Chapter 14

Tom did seem like a nice fellow, and it warmed my heart that he cared about my welfare. His words had heightened my fears about being out alone in the countryside, but I was obliged to fulfil Mrs Willis's request. I made my way along the path to the lake and approached the stile. I gathered the skirt of my dress using one hand and held on to the fencepost with the other to steady myself. Planes continued to drone above and, shuddering, I told myself that they were merely passing through en route to London and didn't intend to harm me. As a distraction, I attempted to appreciate the beautiful scene, a patchwork of fields, and I inhaled the clean air, free of the smoke fumes that engulfed London. A train clattered on tracks somewhere nearby. The golden leaves on trees edging the field shone as the bright sun captured them. Piles of leaves lay on the ground underneath the trees and I went over to kick them with my boots. A huddle of Jersey cows, their coats a light-brown colour, gathered under a big old oak tree in the centre of the field, tails thumping from side to side.

Nearing the top of the hill, I made out the farmhouse, smoke wisping from its chimney. A tractor engine chugged nearby, and I climbed over a stile into the next field. Here, sheep chewed the grass. This field was rather steep and, as I climbed the hill, my legs aching and my breath shortening, a white shape near the brow caught my eye. What on earth could it be? As I got closer, my heart raced as I registered what it was – a parachute. Did it belong to a German spy – and, if it did, where was he now? The Walls Have Ears posters came to mind. Perhaps he'd already made his way into the village. Who should I inform about this? Tom would no doubt know what to do. A sudden urge to reach a place of safety consumed me. Gatley Hall was my only option. I must get back in case the German parachutist was close by.

A shout came from behind me, and I turned round to see three men only a few feet away. One of them was Tom. Another had dark hair and wore farming clothes, shirtsleeves rolled up his forearms. He and Tom were fighting a blond man, presumably the German parachutist, who brandished a knife that shone in the sunlight. Had it been meant for me? My chest tightened as they continued to battle with the man, who was giving as good as he got. The German attempted to stab Tom, but the farm labourer punched the attacker in the face. The knife flew towards me and I ducked, falling to the ground, as it went past me and dropped onto the grass, where it lay, gleaming in the sunlight. Tom went to pick it up. The German man lay on the ground, blood on his left cheek, his eyes closed. Tom crouched beside him and felt his pulse. The man wasn't dead, I hoped, even though he'd been planning to kill me only moments before.

‘He's unconscious, but I don't know how long for,' Tom said.

‘Are you all right?' the dark-haired man said to me in a foreign accent that was difficult to place. Surely he was an ally as he'd just saved my life as well as Tom's? Looking up, I noted he was incredibly handsome, with a chiselled jaw; an even better version of Jimmy Stewart with his thick dark hair, big brown eyes and eyelashes to die for. His shirt was undone a few buttons, displaying thick dark hair on his chest. He took my hand in his, squatting down to my level, for I was lying on my back. His touch sent a thrill right through me.

‘What is your name?' he said, his eyes locking with mine.

‘Margaret, I mean Mags,' I said, getting lost in those eyes as he studied me. I wondered what he saw. Did he find me beautiful?

He let go of my hand and stood back up.

‘I am Luca.'

Before I could answer, Tom approached, sliding the knife into the inside pocket of his jacket.

‘That was a close call. Thank you, Luca.' Tom patted his shoulder, and they shook hands.

‘Are you all right, Mags?' Tom said.

I stood up and used a hand to brush the grass off my dress. ‘Yes, thank you.'

‘You know each other?' Luca said.

‘Mags here just started working at the house,' Tom said. ‘When she said she was going for a walk, I had an inkling something wasn't right, you know, and felt the need to check up on her.' He turned to me. ‘Luca is an Italian prisoner of war on Home Farm, Mags.'

‘Oh, I see.' He was Italian. That explained his dark hair and eyes.

‘Yes, I am lucky to work for the Marshalls, who are good to me. We must go before the German wakes. Help me carry him, Tom.'

‘All right. You look rather pale, Mags. Why don't you come with us and Mrs Marshall will give you a cup of tea with some sugar for the shock. Maybe she'll have a cake or something too. Besides you need to pick up the supplies.'

‘Would she mind if I have a sit down for a bit? I don't feel ready to walk back to the house yet.'

‘She is nice lady,' Luca said. ‘Come on, let's go.'

Luca and Tom picked up the man between them, and I followed as we crossed the field to the other side. When I opened the gate to the farmyard, I noticed my hand was shaking. Geese honked in the yard and a sheepdog approached, barking at us. The front door was wide open, and a man came out.

‘Mr Marshall,' Luca said.

‘What have we here, lads?' he said.

They laid the man on the ground. ‘This German parachutist just tried to stab Mags here in the Dairy Field. Almost killed me too.' Tom removed the knife from the pocket of his jacket.

‘My goodness! Are you all right, dear?'

I nodded, unable to speak for I was rather tongue-tied.

‘She's a bit shaken, and I was hoping Mrs Marshall could make her a cuppa,' Tom said, and I was grateful to him for communicating on my behalf.

‘Of course she can. Tom, you take Mags inside while me and Luca sort out this chap. Help me put him in the back of the truck, will you, Luca, and we'll take him down to the Home Guard.'

Tom took me into the house, through a porch filled with muddy boots and shoes, and we went into a kitchen, where a woman stood at the stove, an apron tied round her waist.

‘Tom, how nice to see you. And who is this young lady?'

‘This is Mags, the new lady's maid at the house.' He explained what had happened.

‘You must have had a terrible fright. Do sit down, Mags, and I'll make a fresh pot of tea.'

She filled the kettle and put it on the stove. Tom and I pulled up chairs at the table and, before long, the kettle whistled and Mrs Marshall placed a teapot on a mat and gave us cups and saucers and slices of fruit cake. She joined us and filled our cups.

‘Make sure you have plenty of sugar in that tea, Mags. It's good for shock.'

‘Thank you,' I said, quietly.

‘How are you finding it up at the house?'

Not wanting to say the wrong thing, I said, ‘I'm settling in.'

‘She only started yesterday, didn't you, Mags?' Tom said. He seemed to be taking responsibility for me, and I was thankful.

‘I'm sure you'll feel at home before long,' Mrs Marshall said. ‘Where are you from?'

I explained about what happened in London and my reason for leaving.

‘You have been through the mill, haven't you, dear?' She finished her tea and stood up. ‘I have to pop into the village now and post some letters, but it's lovely to meet you, Mags. Do drop in for a cup of tea whenever you like. I'm always grateful for the company.'

‘That's very kind, thank you, Mrs Marshall.'

‘Mags was on her way here to collect the supplies as Sam is indisposed,' Tom said.

She opened the door to a pantry, retrieved a bag and handed it to Tom. ‘There you are, dear. Now, you two make yourselves at home and finish your tea. Just close the door on the way out so the geese don't wander in, the little blighters.'

‘All right. Thank you for your kindness, Mrs Marshall,' Tom said.

She undid her apron and hung it on a hook underneath the sink. ‘I'll see you both again soon, no doubt,' she said.

We both said goodbye.

After she'd left the room, Tom looked at me across the table. ‘What a morning, eh?'

‘My nerves are certainly suffering,' I said.

A tall and stocky woman came into the kitchen, dressed in brown trousers and a dark-green jersey.

‘Why, hello, Tom,' she said, approaching the sink and filling a glass with water. Leaning on the counter, she said, ‘Mr Marshall explained what happened just now. Aren't you going to introduce me?'

‘This is Mags,' he said.

‘Oh, Sam told me you're the new lady's maid. Poor you.' She leant forward and shook my hand. ‘I'm Pam, resident land girl.'

I recognised Pam as the woman driving the tractor when I was walking into Gatley from the station that day. She downed the water and filled the glass once again, then cut a slice of bread and joined us at the table.

‘Pleased to meet you, Pam,' I said.

She slathered the bread with butter and ate it as if she were absolutely famished. She must have been exhausted from doing physical work. I was grateful that, although my hours were long, the work was hardly arduous in comparison. Pam finished wolfing down the slice of bread and got up to cut another.

Looking up at the clock, I saw it was ten minutes to eleven. The thought of not being at the house on Lady Violet's return was a concern, especially as this was my first full day working at Gatley Hall. I had no idea how she'd react to me not being there when needed.

‘We should get back to the house before Lady Violet does,' I said.

Tom glanced at his watch. ‘Goodness, I didn't realise the time. I'll have to sort out Jack. Let's go, Mags.'

He cleared the table, putting the cups, saucers and side plates by the sink.

‘Off already?' Pam said, returning to the table.

‘We need to get back for her ladyship,' Tom said.

‘Well, that's an awful shame. It's my birthday on Friday and a few of us are going down the Old Fox for a few drinks and a sing-song. Bert will be on the piano. Please say you'll come; the more the merrier.'

Would I be allowed to take the evening off?

‘I should be able to as there aren't any events on at the house this weekend. Mags will probably need to ask for permission,' Tom said.

Nodding, I said, ‘I'll ask Mrs Willis and let you know.'

We said our goodbyes and went back outside into the farmyard. I found myself not wanting to walk through the Dairy Field, as Tom had referred to it.

‘Is there a different way back to the house?' I said.

‘There is, but it would take too long, I'm afraid. Don't worry, Mags, I'll look after you.'

His words were reassuring, but I had come face to face with death less than an hour earlier. My stomach still twisted and churned, and I was struggling to catch my breath as we walked. Despite my anxiety, thoughts of Luca filled my mind as we crossed the fields. Picturing the way he'd studied me with those dark-brown eyes, I couldn't wait to see him again.