with love, and all he had to do was pluck up the courage to declare himself. So what was it that made him hesitate?

The risks Gracie ran even to exchange a few words or slip Karl a note filled her with terror, yet she couldn’t seem to help herself. More dangerous still, they would hide between the hedge and the hen coop for secret kisses, burying themselves in old sacks and dead leaves to explore their passion further. To be fair, Erich proved to be a boon in this respect, frequently keeping the guard occupied in idle chatter, or sharing a cigarette with him, so they could enjoy a few moments privacy. And it was here that they made love for the first time, a hasty and furtive coupling while the guard dozed in the hot summer sun and Adam tended his animals.

Gracie knew that if they were ever discovered in one of their trysting places, at best Karl would be sent away to another camp. At worst, he could quite easily be shot. He only had to be found in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and it could easily be assumed, not unreasonably, that he was trying to escape. She did not think of danger to herself but she did worry about putting his life at risk. Yet neither could she stop herself from showing how much she loved him, at any and every opportunity. Their love was completely and utterly irresistible.

It was a dangerous game they played. Even finding a moment alone to read her precious letters was difficult, since Lou or Rose, or one of the others always seemed to be around. Not for a moment dare she let anyone guess her secret. Karl was an enemy of war. Her sin was to love him.

Each night she tossed and turned in her bed, barely sleeping, so that even Lou asked what was wrong. Gracie made the excuse of a headache, of being too hot or over-tired, till she feared that even Lou was growing suspicious.

‘For goodness sake girl, relax. You’ve been working too hard. Why don’t you ask Adam to take you to the pictures on Saturday? Do you good. Wish I'd a lovely chap to take me out. I miss Gordon so much it hurts, and I haven’t had a letter for ages. I’m trying not to worry but - it isn’t easy.’

Inevitably the day came when the hedge was finished. The final note Karl left for her was heartbreaking in its simplicity. ‘This isn’t the end,’ it said, and Gracie told herself that this must be true, else why would God have allowed them to fall in love in the first place? Even the war couldn’t last for ever. Peace was their only hope.

The squad were measuring and marking trees suitable for felling near Esthwaite Water on a beautiful day in late August. The small lake shimmered in the heat and even the moorhens were too hot and sleepy to swim about very much, although the girls were longing to strip off and join them in the cool water when two visitors arrived: the Divisional Officer, who’d come to check that they were doing their job properly, and her driver. The latter, freckle-faced, Aertex shirt and breeches looking as if they’d never seen an iron or coat hanger, although for once remarkably clean, and with not a streak of oil in sight.

‘Tess
!’

They fell upon her with squeals of delight. ‘You got here. At last! Oh, how wonderful. Now we’re a team again. Yippee!’ Even the Divisional Officer was laughing, as they wrapped arms about each other’s shoulders and did a little circling jig of jubilation.

After they’d provided their visitors with tea and a cheese roll, the Divisional Officer beckoned Lou to one side. ‘Can we have a private word, Mason?’

They strolled along the path, the quiet of the woodlands broken only by the occasional trill of a blackbird, the crack of a twig beneath their feet. Lou frantically searched her mind for something she might have done wrong, some rule she’d inadvertently broken. She was quite certain that the D.O. had come to tear a strip off her for something, so the woman’s next words came as a surprise.

‘I’ve been very pleased with your progress here, Mason. You have the right attitude, the sort of spunk that the WTC likes to see in its members. And it’s plain to us that the rest of the squad look up to you. They view you almost as their leader, in point of fact.’

‘That’s only because I’m older than most. It’ll be different now Tess is here. Assuming she stays of course.’

‘Oh, I think she’d be quite happy to give up driving boring officials like me around, and return to the old lorries, which she much prefers. But I don’t think Tess being back with the squad will detract from your authority in the slightest. In fact, we mean to make sure that it doesn’t.’ She then informed Lou that she’d been promoted to forewoman; that she would be sent on a training exercise which would last five days where she’d learn about health and first aid, book keeping and the necessary form filling, and of course even more about tree identification, the uses of wood and being responsible for the girls in her care.

For the first time in her life, Lou couldn’t think of a thing to say. She was struck dumb. In the beginning, joining the WTC had been merely a ploy to stay close to her beloved Gordon. The war, and events beyond her control had put paid to that dream, but she knew now how much she loved it and wanted to do her best in the job. Until the war ended, Gordon returned, and they could take up life together as a proper married couple, this was where she wanted to be. Doing her bit. She couldn’t wait to write and tell him about her promotion. He’d be so thrilled for her.

She managed a stammered thank you. ‘Don’t let on. I'd like to tell the squad myself, if you don’t mind.’

The Divisional Officer grinned. ‘Of course. Your privilege.’

Later, when their visitors had gone, Tess promising to return with all speed, Lou invited them all out to tea the very next day, and refused absolutely to give the reason.

Saturday dawned warm and pleasant, if rather cloudy. A perfect day, Lou declared, for some brisk exercise. The sun broke out from behind a bank of cloud at the very moment they breasted Red Bank on their bicycles. ‘Just look at that view!’ Gracie cried. ‘It quite takes your breath away.’

Everyone felt bound to pause to examine the panorama laid out before them. They were quite out of puff from the climb already, but it was indeed breathtaking, hard to believe so much beauty could still exist in wartime. Plymouth, London, Exeter and other famous cities were still suffering from intermittent bombing raids. Over in Warsaw, Jews and Poles were fleeing for their lives. Lancaster bombers were bouncing bombs down the Ruhr and Eder valleys, and the Allies finally making inroads into Italy by taking Palermo, capturing thousands of enemy troops. Yet here, in Lakeland, Rydal Water glistened benignly in the sun, and the green vale in which the slate cottages of Grasmere nestled, seemed to promise nothing but peace by its lushness.

They parked their bicycles by the roughcast walls of the small church, named after the Northumbrian King, St Oswald, and the venue for the customary Rush Bearing Festival which took place every year in early August. Perhaps, Gracie thought, the war had put an end to this pleasure too, as it had to so many other innocent treats. Oh Karl, will it ever be over? Will we ever be free?

Lou treated everyone, as promised, to a substantial tea of toasted tea cakes and the famous Grasmere gingerbread, accompanied by several cups of strong tea and much noisy chatter.

‘We need more of these outings,’ she said, reaching for another tea cake and spreading it thickly with the rather tart damson jam. ‘It’s good for us to get out and about together.’

‘Awch, dinna ye think we see enough of each other all week?’ Jeannie said, fumbling in her pocket for another cigarette.

‘Not lately we haven’t,’ Lena pointed out. ‘What with Gracie working with the PoWs, and Rose sick again. We’ve missed you both. We could have done with a few more hands on the felling this week. It was jolly hard work.’

Lou said to Gracie, ‘I should think you’re glad the hedging is over, aren’t you, and the PoWs back in camp? It was obviously quite a responsibility for you, judging from the several bad night’s sleep it gave you.’

Fortunately Gracie managed to avoid answering this question by turning to Rose and asking what had made her sick, and if she was feeling better.

Before she had time to answer, Jeannie chipped in, ‘She was no doubt having secret trysts with her Canadian boy friend, and not poorly at all.’

Rose’s mouth curled into a secretive little smile, flickering her eyebrows provocatively as if saying they could think whatever they liked.

‘Ye see. She’s no denying it.’ Jeannie blew out a puff of smoke in disgust.

‘You don’t get paid for loafing about with fellas,’ Lou said in stern, no-nonsense tones, which finally forced Rose to protest that she wasn’t loafing about at all, but truly had been sick. To her great concern this was no more than the truth.

On several occasions this week, particularly when she’d got out of bed in a hurry, she’d felt the urge to vomit, even if sometimes she’d managed not to. And she didn’t need to visit any doctor to guess the reason. What else could it be? A small kernel of excitement burned deep within at the prospect of having Josh’s child. Wouldn’t he be pleased? And Rose could think of no surer way of keeping him. He meant to take her home with him to Canada anyway, so it would only mean bringing forward the date of their wedding. Not that he’d actually proposed yet, but Rose knew this was only because of the uncertainty of war. Her heart told her that marriage was what he wanted, what they both wanted.

Lou’s announcement burst into her thoughts. ‘It seems that Divisional Office has decided that this squad needs bringing into order, and I, apparently, am the girl for the task.’

‘What?’

‘I’ve been promoted. Meet your new forewoman.’

This news was greeted with whoops of delight, many hugs and kisses of congratulation and much thumping on the back, all mixed with noisy protests that they didn’t need anyone to keep them in order, thank you very much.

Lou steadfastly disagreed. ‘I reckon it’s time we all tightened up a bit, worked harder, put in some extra training. We’re getting slack.’ Voices were raised in protest yet again, but she held to her point. ‘Look how long it took Gracie to finish that bloomin’ hedge, far longer than it should, despite having PoWs to help. We’re all slowing down, just because of these sweltering summer days. Well, our boys can’t slow down, can they? They can’t say, they’re not going to fight today because they feel a bit off colour.’

Gracie struggled to come up with an excuse but her mind was blank, filled only with a deep longing for Karl, and her worries over when she might see him again. Not even the guilt she felt for the sin of loving the enemy could eradicate her need to be with him. She made a private vow to tackle Alf one more time on the possibility of a PoW detail again working alongside them in the forest. Why on earth shouldn’t they? Gracie came out of her reverie with a start, momentarily concerned that someone might have noticed her distraction. Fortunately, everyone was far too busy looking equally guilty. Even Rose was hanging her head with shame.

Lou continued, ‘So, I’ve decided, some time in September, once I get back from this training, that we’ll all go off to camp and do some serious training of our own. There’s logging going on over Loweswater way. I’ll try and get us a spell of work up there. At least it will be a change, and give us the opportunity for a good shake up. What d’you reckon?’