face was split by a wide grin. He looked a different bloke.
‘You tell her, Eddie. I wouldn’t dare.’ With a wink, Sam drove on.
He hadn’t far to go. The crew was advancing along the road and now was much closer to the point where it was crossed by Wood Way, and where a gravelled space for parking had been cleared. In summer, at the weekends, it was sometimes packed, since many ramblers left their cars there to walk out onto the Downs. That day there was only one other vehicle in the lot, a car that was parked at the back, half-hidden by the branches of an overhanging oak tree.
Sam left his van at the edge of the area, near the road, and then walked up Wood Way, over the ridge, with Sal at his heels, carrying Ada’s bundle tucked under his arm. Though the rain had stopped during the night, the air was still damp and a low grey cloud hung over the valley.
Inside the barn he found a number of spots where the roof had leaked, but none of them over the corner at the back which Eddie was occupying. The first day he had brought him over the two of them had quickly set the place to rights. It was something soldiering taught you – how to make yourself comfortable – and he and Eddie had caught each other’s eye and grinned as the same thought had struck them both.
‘It takes you back, doesn’t it?’ Eddie’s gaze was already brighter as he inspected his new billet.
They hadn’t walked over unburdened, either. Remembering the lamps he’d found, Sam had brought a tin of oil with him, and a small brazier, as well, while Eddie had lugged the bag of coke he would need to build himself a fire together with his own belongings.
‘Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll empty it each morning before I leave. I won’t burn the place down, I promise.’
He’d been as good as his word, Sam saw now. (He’d spotted the empty brazier at once.) In fact, Eddie had left few traces of his presence. The mound of hay he used as a mattress was pushed neatly into the corner, but his bedding and the rest of his stuff were nowhere to be seen and must have been stowed away, perhaps in one of the cupboards.
When they’d done all they needed to at the barn, Sam had suggested that they walk over to Oak Green so that he could show Eddie the place, not knowing what a lucky encounter was awaiting them there.
As they reached the small cluster of houses, the door of the village shop had opened and Nell Ramsay had stepped out into the narrow street. Catching sight of Sally, who was ambling along at their side, the girl had let out a whoop of delight and come running up to greet them.
Sam hadn’t noticed she was with anyone until he heard a grown-up’s voice behind him. ‘I can see we’re not going to be introduced, Mr Watkin.’ A woman had come up and joined them. She was smiling. ‘I’m Nell’s mother. I’ve been hearing for months about you and Sally. I’m so glad we’ve met at last.’
Dark-haired like her daughter, Mrs Ramsay had offered them her hand, and Sam had seen at once where Nell got her looks from. Those, and the easy way she had with people.
Learning that they had walked over from Coyne’s Farm, Mrs Ramsay had insisted that they come back and have tea with her and Nell before returning. Sam had accepted without pausing to consider, and then wondered whether she was aware, as he ought to have been, of how uncomfortable the prospect had made Eddie. (He was still in his work clothes, grimy and unshaven.) But his worry for his friend had been needless.
As soon as they’d reached the house, a handsome, double-storied dwelling a few minutes walk from the village, with a garden that stretched down to the stream, she had shown Eddie to a bathroom, saying, ‘You must be longing for a chance to clean up, Mr Noyes. Please don’t hurry. We’re going to have tea in the kitchen. It’s nice and warm there, and Sally can join us.’
She’d guessed that Eddie would feel ill at ease in her drawing room, dressed the way he was, and had dealt with the situation gracefully. Just like you’d expect a lady to. (A proper lady, that was. Not like some Sam could name. The ones who gave themselves airs.)
During the few minutes they’d had to themselves he had explained to her about Eddie. Why he was staying at Coyne’s Farm. The reason he looked so down and out.
‘He lost his job for no reason, the way people do these days. Bravest bloke I ever knew. They gave him the Military Medal in the war. Now he has to pick up work wherever he can. It doesn’t seem right.’
Sam had spoken with feeling. But he’d been surprised by the warmth of Mrs Ramsay’s response.
‘I do so agree with you, Mr Watkin.’
When Eddie returned – a lot cleaner, but still shy and unsure of himself – she had made a point at once of getting him to talk, asking him where he came from and what his background was. It had amazed Sam to see how quickly she was able to break the ice. Soon Eddie had been chatting away, telling her about his home near Hove and his mother and sister, the one suffering from angina, the other still mourning the husband she’d lost.
Listening to him, Sam had gained a new insight into his old comrade-in-arms, one he might never have been granted if it hadn’t been for Mrs Ramsay’s gentle probing. What Eddie had gone and done was take on the job of looking after these two women and lost any chance of a life of his own in the process. Sam reckoned Mrs Ramsay had seen that. At any rate, her glance, when it rested on his face, had been full of understanding.
Nor would she listen for a moment when he told her he planned to come over to Oak Green from time to time to buy provisions for himself. ‘You can’t possibly spend all day working and not have a proper meal at night. Even if I’m not here, Bess will have something hot for you.’
‘Course I will, Mr Noyes.’ The Ramsay’s cook had smiled encouragingly. A plump, red-faced woman, she had listened to their conversation with avid interest. ‘Just put your head in the kitchen door. I’ll be here.’
Dear old Eddie – he hadn’t known which way to look, what with the two of them fussing over him like mother hens. Neither willing to take no for an answer.
It had been almost dark by the time they left to return to Coyne’s Farm. Nell had slipped outside earlier – to show Sally the garden, she said – and they had walked with Mrs Ramsay around the house to the front and watched as the girl raced about in the gathering shadows, with Sal labouring gamely in pursuit.
It was the first time Sam had seen her out of her school uniform. Dressed in a plaid skirt and a Fair Isle sweater she looked more grown up. But the high-pitched cries that rang out over the wide lawn had been those of a child still.
It seemed her mother shared his thoughts. Earlier, Sam had told her about Rosie and Josh, his and Ada’s two, and now she glanced at him with a wistful expression.
‘They grow up so quickly,’ she had said with a sigh.
Smiling in reminiscence, Sam looked at his watch. It was getting on for four. Nell would be back from school soon. They might meet her on the path.
He and Sally had walked up to the ridge behind the farm after locking the barn. Sam had left Ada’s bundle on the broken washstand, where Eddie would see it.
‘Pity about that pork pie, Sal,’ he’d observed regretfully. ‘We could have done with that, you and I. I doubt Eddie’ll have room for more than a mouthful.’
Not when he was going over to Oak Green most evenings for his supper. Initially reluctant to push himself forward, he’d plucked up the courage to put his head inside Bess’s kitchen, like he’d been told to, and now he was a regular visitor there. Sam had teased him about it.
‘I reckon she’s got her eye on you.’
Eddie had just laughed. ‘I like going over there,’ he’d admitted. ‘They make you feel welcome.’ Although Eddie’s thinning hair and lined face still made him seem older than he was, he’d lost that careworn look. ‘I met Mister Ramsay the other afternoon. Did you know he was in the line, north of us, up near the coast? Wounded twice, he was. Lucky to get home. And that Nell’s a sweet lass. She comes and sits with me in the kitchen when I’m there, asks me all kinds of questions. They’re a grand family.’
Sam was happy for his old pal, but he couldn’t help wondering if his evenings at Oak Green hadn’t made Eddie think about his own life, and the chances he’d let slip by.
‘Now, don’t get settled, Sal. We’re moving on.’
He’d noticed her circling a patch of damp earth, getting ready to lie down. His own gaze had been fixed on the valley: he’d been running his eye along the length of the stream, checking for any signs of life there. At that moment the silence about them was broken by a chorus of raucous cries. Glancing up, Sam was in time to see a pair of rooks go sailing off from the edge of the wood.
When he looked down again he got a surprise: the figure of a man had appeared in the farmyard below; he was standing in the middle of the expanse of cobbles, gazing about him. Dressed in tweeds, he had a pair of binoculars in a leather case slung from one shoulder, and the sight of them rang a bell in Sam’s memory.
