‘Whitehall?’ Now Sheila was sure they must be pulling her leg. ‘Hello? Mrs Newton here,’ she said gruffly into the speaker and waited, listening to the loud crackle on the line. ‘Who’s this?’
A young man with a plummy voice introduced himself as Mr Chilcott, working with a new government department in London’s Whitehall, dealing with communities in crisis during the cold snap. ‘You’re listed as current proprietor of the Porthcurno village shop, Mrs Newton. Is that correct?’
Bemused, Sheila agreed. ‘When I last looked, yes. What’s all this about?’
‘There’s a supply drop coming your way at about noon, and we’ll need you to be on hand to receive and distribute the contents.’
‘Eh?’ Sheila almost dropped the telephone in shock.
‘The drop zone should be just off the main street, somewhere in the vicinity of Eastern House. There’s a large open space there. Do you know it?’
‘We call it the village green,’ she agreed, stammering, ‘though it’s just a field, to be honest. Common land, you know.’
‘Yes, yes,’ the man said impatiently. ‘Be there at noon to collect the supplies, and distribute them to those most in need in Porthcurno and the surrounding hamlets. We felt the village shop would make the best distribution centre. Further instructions will be attached to one of the parcels dropped by the pilot.’
‘Pilot? You mean these supplies are coming from …an aeroplane?’
‘That’s correct.’ He paused. ‘Now, I have a great many more calls to make today, as you can imagine. Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs Newton. Good day.’ And the line went dead.
Staggered, Sheila handed the telephone back to Joe.
Behind them, Violet fidgeted. ‘Who was it, Mum? And what was that about an aeroplane?’
Still unsure she wasn’t dreaming, Sheila repeated what she’d been told. ‘It’s all to be distributed through the village shop, according to that bloke,’ she added. ‘Though how he knew to ring me here, I’ve no idea.’
‘We do have several family members who work for the government,’ Joe pointed out.
‘It sounds like a good idea … Only I dunno how you’ll ever get down the hill, Mum.’ Violet was staring glumly out of the window. ‘That snow’s three or four foot in places, maybe higher.’
‘I daresay the tractor could clear it,’ Joe pondered, joining her at the window. ‘But it’ll take time, and we’ll need people with spades walking behind the tractor to make sure the path stays clear.’
‘I’ll tell the Land Girls to get ready,’ Violet said, and dashed away.
‘Aye, and you’d better get yourself dressed, Sheila,’ Joe pointed out, discreetly averting his eyes from her night attire. ‘It’s mighty cold out there.’
Sheila was soon dressed and outside in her thick winter togs, supervising the preparations for Operation Sweep, as Tilly was calling it. Thankfully, it had stopped snowing at last. But the drifts were still waist-high all the way down to the village, the track completely blocked, and the adjacent fields not much better.
The three Land Girls, armed with spades and woolly hats, lined up behind the tractor, while Violet called the dogs back inside, who’d run out into the snow after them, barking excitedly.
Joe, cloth cap pulled down low, collar turned up high, started the tractor, with the big scoop lowered all the way to ground level. Then he sent it forward at a slow walking pace, lumbering into the snowdrift that was blocking the track and scooping snow as he went.
Both Joe and the tractor were soon lost in a mess of wet snow, the three girls briskly shovelling the road behind him to clear the debris. Just watching them made Sheila shiver and draw her coat closer. It was going to be a very cold walk down.
‘Will you and Sally be coming down to see the food drop,love?’ Sheila asked her daughter on the doorstep, using their affectionate name for Sarah Jane without thinking, though she knew Violet didn’t much like it.
But Violet didn’t even seem to have noticed her slip, shaking her head as she watched the tractor disappear down the snowy hill. ‘She’s got a sniffle, poor lamb. I told her to stay in bed this morning, just to be on the safe side.’
‘Very wise,’ Sheila agreed, adjusting her thick woollen scarf. ‘Bless her heart, I hope she gets well soon. And that she don’t give it to me,’ she added darkly. ‘I’ve just shaken off one bloomin’ head cold, and I’d rather not have another, thank you very much.’
With a chuckle at Violet’s pursed lips, she set off in the wake of the Land Girls, taking it slowly down the steep track, so she didn’t slip and break her leg.
Down in the village, Joe and his tractor cleared a narrow tunnel of sorts along the main street, while the Land Girls hurried about, shovelling paths and knocking on doors where they could reach them, telling the occupants about the food parcel drop.
Sheila unlocked the shop and called up to her sister in the flat.
Margaret came downstairs wrapped in a house coat and cardigan, asking in bewilderment, ‘What on earth’s going on?’
It didn’t take long to explain, and Margaret soon began clearing a space to accommodate the food drop, looking cheerful to have the shop open again.
