Felix didn’t even need time to mull this over. Whilst it was true that if he had met Roz in Frankfurt he would have automatically assumed she wouldn’t be interested, since getting to know her he knew that she wasn’t driven by money or looks, but was a good, honest, down-to-earth girl who loved him with all her heart. There wasn’t a question in his mind that he and Roz were destined to be together, and he said as much to Ronnie.

‘No rich farmer is going to sweep her off her feet and make her the lady of the manor then?’ chuckled Ronnie.

‘Nope,’ said Felix confidently. ‘Roz has made it clear that she wants to be with me, and I believe her. I’m a lucky sod, Ronnie, because I know there’s men out there that have more to offer than me, but Roz won’t even entertain them.’

April 1941

Roz tutted loudly as she read Mabel’s letter. Looking up, she informed Joyce of her friend’s news. ‘She’s staying at Glasfryn indefinitely,’ she said miserably. ‘She reckons the girls that came were worse than useless so they’ve been sent somewhere else … They should give us more training, like they do with the Waafs and the Wrens and the ATS – they wouldn’t dream of getting them to do a job without proper training!’ she said indignantly. ‘Take the ack-acks – they have to train them properly else they’d be shooting down our fellers, and the Wrens would be putting our ships in danger, and the Waafs would be taking the pilots to the wrong planes!’

‘I suppose they think you don’t need much training to dig up a potato,’ said Joyce, a wry smile lingering on her lips. ‘Sorry, luv, but you must see that it’s not so much the training as the women who apply. They think it’s going to be easy, but they soon realise they’re wrong.’

‘How on earth are we going to cope if we don’t get more girls?’ said Roz. ‘I was counting on Mabel because I know how hard she works, but some of these others sound like they don’t like to get their hands dirty.’

‘Well, we won’t get anything done sitting here gassing about how useless everything is,’ said Joyce, getting to her feet. ‘Unless we teach the cows to milk themselves, the hens to collect their own eggs, and the sheep to shear each other, it’s down to us.’

‘And Bernie, thank goodness,’ added Roz.

‘Aye,’ said Joyce with a wistful grin, ‘Bernie’s certainly helpful these days.’

Roz nudged her friend in the ribs as they donned their wellingtons. ‘That’s nothing to do with me! He’s a farmer, it’s his job.’