Free Just Desserts by Jan Jones Page A

him behind the wheel he had criticised hers. When the children were small, she’d had to divide the entire trip between keeping them amused and placating him.
    But no sooner had she parked by the boat than Leo threw his overnight bag cheerfully on the back seat, saying he’d been up until four in the morning reading the WI archives. Was it all right with her if he reclined the seat and slept? As music from the car’s CD player washed over them, Penny reflected that being with Leo was constantly surprising.
    Mrs Ingle, when they found the address, was a joy, just as full of the vigour that had endeared her to the younger WI members all those years ago as Penny had expected. She rocked with laughter when reminded of the incident with the tin tacks and the farms inspector when she and Elsie Fell had been trying out guerrilla offensives against enemy tanks.
    â€˜I’ve never cycled so fast in my life as I did to get away then! But you know, dear, we had the best of intentions. Did you say you were Mrs Astley’s granddaughter? My word, she was a terror at Make Do And Mend. The uses that woman could get out of an old pair of bloomers was just astounding.’
    â€˜She was still doing that up to the day she died,’ said Penny with a grin. ‘She even left instructions not to waste a whole gravestone on her when there was plenty of space below Grandpa’s name to add her own. Rationing was just a glorious excuse, really.’
    Mrs Ingle snorted appreciatively.
    â€˜Can you tell me a bit about the start of the WI?’ asked Penny. ‘I’ve been volunteered to write a brief history for the seventieth anniversary. I saw there were two ladies who alternated as president …’
    She stopped. Mrs Ingle was chuckling again. ‘Lady Ribblethwaite and Mrs Barnes,’ she said. ‘Oh, my dear, I’d forgotten. They were priceless, those two. The more they hated each other, the more scrupulously polite they were.’
    â€˜The families still aren’t very friendly today. Why the dislike? Just old family versus new money?’
    â€˜Very much so. Lady R couldn’t get used to the fact that she wasn’t queen of the district any more and Mrs B didn’t see why her money and education wasn’t as good as anyone else. Everything they did – however fine the intentions – rubbed the other one up the wrong way.’
    â€˜Like what?’ said Leo. ‘We won’t use actual names in the article.’
    â€˜Let me see … Well, one time we were raising funds for the war effort and Lady Ribblethwaite decided to hold a recital. Everyone had a set piece in those days and it didn’t really matter that we’d all heard everyone else’s twenty times before. She took it for granted that she would be organising it and simply roped people in – which didn’t go down well with the rank and file. Anyway, the day before – as part of our regular programme – Mrs Barnes gave a demonstration of stretching the weekly budget by making Jerusalem artichoke soup. We did a fearful lot of that. Twenty ways with dried eggs, that sort of thing. I don’t know whether you’ve ever had Jerusalem artichokes? They grow like weeds, you know, so weren’t rationed and could be used to eke out normal vegetables. I must say by the end of the war I felt that if I never ate another one it would have been too soon. But this was the beginning of the war, and if you aren’t used to Jerusalem artichokes they can have a rather unfortunate effect on the digestive system. Which they did. On everyone. All through Lady R’s concert. She was convinced Mrs B had done it on purpose. Fortunately Elsie and I had been drummed in for front-of-house duties so were able to escape outside whenever we couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. I thought I was going to die laughing.’
    Penny wiped her eyes.