In Farleigh Field: A Novel of World War II

“Any news on your sister Margot?”

Pamela’s face clouded. “Not for ages. It’s awfully worrying. One hopes she is holed up somewhere with her French count, but one does hear terrible things about what’s going on in France these days.”

“And the two young ones are still at home? Or has Dido found herself a job?”

“She’d love to, but Pah says that nineteen is too young to be away from home. She’s positively bursting with frustration. You know Dido—not the sort to sit at home and practise the piano. I suppose I can understand. It’s very unfair on her that she won’t get a season like the rest of us. No dances. No chance to meet eligible men. Last time I saw her, she was talking of running away and going to work in a factory.”

“I’m sure she could find a job less dramatic than one in a factory,” Ben said. “Couldn’t you find someone to take her on where you work? They always seem to need extra girls for office work, don’t they? She could billet with you.”

“Unfortunately, I’m already sharing a room with a pal,” she said. “What about your ministry? Could you do something for her? She could probably take the train up to London every day if she had a job. Pah might not object to that.”

“We work shifts, that’s the problem. She wouldn’t be able to find a train up to London in the middle of the night, and I’m sure your father wouldn’t want her walking around in the blackout. It’s hard enough for me, and I simply have to get to the nearest Underground station.”

Pamela made a face. “I know. I work shifts, too. It’s beastly, isn’t it? My body never gets used to night shifts, and I feel awful with no sleep.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ben said. “Actually, that’s why I was lucky enough to get some leave. They said I’d been overdoing it.”

There was a snort from one of the elderly women by the window. “Overdoing it,” she said, turning to glare at Ben. “You want to try being out in the desert like my grandson. Fighting Rommel, that’s what he’s doing. Not sitting comfortably in an office in London.”

“That’s enough, Tessie.” The other woman reached across to rest a hand on her friend’s. She looked across at Ben and Pamela. “She’s had a shock. Her son’s just been called up—at thirty-nine years old. She’s only got the one son.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said, “but . . .”

“Mr. Cresswell survived a very bad aeroplane crash,” Pamela said angrily. “Show them your leg, Ben.”

The first woman went bright red. “Oh, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. I’m upset, you see. This war’s making all of us on edge, all of the time.”

There was an embarrassed silence in the compartment.

“The boys where I work get the same thing,” Pamela muttered to Ben. “It’s so unfair. Not everybody needs to carry a gun. Wars can’t be won without the right kind of support.”

“Sometimes I’m tempted to go out and buy a uniform,” he said. “It would certainly make things easier.”

“Until they asked to see your identity discs and you weren’t wearing any.”

Identity discs, Ben thought. That parachutist would have been found out as soon as any military police stopped him and asked for his number. So he definitely wasn’t planning to go far. Max Knight was right. His contact had to be in the immediate neighbourhood.



They changed trains in Sevenoaks and waited for the local train to go one stop to Hildenborough.

“It’s a long walk from the station these days,” Ben said. “It’s too bad trains stopped calling at Farleigh Halt.”

Pamela laughed. “We can’t expect trains to stop just for us during wartime, Ben. At this moment being an aristocrat means nothing, and quite right, too. Suddenly, we’re all equal.”

“Is someone coming to pick you up?” Ben looked around for a waiting car.

Pamela shook her head. “I didn’t tell them I was coming. I thought I’d surprise them. Everyone needs the occasional nice surprise these days, don’t they?”

“I didn’t tell my father I was coming, either. Are you up to a couple of miles with a suitcase? I can carry it for you if you like.”

“You have your own bag,” she said. “And I’m fit enough to do it. We do a lot of bike riding to get around where I work. It’s a glorious day, isn’t it? A walk through the countryside is just what the doctor ordered.”

“It’s certainly nice to breathe good fresh air again,” Ben said as they set off down a lane. “The air in London is perpetually full of smoke and dust from bombs.”

“I’m lucky. I’m out in the country, and I have fields and trees around me.”

“Where exactly did you say you are?” he asked.

“About an hour north of London. We’ve taken over a big house. Definitely not as pretty as Farleigh.”

“Some of our boys are being sent out to Blenheim Palace.”

“Golly. That’s quite a step up for most people, isn’t it?”

Ben laughed. “I gather from reports that it isn’t particularly comfortable. They’ve partitioned it into horrible plywood cubicles, and there is no heat, and bats inhabit the top floor.”

“Sounds lovely.” She looked up at him, and his eyes held hers for a moment. He had awfully nice eyes, she thought suddenly. That deep greeny blue, like looking into the ocean. Strange that she’d never noticed before. “I’m so glad to see you again,” she said at last. “You never change. I feel as if you’re dear Ben, steady as a rock. Always there for me.”

“That’s me. Good old Ben,” he said, then regretted his sarcasm. “But yes, I am always there whenever you need me.”

She reached across and slipped her hand into his. They walked side by side in silence while larks rose from new hayfields, singing overhead, and the scent of apple blossom was sweet in the air.

“Will you come and see Jeremy with me this afternoon?” she asked eventually, breaking the spell.

“I said I would. Why don’t we both stop off at my father’s place and have something to drink, then I’ll carry your case the rest of the way to Farleigh with you.”

“Lovely.” She gave him that dazzling smile again.





CHAPTER TEN


All Saints vicarage, Elmsleigh, Kent

May 1941



The vicarage was a big redbrick Victorian building at the edge of the churchyard. They passed the weatherworn gravestones, and Ben let himself in at the front door. It was never locked.

“Well, I never. Mr. Ben!” Mrs. Finch threw up her hands in surprise, coming out of the kitchen at the sound of the door closing. Then the look of surprise turned to astonishment. “And Lady Pamela, too. It’s good to see you, your ladyship.”