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and that was the most important thing. ‘We’ll be eating soon, but in the meantime I’ll make us all a drink.’
    ‘Why…why does Gertie wear men’s clothes?’
    Hilda paused as she wondered how to answer her daughter’s question. Ellen was too young to understand so, grasping, she said, ‘I expect it’s because it’s sensible to wear trousers when you’re working outdoors, and warmer too.’
    ‘Can…can I wear trousers?’
    ‘Well, yes, I suppose so, but I don’t know how we’ll get hold of any.’
    ‘Get hold of what?’ Gertie asked, catching the tail end of the conversation as she stepped inside.
    ‘Like you, Ellen wants to wear trousers.’
    ‘That won’t be a problem. I’ve got an old sewingmachine and we can soon knock her up a couple of pairs. You’ll need some too, Hilda.’
    ‘Me! No, I don’t think so.’
    ‘We’ll see. Now then, have you put the kettle on the range?’ she asked brusquely.
    ‘I was just about to do it.’
    ‘Get a move on, and you, Ellen, can lay the table for dinner.’
    ‘Gertie, you haven’t changed and sound as bossy as ever,’ Hilda said, giggling as she added, ‘Talk about a school mistress. What next? If we don’t behave, will you give us the cane?’
    Gertie at first looked shocked, but then she too began to laugh. ‘Oh, Hilda, I really am glad you’re here.’
    ‘Can…can we have our dinner now?’ a small voice said.
    ‘Yes, all right,’ Gertie agreed, ‘and tomorrow I’ll show you how to collect eggs for our breakfast.’ ‘Where’s your dog?’
    ‘He’s been cooped up in here while I went to fetch you, but once we’ve eaten you can call him in again. I’ve a cat too, but Wilfred’s a tom and is mostly off roaming.’
    ‘Wh…what else have you got?’ Ellen asked eagerly.
    ‘Two pigs and a goat.’
    Hilda saw her daughter’s delight and smiled. It was going to be all right, and she was sure thatbringing Ellen here had been the right decision. Ellen would recover and enjoy exploring the countryside. And I’ll be fine too, Hilda decided, yet there was no way that Gertie was going to get her into trousers.

Chapter 4
    During the next five months Hilda saw a huge change in her daughter. Ellen’s stammer disappeared, and, though they were both still grieving, the horrors of living in London during the Blitz soon seemed far away. Instead of an air raid siren, they now woke up to the sound of birdsong and Gertie’s cockerel.
    The only school was on the other side of the village and, as it was a long way to go, Gertie was tutoring Ellen at home. At first she had missed the company of other children, but once spring had arrived and the skeletal trees burst into new growth, Ellen had become totally enamoured with the countryside. When not having lessons or helping out on the smallholding, she spent hours roaming the woods, bringing home all sorts of things – bugs, bluebells and other wildflowers – all of which Gertie would identify for her. Gertie also showed her how to press the flowers and leavesbefore carefully placing them in albums, and, for Ellen, a love of nature was born. Hilda’s smile was wry when she thought about her daughter’s new passion. She couldn’t feel the same. Yes, it was safe here, but she hated living in such total isolation. Gertie didn’t have a wireless, so the only news they got was when they made the hour-long trip to the village. She kept in touch by letter with Mabel and had received shocking news. Mabel’s house had been structurally damaged during a bombing raid, but thankfully she hadn’t been hurt. Mabel had then had a stroke of luck when, through the grapevine, she’d found a private landlord who offered her a flat in Clapham. It seemed that Mabel loved it there, and, not only that, it was an area that so far had been barely touched by bombs.
    It made Hilda realise how lucky they were to have left Battersea, though she still wasn’t keen on working outdoors. Thankfully Gertie always mucked out