Chapter 2

"What? This weekend?"

They were in the hospital cafeteria; Tilly leading the way, looking for a free table, Johnny following on behind with a tray of tea and cakes.

"I'm being posted next week and I don't know when I'll get another chance."

Tilly found a table and sat down, placing her bag carefully between her feet.

Johnny placed the tray on the table and sat opposite.

"I'm supposed to be on duty," she said.

"Supposed?" Johnny began, taking a mouthful of tea. He spluttered, but managed manfully to swallow it.

"For f - heaven's sake," he exclaimed, suppressing the more robust army oath which had risen to his lips. "What on earth is this?"

Tilly smiled. "The general consensus amongst the staff is that it's the floor sweepings from the tea warehouse, but some of us think it comes from a less salubrious place - a stable, for example. Of course," she mused, "its unique flavour is enhanced by making it with lukewarm water and leaving it to stand for at least twenty minutes."

"Jesus," Johnny muttered under his breath, afraid the other customers might hear him blaspheming, "It's worse than the stuff they give us in the NAAFI."

"You should try the cakes," Tilly said sweetly.

Beneath the merry banter, she was in a terrible stew. She was terrified of meeting Johnny's parents. She saw them in her mind's eye - his father, stern and forbidding with a military bearing and mutton chop sideburns, looking, now she came to think of it, very much like Kaiser Bill - his mother very stiff in bombazine, her grey hair piled on top of her head, a lorgnette held before her piercing grey eyes - both of them scrutinizing her with obvious disapproval.

She found herself tracing the rings on the table left by countless tea cups and wondered how long she could postpone the fateful meeting. Her instinct was to put it off as long as possible. There was no way they could possibly find her acceptable. She had been foolish to even consider it. The minute they met it would be all over for her and Johnny. They would put a stop to it and look around for a more suitable daughter-in-law.

"I can't wait to get home and have some real food for a change."

"What? Tilly said, startled out of her thoughts.

"Real food, you know. Fresh eggs, proper meat, butter."

She fixed her eyes on his face, searching to see whether he was joking. He wasn't.

"Fresh eggs," she repeated in reverential tones.

Suddenly they were sitting in a circle of silence. Tilly realised that the customers at the nearby tables were all looking at them with an identical hungry look. She could feel the same expression on her own face. It wasn't that they were starving exactly, the ration was adequate, but that was all it was and everyone craved more interesting food.

"Yeah." Johnny seemed entirely unaware of the effect he was having. "I can't wait to get my teeth round a nice pork chop or a leg of chicken."

Tilly felt her mouth water and was afraid she might begin to dribble.

"How come?" she whispered.

Johnny looked startled for a moment. "Well, the farm, you know."

"I didn't know your parents were farmers," Tilly said, the image of Kaiser Bill wavering somewhat.

"No, not at all." Johnny shook his head. "It's just a home farm, you know. Attached to the house. Just for the family. We don't sell the produce or anything." He hesitated. "Although I expect my mother does swaps and things. She's very good at organising."

"So what have you got on the farm?" Tilly's mouth was now very dry and she took a long drink of the odious tea. Johnny put out a hand, too late, to stop her.

"Don't drink that! I'm convinced it's poisonous."

Tilly managed a laugh. "I admit it's an acquired taste, but it's not actually poisonous."

She looked down at her hands. "Well?"

"Oh, the farm. Just the usual stuff, you know. A few chickens, couple of pigs, some sheep. And we grow all our own fruit and vegetables." He had at last become aware of the famished look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. We've always had it. I never thought about it until now." He smiled and took both her hands in his across the table. "So what do you think? Can you make it?"

Tilly struggled for a moment, weighing her fear against her greed. The greed won.

"I'll find someone to swap," she said. "It'll be a piece of cake."

****

Tilly shifted slightly in the bed. At the back of her mind was a nagging feeling that something was wrong, but she was enjoying remembering so much that she pushed it firmly away and went back ...

It hadn't been a piece of cake, actually. She had only been able to get the weekend off after a complicated three-way switch that had meant her working the late shift on Friday and consequently having had very little sleep when Johnny came to pick her up the next morning. She had greeted him with blurry eyes, feeling cross and thick-headed and not at all sure that she was doing the right thing.

"They won't like me," she mumbled, sitting in the train, her head resting on Johnny's shoulder.

"Of course they'll like you. Why shouldn't they?" He smiled down at her and she squinted back up at him.

"I'm not what they want. They won't want a girl from the East End. They'll want a debutante."

Johnny threw back his head and laughed. She frowned at him and waited for him to stop, but he was still laughing as the train began to slow down for Little Morpeth and he stood up and reached across her to get their bags down from the net.

Hers was a small overnight bag. All she needed really, as she had practically nothing suitable to bring. She was wearing the only respectable dress she owned that wasn't actually part of her uniform and even so, it was hardly up to meeting parents' standard. She hadn't brought a coat at all on the grounds that the only two she possessed were so shabby she was ashamed of them. She could only hope the weather would stay mild and dry.

Johnny, on the other hand, had an enormous kit bag. When she asked him what was in it, he said, "Laundry," and had the grace to blush.