‘I suppose you’re right,’ Violet grumbled.
Caroline dashed through the kitchen, oblivious to their gossiping, and waved merrily at Sheila before heading into the yard. ‘Have a great time in Penzance, Mrs Newton,’ she called over her shoulder.
Staring after the girl, Violet whispered, ‘But what about Grace? I don’t want that girl made uncomfortable by Caroline mooning after her all day.’
‘Best leave them to sort it out for themselves, love. Anyway, something tells me it would take a mite more than that to make Grace uncomfortable.’
Bernie beeped his horn outside.
Sheila started guiltily. ‘Gawd, I’d forgotten all about him. Well, goodbye, Vi,’ she said hurriedly and kissed her daughter on the cheek. ‘I’ll give your love to Lily and Tristan. And little Morris, bless his heart.’
‘I wish you weren’t going,’ Violet said unhappily. ‘Me and Joe …’ But she stopped, her lips tightening.
‘Yes? You and Joe?’ Sheila prompted her, but Violet shook her head, looking stubborn.
‘Nothing, Mum. Have a good time and come back safe.’
Sheila sighed. ‘I’ll do my best, love.’
She wished her daughter would open up about the problems in her marriage, since nobody could have missed the signs … Arguments that rumbled on for days, cold looks, and a tension in the air that made mealtimes awkward, even for the Land Girls, who were usually too wrapped up in their own little world to notice anyone else. But there was nothing she could do about it, not when she was going to be in Penzance for the next couple of weeks.
She whisked herself out to Bernie’s huge Daimler, clutching her handbag and hoping to goodness she hadn’t forgottenanything important. ‘Oh, blimey … Too late to change my mind now,’ she groaned, clambering into the passenger seat just as Bernie started the engine.
‘Penzance, here we come,’ Bernie said with a grin.
Sheila cranked down the window to wave frantically at poor Violet, who’d come out into the yard to see her off and was wafting a white hanky about like she was planning to surrender.
It was a sunny morning in Porthcurno, despite the chilly, whitened hedgerows and paths, but there were dull cloudbanks ahead, suggestive of heavier snow roughly in the direction they would be taking. Bernie had assured her that if the daily bus was getting through without any problems, so could his car. But the best-laid plans, and all that.
Sheila drew on her thick woollen gloves, suddenly glad of the blanket and hamper on the seat behind her.
They reached Penzance a little after lunchtime, due to Bernie taking the corners at a snail’s pace, worried about ice on the roads and the possibility of his prized car ending up in a ditch. But they suffered no mishaps, and Sheila felt her spirits lighten as the pretty seaside town came into view below them.
‘Feels like we’re running away together,’ she said to Bernie with a chuckle.
He flashed her a smile. ‘Would you like that? Because we could keep driving past Penzance and not stop until we find a cosy little wayside inn …’
‘Bernie, don’t you dare even suggest such a thing!’ But she found herself grinning. ‘Gawd, I can just imagine Violet’s face if we was to elope. I’d never live it down.’
‘You’re not afraid of your daughter’s opinion, surely?’
‘Not afraid so much as wary of causing a row. Violet used to know how to have fun with the rest of us. But since she got married she’s been a bit of a dry stick.’ She paused, remembering that awkward moment in the kitchen before she’d left. ‘Her and Joe are having problems, I think. That’s probably why she’s always in a bad mood.’
‘I’ve noticed that myself,’ he agreed, his smile fading. ‘Marriage can be hard going sometimes.’
‘Funny you’re hankering after a second helping, then.’
‘Ah, but with you, it would be all smooth sailing.’
‘Flatterer,’ she accused him, but chuckled again. ‘Where are you planning to stay while I’m at Lily and Tristan’s?’
‘With my cousin Percy. I haven’t seen him in a while, so we’ll have plenty of catching up to do. And I have a number of old friends I’d like to visit too, if there’s time.’ He slowed as they descended towards the town. ‘Which way?’
Sheila consulted the map that Lily had sent with her last letter. She’d been to Tristan’s sheep farm before, but couldn’t quite remember the way. ‘Looks like you need to turn left up ahead.’
‘How soon?’
‘Gawd, I don’t know. There’s a funny sort of squiggle before the turning.’ She leant over, holding up Lily’s map so he could see it. ‘I can’t make head nor tail of this. Is that a picture of a tree, do you think?’
