Aware that someone had come up behind Rita, Marge looked at the newcomer. Her eyes widened, and she nudged Rita hard in the shoulder.
Rita shook her off with a testy, “Oh, shut up, Marge. You know I’m right. Her ladyship throws her weight around a lot, but it’s yours truly who does all the organizing and getting the job done. We wouldn’t have a war effort at all in Sitting Marsh if it weren’t for me.”
Marge’s mouth trembled as she smiled at the woman standing behind Rita’s chair. “Good afternoon, your ladyship,” she said loudly. “How nice to see you.”
As Nellie might have expected, Stan wouldn’t let her go, but he had agreed to bring her back food and drink, which was something. She sat waiting impatiently for the three lads to return with the supplies. Stan wouldn’t tell her what they planned to do. All she knew was that it had something to do with the American base and that it had to be done at night. She’d refused to give away any of her secrets until she’d had something to eat and drink.
She’d spent the last hour or so working out what she could tell them that would sound like she was helping them but at the same time would get them caught. The thing she was worried about was that they’d get caught and wouldn’t tell anyone where she was.
It was obvious from the rusty equipment lying around that the barn wasn’t used anymore. So many farm workers had been called up that the farmers were short-handed and had closed off some of their land until the war was over. The Land Army girls did a lot of the work, but there was only so many of them to go around.
Nellie could be dead and gone to heaven by the time someone found her. Maybe if she shouted loud enough, someone working in the fields would hear her.
After several minutes of yelling her head off, her throat was so raw she could hardly swallow. If she didn’t get something to drink soon, she was going to die of thirst. Stan had given her a few sips of sour lemonade that hadn’t helped her thirst at all.
Somehow she had to find a way to get down and escape from this place. Maybe if she could drop off the ledge and roll on the ground without hurting herself…
Nellie was considering the risks when she heard the sound of the Jeep returning. It amazed her that the field workers hadn’t noticed the Jeep coming back and forth to the barn. The building itself hid the noisy vehicle from view as it crossed the field, but surely they must have heard the engine. Then again, everyone was used to hearing Jeeps driving around and took no notice of them anymore. Stan was no fool. He’d picked a good spot for his meeting place.
Her need to satisfy her hunger and thirst chased away all thoughts of trying to escape as she waited for the huge barn doors to open. When at last they did, the sunlight almost blinded her.
Blinking, she couldn’t see who was in the Jeep at first. The doors grated closed again, and for a moment all she could see were bright spots of light in front of her eyes. Then, gradually, her vision cleared. She heard a whimpering and thought at first the boys had brought back a dog with them. Then she saw the figure being roughly hauled out of the Jeep.
She blinked, and blinked again. “Florrie? Is that you?”
The frightened woman peered up at her, crying, “Nellie! Are you all right? What’s going to happen to us?”
“Something nasty if you don’t shut up wailing,” Jimmy said harshly.
Florrie whimpered again.
Jimmy held her hands behind her back, while Robbie dragged the ladder over to the ledge. “Get up there,” Jimmy ordered, giving her a shove. “Maybe your mate can keep you quiet.”
“I still don’t think we should have brought her back here,” Robbie said, as Florrie started crawling up the ladder. “Stan ain’t going to like it one bit.”
“What else was I supposed to do with her?” Jimmy demanded. “Bury her in the woods?”
Florrie squealed and scrambled up the ladder with surprising agility.
Incensed at their treatment of the fragile woman, Nellie glared down at them. “Where is Stan, anyhow? Where is my grub?”
“He’s bringing it on his bicycle,” Robbie said, as he dragged the ladder away from the ledge again. “He couldn’t very well go into the High Street in a Jeep, now, could he.”
Nellie was about to answer when one of the doors creaked open a few inches and Stan slipped through the crack. He carried a satchel in his hand, and Nellie prayed he had something to eat and drink in there.
“I thought I told you to wait for me in the woods,” he said, scowling at his companions. “I had to bike all the way across that field.”
“We couldn’t,” Jimmy said gruffly. “We ran into a bit of trouble.”
Stan swore and dropped the satchel to the ground. “What happened?”
Jimmy jerked a thumb up at the ledge. “That.”
Florrie drew back as Stan stared up at them. “Where the hell did she come from?”
“She popped up out of nowhere. We almost ran over her. Then when she saw us she went bananas. Said she knew we’d got Nellie.” Jimmy jerked his thumb again. “That’s the name of the other one.”
Stan lifted both hands and raked them through his hair. “And you brought her back here? Are you bleeding stupid? Now we have to get rid of two of them.”
Nellie’s stomach turned over. She heard a thump behind her and looked over her shoulder. Florrie was on the floor in a dead faint.
CHAPTER 11
By the time Elizabeth arrived back in Sitting Marsh it was almost two o’clock. Having missed lunch, which she knew would not sit well with Violet, she decided to stop in Bessie’s Tea Shop and enjoy a pot of tea and sandwiches before paying Fiona a visit at Priscilla’s flat.
She wasn’t too happy to find members of the Housewives League occupying some of the tables when she walked in. Judging from the noise level, something important had happened. Praying that they had found Nellie safe and sound, she resisted the urge to slip out again unnoticed and approached Rita’s chair. Just in time to hear the abominable woman make a nasty remark about her relationship with Earl.
She was about to announce her presence, which had already been noticed by Marjorie Gunther, when Rita had the audacity to declare that Elizabeth made no contribution to the war effort.
Ignoring Marge’s stuttered greeting, Elizabeth said quietly, “How nice to know the future of our country is in such capable hands. I wonder if Mr. Churchill is aware of Rita Crumm’s magnificent contributions to such a worthy cause.”
Marge and a few of the others giggled, while Rita had the grace to look embarrassed, though she covered it well. “Lady Elizabeth,” she said, rising from her chair. “We were just talking about you.”
“So I heard.” Elizabeth nodded at the rest of the group. “Please don’t get up. I’m only here for a moment. I was wondering if Nellie has been found. I don’t see her here.”
“Not only has Nellie not turned up, your ladyship,” Marge said, earning a scowl from Rita, “but now Florrie’s missing, too.”
Elizabeth stared at her in alarm. “Great heavens! Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, m’m,” Marge assured her. “I was with her when she disappeared.”
Elizabeth listened as Marge gave a hurried account of how she’d lost Florrie.
“We’re waiting for the rest of them to come back,” Rita added when she was finished. “We’re hoping she ran into them and is coming back with them.”
“Here they come now,” Marge said, nodding at the door.
The group of women filing in through the door looked hot and weary, though they all managed a smile for Elizabeth. Much to her dismay, however, no one had seen any sign of Florrie, and had no idea she was even missing.
“Now what do we do?” Marge demanded, looking hopefully at Elizabeth.