“So are they there now?”
“I think they are in a historical museum. There is not much more to tell. Germany was cut up into four zones and for a time I was posted to Western Headquarters. One night I was told that it was my turn to be Duty Officer for all the British forces. Can you imagine? I explained that I knew a bit about health and hospitals but nothing about tanks or army divisions, however I was still left in charge. Fortunately we had only a few problems that night – the Bishop of Cologne was lost and had to be found, several lorry-loads of perishable fruit were stuck somewhere and would have gone bad if not rescued and stored or distributed, and there were a few small alarms, but nothing serious and no need to fight a German rising or an invasion from the Russian sector. The Germans in any case were too cold, starved and broken to think of anything more than survival.”
“Did you bring home any souvenirs?”
“Yes, a few. One day while I was at Headquarters, a lorry came from the Russian sector through the American sector and into the British. It turned out to be full of microscopes. That was very unusual – generally when a Russian army unit found a laboratory it smashed up everything – no doubt feeling that it was getting revenge against whoever had invented German weapons. Or else things that might be valuable were just looted and sometimes on a grand scale – the Russians removed whole factories to Russia. Anyway, there was much pleasure when this lorry-load of microscopes – some by the best maker, Leitz – came safely into the British zone. I got several of them, some so complex that I gave them to hospitals at home, but two I kept. Years afterwards I gave them to your grandfather – one was an ordinary high-class medical microscope, and I think he still has it. So, yes, I suppose I brought some useful souvenirs. Ask your grandfather to show you.
So that was my war. A few bombs and shells came near me but I was never injured, and I never fired a shot in anger – not even in the officers’ mess when we became too boisterous. If you were hoping for tales of courage and derring do, then I’m sorry but I must disappoint you. Is that enough for your homework? If you want to hear about a very different war, try to get your uncle David to tell you about the First Gulf War.”
“Thank you. I think I have lots there for my homework. And Mummy tells me Uncle David scarcely speaks about it – anyway his war was much shorter than yours. Can I bring you a cup of tea?”
“Thank you, Sam. Reminiscing makes me thirsty. I’d love a cup of tea, and then I’ll have a short nap.”
THE LANHOPE COUNTRYWOMAN
Some parts of Herefordshire seem to have more problems than others. A few events from less than a thousand miles away have been woven into this of course entirely fictitious tale.
Monday, Day One.
The Director welcomed his new assistant - and thought how young he looked. His career and references had been excellent. “Come in, Brian. I will be abroad for two weeks. I’d like you to take on the new remand lady. Don’t read her file - I’d like an unbiased opinion. Is she just unlucky or a femme fatale? Have a short chat each day, be nice to her, and see what you think. She may talk more freely to a younger man.”
In the interview room a blonde woman contrived to look both sullen and sultry.
“You want me to explain why I’m here? But I’ve explained to so many people already. From my childhood? For the Director? And remember that you are a city person? Oh very well then – I suppose so:-
As a girl ours was a council house. On both sides there were hills with crumbly rocks and old lime kilns. Father worked in chicken houses, and sometimes in hop yards. My first memories are playing while mother picked hops. I had two sisters and a brother. Mum and Dad were always hard up. We ran wild with the dogs, catching rabbits and the odd pheasant, finding badgers and collecting mushrooms. And I became quite an expert on mushrooms. There were apples to scrump and sometimes a chicken - the poultry houses contained thousands so one or two were never missed. School was in the next village, and we went by bus. Teacher was shot dead soon after I started – boy-friend trouble they said. Later I went to a bigger school until 15 when I began to serve in a shop and helped at the hairdressers. I married Mike at 18 and they gave us a tumble-down cottage in the woods if we would repair it. And then we had three children. Pretty soon Mike started to go to the pub more and more, and behave like the other village men. Now the children have gone, Mike’s dead, and here I am, only thirty-five. Is that what you want to know?
Family? My father - he’s dead. I remember a big man with a pipe and the smell of chicken houses. He was strong and slow and never minded the cold. He had huge rough hands but was very gentle, and good to us. I’ve watched Mother wring a pheasant’s neck or kill a rabbit without any difficulty, but Dad was too soft-hearted. When Mother was away I used to stand in for her and do those things. Dad used to drive a tractor, and one day he drove into a high tension cable with the arm up, and that was the end of him. Mother always said she had warned him about the wires, but I’ve wondered. She had a special friend at the time who knew a lot about electricity. She also said afterwards said that she’d told me to run and tell him about the live wires, so I was blamed, but I was never told nothing.
Mother’s old now with a terrible chest. Years of hop picking and potato lifting are pretty rough, and she smokes like a chimney. I don’t think she has many friends now, special or not. Sometimes she’d just turn up at my place looking for a smoke and a bit of company.
I don’t see much of my children. William was always a handful, I think he’s on parole now, while Penny writes each Christmas to say she’s living it up in London, and the West End is a good place if you know your way round. The youngest one’s all right. She’s nearly 16 - I made sure she went on the pill early enough, and she has a job in Tesco and lives with her boyfriend.
My elder brother left and went to London – ‘cos he inagined he was Dick Whittington - and me and my two sisters married three brothers. One of the brothers was a policeman but he was too rough - they are divorced now. The other sister lives just over the hill - she’s on her own as well. There are a few aunts and uncles - all pretty local and rough.
Is that what you want to know? Thanks for the cigarettes.”
Tuesday, Day Two.
“What’s that, doctor? How did I get on with Mike? Did I like him? Sex? Well, we knew each other from when we were small. He was the roughest and strongest of three brothers. We all ran footloose around Lanhope and fooled about. He was the leader of the gang and he picked me, so I was pleased about that. Then when I got pregnant we married. The vicar asked if I was ready - funny that really, but the vicar was very sweet. We were given a cottage in the woods as long as we did it up. There was a vegetable patch, we kept pigs, and there were always rabbits nearby. Two doctors lived around the hill and kept horses. From time to time I used to help the wife in their house - she was sometimes terribly fierce and uncontrollable and would terrify everyone in the village, but most of the time she was OK. I earned a bit extra working for her.
Mike was always big and wild. To begin with he was good with me, but angry or drunk he would thump me and terrify the children, and sometimes he would disappear for a few nights. There was a woman with a passion for insects in the next valley who slept with all the men for miles around, so I expect he was one of her specimens.
Kind? - well yes, in his way, at any rate at first. Drink and disappointment used to upset him badly - I lost my front teeth the first time he was sacked from a job. But he’d give me presents now and then - he wasn’t all bad. It was a terrible shock when he died - well I suppose it was more of a shock to him. The hair-dryer fell into the bath. You know - I might easily have died as well. I beg your pardon? Yes, I suppose it is an odd coincidence that my father and husband were both electrocuted.
Other men? Well, a bit. You know, since Mike died there have not been all that many chances like.
Thanks for the cigarettes again - Bye now.”
Wednesday, Day Three.
“Morning. It se
ems silly to call you doctor, being so sympathetic, like. What’s your name? Oh, Brian’s a very nice name - I’ve known some lovely Brians.
Tell you more about my first years of marriage? Well, we started having children pretty well straight away, but two of them died one after another when they were very tiny - simply died in the night, poor things. The house was cold so I used to tuck them well in so that they were really warm. Mike was upset - he thought babies was women’s work, and if anything went wrong, it was my fault. Anyway the later ones were strong and grew up, and when they began to read at school, I found I liked reading too.
We worked very hard, what with getting the garden going, the pigs and repairing the house, which hadn’t been lived in for years. But in those early days in an evening we would go up onto the down, and walk and look across to the village. It was lovely those days - he would say I was the prettiest girl in Lanhope, even when my belly was bulging. But then Mike would have his moods and sometimes just disappear for a night or two. There were rumours that he was up to something in the village beyond the Mast, but he would never tell me anything. He used to get real shirty if I asked. Then after a few years he became rougher and used to thump me now and then without any reason. I’ve even known him threaten me with his shotgun. My mother had warned me about his family, but me and my sisters knew better, of course. Anyway - all the brothers hit us girls, and in the early years before I started reading, I thought that was completely normal.
Then Mike started drinking more, and there were less wages coming - and that’s when I had to start working longer hours, and things began to get worse. Then there was the accident in the bath with the hairdryer. We both might have been killed, and where would’ve been the point of that? With the children and Mike gone, I used to read a good deal, and reading in here takes my mind off things. Have you any spare books which I might like? What do I read? I like Agatha Christie for the clever ways the crimes are committed, and books about the SAS.
Thursday, Day Four
“Hello, I forgot to thank you yesterday for the cigarettes. I’m sorry you must go soon and this has to be a brief chat.
Am I religious? Goodness me! Not really, though for two years I was Lady Godiva at the Parish Festival. Does that count? I quite like funerals. And I suppose I used to fancy the vicar a bit. He had a lovely little beard and a deep chocolate voice. His wife was a shrunken poor little woman, and did not look after him. I don’t support he knew how to look after her properly. She used to go for long walks, muttering to herself and sometimes I would meet her in the woods or fields. I used to talk to her though most wouldn’t. In fact I was the one that found her when she drowned in a deep pool in the little river. Then she had a specially lovely funeral. Her death brought me and the Vicar together for a time. Now and then he would drop in and I always gave him a cup of tea with a little whiskey. Some of the parishioners were quite jealous However he was moved to another parish, and when last I heard he’d married again and was much happier.
Are there things in life I regret? Well I regret being in here, but mostly I’ve done what I wanted. There’s nothing much which I would have done differently. I suppose I should have studied more at school, but that’s about all.
Thanks for the books and fags. Ooh - and the box of chocolates.”
Friday, Day Five
“Hello - Brian - nice to see you. Those chocolates were lovely. I shared a few but kept the heart-shaped ones to myself. What can I tell you about today? Our neighbours? Four brothers worked the next farm. They were all very odd and went in and out of St. Mary’s. I’ve always wondered if there is something funny about living in our hills. Eventually two committed suicide, but the other two continued farming - quite well considering how strange they were. One of them had a wife, and she left him. After that there were just these two shaggy farmers living together in a house which gradually began to fall down. Anyway, the older brother took to hanging round our house and pinching anything left out. Michael spoke to him now and then, and he would only mutter to himself and wander off. I wasn’t too surprised when he died, he was just the sort of man to keep concentrated paraquat in a lemonade bottle. We used to drink lemonade from the same sort of bottles. You have to be very careful with paraquat. Then the last brother also committed suicide, so all four had gone the same way. There’s a new farmer now, but he keeps himself to himself.
Oh Brian, I’m really sorry you have to go early again, but it’s Friday and I don’t suppose you want to hear about my troubles for long today. Where are you going for the weekend? Somewhere nice? I’ll think about you while you are away. Please bring me back something.”
Monday, Day 6
“Hello Brian - did you have a nice weekend? Tell me about it, but before that can I ask you something please? My daughter Penny is in court on Friday in London. They say you could give me permission to go. Please let me. I’ll do anything if I can get to be there and support her on Friday. I may not have been a good mum but I want to be there. Well, thank you for promising to think about it.
Your weekend sounds lovely. And I’m very glad we’re meeting in this office - it’s much more private than last week. And posh too - the Director does himself well. Are those his kinky pictures on the wall? What would you like me to talk about today? You know I’ve really come to look forward to these chats.
School? The village school was nice, apart from my teacher being shot, and even that was quite exciting for a bit. Most of the children knew each other and were related. Nobody worked very hard - we got a half holiday once when a swot passed the eleven plus - snotty snob! I learned to read and write and do enough sums for a country girl, and I discovered that I was more determined than most of the other girls, and more than the boys too. They didn’t pick on me twice.
We had a dog at home as a guard - not really a pet - he was always liable to take a bite out of anyone. Buster always limped after badger-catching days - they used to fetch twenty pounds in Myrtha. I remember the postman having a near miss - after that he left our letters down at the pub which gave Mike another excuse. If people stroked Buster he would snarl. I have never gone in for stroking dogs and cats - now a nice young man - that’s different.
Talking about Buster reminds me of the night my brother-in-law died over the hill. He was the one who shut me in a lime kiln all night when I was small. Anyway, his wife was in hospital - they’d had an argument, and suddenly his mongrel appeared at our door, and then vomited and collapsed. When Mike walked over to their house to say that the dog had died, his brother was dead on the floor - they said it was mushroom poisoning. We had been picking together that day - you can be sure I threw the rest out immediately. So my sister was a widow-woman sooner than me. We’ve had our troubles as a family, by and large.”
Tuesday, Day 7
“Afternoon, Brian. What a sharp shirt and tie you’re wearing. They make you look very smart. Is there any news about me? Or about Penny? I hope that you will be able to let me support her in court - there are some places where a mother should be when her daughter is in trouble. Please do what you can to help me.
Do I sleep well? It is not very comfortable in here and there are noises, but I suppose I sleep. The tablets help a bit. My dreams are pretty mixed - Oh - I don’t think I could remember them well enough to describe. They are not very lurid or sexy, or at any rate not often. I sleep a bit better now than before, but I think if I had more exercise I should sleep more soundly. Yes, I’m reasonably cheerful.
When I worked at the doctor’s surgery? That was quite interesting - they had various books about medicines and poisons, and a wonderful illustrated book about forensics - I used to look at it when I got the chance. They had some sex manuals also - until I read them I thought living in the country taught all you needed to know – but they opened my eyes. Sometimes when I was cleaning I took Penny with me and she would look at the books - funny I never thought of her as studious, but when she is interested she picks up things up very quickly. I fancy they i
nspired her a bit before she went to the West End.
The old house? No one is living there now - I suppose people are frightened after the stories, what with the police digging up the garden. And just because a couple of old tramps went missing. They didn’t find anything, as I could have told them. We had several pigs then. I sure there is nothing to find.
Brian, can I ask you something please? I have this little mole on my breast which I’m not happy about, and I don’t like to ask the ordinary doctor here - he always smells of whisky. I know it is not your speciality, but I should be most grateful and it would only take a minute - see here’s the place.
Oh! What gentle soft hands you have, Brian. Are you sure it’s all right? You are kind. I might find some others. No? All right, perhaps another time. That was lovely of you - you’ve no idea how worried I was, but now that you have felt it I feel much better. Isn’t it funny how you’ve no control of a nipple once it’s touched? Ah! I’ve made you blush very sweetly.
And thank you for the new books from the library - I will start them tonight - they will remind me of you.”
Wednesday, Day 8
“Come in, Brian - it seems to be a sunny day outside. I looked at the books. I opened “Interpretation of Dreams” and do you know what I found? Someone had cut a large hole in the middle for a paper-back of “Fanny Hill”. I much preferred that to the bits of the big book which were left. Shall I tell you which bits I most enjoyed? Would you light my cigarette for me please?
What do I think about hunting? Live and let live, I always say. However I was amused when our biggest pig got out and some of the hounds attacked it - porky had maimed two by the time the others were called off. The fox must have been splitting his sides watching. That was while Mike was alive - I remember him just standing there swinging his shotgun under his arm. They didn’t come our way again for a good few years. Blood sports - in the country you are not surprised by a bit of blood and there’s not all that much sport, apart now from the telly. The men did a bit of badger baiting, but I never held with that - they were much better sold in South Wales.