be trouble if them Yanks moved in, that I did. I warned Lady Elizabeth, but she wouldn’t listen to me, oh, no.”
Polly tugged at the strings of her apron and tied them securely around her waist. “If you ask me, it’s the nosy old biddies around here what causes all the trouble.”
“Here! Mind your tongue, my girl, or I’ll have you thrown out on your ear, so help me I will.”
“Yeah? And who do you think will come up here and clean this house for Lady Liza then? No one, that’s who. There ain’t anyone in Sitting Marsh who’d do what I do, and that’s a fact.”
“Really.” Violet stomped past her into the shadowed hallway. “Well, there are a good few women in North Horsham who would be only too glad to have a job like this. Especially when they get all that free time and their food thrown in.”
“There’s not enough money in it to pay their bus fare.” Confident of her position, Polly picked up her bucket and turned her back on Violet. “So you’d better be nice to me, or I’ll leave and go work in the factory. So there.”
“Polly.”
She was tempted to ignore Violet’s command, but something in the older woman’s tone turned her head. “What?”
“I’ve got something to tell you. Your sister called here this morning.”
Alarmed, Polly turned all the way around. “Marlene? She’s all right, isn’t she? What did she call for? Is it Ma? It’s not Dad, is it?” Fear made her voice crack. “Oh, Gawd, don’t tell me it’s Dad!”
“There’s nothing wrong with any of your family as far as I know,” Violet said crisply. “There is something you should know, though. One of the local land girls was found murdered in the woods this morning. Your sister called to warn you, and Lady Elizabeth wanted me to tell you she’ll make some arrangements to get you a lift home this evening, so you don’t have to ride your bicycle past the woods.”
Polly barely heard the rest of Violet’s words. She was too hung up on the news of the murder. She sat down hard on the bottom stair, trying to make sense of what she’d heard. “A land girl? Who was she? Who done it, then?”
Violet shook her head. “I don’t know who she was, but it looks like that German pilot who got away yesterday killed the poor little mite. He must have been hiding in the woods, and the poor girl just happened to come across him.”
Polly frowned. “What was she doing in the woods all alone, anyway? I thought those girls always went around together.”
“Well, apparently this one didn’t.” Violet massaged the sides of her forehead with her fingers. “Anyway, get on with your work. I’m going back to the kitchen. All this upset has given me a headache.”
Polly moved aside to allow her to pass her on the stairs. She couldn’t believe it. Another murder in Sitting Marsh. Things had certainly changed since the Yanks had come to town. But at least they couldn’t blame this on the Yanks. Polly thought about the German bomber pilot hiding in the woods and shivered. Thank goodness someone was going to take her home tonight.
She pulled herself to her feet, then her pulse leapt as an idea blazed in her head. Maybe she could get Sam to take her home. Blissfully forgetting about the murder, she began a daydream about Sam and her alone in the Jeep under the stars-a dream that would last her the entire day.
The three land girls, all of whom were strangers to Elizabeth, seemed suitably impressed when Sheila introduced her visitor as the lady of the manor. Pauline, a stocky redhead and obviously the leader of the group, startled everybody when she demanded in her strident voice, “Did you come about the murder, m’m?”
Maisie stared down at her feet, while Kitty’s pudgy face turned a bright red. Elizabeth studied their reactions with interest and made a mental note to question them all individually.
“How did you hear about that?” Sheila spluttered, obviously put out at being robbed of her big announcement.
Pauline shrugged. “Biggs told me. He got it from the milkman when he came to pick up the milk this morning. He said it were a poacher what came across the body.”
Sheila’s face was quite pale as she stared at Pauline. “Did Biggs tell you who had been murdered?”
The girl looked uncomfortable. “No,” she said slowly, “but we all think it might be Amelia, ’cause she never came back from her date last night.”
“You’re sure she didn’t come back?” Elizabeth asked.
Pauline exchanged looks with the other girls. “Well, m’m, her bed hadn’t been slept in. We all went to bed early, but Amelia slipped out to meet her boyfriend. When we woke up this morning we saw she hadn’t come back.”
“And you didn’t say anything to Mrs. Macclesby?”
“Yes,” Sheila put in, “why didn’t you tell me?”
Pauline’s chin shot up. “Well, you was asleep when we got up. You always told us not to disturb you in the mornings, so we made a cup of tea and a jam sandwich and then went to work. Then, when Biggs told us a land girl had been murdered, we all decided it had to be Amelia. There didn’t seem much point in telling you she was missing after that.”
“I hope you didn’t use more than a teaspoonful of jam,” Sheila said crossly. “That stuff is rationed, you know.”
“Tell me what isn’t,” Pauline grumbled.
Maisie, who seemed to be the most disturbed by the news, looked at Elizabeth. “Excuse me, Lady Elizabeth, but did the police find out who killed Amelia?”
“We all know who did it,” Sheila declared before Elizabeth could answer. “I was thinking about it while I was upstairs. It had to be that German pilot who ran off yesterday. Who else would want to hurt such a nice young lady?”
“I can think of a few,” Pauline murmured.
“Hush!” Sheila said curtly. “Do not speak ill of the dead. Go into the kitchen, all of you, and make some coffee for Lady Elizabeth and me. And bring a plate of those broken biscuits.” She looked apologetically at Elizabeth. “Sorry they’re in pieces, but I get them off-ration, and they taste the same as if they were whole.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth assured her. “But don’t worry on my account. A cup of tea will be enough for me.”
The girls disappeared into the kitchen and, judging from the whisperings going on, were discussing the untimely death of their unfortunate colleague. Elizabeth would have given a week’s sugar ration to overhear what they were talking about.
Sheila chose that moment, however, to speculate on the whereabouts of the German pilot, and Elizabeth had to content herself with the prospect of questioning the girls later.
After sampling some of the mushy, stale pieces of broken biscuits, she swallowed down her tea too fast to be genteel, then quickly made her excuses to Sheila, who seemed unflatteringly relieved to let her go.
Thick white clouds scudded across the sky, promising a squall from the ocean as Elizabeth picked her way across the fields to where Kitty sat perched on a wagon. The land girl’s attempts to urge the weary-looking horse to pull her alongside the sheaves of corn were met with stubborn resistance. The other two girls waited impatiently, ready to toss the corn into the cart with long, unwieldy pitchforks.
In spite of Maisie’s frail appearance, she seemed to have no trouble lifting a sheaf of corn with the clumsy implement. Elizabeth was quite sure she herself could never have managed it, nor did she have any desire to attempt it. She tapped Maisie on the shoulder and noticed that the girl started quite violently as she dropped the pitchfork.
“Sorry, your ladyship,” she muttered. “I didn’t see you coming.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Elizabeth said, giving her an encouraging smile. “I was just wondering if I could have a quick word with you.”
“If you’re going to ask her about Amelia,” Pauline said shortly, “she doesn’t know anything we don’t know.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Elizabeth glanced at Pauline’s sullen face, “but I didn’t want to interrupt all of you at once.”
The horse, apparently tired of all the screeching and jerking of his reins, took a few reluctant steps forward. Pauline heaved her sheaf into the wagon, and Elizabeth seized the opportunity to draw Maisie aside.
“I just wanted to ask you how well you knew Amelia,” she said, ignoring Pauline’s baleful glances in their direction.
