‘That much money would buy Rowangarth and the stable block and the lodges and all the parkland. You’re richer than me, Daiz.’
‘I’m not richer than you, Drew. Rowangarth and the farms and all Holdenby village are worth more than ten thousand.’
‘Not a lot more, because it’s entailed. I’ve got to pass it on. And houses aren’t what you’d call security in wartime. Hitler is bombing them or setting them on fire with incendiaries and you can’t insure houses and things against enemy action – did you know that? I reckon if you’ve got your money in the bank then you’re laughing.’
‘If Hitler doesn’t come before I get it. Because it won’t be mine till next June. The solicitor in Winchester and Sir Maxwell Something-or-other and Dada are Trustees and they’ll only let me have bits of my money for special, necessary things like education or if I got very ill and there were doctor’s bills that Dada couldn’t pay. They’ve been very mean with it this far.’
‘For your own good, I suppose.’
‘I accept that, but I’d have liked to get some of it to help Keth through university when he didn’t get a scholarship to Leeds, but I’d more sense than to ask.’ She shrugged because she had never thought of all that money as hers, really. It had just been something there, uneasily in the background. Until now, that was. The ten years since they’d told her about it suddenly seemed to have flown by.
‘Well, Keth got through university all right, as it happens. And I’m glad about the money, Daiz – or I will be when it’s sunk in. Suppose Keth’s had time to get used to it, now?’
‘I think he has, though he never mentions it. When I told him he said that he wanted to be the breadwinner – buy things for me and not the other way round. It was a bit awkward I can tell you, so in the end we decided our children should have the bulk of it – good schools and perhaps ponies if they wanted them. The rest, Keth said, should be invested for their future. If we ever have kids, that is.’
Her voice began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. Such very blue eyes, Drew thought, fishing for his handkerchief.
‘Stop it, Daiz. Of course you’ll have children.’
‘Then how, will you tell me, with the flaming Atlantic between us? Have them by air mail, will we?’
‘Oh you don’t half go on about things. You’re almost as bad as Kitty when it comes to being a drama queen.’
Thoughts of Kitty led to thoughts of Bas and again to Keth who was with them still in Kentucky – or was it Washington now? But she blinked hard on her tears and blew her nose loudly. Then she took a deep, calming breath and tilted her chin ominously.
‘All right then, Drew Sutton – drama queen, am I? Well how about this, then? That money is in the bank, sort of. They invested it for me and on my birthday they always send Dada a statement about it. By the time I’m twenty-one, there’ll be more than fifteen thousand!’
‘Fifteen! Good grief! No wonder you wanted to tell the rooks about it!’
She stared at the grass at their feet, saying nothing, which only went to show, Drew thought, that Daisy too realized what a responsibility so much money was and hoping fervently that it wouldn’t make trouble between herself and Keth.
‘Tell you what,’ he smiled, getting to his feet, holding out a hand to her, ‘let’s go over to Denniston – see if Tatty’s back from Creesby yet.’
After what he’d been told, it was all he could think of to say.
‘I suppose, Sir Andrew, you’ve nobbut come to see my land girl,’ Catchpole chuckled.
‘As a matter of fact, it was the tea I came for. Knew you’d have the kettle on just about now. But if it’s served by a pretty popsy, then so much the better.’ Laughing, Drew held out a hand. ‘Good to see you again, Jack.’
‘And you, young Drew. Welcome home. And who told you our Gracie was pretty, then?’
‘Polly Purvis. Daisy and I went to see her last night.’
‘Ar. And how’s that lad of Polly’s? Heard he’d got a job over in America. Planning on stopping there, is he?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Polly seems to think Keth is agitating to get home, though she hopes, really, that he stays there. You can’t blame her. The last war didn’t do Keth’s father any favours.’
‘Keth’ll happen be wanting to get back to Daisy, though how he’ll manage it with all those U-boats about, I don’t know. But there’s nowt so queer as folk. If that’s what Keth wants, then good luck to the lad. But here’s tea, and here’s our new lady gardener.’
‘Good morning, Sir Andrew.’ Gracie stood hesitantly, a mug in either hand. ‘I saw you arrive – I’ve poured one for you, too.’
‘Hullo, Gracie.’ Drew rose to his feet. ‘Let me help you.’
‘Careful. These enamelled mugs are very hot.’
‘Don’t I know it. We use them in barracks.’ His gaze took in her thick yellow curls, held captive in a bright green snood, her shirt unbuttoned to show a long, slim neck. She didn’t wear make-up either and had a wide, ready smile. ‘Pull up a box,’ he invited.
‘If you’re sure that’s all right?’ Her eyes asked permission of the head gardener.
‘Course it is, lass. Us don’t stand on ceremony here. So tell us, Drew, how is the Navy treating you?’
‘No complaints so far, but it’s good to be home and –’
‘And you’d rather forget being a sailor, eh?’
‘Until I have to go back,’ Drew nodded. ‘It’s good to get out of uniform and not to have to do everything at the double, though when I get a ship things will be a bit less hectic, they tell me.’
‘So what do you plan doing with yourself, then?’
‘Daisy and I might go into Creesby – see a flick tonight. But no plans at all, really. I got up late this morning. I awoke at six as usual and it was marvellous not having someone yelling, “Wakey-wakey! On yer feet! Lash up and stow!” I felt peculiar in a bed, first night home. I’ve got used to sleeping in a hammock. They’re quite comfortable.’
‘But don’t you ever fall out of them?’ Gracie frowned. ‘And what’s lash up and – and –’
‘Stow. You roll up your hammock into a big sausage, then stow it in the hammock racks, all tidy. There’s two ways of doing things in barracks: Chiefie’s way, or the wrong way. You soon learn which,’ he grinned.
‘Do you like dancing, Sir Andrew?’
‘Yes, I do! Is there a dance on?’
‘At the aerodrome tomorrow night. There’s an invitation from the sergeants’ mess at Holdenby Moor pinned on the noticeboard at the hostel. They send a transport to the crossroads, the girls told me. All HM forces welcome, though it’s ladies they want most – for partners, I suppose. A lot of the girls go in dresses so Daisy could come too, if she said she was a land girl.’
‘And Tatty, my cousin – could she come? She’s mad about the Air Force.’
‘Don’t see why not.’
‘Then I hope you’ll have a few dances with me, Gracie. I need practice.’
‘That’s a promise. But