Read Online Once a Land Girl by Angela Huth - Free Book Online

uncross her legs, put her elbows on her knees and cup her chin in her hands. Suddenly reckless, she felt like trying out all her poses, see if she
could get anywhere with this man. At least they had one thing in common: chickens. Not a bad beginning. She fluttered her eyelashes, furious with herself for not having bothered to put on her
mascara. ‘On the farm where I was a land girl, there were dozens of chickens, and bantams. In fact . . .’ Prue now screwed up her eyes, wondering whether to confess the small incident
to this stranger.‘. . . the day we arrived we were greeted by all these birds running all over the place, and I was stupid enough to say I’d never seen such small chickens. The posh
girl, Ag, she soon put me down. “I think you’ll find it’s a bantam,” she said, in her lah-di-dah voice. Snubbed me, all right, but we were soon friends. And, I mean,
I’d never seen a live bird before, just the dead one at Christmas for roasting.’
    Johnny laughed politely. ‘You were a land girl?’
    ‘I was.’
    ‘Well, good for you. Congratulations.’ He nodded, full of respect. Prue felt herself blush. ‘I don’t know what we’d have done without you girls. How was
it?’
    ‘Best time of my life,’ Prue said quietly.
    ‘Never be anything like it again. When it comes to history, land girls will take their place.’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘But to get back to chickens.’ Johnny returned to the window, scanned the bare lawn. ‘I don’t mean to be impertinent, but here’s an idea. Why don’t you
suggest to Barry you have a chicken run at the bottom of your garden, too? I could get you half a dozen layers to start you off. I could even build them a house – I do carpentry in my spare
time.’
    ‘I might suggest it.’ Prue went to join him at the window. She stood close to him, but not close enough to make him think she was standing close.’
    Johnny handed over the envelope. ‘Will you give him this? I just want his permission to extend my own chicken run.’
    ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I’m sorry he’s not back.’ She took the envelope, wanting to detain him for a few moments longer. ‘Do you work in
Manchester?’
    The question produced a very large smile: the slight raise of the amber eyebrows indicated self-deprecation. ‘If you can call it work. At home, not in an office. I sit at my desk looking
at my chickens, writing what I like to call poetry. But I’m also thinking of starting a market garden some miles from the city. Not a good time, of course, but I’ll persevere. During
the war I ran an allotment, gave the stuff to people who were having a hard time – sold it just for what it cost me.’ He moved away from the window. Prue sensed a slipstream of chill
replace the brief warmth. ‘I must go and shut up the birds for the night.’ Prue went with him to the front door. ‘Let me know if Barry agrees to the chicken idea. We could go off
and buy the first batch.’ He nodded towards the Sunbeam Talbot. ‘It’d be a good excuse for a ride in your swanky car.’
    Prue laughed.
    When Johnny had gone a sense of anti-climax swarmed through her, but beneath it simmered nebulous anticipation. With Johnny the chicken-lover next door, perhaps there would be new ways of
filling the days. She had enjoyed his interest in her days as a land girl.
    Prue returned to the hall. She decided on a long bath, in which to think about things. Then she would put on one of her new dresses in which to approach Barry about the chicken idea, guessing
that he would not take to it as eagerly as he had to the possibility of a baby, so she would be spared another celebratory dinner in the posh hotel. As she began to climb the stairs, Bertha
appeared from the kitchen. Prue hesitated, looking down at the housekeeper whose jagged line of top teeth dug into her scant bottom lip.
    ‘Visitor?’
    Prue nodded, blushing, even though she could not see any reason for her to be either guilty or ashamed.