Free Whisper on the Wind by Elizabeth Elgin Page B

beginning to be felt and most agreed that the sooner it was placed on official ration, the better.
    ‘I haven’t come for Roz.’ Jonty glanced down disparagingly at his working clothes. ‘I think she must be going dancing tonight.’ With someone else. She usually was, and he couldn’t blame her. Most girls would rather be seen out with men in uniform. Tonight, probably, Roz would be meeting one of the Peddlesbury airmen. Most of the village girls dated airmen now. ‘Why I really came was to tell you we’ve started the ploughing, though likely you’ll know.’
    ‘Yes, and I’m relieved it’s under way. Will it be finished in time?’
    ‘I think so, but the War Ag. isn’t going to quibble over a few days. Why don’t you come over tomorrow and take a look at it?’
    Sooner or later she must come face to face with Marco Roselli; best she got it over with.
    ‘And watch
him
, Jonty, strutting over Martin’s land?’
    ‘He doesn’t strut, Mrs Fairchild.’ The reply was firm, yet without offence. ‘He’s called Marco and he’s my age – a good man with a horse-plough, too.’
    ‘He was fighting for them;
with
them.’
    She fixed him with a stare, leaving him in no doubt that further conversation about the prisoner was at an end.
    ‘I’m sorry you feel as you do, Mrs Fairchild.’ His voice held a hint of the fatigue he felt. ‘Think I’d best be off. One of the heifers was a bit restless when I looked in on her; she’s due to drop her calf any time.’ A first-calving it would be, that could be tricky. Best he shouldn’t be too long away.
    ‘Goodnight then, Jonty. I hope you won’t be up all night. Thank you for coming, and for the milk.’ Her voice was more gentle, apologetic almost.
    ‘’Night. Tell Roz to have a good time.’
    A good time! Hands in pockets he kicked out at the tussocky grass of the orchard. Roz had no time for civilians, now. No one had. Even in York, where a different assistant had served him when he called for the tractor spares, he’d come up against the antagonism. Foolishly he’d remarked on it to the middle-aged woman who stood behind the counter.
    ‘What do you mean, where is she?’ The reply was acid-sharp. ‘She’s gone to join the Air Force, that’s what. They’re calling-up women, now – or hadn’t you noticed, young man?’
    Yes, he damn-well
had
noticed! He noticed it all the time and if he’d had any choice at all in the matter, he’d have joined the Air Force, too.
    He hoped Roz didn’t get too deeply involved. Rumour had it that Peddlesbury had lost three bombers in as many weeks. Roz never did things by half. When she fell in love it would be deeply and completely and her grief would be terrible – if she’d fallen for one of the aircrew – if one night he didn’t come back.
    There had been a lessening of Luftwaffe raids over England, he brooded, yet Bomber Command had doubled its raids over Germany. Stood to reason there’d be heavy losses.
    Take care, Roz – don’t get hurt, love.
    Roz swept into Ridings kitchen like a small whirlwind, scooped up her coat then placed a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek. ‘Bye. Got to rush. Don’t wait up for me,’ and was gone before Hester could even begin to warn her not to be too late back.
    She made for the gap in the hedge, walking carefully through the orchard to the small, straight lane that led to the Black Horse inn at the top end of Alderby village. She and Paul often met at the back of the pub, though never inside it; she had no wish for her grandmother to learn about him by way of village gossip. Truth known, she admitted reluctantly, she wanted to keep their affair a secret for as long as she could, knowing as she did that this was not the time to take Paul home or even admit she was ‘going out with aircrew’ as Alderby gossip succinctly put it.
    It was best, she was sure, that for just a little while longer their love should remain their own, if only to save herself from Gran’s gentle