Free The Way Ahead by Mary Jane Staples Page B

say it’s a blessing you’ve got a healthy job on a farm, Emma, instead of being a woman soldier like Eloise. I can’t say I’ll ever believe women ought to be soldiers. Look what might have happened if Rosie and your Aunt Polly had been soldiers when their babies were due. A fine thing that would have been, having their babies with guns going off.’
    Mr Finch coughed, as was his wont when Chinese Lady’s observations were a bit over the top.
    ‘Um, I think that would have been avoided, Maisie,’ he said.
    ‘I should hope so,’ said Chinese Lady.
    ‘I never fancied soldiering myself, Grandma, and I like doing my bit on the land,’ said Emma, thinking how alert and sprightly her grandma was at sixty-seven. She still seemed to keep an eye on everyone, whether they were at home or away. Grandpa Finch was beginning to age a bit, but even at seventy he still had a distinguished look, and went to his Government work every day, being determined to give his services until the war ended. His department must think a lot of him, or they’d have insisted on retiring him. ‘Uncle Sammy and the family firm have made Jonathan and me very happy, Grandma, but we really must go now.’
    She and Jonathan said goodbye, Jonathan leaving pocket money for Paula and Phoebe. On their way by bus to Kennington, Jonathan said, ‘Our own house, Emma.’
    ‘Our own house and home, Jonathan, for us and our own family,’ said Emma.
    ‘You reckon you like that idea, Emma?’
    ‘I reckon, Jonathan.’
    In bed with Sammy later, Susie said, ‘I’m really happy for Emma and Jonathan, and you can go to the top of the class for being so good to them, and for saying it cost the firm five hundred and ten pounds instead of the real price of five hundred and fifty.’
    ‘Well, family, y’know, and Emma’s sister Annabelle and her husband Nick have already got their own house,’ said Sammy. ‘But the firm will consider approaches from other nieces and nephews when their time comes. Further, Susie, it’s good business right enough in this case, considering the happy Yank is paying rent of forty-eight quid a month.’
    ‘How much?’ asked Susie.
    ‘Forty-eight smackers per calendar month, Susie. I’ve got to admit it, the blokes from over there are loaded and generous. And Mrs Happy Yank is likewise generous and also friendly.’
    ‘Pardon?’ said Susie.
    ‘Just friendly, Susie.’
    ‘And how generous, might I ask?’
    ‘Just a whisky and soda on the two times I popped in, Susie. She calls it a highball. Apart from that, she’s six feet tall and wears boxing gloves lined with iron filings in case a German paratrooper drops in with ideas about a bit of naughty pillaging, if you get me.’
    ‘I get you, Sammy.’
    ‘Susie, even if the war only lasts another year, at that kind of rent we’ll bank nearly six hundred quid, and maintenance costs won’t amount to much, seeing the place is in first-class condition.’
    ‘Just a minute, didn’t you tell me a rent of twelve pounds a month originally?’ said Susie.
    ‘No, twelve a week approximately, Susie.’
    ‘Sammy Adams, at the end of a year that’ll nearly cover what the firm paid for it,’ said Susie.
    ‘Um, a bit more actually,’ said Sammy.
    ‘Then what you’ll get from Jonathan and Emma will be all profit. Sammy, it won’t do.’
    ‘But, Susie, if the war ended next week—’
    ‘Some hopes,’ said Susie.
    ‘The proposition is fair business, Susie, and still doing Emma and Jonathan a good turn.’
    ‘Sammy Adams, I don’t want the firm making that kind of profit at their expense. Jonathan’s serving in the Army and been wounded, and Emma’s working on a farm. They deserve some discount.’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘How much discount is it if you lower the firm’s price to four hundred and twenty-five pounds?’
    ‘Susie, that’s enough discount to turn me hair white.’
    ‘I like white hair on men, it makes them look distinguished. So write to Emma and Jonathan and tell