China Blue (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 3) Madalyn Morgan (books to read in your 30s .TXT) 📖

‘Sorry to disappoint you, Claire, but we are going to wash the floor of the cowshed, not milk the cows. The cowman and I did that at six o’clock this morning, while you were sleeping. But then, with your vast knowledge of dairy farming, you will know that by this time of day the milking has been done.’

Claire pushed Frédéric playfully and he spilt water on his feet. ‘Sorry,’ she said, running ahead of him to the first of the wooden structures.

‘The next building,’ Frédéric shouted, ‘and pick up a bucket of water before you go in.’ Frédéric took his large pail inside and, holding the rim at the top with one hand, he gripped the bottom of the pail with the other. Claire watched as he swung the pail back before hurling it forward, forcing the water out of it and across the floor. Dropping her bucket, Claire jumped out of the way as cow dung and straw went swimming past her and out of the door. Frédéric followed the water with a wide brush on a long handle. ‘Mind your feet,’ he shouted as he almost swept her out of the cowshed.

Claire picked up another bucket and copied Frédéric. He stood to one side and leant on the brush, nodding. When they finished in the cowshed they brushed the yard, making sure the waste from the shed was in a drainage ditch away from the well.

‘I’ll teach you how to milk the cows if you want,’ Frédéric said, as they put the pails and brushes in the smallest of the sheds.

‘All right,’ Claire said, half-heartedly. ‘I suppose if I’m staying with my aunt and cousins on their farm, I ought to know something about farming – and cows.’ She screwed up her face.

‘And horses? We have two plough horses.’ Claire followed Frédéric past the barn to the stables. ‘Working horses with no work to do,’ Frédéric sighed, opening the stable door. ‘Come on, girls.’ He clicked his tongue and the horses plodded out of the dark stalls into the sunshine. ‘In the winter I take them to the field for exercise – and to eat, as fodder is hard to come by – and bring them back before it is dark. Now spring is here the fields are their home for four, maybe five, months.’

The horses clip-clopped across the cobbles to a field bordering the farmyard. Whinnying and shaking their manes, when Frédéric opened the five-bar gate they skittered through. He closed the gate after them and, with Claire standing on the bottom rung, watched as the horses trotted down to the small brook.

‘Why aren’t you working them?’ Claire asked.

‘The Germans have forbidden us to till the land. They informed us after last year’s harvest; after the corn fires. They took our produce, saying the land belonged to them, therefore what it yields also belongs to them.’

They walked back to the house in silence. Frédéric looked about her age, she thought, his older brother André a similar age to Alain. ‘André wears a ring on his wedding finger. Is he married?’ Claire asked.

‘Yes, to Thérèse. She is good for André, keeps his feet in the earth. Being the oldest brother, he can be…’

‘Bossy?’ Claire offered.

‘You could say that. Since my father died, André takes being the head of the family very seriously.’

‘But he doesn’t live here, does he?’

‘No, he and Thérèse live with her parents. They have a farm north of Gisoir, the nearest town to them, and to us,’ Frédéric said. ‘They are old and depend on Thérèse to help in the house.’

‘And André works the farm?’

‘No, André spends his days here. They employ labourers to do the farm work. You met some of them last night. They were part of the reception committee.’ Claire recalled each one of them. ‘They work as farm labourers, but they are engineers, architects and electricians.’

‘Why do they work as labourers when they have professions and trades?’

‘To continue working with the Resistance. The Germans send qualified men to work for the Fatherland. They think farm labourers are stupid, so they ignore them.’ Frédéric laughed bitterly. ‘These so-called labourers are brave fighters, and saboteurs.’

At the back door Claire took off her wellingtons and put on her shoes. ‘I’ll wash the mud off these when I do mine,’ Frédéric said. ‘Tell Mama I’ll be in for coffee shortly.’

The smell of fresh coffee and newly baked bread met Claire as she entered the kitchen. Édith Belland was at the stove. She turned as Claire entered. ‘Can I do anything to help, Édith?’

‘No, my dear, it was only a stir of the soup that was needed.’ Édith took the coffee pot from the stove. ‘André and Alain are in the front room. They will be through in a minute, or perhaps you would like to join them?’

‘I’m fine. It’s nice and warm in here. It’s homely too,’ Claire observed, ‘for such a big kitchen.’

‘The kitchen is where friends meet and drink coffee – and gossip,’ Édith whispered. ‘In the evenings we sit and listen to the wireless, and drink a glass of wine by the fire in the front room – and always formal occasions take place in there – but the kitchen is, as you say, homely.’

CHAPTER TEN

Claire, playing the part of visiting younger cousin, trailed behind André and Alain as they strolled into Gisoir. ‘I’ll meet you back here at one o’clock,’ Alain said to Claire when they arrived in the town square. He looked around. ‘In Café La Ronde,’ he said, pointing to a double-fronted café a few shops along from where they were standing.

Claire nodded. ‘Aunt Édith has given me a shopping list.