Lost Angel. Kitty Neale
their ration books, glad that at least she had always taken these, along with their birth certificates and marriage lines to the shelter. She asked for butter, sugar, flour, yeast, along with a newspaper, while Ellen chose a gobstopper and some barley sugar.
Mrs Brandon was totting up the bill when Gertie stepped inside. ‘Come on, Hilda, get a move on,’ she chided.
‘Morning, Miss Forbes,’ the postmistress said pointedly.
‘Good morning, Mrs Brandon,’ Gertie replied, her tone clipped.
‘I was only saying to Mrs Cook earlier that it must be nice for you having a friend to stay.’
Gertie didn’t answer the woman, only saying to Hilda as she marched out of the shop again, ‘I’ll wait for you outside.’
Mrs Brandon’s neck stretched with indignation as she puffed, ‘Well, I never.’
‘Sorry,’ Hilda said as she hurriedly paid for her goods before leaving the shop.
‘Look, I’ve got a gobstopper,’ Ellen said as she ran to Gertie’s side.
‘That’ll keep you quiet for all of five minutes.’
‘Gertie, you were a bit short with Mrs Brandon,’ Hilda complained.
‘She was just after gossip and I won’t give her, or anyone else in the village, the satisfaction of knowing my business. Now let’s get to the butcher’s and then we can go home.’
Hilda sighed. Unlike Gertie, she missed chatting to people – all right, gossiping if that’s what Gertie wanted to call it – but nowadays she didn’t get the chance. ‘While we’re there I’ll get some sausages and a bit of bacon, but why do you need to talk to him?’
‘Until I get new crops to sell money will be a bit tight, so at this time of year I take him one of my pigs for slaughter.’
‘No! No!’ Ellen yelped.
‘Oh, darn, I shouldn’t have said anything in front of her.’
‘It’s a bit late now,’ Hilda snapped as Ellen flung herself against her.
Gertie crouched down. ‘Listen, Ellen, you like eating roast pork, sausages, and bacon, don’t you? I raise pigs for food, not as pets – but I’m sorry, I should have warned you.’
‘Wh … what about the other one?’
‘She’ll be having a litter soon, and once weaned I’ll sell all the piglets but one which I’ll fatten up for next year. I know it all sounds awful to you, but it’s the way of life on farms and smallholdings.’
Ellen wasn’t mollified, but just then they were all distracted by the roar of an engine as a motorbike drove into the village. At first Hilda thought the driver was going to pass straight through, but then he suddenly braked. The man lifted his goggles, turned to look at her, and Hilda blinked, unable to believe her eyes.
The bag of shopping left her hand in shock and groceries spilled onto the pavement, unheeded as Hilda dashed forward. ‘Doug! Ohh … Doug,’ she cried, her face alight with joy.
Ellen couldn’t stop smiling. Her dad was here, staying in the cottage, and almost immediately she saw a change in her mother. She was wearing make-up again, even when working outside, and instead of wrapping her hair in a turban, she wore it softly curled around her face.
Working side by side, they got on with the planting, but now her mother’s voice often rose in song as they put in row after row of vegetables. Ellen didn’t understand why she had to sleep with Gertie now. She’d rather have squashed in between her parents, especially as Gertie snored so loudly, but for some reason they wanted to be on their own. There were times too when her parents went off on the motorbike, leaving her feeling excluded, but then they’d come back, her mum rosy-cheeked and smiling, and her dad lifting her in the air, calling her his pumpkin again.
One morning, over a week later, the sun was shining, and Ellen was bashing the top of her egg as her parents chatted.
‘Travelling by train is murder now, Doug. Thank Gawd that bloke lent you his motorbike. It was good of him.’
‘Yeah, he’s a good mate, on board ship and off.’
‘I wish you hadn’t joined the navy. I hate it that you’re at sea with the constant danger from those German U-boats.’
‘I’d have been in just as much danger in the army.’
‘What’s a U-boat?’ Ellen asked.
‘It’s a German submarine. But enough talk about the war. I’ve only got another five days’ leave, so let’s make the most of it.’
‘I think you’re right,’ Gertie said, ‘and as we’ve done so much planting, why don’t the three of you go out on your own for a while?’
‘That isn’t a bad idea,’ Doug said.
‘You can take Bertie with you. I want to go into the village, but tomorrow we need to make a start on the salad crops.’
‘Some leave this is,’ joked Doug, ‘and there was I, expecting you women to spoil me for fourteen days. Come on, Ellen, get dressed and then we can explore the woods.’
Ellen rose eagerly to her feet, but as she did so she noticed a look pass between her mother and Gertie. She frowned. They looked secretive … but why?
As soon as the three of them left the cottage, Doug’s arm around Hilda’s shoulder and Ellen clinging happily to his other hand, the false smile Gertie had put on for their benefit left her face. It had been pre-arranged that while they got Ellen out of the way, she would take the pig for slaughter – but that wasn’t why Gertie had to put on a false front.
As a child she had thought her feelings for Hilda were sisterly, but that had all changed at puberty. While Gertie had battled with her confused feelings, Hilda had been attracted to boys. Ashamed and bewildered, Gertie had pretended interest in them too, but all the time she had grown more and more enamoured with Hilda.
They’d always been such a complete contrast, she tall, big-boned, whereas Hilda was tiny, petite and feminine. Gertie had longed to hold her, to kiss her, but knew it was unnatural – that if Hilda, or anyone else, found out, they’d be disgusted. She had hated her feelings, wanted to be normal, but the thought of being touched, held, or kissed by a man repelled her.
Somehow Gertie had kept up the pretence, but, in the end, fearing she would no longer be able to contain her feelings for Hilda, it had been a relief when they went their separate ways. To her utter amazement, once out in the world, Gertie discovered that she wasn’t a freak – that there were other so-called unnatural women. She had met Susan, found happiness, but the affair had cost her everything. To escape they had moved here to Somerset, and until now she hadn’t seen Hilda for many years. When she’d written to ask if both she and Ellen could come to stay, Gertie had hesitated, but then hadn’t had the strength of will to refuse. They were in danger and she couldn’t bear to think about that, but as soon as she saw Hilda again, Gertie found her feelings rekindled.
It made her feel so guilty, pretending to Hilda that she saw her as a sister, but now that she was here, Gertie couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving again. To cope she’d created a fantasy, albeit a celibate one, where they were a family and Ellen their daughter. But then Doug had turned up and one look at Hilda’s face when she saw him was enough to shatter Gertie’s fragile illusion. Her lips tightened. Hilda was so obviously in love with her husband that it was painful to watch, the two of them barely able to keep their hands off each other.
Five more days – five more days of this purgatory before Doug left, and Gertie couldn’t wait to see the back of him. Of course Hilda