War Brides by Bryan Helen

Author:Bryan, Helen [Bryan, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Amazon.com
Published: 2011-02-02T08:00:00+00:00

<

17. Crowmarsh Priors, Frances’ Birthday, November 1941

When Frances finished at the farm on Saturday, she cycled home as fast as she could. She was alone because Elsie had stayed behind. After work, through gritted teeth, the Team Leader had demanded “a quiet word” with Elsie, who had been driving the tractor too fast and nearly run her over. Steeling herself against the cold, Frances took a hasty bath in the tepid four inches of water the War Office allowed. As she watched the filthy water gurgle down the drain, she had a short battle with her conscience, then had another bath. This time the water was more or less clean when she let it out. Shivering, she washed her hair and rinsed it with some flat beer she and Elsie kept in a bottle for that purpose.

By the time Elsie came home and clattered into the kitchen to make sandwiches, her one culinary accomplishment, Frances was wrapped in a dressing gown, with a towel round her head, smelling of hops. She drew the blackout curtains, lit the fires, tipped the last bottle of her godmother’s sherry into a decanter, then opened several bottles of claret and left them on the hearth to breathe and warm a little. For good measure, she opened the genever and drew the cork on a bottle of brandy. Frances had a swig of the genever to taste it while she huddled close to the fire to dry her hair. The pungent herbal smell and strange taste made her shudder but it was nicely warming.

The blaze crackled merrily and she had another sip. Then another. She poured some into a glass and drank that too. Her cheeks tingled and she felt much warmer, quite cheerful really. Would Oliver think she looked pretty tonight? She wondered as she tripped back up the stairs. She slipped into the tea gown, which was cut on the bias and swirled gracefully round her hips, making her small waist look even slimmer, then the matching slippers. She peered critically into the wavy old mirror in her bedroom to pin up her hair and fasten the pearls round her neck. She finished by putting on scent and lipstick, thinking how delightful it was to be wearing a pretty dress. Her reflection in the mirror reassured her that she looked like her old self, at least in the dim light. She gave a little twirl and the skirt swished round her ankles.

Someone knocked on the door.

Oliver!

Hurrying downstairs, she felt a little dizzy. She clutched the door for support as she swung it open. It wasn’t Oliver, but Hugo, in evening dress and a white silk scarf, with a bouquet of roses and a bottle of champagne. “Happy birthday, Frances! How lovely you look! Somehow one forgets Land Girls are, well, girls. ”

Embarrassed, Frances exclaimed at the size of the bouquet and buried her nose in the fragrant blooms. “Oh Hugo, roses! They’re my favourites. Wherever did you get them in November?” She kissed

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.