either.’
Elsie let the ‘bloody’ go. Now wasn’t the time to take him to task for cursing. She felt like saying she was more upset than he was. Things had been going well while he was earning. So much so that her hints about marriage had brought a smile to his face. Then he lost his job and everything changed.
There could be no talk of weddings while he was out of work. Wives and children cost money. A man should never make promises he couldn’t keep. There was more to marriage than kissing. Hardship and poverty led to anger and hate.
These weren’t messages that Elsie wanted to hear. Her romantic streak said love could overcome all problems. What did it matter if they were poor as long as they had each other? She knew her feelings for Norman were stronger than his for her. She called him her ‘lovey’, her ‘pet’, her ‘treasure’, but he only ever called her ‘Elsie’ or ‘Else’.
She tucked her hand through his arm and put on her brightest smile. ‘You’re always telling me there’s money in chickens. Why don’t you start a chicken farm?’
‘Where?’ He sounded annoyed, as if he found her idea foolish. But he didn’t push her away.
‘Not in London. Somewhere outside. Sussex or Surrey maybe. Land’s cheaper away from the city.’
He slowed to a halt. ‘How would I pay for it?’
‘You could ask your dad for a loan. You said he’s been careful all these years. You never know. He might give you the money instead of making you wait till he’s dead. He’s got no one else to leave it to.’
‘Do you reckon?’
‘I don’t see why not. Raising chickens is better than living on the dole.’
It was amazing how quickly his depression lifted. ‘You could be right, Else. He said he’d give me a hand if I needed it.’
‘There you are then.’
He gave her fingers a quick squeeze. ‘We wouldn’t see so much of each other. Sussex is a fair lick from Kensal Rise.’
‘We’ll manage,’ she said. ‘We’ll write every day. It’ll make our love stronger.’
Mr Thorne surprised Norman by the speed with which he stumped up £100 for the project. Elsie said it was because he had faith in his son. But Norman thought it had more to do with parting him from Elsie. Mr Thorne was a little too eager to see his boy move to Sussex. Perhaps he hoped that out of sight would mean out of mind.
‘The change will do you good,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s time you met new people and spread your wings. You’re stuck in a rut here, lad.’
Sometimes Norman felt that, too. He was fond of Elsie. He even wondered if he was in love with her when she was in a good mood. But he could never predict when that would be. It got him down. There were days when she was happy, and other days when she wasn’t. But it was always him who had to match his mood to hers. Never the other way round.
She called her ups and downs her ‘nerves’. ‘I worry about things, pet. It makes me jumpy. Mum says it’ll wear off when I have a family. I can’t be fretting for myself when I have children to look after.’
Norman doubted that. Surely a baby would give her more to worry about? But he didn’t say so. Elsie was easier to get on with when she was making plans. She took it for granted that her future would include him.
Once or twice, he tried to suggest differently. ‘I’m not the only bloke in the world, Else. Maybe you’ll find someone better.’
‘How can I? You’re my own sweet darling.’
‘Maybe I’ll find someone better,’ Norman teased, not completely in jest.
She put him through hell when he said such things. An older man might have used the sulks as an excuse to end the affair. But not a church-going boy of nineteen who was both flattered and trapped by Elsie’s devotion.
Which may explain why the idea of a chicken farm outside London was as welcome to Norman as it was to his father. He hoped a breathing space would help him make up his mind.
He bought a field off Blackness Road in
Elsie let the ‘bloody’ go. Now wasn’t the time to take him to task for cursing. She felt like saying she was more upset than he was. Things had been going well while he was earning. So much so that her hints about marriage had brought a smile to his face. Then he lost his job and everything changed.
There could be no talk of weddings while he was out of work. Wives and children cost money. A man should never make promises he couldn’t keep. There was more to marriage than kissing. Hardship and poverty led to anger and hate.
These weren’t messages that Elsie wanted to hear. Her romantic streak said love could overcome all problems. What did it matter if they were poor as long as they had each other? She knew her feelings for Norman were stronger than his for her. She called him her ‘lovey’, her ‘pet’, her ‘treasure’, but he only ever called her ‘Elsie’ or ‘Else’.
She tucked her hand through his arm and put on her brightest smile. ‘You’re always telling me there’s money in chickens. Why don’t you start a chicken farm?’
‘Where?’ He sounded annoyed, as if he found her idea foolish. But he didn’t push her away.
‘Not in London. Somewhere outside. Sussex or Surrey maybe. Land’s cheaper away from the city.’
He slowed to a halt. ‘How would I pay for it?’
‘You could ask your dad for a loan. You said he’s been careful all these years. You never know. He might give you the money instead of making you wait till he’s dead. He’s got no one else to leave it to.’
‘Do you reckon?’
‘I don’t see why not. Raising chickens is better than living on the dole.’
It was amazing how quickly his depression lifted. ‘You could be right, Else. He said he’d give me a hand if I needed it.’
‘There you are then.’
He gave her fingers a quick squeeze. ‘We wouldn’t see so much of each other. Sussex is a fair lick from Kensal Rise.’
‘We’ll manage,’ she said. ‘We’ll write every day. It’ll make our love stronger.’
Mr Thorne surprised Norman by the speed with which he stumped up £100 for the project. Elsie said it was because he had faith in his son. But Norman thought it had more to do with parting him from Elsie. Mr Thorne was a little too eager to see his boy move to Sussex. Perhaps he hoped that out of sight would mean out of mind.
‘The change will do you good,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s time you met new people and spread your wings. You’re stuck in a rut here, lad.’
Sometimes Norman felt that, too. He was fond of Elsie. He even wondered if he was in love with her when she was in a good mood. But he could never predict when that would be. It got him down. There were days when she was happy, and other days when she wasn’t. But it was always him who had to match his mood to hers. Never the other way round.
She called her ups and downs her ‘nerves’. ‘I worry about things, pet. It makes me jumpy. Mum says it’ll wear off when I have a family. I can’t be fretting for myself when I have children to look after.’
Norman doubted that. Surely a baby would give her more to worry about? But he didn’t say so. Elsie was easier to get on with when she was making plans. She took it for granted that her future would include him.
Once or twice, he tried to suggest differently. ‘I’m not the only bloke in the world, Else. Maybe you’ll find someone better.’
‘How can I? You’re my own sweet darling.’
‘Maybe I’ll find someone better,’ Norman teased, not completely in jest.
She put him through hell when he said such things. An older man might have used the sulks as an excuse to end the affair. But not a church-going boy of nineteen who was both flattered and trapped by Elsie’s devotion.
Which may explain why the idea of a chicken farm outside London was as welcome to Norman as it was to his father. He hoped a breathing space would help him make up his mind.
He bought a field off Blackness Road in
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