Women of Courage, page 5
‘Thanks, Laura.’ Grace waved as the milk float pulled away and Laura put her hand out and waved as she made a dash for home before it got dark.
‘Father,’ Grace yelled, opening the front door to the vicarage. ‘Eleanor is here.’
Richard came out of the parlour, nodding and smiling. ‘It is very good of you to come,’ he said, reaching out to shake hands.
‘It is both my pleasure and my duty.’ Eleanor smiled broadly whilst shaking the vicar’s hand.
‘Unfortunately, I have to go out now,’ said Richard, reaching for his duffle coat from the coat stand. ‘I need to start my rounds early tonight as London’s ‘Blackout Ripper’ is causing tremendous fear amongst the ladies, most are frightened to go out on their own after dark now. Honestly, it is almost too much to bear; as if the war wasn’t terrifying enough we have to have a mad man on the loose. I am praying diligently that this lunatic is caught very soon, for although he is in London, the extent of fear he radiates has reached the far corners of Britain, including Newton Le Willows.’
Grace reached up and kissed him on his cheek. ‘Be careful, Father.’
‘Always am, my love. Always am.’
Grace waved him goodbye as he set off up the High Street, before closing the door.
‘He is a warden?’
‘Yes, being a vicar meant he didn’t have to sign up, but he wanted to do something, so when the Home Office gave out the call for Air Raid Precaution wardens he signed up straight away. He takes his role very seriously, as he does everything in life. Come into the kitchen, it’s the warmest room in the house.’
Grace flicked a match and put the kettle on. ‘Please take a seat. I have soup to warm up, it won’t take long. Are you hungry?’
‘Rather famished, actually. I did make some sandwiches for the journey, but this little chap just kept looking at me and I had no choice but to offer them to him. Never seen a child wolf down food so quickly.’
Grace’s eyes sparkled as she smiled at Eleanor, knowing instantly that they were going to get on like a house on fire. ‘It’s only vegetable soup I’m afraid, but it’s mighty hearty and I have plenty. Let’s see if I can fill you up.’
Eleanor gave a little snort. ‘Ha, you will have a hard job there. According to my mother, I have hollow legs.’
Grace found herself laughing as she poured hot water into the teapot. ‘She’ll be glad you’ve come to stay with us for a while then.’
‘Sure, she would be, if she was still here. She caught pneumonia a few months back, didn’t make it.’
‘Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry.’
‘Hey, cheer up. It is okay. She had a good innings. She always said she had a happy life full of love. No regrets... well except for not seeing me get hitched, that is.’
Grace picked up a cup and passed it to Eleanor. ‘Is there someone special in your life, then?’
‘Good heavens, you mean, do I have a beau? Certainly not. I want to live a little before I get tied to the kitchen sink.’
‘There is more to marriage than washing dishes.’
Eleanor looked at Grace to see if she was being serious. When Grace showed no signed of joking, it tickled Eleanor’s funny side and she burst out laughing.
‘You country girls do make me laugh,’ she said wiping her tears away with her sleeve. ‘I think when this war is over I should take you to London and show you how marvellous being single can be.’
‘I would quite like to see Buckingham Palace, but as for visiting London with no other reason than living it up, well I’ll pass if you don’t mind. I’m rather fond of the country, and I am very much looking forward to being tied to the kitchen sink, as you say.’
‘Aww, so you have a sweetheart. Come on then, tell me all about him. What is his name?’
The evening flew by as the two got to know each other. After dinner, Grace pulled blankets down over all the windows and switched on the paraffin lamp, which she hung from a hook in the ceiling over the table.
‘Have you ever worked on a farm before?’
‘Golly gosh, no. Nearest I have ever been to a cow is pouring myself a glass of milk.’ Eleanor laughed at her own wit. ‘Moreover, as for tilling the land, well, I do not even have a window box for flowers. I have to confess I do not have green fingers.’ She paused for a moment, fiddling with her hands. Then she looked up and grinned at Grace. ‘I am willing and able, though.’
Grace caught a hint of sadness behind Eleanor’s jolly words and wondered what her history held. ‘We have an early start tomorrow, shall we turn in?’
‘Yes, I think that would be grand. I have enjoyed this evening very much, but I have to say all this talking has me quite exhausted.’
Grace stood looking at the door, wondering what to do. She had tapped several times with no response. She didn’t want to hammer on the door and wake her father, who had come home very late, but didn’t want to open the door and frighten Eleanor to death either. In the end she decided giving Eleanor a little scare would be more favourable than waking her father. She tapped two more times for good measure, then turned the handle and slowly pushed the door open.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered, as she reached out and touched Eleanor’s shoulder.
Eleanor screamed and jumped out of bed, giving Grace a shock, who herself staggered backwards and banged into the wardrobe. A box on top of the wardrobe came crashing down next to Grace, making both women scream.
‘I am not alone,’ Eleanor yelled, ‘you’d best get out of here before my husband gets to you.’
‘Eleanor? It’s Grace. Grace Clifton. You’re at the vicarage, in Newton Le Willows.’
‘What on earth’s going on?’ Richard came into the room tying his dressing gown.
‘Oh Father, I gave Eleanor a scare, I’m sorry to have woken you.’
‘Right, okay then. If you’re fine, I will take myself back to bed.’
Grace waited for him to leave before turning on the light. After a moment of squinting, her eyes became accustomed to the bright light and she sought out Eleanor. Eleanor was standing with her back to the wall, still clearly in shock, her fingernails impaled into her hands.
‘Eleanor, are you okay?’ Grace moved across the room quickly and put her arm around the woman, who didn’t answer. ‘Come and sit down for a moment. I’m so sorry to have frightened you like that, I’d never have come in if I realised it would cause you such stress.’
Eleanor started crying. Her shoulders shook as a flood of fear-filled tears fell down her face.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ said Grace, squeezing Eleanor in the tightest of hugs.
It was a few minutes before Eleanor managed to compose herself again. ‘I am all right, sorry about that.’ Eleanor blew her nose loudly on a handkerchief that had been on the bedside table. ‘I guess my mother’s death, on top of all the horrific things that are going on in London has taken its toll on me.’ Eleanor could tell by Grace’s face that she didn’t completely understand why she had been so scared. ‘My best friend was raped last week, by burglars. It is why I left London so quickly. I just had to get out of there.’
‘Oh no, that is dreadful. You’d think, with the horrors of war, and the bombing and everything, that would be enough to make people do the right thing. It’s so hard to understand why everyday crime continues. I just don’t get it. I’m so dreadfully sorry to hear about your friend, is she okay now?’
‘Not really. Luckily, her mother has a sister in Dorset so they have gone to stay with her, to try to help Jane recover. I simply couldn’t bear to stay in London on my own but they didn’t have enough space for me to go with them. They have taken in five evacuees, apparently, doesn’t leave them much space.’
Grace dried her face with her sleeve. ‘Well, you’re with us now. You don’t have to be on your own any more, and I hope we can make you feel safe.’
‘Maybe I should look for an alarm clock today? So you don’t have to wake me again?’
Both women chuckled.
‘I think that would probably be a good idea.’
Eleanor walked into the kitchen just as Grace was filling two bowls with porridge.
‘It’s still dark outside!’
Grace saw the indignant look on Eleanor’s face and grinned. ‘You’re lucky. Giles said I could break you in gently so we’ve missed the first round of chores. Tomorrow we will be getting up at five.’
‘Nooo...’
Grace got the giggles. ‘Oh, I’m going to enjoy having company.’ She put the pan back on the stove and came back to the table to sit opposite Eleanor, who was looking into her bowl in distress.
‘There’s nothing like a bowl of porridge to keep you full until lunch time.’ Grace offered Eleanor a small jar. ‘Honey on top helps wash it down.’
Eleanor took the honey and poured a spoonful over her steaming breakfast. ‘You don’t eat this every day, do you?’
‘No. Only on good days.’ Grace heartily tucked into her porridge. When she was half way through, she noticed that Eleanor hadn’t picked up her spoon and was still looking into her bowl. ‘It tastes better than it looks, honest.’
Eleanor took the plunge and picked up a spoonful. Her eyebrows were high up her forehead as she ate. She nodded. ‘Not so bad, actually.’
‘It’s even better with cream poured over it, but I’ve not had any cream since the rationing began.’
Eleanor gulped down another spoonful. ‘That’s dreadful, you mean we’re going to work on a farm and we don’t get any perks?’
‘Absolutely not. Rationing is here for a very good reason. I wouldn’t want to be seen as abusing the system by taking free issues off Giles. Besides, he would get into awful trouble if the police found out.’
‘How exactly would the police find out?’
‘I don’t know. Anyway, even if they didn’t find out, God would know, and I won’t do anything that I might be ashamed of facing up to when I stand before Him.’
Eleanor choked on her last spoonful of porridge.
‘Here,’ said Grace, passing her a cup of water.
When the coughing had stopped, Eleanor looked at Grace. ‘You’re kidding me, right? You actually believe God would care if you took a jug of cream?’
Grace sat back in her chair and thought about how to answer. ‘I believe that God is concerned with every tiny aspect of my life, and yes, I think He would care if I broke the rules.’
‘Seriously? There is a war going on, men are killing each other. There is starvation around the world, people are doing dreadful things, and you think God would notice if you took some cream?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re nuts.’ Eleanor picked up the bowls and went to the sink. Rolling up her sleeves, she poured some hot water from the kettle over the dishes and then started cleaning them. She was obviously bringing the conversation to a close and Grace wondered what to do. Not able to formulate a clever answer, Grace decided to leave it for another time.
The bike ride from the vicarage to the farm took them half an hour. By the time they arrived, the early morning mist was beginning to evaporate and the cool breeze left Eleanor feeling fresh, and very, very wide awake. Her eyes were sparkling when she propped her bike against the shed.
‘Are the birds always that noisy in the morning?’
Grace laughed. ‘I’m afraid so. Come on, let’s see if Giles is still in the cottage.’ They walked across the cobbles and before they reached the house, the door opened.
‘Mornin’, Grace. You must be Eleanor. Thanks for comin’, we need all the ‘elp we can get. Grace, I’m gonna ‘elp the lads in the fields, can you show ‘er around? After that, could you get started in the sheds?’
‘Will do.’
‘Thanks chuck.’ Giles tipped his head at Eleanor, and then went striding across the cobbles, two Border Collies leading the way.
Grace glanced at Eleanor’s slightly bemused face. ‘We don’t go in for formal introductions around here. But trust me, Giles is mighty pleased you’ve come to help. There’s a great emphasis on all farmers to produce more and more, and they can’t do it without help. Since the German submarines have been targeting our food supply we’ve become fiercely reliant on our own farms. The pressure is great.’
‘No time for pleasantries, you’re telling me.’
‘Afraid not. There’ll be a chance to say hello properly at noon, when we gather together for something to eat. Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour.’
The first day flew by. By teatime, Eleanor’s body was protesting, with aches and pains appearing in places she didn’t know she had muscles. The bike ride back to the vicarage wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be as the lanes were either sloping downwards or on the flat. Still, riding over the rough stony lanes was a battering too far for her backside, and she nearly collapsed when they got off their bikes.
‘I think I may walk tomorrow, if it’s all the same to you.’
©ImperialWarMuseum
A Blitz Too Close
20th December 1940
Life goes on... that’s what they say, with good intentions. But Grace didn’t feel like life was going on, she felt she was moving through each day in slow motion, like an old film sticking in the reel and begrudgingly jolting from scene to scene.
Her morning prayers were getting shorter by the day. It was hard to ask God to intervene, to keep them safe, whilst thousands of innocents died. She had beseeched the Lord so many times that He would show His hand and create a miracle that would cause this incomprehensible killing to end. There was no evidence that He heard her. There had been many times when she might have questioned her faith. Eleanor, for example, could see no reason to love a God that would allow such suffering and dismissed Grace’s faith frequently. Yet, one thing glued Grace to her faith, the memory of the light in the church and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that He existed. Why He should remain silent through such horror she was unable to comprehend. She didn’t know how to explain if anyone asked this question, and this left her feeling empty and bemused.
Eleanor’s scorn of her faith was the only thorn in their friendship. They got on well, and surprisingly, found something to giggle about nearly every day. But, even after nine months of living in the vicarage, Eleanor was yet to take a single step inside the church. Nothing Grace or Richard said would convince her that God was real. She outright refused to learn anything about a God who would allow such suffering.
Richard had cautioned his daughter about trying too hard to convert her, reminding Grace that free will was the right of everyone. It was Grace’s complete inability to get Eleanor to see the truth which made Grace reflect on the fact that she hadn’t converted a single soul to the Lord. Day after day this piece of information began to eat away at her and a feeling of shame crept into her heart.
One evening, on a rare occasion when her father was home, Grace and Richard sat reading their Bibles in the lounge. No longer able to contain the burden of her failure, she found herself pouring out her feelings.
‘Father, how many people do you think you have led to the Lord?’
‘Umm, I’m not so sure. What makes you ask?’
‘It has occurred to me that I haven’t led a single person to Jesus. I... feel like a fraud. How can I love God and not be able to convince anyone about Him?’
Richard leant back in his chair and was silent for a few minutes. ‘Why do you want to lead people to Jesus, Grace?’
‘That’s a silly question. We are told to go and make disciples; it is my duty to tell people about Jesus. Unfortunately, for some reason it has only come to my mind in the last few months that I have never, in my entire life, converted anyone. I’ve let God down, I’m a failure. No wonder He doesn’t answer my prayers.’
‘Oh dear, Grace.’
‘I know, it’s awful isn’t it. I have decided to make it my life’s mission now to convert as many people as possible.’ Grace was looking intently at Richard but he had closed his eyes. She wanted him to reassure her that it didn’t matter if she wasn’t leading people to the Lord, that she filled her life with good deeds and this was enough. Plus, she still had time, didn’t she?
After what felt like an eternal moment of agony, Richard opened his eyes and gazed at her with such love and tenderness. ‘The heart Grace, the heart.’
Her forehead squished into lines as she stared at him, not understanding.
‘From the first page of the Bible until the last, God tells us over and over again, it is about our heart. Not deeds or actions, but intentions and motivations. It would not matter one iota if you led someone to the Lord or not, so long as your heart is full of good intentions and your motivation for trying to enlighten someone is for the glory of God and not a score list you may be keeping.’
Grace felt herself welling up. In the gentlest way, she felt rebuked. ‘But the Bible says we should lead people to Him.’
‘Exactly, Grace. You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink. Your duty is to reflect the Glory of God in your actions and to tell people about Him whenever you have opportunity, but it is between God and the individual as to whether they accept Him or not. If God wants to use you as a vessel to draw people to Him, don’t you think He would do so? He only needs your heart to be open and your motivations to be pure, then He’ll use you to evangelise. But Grace, you must remember, if someone chooses not to accept what you are sharing they have that right, and you are not to blame. I’m sure the Lord has Eleanor in the palm of His hand and He’ll take care of her. Just love her for who she is.’
Grace smiled. Of course her father would know where her worries were stemming from. ‘I do, Father, she is very dear to me. In fact, I feel like she’s the sister I never had. I just want her to know the love of God and to feel His peace so badly.’
‘My ears are burning,’ said Eleanor coming into the room.
‘So they should be, my dear, for we are constantly talking to God, about you.’
Eleanor went over and dropped a kiss on Richard’s forehead. ‘So long as you are talking to God about me, and not me about God, then I give you my blessing. Now, Grace, how do you think I look?’
