Whisper on the Wind Read Online Free PDF

Birmingham …’
    ‘Well, one thing’s certain. It’s a whole lot quieter round these parts than Birmingham – or London, where I come from. Not a lot of bombing here, but we get quite a few nuisance raids. On the whole, though, you can expect to get a good night’s sleep. Has anyone told you where you’ll be working?’
    ‘Haven’t a clue. Hope it isn’t a dairy farm. Couldn’t milk a cow to save my life.’
    ‘You’ll learn, mate.’ The girl at the wheel grinned. ‘When I joined this mob I’d never been in charge of anything more lethal than a push-bike and look at me now, driving this truck.’
    Kath sat contented in the darkness of the cab, peering into the rolling blackness as if she were riding shotgun. She wished she didn’t feel so smug, so defiant almost, because at this moment she didn’t care what Barney’s next letter might bring. For just once she was doing what she wanted to do and it was heady stuff. When the war was over and Barney came home, she would be a devoted wife, keep his home clean and always have his meals ready on time. But for now, for the duration, she would enjoy every minute of being a landgirl and living in the country. If the corporal could learn to drive a truck, then Kathleen Allen could learn to milk a cow and maybe even drive a tractor. She let go a sigh of pure bliss.
    ‘Tired?’
    ‘No. Just glad I’m almost there.’ Kath smiled.
    ‘Not
almost.
This is it.’ Gently they came to a stop. ‘Careful how you get down.’
    ‘This is the hostel?’
    ‘Across the road, beside that clump of trees. Mind how you go. See you around.’ The engine started with a roar.
    ‘See you. And thanks a lot, mate!’
    The front gate of Peacock Hey had been painted white and the stones, too, that lined the path to the front door. Kath walked carefully, feeling for the doorstep with the toe of her shoe. She couldn’t find a bellpush, so knocked loudly instead, waiting apprehensively.
    From inside came the swish of a curtain being pulled, then the door opened wide.
    ‘Where on earth have you been, girl? We expected you before supper. It’s Kathleen Allen, isn’t it?’
    ‘That’s me. Sorry I’m late. The –’
    ‘Oh, away with your bother.’ The tall, slender woman drew the blackout curtain over the door again then switched on the light. ‘Trains bad, I suppose?’
    ‘Awful. I got a lift, though, from York.’ She looked around at the linoleum-covered floor and stairs, at the row of coat pegs and the letterboard beside the telephone. It reminded her of the orphanage, yet her welcome here had been warm, and there was a vase of yellow and bronze chrysanthemums in the stair alcove. The flowers comforted her, assured her it would be all right. She had a theory about houses – they liked you or they didn’t. Either way it showed, and Peacock Hey liked her.
    ‘I don’t suppose there’d be a cup of tea?’ she asked, nervously.
    ‘There would, lassie, but let’s get your case upstairs, then you can come down to the kitchen and have a bite. Cook lives locally and she’s away home, but she left you something and I’ve been keeping it hot in the bottom of the oven.
    ‘Afraid you’re in the attic – oh, I’m Flora Lyle by the way. I’m your Forewoman.’ She held out her hand and her grip was warm and firm. ‘I hope you don’t mind being shoved up here? It’s cold in winter and hot in summer, but it’ll only be until someone leaves and there’s bedspace for you in one of the rooms. We shouldn’t really use the attics – fire-bomb risk, you know, but I don’t suppose there’ll be any, and there’s sand and water up there, just in case. And you
will
have a room to yourself,’ she added, as if by way of compensation. ‘It’s just that we’re so crowded …’
    ‘It looks just fine to me.’ Kath set down her case and gazed around the small, low-ceilinged room, saw a black-painted iron bed, mattress rolled, blankets folded, a window hung with blackout curtains