Free Wish Me Luck by Margaret Dickinson Page A

tentatively on the back door, Fleur bit her lip, wondering, after what Mrs Jackson had said, just what she was going to have to deal with. But she needn’t have worried. When Harry Chambers opened the door, she saw that he was as old and bent as her landlady, yet there was a mischievous twinkle in his rheumy eyes and a wide, toothless smile.
    ‘By heck – have I died and gone to heaven? A pretty young lass knocking at my door. Come away in, lass.’ He turned away and shuffled back into the kitchen. Smiling inwardly, Fleur followed. Now, the question in her mind was not why he didn’t help his neighbour, but how on earth did he manage to keep his garden so immaculate? As she stepped into the kitchen, she saw the answer. The inside of his home was like a rubbish tip. The range was dirty, the floor filthy and every surface was littered with newspapers and unwashed pots. The old man swept aside a pile of clothes on a chair. ‘Sit down, sit down,’ he insisted, beckoning her forward.
    Thankful that she was wearing her old trousers, Fleur sat in the rickety chair. The old man let himself down into the dusty armchair near the range and beamed at her. ‘A’ you one of them lasses at Mary’s?’
    ‘Yes. I only arrived yesterday. I’m just getting settled in, but I’d like to make a start on getting the garden in order for her.’
    ‘Aw lass …’ To Fleur’s horror, tears filled his eyes. But at his next words she realized they were tears of joy too, just like Mrs Jackson’s had been. ‘That’d be wonderful for ’er. I’d’ve liked to have kept it right but I’ve more than I can manage with me own bit.’ He wiped the back of his hand across his face. ‘Her ol’ man, Arthur – we was mates.’ He laughed wheezily.
    ‘ ’Cept when it came to the village show and we was both entered for the biggest marrow competition. Then it was “gloves off” time. Eee, lass, but I miss him. You don’t know how much I miss our little chats over the fence.’
    Fleur smiled but didn’t know what to say so she let the old man ramble, reliving happier times. But he was laughing along with his tears. At last, he came back to the present.
    ‘So what can I do for you, lass?’
    ‘Mr Chambers, have you got a scythe I can borrow?’
    He gaped at her. ‘A scythe, lass? Aw now, I don’t know if I should let a young lass like you loose with a scythe. Them’s dangerous things if you don’t know what you’re doing …’ He leant towards her, screwing up his eyes in an effort to see her better. Then he chuckled. ‘I can see by the look on your face – you do know, don’t you?’
    Fleur nodded, her eyes brimming with mischief. ‘If my dad could hear you, Mr Chambers, he’d say, “No daughter of mine’s going to grow up without knowing how to use a scythe.” I was born and brought up on the farm.’
    The old man blinked. ‘Then what are you doing here? In the WAAFs? I’d’ve thought they’d’ve needed you at home.’
    Fleur sighed as she felt a sudden stab of guilt. ‘They do,’ she admitted, ‘but I wanted to get away. To see something of the world outside me dad’s stackyard. I still want to do my bit, but …’
    The old man watched her for a moment as she bit her lip. ‘I can understand that,’ he said gently. ‘I volunteered for the last lot even though I could have stayed safely at home ’cos I was getting on a bit for service life. My Doris begged me not to go, but I would have me own way.’
    ‘So did my dad. I think he understands why I wanted to join up, but me mum …’
    ‘Aye well, she’s your mother, lass,’ was all he said as if it explained everything. There was a moment’s silence between them and then he began to chuckle. ‘And now here you are, wanting to dig up Mary’s garden. Seems you can’t get away from it, eh, lass?’
    Fleur spluttered with laughter. ‘Just serves me right, doesn’t it?’ And they rocked with merriment.
    ‘Ee lass, you’ve done me a power of good. I