The next day, he invited her out to the picture house, and although she suspected her mother of having suggested the outing behind her back, Caroline decided to say yes. She had always enjoyed her weekly outings to the cinema in Penzance with the other Land Girls, and thought it might take her out of herself. She had been in the doldrums lately …
The truth was, she was missing Grace. She knew she ought not to have feelings for another girl. Not after all the trouble it had caused when she’d stupidly blurted out to Selina that she ‘loved’ her, never thinking of the possible consequences, only following her heart. That disastrous admission had almost wrecked her friendship with Selina and had put her in peril of being gossiped about by the others at Postbridge Farm. Thankfully, though, Selina had kept the whole thing quiet.
As hard as it was to be away from Grace, their enforced separation might be a good thing if it prevented her from making a fool of herself again, Caroline decided.After Christmas, she would return to the farm with smiling indifference on her face, determined to keep her distance …
With that in mind, she’d written to Mr and Mrs Postbridge to say she wouldn’t be returning until the end of the year, and hoped they wouldn’t mind, given that December was often a quiet period at the farm. Violet had written a terse note back to say she would be missed, but if her grandmother was still unwell, they would allow it.
Unfortunately, her parents seemed to believe she was back for good.
When Bert turned up one day to take her to a matinee at the cinema, their first visit to the pictures having been a success, her mother caught them on their way out. ‘Come the spring,’ she said cheerfully, ‘you two should go for a picnic in the park. The pavilion was hit during the Blitz, but they’re rebuilding it. They’ve even got plans to turn that old duck pond into a proper lake.’
Caroline was taken aback but kept quiet. There was no point upsetting her mother by reminding her that she wouldn’t be there in the spring.
But when they passed the local park on their way back from the pictures, Bert stopped to point out the snow-covered rubble where the old pavilion had been hit. ‘That wasn’t a bad idea of your mum’s, you know. I haven’t been on a picnic in years. Not since before the war.’
‘I won’t be here in the spring, I’m afraid,’ Caroline admitted. ‘I’ll be going back to Cornwall after Christmas.’
‘What?’ He looked shocked.
‘I’m still a Land Girl,’ she pointed out. ‘I haven’t turned in my uniform. Besides, the farmer’s been talking abouthiring new workers – demobbed soldiers like you – and I don’t want to risk losing my job by not being there.’
‘But you don’t need to be a Land Girl anymore,’ he stammered. ‘You could get work here in a shop.’
‘In a shop?’ Caroline laughed. ‘I like the fresh country air down in Cornwall, and being near the sea … I don’t want to lose that.’
‘But I don’t understand.’ His brows tugged together. ‘I thought you liked me.’
‘I do.’
Bert stared at her. ‘Like this, though?’ He pulled her close and kissed her. She stood frozen in shock, then struggled to get free. Bert refused to let her go at first, his kiss only growing fiercer, his hands pulling her tighter. She squealed and kicked him in the shin. He swore and released her. ‘Ow, what the hell did you do that for?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Caroline exclaimed, breathless and flushed, and feeling both furious and apprehensive. It was dark and the street was deserted. Although her time on the farm had given her muscles, Bert was still bigger and stronger than her. ‘Maybe because you were kissing me against my will?’
‘It was only a bloody kiss … I thought you wouldn’t mind,’ he grumbled, then took a step back, looking her up and down with a sneer. ‘My mother always said there was something off about you. Maybe she was right.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Oh, forget it.’ Bert stamped away, leaving her to walk home alone.
Back at the house, rather tearful, Caroline told her parents what had happened, but they merely shrugged.
‘Why shouldn’t the lad give you a kiss?’ her father asked. ‘I’m only surprised he hasn’t tried before.’
Her mother peered at her. ‘Do you not like Albert?’ When Caroline said nothing, she asked tentatively, ‘Or is it that you aren’t ready for a boyfriend yet?’
‘Deirdre, for goodness’ sake,’ her father exclaimed, ‘the girl’s twenty-six. If she’s not ready now, she never will be.’
‘Then I never will be,’ Caroline agreed, and saw the shock in their faces. Blushing at what she’d revealed, she hurried upstairs before they could ask any more unwelcome questions.
The next day, she wrote to tell the Postbridges she’d be coming home earlier than planned, probably on Christmas Eve itself. She felt guilty to be leaving her family at this special time of year, yet also thankful and relieved to be contemplating a peaceful Christmas at the farm, where nobody would rag at her and make her downright miserable.
After walking out to post her letter, she sat through a painful dinner. Her mother was silent and withdrawn, her dad frowning at her in disappointment, while her gran cheerily tried to persuade her to ‘give Albert a second chance’, as though his inexpert kisses had been the only stumbling block. By bedtime, she felt dejected and desperate to get back to the farm. There, at least, she was accepted as part of the ‘family’ and not judged for the way she dressed and behaved, or chided for not having landed a boyfriend. In Cornwall, she was just Caro, one of the Land Girls. No questions asked.
Early on the morning of Christmas Eve, she packed her case and left home for the second time in her life, hugging her gran.
‘I’m sorry, Gran,’ she whispered.
‘You’ll be back in no time, love. They won’t want you Land Girls working on farms much longer,’ the old lady said confidently, ‘not now our boys are starting to come home.’
