Far From Home by Ellie Dean Read Free Book Online Page A

next to the tracks and clearly loved their country idyll, for there was a flourishing vegetable and flower garden, and sprawling, sweet-scented roses climbed over the roof.
    Beyond these few buildings lay miles of open country, with cows grazing and fields of wheat undulating in the warm breeze. Distant figures worked in the fields, the heavy horses pulling the reapers as the wheat was stacked in sheaves and tossed into enormous wagons. A narrow lane ran past a collection of whitewashed cottages, and much further along, among the gentle hills, Polly could see the roofs of isolated farmhouses and barns.
    It was a pleasant pastoral scene, and if Polly hadn’t been so frustrated by all the hanging about, she would have enjoyed it more. The station master and his wife were doing their best to make their short stay as pleasant as possible, but Polly was already several days late for her nursing post at Cliffehaven and her landlady, Mrs Reilly, must surely be wondering by now if she should let her room to someone else. She bit her lip as she mulled over her predicament, and then asked the station master if she could use his telephone.
    ‘It can only be used in emergencies,’ he replied.
    ‘This
is
an emergency,’ she persisted. ‘If I don’t make this call I could lose my job and my lodgings.’ She smiled up at him, willing him to agree.
    He tipped back his peaked hat and scratched his head. ‘I suppose it would be all right,’ he muttered. ‘But make it short.’
    Polly was shown into his office, and she reached for the large black telephone on his desk and dialled the number she’d written down in her notebook. It seemed to ring for ages, and she was about to replace the receiver when she heard an elderly voice at the other end of the line.
    ‘Hello? Who’s that?’
    ‘It’s Polly Brown. Is that Mrs Reilly?’
    ‘Mrs Reilly’s out. Who did you say you were, dear? Do speak up.’
    Polly took a deep breath and raised her voice. ‘This is Staff Nurse Brown, and I’m ringing to let you know I should be in Cliffehaven by tomorrow. Please will someone inform the hospital that I’m on my way?’
    ‘You’re in hospital? Oh dear.’
    Polly closed her eyes and tamped down on the frustration. ‘Just tell Mrs Reilly I rang,’ she said. ‘I’m not in hospital; I’m waiting for a train.’
    ‘It’s not raining here,’ said Mrs Finch. ‘But I’ll tell Peggy you called.’ The line was abruptly disconnected.
    Polly giggled as she replaced the receiver. Lord only knew what sort of message the old dear would give Mrs Reilly.
    She thanked the station master who’d been hovering nearby and returned to the platform, where she perched on the larger of her two suitcases in the shade of the platform roof and watched the driver, stoker and guard laboriously tap wheels, check the bullet holes in the carriages, and closely inspect the engine. They seemed to be taking forever, standing about and talking as they drank tea and smoked cigarettes – why couldn’t they just get on with it?
    She realised she wasn’t alone in her frustration, for there was a general muttering of annoyance among the other passengers. But it seemed such inconveniences had become commonplace, and everyone soon began to settle down for the long wait. The primitive facilities of the station master’s scullery and outside lavatory soon became the scenes of long, patient queues, and Polly had to accept she was stuck here for as long as it took, so she might as well make the best of it.
    As the summer day waned, she wandered down the lane and leant on a fence to watch the lovely Shires plod sturdily back and forth through the wheat. It was a scene that reminded her of her childhood, and although it looked very pretty from here, she was all too familiar with the realities of life on a farm to be fooled by it. Harvesting was back-breaking work, with stinging insects worrying the sweat on your face, flies buzzing and bits of corn and wheat getting stuck