The Tenants Of Fell End Farm Part Five

Lynn was unconcerned, 'Yes. Mr Lavenberg who I worked for, knew Benny Rothman, the man who organised the kinder mass trespass.'

'But that man's a communist,' The vicar was aghast.  'We have nothing to do with that sort of thing here,'

Lynn laughed unaware that Jean had placed a restraining hand on her arm.  'What about Alf Holdsworth.  He's a good Left Winger.  He's just been made an official of the Postal Worker's Union.  He's going to stand for Labour in the Parish Council Elections.'

Pandemonium broke out at the vicarage.  Above the babble the vicar demanded, 'What on earth would that idiot Holdsworth do on the council?'

Amazed at the furore she had caused, Lynn said, 'Well he wants to get a row of council houses built for a start.'

The tumult increased.  'I will take the tenancy off Emmott if you do as you say will young woman.  There will be no Ramblers on the Chandler Estate I can tell you that,’ Renton stormed.

Jean looked round in desperation and saw the maid Daisy stood saucer eyed in amazement.  'Why don't you go to the kitchen with Daisy and have a cup of tea,' she said to Lynn.

Lynn was puzzled, 'Why, what have I said.'

'Just go,'

'No,' she answered defiantly, 'I want to know what I have done wrong....Andy?'

Andrew said, 'You should have talked to me first.  I don't want people trampling all over the farm.'

'But they won't trample over anything, they have rules.  They are very well behaved.  They only walk on the footpath.'

Andrew spoke doubtfully, 'Well I suppose that would be alright.'

'Like hell it would,' Renton interjected.  'If you let her get in touch with the Ramblers Association you had better arrange your farm sale because I Will turn you off the farm quicker than you can say Jack Robinson.  In fact I think you have made a bad choice of a wife Emmott.  She's not suitable.  She's a damned radical.  That old Jew boy taught her too many tricks..If you have any sense you will look for another wife.'

Andrew was now as angry as Renton, 'Don't tell me who I can marry.  I am marrying Lynn.'

'Fine,' Renton responded.  'You have a month to get off the property Emmott.'

'Andrew was white faced and tight lipped, 'Right Mr. Renton.  To hell with you'.  He turned to Lynn, 'Come on Lynn, Let's get out of here.'

'No Andy, you can't lose the farm,' Lynn said.

Andrew's face was taught with tension, 'I would rather lose the farm than lose you.  I'll get a job somewhere, You'll see.'

'No,' Lynn was quietly resolute.  'You would hate it.  You are a farmer and Fell End is your home.  I'll not be responsible for you being evicted.  That's no way to start married life.'  She turned to Renton.  'I will not get in touch with the Ramblers association if it's such a bad thing.  I will do whatever you want.'

'Aye well, that's better.' Renton was somewhat mollified.  'You just talk to your prospective husband before you make any more daft decisions.  And don't you be glaring at me Emmett,' He warned.

'Aye, right,' Andrew replied sullenly.  Nodding to the vicar he put his arm around Lynn and led her to the door.

As the meeting broke up Jean said, 'Still ruling with a rod of iron Sandy.'

'Och come on Jean,' Renton protested, 'if I had let that pass, ramblers on his grouse moors, his Lordship would have had my guts for garters.  Mark my words, that lassie is trouble.'

When Jean left, the Vicar, Gwen and Renton repaired to the library.  ' Brandy, Renton?'

The Scot nodded.  Gerrard poured the drinks and a sherry for Gwen.  Gwen was agitated.  She said, 'Mrs. Hardman says the business people are saying there is going to be a war.'  Her brother Martin had been blinded at the Somme.  Their Son, Neil, was in his final year at Cambridge.  The thought of another war horrified her.  The Vicar spoke soothingly, ' We all hope it will not come to that Dear.'

'It's all the young gentlemen are talking about when they come shooting,' Renton observed.  'In my opinion it was a mistake to allow the Germans to re- arm.'

The Vicar spoke testily, 'Something had to be done.  The Soviet Union grows stronger by the day.  Surely Russia is the danger here. ‘ 

Sandy Renton had served with the Highland Light Infantry, he said,  “I hate communism Vicar but I'm telling you, If  you give a gun to a German with a grievance, He'll fire it at you.'

The Vicar sighed, 'We must pray for peace and stability.' He spoke fervently, It is surely not beyond the ability of men of good will to stabilise the world situation and come to lasting peace treaties.'

'And if they cannot?'  Gwen asked.

Clarence Gerrard spoke gravely, 'Then we will all do our duty.'

When Sandy Renton's business was concluded he left.  Alone Gwen tried to lift her husbands sombre mood.  'I'm so glad you agreed to the wedding Clary.'

The Vicar turned and smiled wearily at his wife, 'I'm not sure I am doing the right thing.'  His mood lifted slightly.  'Looking on the bright side,' he mused, 'it will be a eugenically correct marriage.  They are both good Anglo Saxon types.'

Andrew and Lynn were married in the last week of January.  It turned out to be quite a social event.  Andrew had finally met and quite taken to Jean's husband and Sid had thrown himself into the wedding arrangement's.  He gave Lynn away and in a very funny speech, making a virtue of the fact that he new very little about her.  David Nicholson was the best man and Daisy the maid at the vicarage was chief bridesmaid.  They were a likeable young couple and the gossips were silenced.  The reception was held at the Laycock Inn.  Sid was a keen amateur pianist and he and Alf Holdsworth vied with each other, each taking it in turn to keep the music going.  Their tastes were different.  Alf's repertoire was more traditional, the old music hall songs but, to the annoyance of the Vicar, who could hear the revelries at The Laycock Inn from his garden, he had taken up the popular fad for cowboy songs.  Gerard was at a loss to understand why his parishioners, Living as they did, in a small English village in the Pennine hills, should sing with such gusto, songs like Heading For The Last Round up, Empty saddles In The Old Corral and Roll Along Covered Wagon.  Sid played more sophisticated music: I'm In The Mood For Love, I've Got You Under My Skin and The Way You Look Tonight.  The  transatlantic flavour of the entertainment continued to annoy the Vicar.  He did however, draw comfort from the fact that the young couple enjoyed their day in a responsibly sober way.  They were always a rackety lot at Fell End Farm but never topers he noted.  Gwen enjoyed the event, even by popular request, playing a medley of Gilbert and Sullivan tunes to great applause.  Gerard admired his wife's common touch.  He was an austere, disciplined man, a Classics Scholar.  Both he and Gwen had independent incomes but they both worked tirelessly.  Clarence Gerrard ministered to all his parishioners equally regardless of their station in life.  Gwen worked in support and did charity work that made a real difference to the poor of the parish.

The newly weds spent their honeymoon at the Metropole Hotel at Blackpool.  Sid insisted on paying for everything.  Lynn new and loved Blackpool having come for holidays in the good times when her parents where alive but she had never stayed anywhere as grand as the Metropole Hotel.  She marvelled at the décor, The beautifully dressed women, the delicious food and the entertainment.  A dance band provided the backdrop to the nights festivities.

Andrew found it all strange.  He had never seen the sea and had never ridden on a train before.  He had dreaded the honeymoon in Blackpool feeling he would be out of place and clumsy but he too began to enjoy himself and gain in confidence.  Lynn had dressed him in a modern suit with a black overcoat and white silk scarf.  She had combed his hair and made him slick it down with Brylcream.  She was delighted with the result, 'You look just like George Raft,' she enthused.  In the evenings they were often joined by Sid and Jean.  Lynn and Jean were now close friends as to a lesser extent were Sid and Andrew.  Left on his own one day, Lynn had gone off somewhere with Jean, Andrew stood in the hotel garden looking out to sea. He saw a woman walking towards him.  She was in her thirties, well dressed.  She was staying at the Metropole with her husband, a hard drinking business man.  She smiled at Andrew.  Andrew said,  'I've just seen your husband.  He's in the snooker room.'

'Oh I'm not interested where he is,...Andrew isn't it?  He bores me to tears love.  She came close to Andrew her knee touched his.  Plucking at an imaginary hair on his lapel she asked, 'Fancy coming up for a little drink Andy?'

Andy grinned at her, 'Sorry I'm a married man.'

The woman turned.  As she walked away she laughed mockingly.

That's alright love.  I was past women like you when I was seventeen he thought.  He decided to go and wait in the car park for Lynn's return.  As he turned he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the hotel window.  He hardly recognised himself.  Such a change in so short a time.  He liked what he saw.  He ran his hand through his hair, I really don’t look like George Raft he reflected.  He thought of his father.  It was his fathers death that had facilitated the changes in his life.  If you could see me now Dad he mused.

A week after the honeymoon Lynn missed a period.  Everybody was delighted when it was confirmed that she was pregnant.  Even Sandy Renton congratulated them.  He told Andrew, 'There's going to be a war son.'

'How can you know that?' Andrew countered.

'Trust me,' the Scot said.  He went on, 'You won't be able to join up.  Farming will be a reserved occupation.'

Andrew was truculent, 'We will have to see about that.'

At the vicarage Clarence Gerard was despondent.  'Renton is convinced that war is inevitable,' he told Gwen.  He is making contingency plans for running the estate with many young men called up.'

Gwen was fearful.  Neil had come up for Easter and had talked with his father.  She knew they had talked about the possibility of war and what he would do.  She knew her son would fight but nothing had been said to her until one evening when her husband admitted that they had discussed the possibility of war.  'He's been offered a commission in the Yorkshire Regiment he said.'

Gwen became angry, 'It is madness to fight a war.  We fought a war supposedly to end all wars.  What good did it do?'

'It saved the British Empire,' her husband replied.

'But you say we are about to lose the Empire.  Nothing is saved.  The war was pointless, a horrible

waste of life, Martin blinded.  It makes me so angry the way he accepts it without complaint and now it's starting all over again.  I hear rumours in the village that the young men are not waiting to be called up but are joining up in the service of their choice.'  Gwen saw her husbands face flush with pride, She said, 'My God, you are pleased aren't you!'

Gerard was conciliatory, 'Darling Martin is an English Gentleman.  We are a privileged class and with those privileges comes responsibilities.  Martin has met his in exemplary Fashion.  And yes I am glad that our young men have retained their fighting spirit.  How else can the Anglo Saxon race survive.  Great Britain makes it way in the world by force of arms.  We simply cannot allow the Germans to dominate Europe.  We must stand up to them but that does not necessarily mean war.  If we stand firm I'm sure Hitler will see sense.  Solutions will be found.  I have great faith in Chamberlain, an intelligent man who has been an enlightened Chancellor Of the Exchequer.  Surely he will find a way to bring peace with honour.'

Gwen was pessimistic, 'We have no solutions.  It seems to me we solve nothing.'  She went on, 'By the way, I was talking to Alf Holdsworth the other day.  I agree with his plan to get some council houses built. 

Gerrard was aghast, 'Gwen you are talking arrant socialism.'  His remonstrations fell on deaf ears.  Gwen was adamant, there had to be change.

Back at Fell End Farm Lynn worked through the farming year,  She helped with the lambing becoming skilled at the work.  She loved the lambs.  Andrew was immensely proud of her.  She developed and re-vitalised the walled garden.  She restored the fruit trees.  Andrew marvelled at her gardening skills.  Off the farm too, Lynn was making her mark.  She worked for Alf Holdsworth in his attempt to get elected to the council.  She was a great believer in trade unions.  Her beloved father's premature death had been caused by the conditions in his work place.  She told Daisy that men had every right to form trade unions to fight for better conditions at work.  Daisy told her mistress and Gwen told her husband.  The Vicar's response was that trade unions were part of the problem.  Gwen disagreed.  Is there no profiteering then?  Are there no greedy bankers?

'Of course there are and they must be dealt with.'

As Vicar, Gerard had mixed feelings about Lynn.  Although he quite liked her, under her tutelage Daisy had become quite radical and Daisy's Fiancé, the blacksmith's son Alan Seed, was studying mechanical engineering at the technical college and openly planning to join the engineering union.  Also Lynn had been a keen member of Trentham Cycling Club.  Jean bought her what she wanted a Raleigh, mens racing bicycle with drop handlebars.  Alan made her a pannier over the back wheel to carry shopping home.  There was a slight hill leaving Inglebeck main street and at the foot of it, women dismounted demurely from their ladies bicycles and pushed them up the hill.  Not Lynn, in her slacks she stood up on the pedals, bent low over the handlebars, went expertly down through her Sturmy Archer gears and powered up the hill.  Gerard thought her posture unseemly.  He knew it unsettled the younger men.  He had heard one mutter as he watched Lynn’s receding posterior, 'Hell fire, that Andy Emmett's a lucky devil’ before adding, 'sorry vicar.'

He asked Gwen if she could have a word with Lynn about modifying her behaviour.'  Gwen was scathing, 'She's a healthy young woman with a healthy young woman's body.  The young men will just have to cope.'  The Vicar retired to his study.

The year progressed.  The weather was fine.  In June they started haymaking.  Alf Holdsworth helped as did Sid and Jean.  Lynn loved haytime.  She did not want to be stuck inside cooking so Jean agreed to take on the kitchen duties Whilst Lynn worked amongst the hay.  They worried about Sid who threw himself into the work with gusto. 'Do you know,' he told them, I've never felt better.  It does me good being here.  Hard work in the fresh air and good food.'  They were a good team with Andrew on the cart loading the hay whilst the others reached the hay up to him with pitch forks.  By July they were burnt brown by the sun.  Lynn had asked to be taught how to handle the horse. Traditionally women were considered to lack the strength to work with heavy horses but Andrew new Lynn would not stand for that.  He insisted that she could not work with dangerous machinery like the mowing machine but that apart he gave her a free hand.  At first, to Andrew's amusement she struggled.  If she reached up to put the bridle on, the horse dropped his head.  If she reached down he threw his head up.  When she tied him up in his stall he leant against her, trapping her against the side of the stall with his belly.  When she cried out to Andrew for help he laughed 'He's just messing you about.  Shout at him, knee him in the belly.  Show him whose boss.  Lynn soon mastered the animal.  She asked, 'Why is he smaller than The Nicholson's horse?'

'He's a Galloway,' Andrew replied.  'Dad always kept them.  They are tough and strong and they don't eat as much as the bigger horses.'