“Exactly,” Aunt Roberta sighed. “I don’t like to think about it either, really,” she admitted. “But don’t worry, we’ll have the whole summer to enjoy with them first. We won’t do anything until Christmas.”
“And maybe the war will be over before then, anyway,” said Edie. Anything seemed possible here in the peaceful countryside. Len Snigson had met his match in Aunt Roberta. Greta had been found, safe and sound. And Belinda Barton-Withers had brought news of Fliss too. As she joined in singing lullabies to the sleepy, snuffling Twiglets, Edie suddenly felt a great wave of fresh hope. Just for a moment, she felt herself relax.
It seemed as if nothing really bad could ever happen. Not while she was here at Three Chimneys.
Chapter Twelve
Secret Codes
The Snigsons never did turn up with the proper papers, of course, and the young pigs settled in well. Two old milk churns were left in front of the post office in the village and anyone with vegetable peelings or other leftovers could donate them to the pig club. Colonel Crowther kindly offered to drive the churns up to Three Chimneys in his motorcar whenever they were full.
Everyone referred to the twin piglets as the Twiglets, of course. Although, when it was discovered they were girls, Perky thought it was funny to encourage Greta to name them Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret Rose, like the real princesses at Windsor Castle.
“Oh, Perky, you are terrible!” cried Maisie Gills, who had come to look after Greta. “You can’t name a piglet after a princess!” The poor young babysitter got such a terrible attack of the giggles that the cup of tea she was drinking went right up her nose. Her already pink cheeks turned scarlet and things were only made worse when Greta insisted on thumping her on the back – quite hard.
“Stop!” she squealed. “I don’t care what you call the wretched piglets, just let me get a hankie and blow my nose.”
Unfortunately for Perky, his suggestion was also overheard by the colonel, who had driven up early that morning to deliver the churns.
“Have some respect, lad,” he barked. Poor Perky looked as if he wished a hole in the ground would open up and swallow him. “You cannot name piglets after members of the British Royal Family. That sort of thing’s no good for morale.”
“It was only a spot of fun,” Perky mumbled.
“Silly boy,” said Greta, shaking her head as if she would never have dreamed of naming a piglet after a princess, even though her eyes had lit up at the thought.
“Just remember, young man,” said Colonel Crowther. “Princess Elizabeth will be our queen one day.”
“Do you know them, Colonel? The princesses, I mean,” said Edie, trying to draw attention away from poor Perky, whom she knew hadn’t meant any real harm. The old colonel seemed so proud and proper, she wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was personally acquainted with royalty.
“I did meet their Royal Highnesses on one occasion,” he said. “When I was dining with the king.”
“Oh,” gasped Edie. “How exciting.”
“Did they have their crowns on?” asked Greta.
“Of course.” He chuckled. “That’s how I knew they were proper princesses.”
“Golly!” Greta squealed with excitement. “Were they sitting on thrones?” she asked. “Did they have unicorns?”
“I believe they did,” teased the colonel.
But Aunt Roberta stepped in. “Come along, now. We mustn’t hold the poor colonel up. He is a very busy man. Thank you so much for bringing the churns, Colonel Crowther.”
“My pleasure,” he said, almost bowing to Aunt Roberta as if she was a queen. “I think this pig club of yours was a wonderful idea, my dear lady. And don’t you worry, I’ve got my eye on those Snigson brothers. They’re both in the Home Guard, you know. I’ve put them on extra duties. That’ll make sure they don’t get up to too much mischief.”
Uncle Peter came to the door and saluted as the colonel drove away.
“Didn’t you ever want to be in the Home Guard too, Uncle Peter?” asked Gus as they watched the colonel’s little black car rattle away down the hill.
Edie coughed and trod on his foot, hard! Couldn’t he see it was a stupid question? It seemed obvious to her that Uncle Peter wouldn’t want to have anything to do with guns and fighting any more, even if it was only practice in the fields and lanes.
“I’m not much use to them, I’m afraid. Not with this limp.” Uncle Peter tapped his bad leg. But Edie wondered if it was more about the noise and bangs. She had noticed even when he was building a pigpen for the Twiglets that he shuddered every time he brought the hammer down on a nail.
“There are plenty of other ways to help the war effort without being in the Home Guard,” said Aunt Roberta firmly. “Uncle Peter translates important documents for the government… ”
“That’s why I’m here, as it happens.” Perky dug into his postbag. “Aunty Patsy thought you might want this delivered PDQ!”
“PDQ?” said Edie.
“Pretty damned quick!” said both the boys, rolling their eyes at her.
Perky passed a big brown envelope to Uncle Peter. “Anything for me?” said Edie hopefully. She had finally received a long, newsy letter from Fliss at the beginning of the week. It began in blue ink, right back on the very first night she’d arrived at the base, then switched to green pen halfway through with news of her flying trips – although lots of that part had been scrawled out with thick black lines by the censor. Finally, Fliss finished off in pencil sending love, and a big red lipstick kiss, of course. Edie had read it and reread it a hundred times already.
“Sorry. Nowt else today.” Perky climbed back on to his bike. “See you at RCHQ later,” he mouthed. Then he rode away.
Uncle Peter’s thick brown envelope certainly looked impressive. It was covered with government seals and stamps and the word SECRET was printed in big
