Wedding Bells at Goodwill House

Fenella J Miller

Description

The brand-new instalment in Fenella J. Miller's bestselling Goodwill House series!

January 1941

As the residents of Goodwill House feel the hard bite of winter, land girl Charlie Somiton is still glad of the warm friendships she has made there. Not just her fellow land girls, Daphne and Sal, but also dashing local G.P. Dr James Willoughby who looked after Charlie when she was injured at work.

Charlie likes Dr Willoughby, but she fears that there can never be more between them than just friendship. Because despite her upper-class background, Charlie carries with her a terrible secret that she can never share with James.

Dr Willoughby knows Charlie is dealing with something painful and he wishes she’d confide in him more. The war is getting ever closer and James knows all too well that life is short and happiness should be grabbed with both hands.

But is Charlie brave enough to risk her secret and her heart or will her past ruin her chances for a happy future.

Don't miss the next heart-breaking instalment in Fenella J. Miller's beautiful Goodwill House series.

Praise for Fenella J. Miller:

'Yet again, Fenella Miller has thrilled me with another of her historical stories in the Goodwill House saga series. She brings alive a variety of emotions and weaves in facts relating to the era, all of which keep me reading into the small hours.' Glynis Peters – Bestselling author of The Secret Orphan.

'Curl up in a chair with Fenella J Miller's characters and lose yourself in another time and another place.' Lizzie Lane

'Engaging characters and setting which whisks you back to the home front of wartime Britain. A fabulous series!' Jean Fullerton

Sujets

• Mashups
• Holidays
• Historical
• Coming of Age
• Reino Unido
• Friendship
• Historical romance
• General officer
• Military
• Historical fiction
• United Kingdom
• Great Britain
• Wedding
• General
• Sagas
• Family Life
• Romance
• Saga
• Fiction
• Royaume-Uni

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 01 juin 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781801628761
• Langue: English

Extrait

WEDDING BELLS AT GOODWILL HOUSE


FENELLA J. MILLER
For our wonderful and collapsing NHS and the dedication of all the staff who work in it.
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25


Acknowledgments

Bibliography

More from Fenella J. Miller

About the Author

Sixpence Stories

About Boldwood Books
1
JANUARY 1941

Lady Joanna Harcourt heard the telephone jangling in the icy grand hall of Goodwill House and hoped someone else would venture from the kitchen to answer it. She was snug in the small sitting room with her mother-in-law and was reluctant to leave this comfort and brave the chilled corridors and hall.
Her adopted son and daughter, the twins, Joe and Liza, had walked into the village for their morning lessons as Mr Kent, their tutor, was too elderly and decrepit to make the journey with several inches of snow on the ground and temperatures well below freezing.
‘I’d better answer the telephone, Elizabeth, as the land girls in the kitchen are pretending not to hear it.’
‘Biggins has gone to Ramsgate on the bus, otherwise she would have answered it.’
Maureen Biggins was her mother-in-law’s recently appointed personal maid-cum-companion. She was a quiet middle-aged lady who had been a nanny to an aristocratic family and been let go when they’d emigrated to America for the duration of the war.
‘Heavens, you shouldn’t have sent the poor woman out in this weather!’
‘She had a personal errand to run. I am more than satisfied with her so was happy to give her the morning off.’ Elizabeth frowned. ‘I do hope the buses are still functioning. I’d hate for her to be marooned somewhere today.’
‘Don’t worry, if they weren’t she’d be back already, wouldn’t she?’
Joanna had to step over the dog in order to reach the door. Lazzy, now fully grown and the size of a pit pony, was flopped in front of the fire and raised his head briefly as she got up but didn’t bother to follow her. He might be a big hairy dog, but one would think he didn’t have a thick fur coat of his own, the way he hogged the fire.
‘Do you think it could be Lord Harcourt? We’ve heard nothing from him since you saw him in London in October.’
Joanna hoped she’d never hear from that particular man again. He’d had the gall to suggest she become his mistress and, in his arrogance, had been certain she’d agree. At least he’d not contacted her again after she’d abandoned him in his car last year.
‘It won’t be him. I’ll close the door as I don’t want to let in the cold air.’ She pulled her thick woollen shawl around her shoulders and hurried down the icy passageway, into the hall, and snatched up the noisy telephone.
‘Goodwill House, Lady Harcourt speaking, how can I be of help?’
‘Good morning, my lady, Mrs Ramsbottom speaking. How many of your girls are actually working today?’ The area organiser for the land girls was extremely efficient.
‘The three who work in the dairy farm, obviously, have continued despite the appalling weather. However, the other nine are here. They have all been told by their respective employers that they’re not needed until the weather improves. Unfortunately, as you know, if they don’t work then they won’t be paid.’
‘Exactly so. And you still have to feed them; I’m assuming this is at your own expense?’
‘It is, but I’ve no intention of turning them out,’ Joanna said. ‘They are part of the household. I’m prepared to have them here even if they can’t afford to pay for their board and lodging.’
‘That’s very kind of you, my lady, but these girls cannot be allowed to sit around doing nothing. They must work somewhere and I’m looking into that. Would you be kind enough to tell them they must make themselves useful at Goodwill House?’
‘That’s already in hand, Mrs Ramsbottom. The ladies from the village are unable to get here because of the snow and the girls have been doing all the domestic chores, including the laundry, as well as helping in the kitchen.’
‘Good, good, I’m glad to hear that. I do understand that they can’t get on with hedging and ditching at the moment. I pray that this dire weather will abate very soon.’
Joanna bid Mrs Ramsbottom goodbye and replaced the receiver in the cradle and, her breath steaming in front of her, made a mad dash for the kitchen. This was the warmest room in the house as the range was always alight. There just wasn’t enough coal to have fires in the upstairs rooms. There had been icicles on the inside of the windows in the ballroom the last time she’d looked inside, which was now too cold to be used as a recreation space by the land girls.
In the kitchen, there were five of her boarders sitting at the table playing cards. Three would be taking their turn doing chores and the other three were dairy maids at Brook Farm. Charlie was the only one missing. Her two friends, Sal and Daphne, immediately stood up on Joanna’s entrance but the other three continued with their game.
‘Is there anything you’d like us to do, my lady, we feel a bit guilty enjoying ourselves in here,’ Daphne said.
‘No, my dear, that’s not why I’ve come. I’ve just been speaking to Mrs Ramsbottom.’
She gave them a brief resumé of what she’d been told and now had the attention of everybody in the kitchen. Even Jean, the housekeeper, and a good friend, stopped stirring whatever it was she had been cooking on the range in order to listen.
‘The fog’s so thick, we’d get lost just trying to find our farms,’ Daphne said, and the others agreed.
‘I reckon the only good thing about this blooming awful weather is that them Germans ain’t been over dropping bombs for a few days,’ Sal said.
‘How true. I notice that Charlie’s missing – has she volunteered to help those on the domestic rota this morning?’
‘She has, my lady,’ one of the other land girls said. ‘She’s been fetching in logs from the barn for the past hour or so. We’re going to have fires in three bedrooms – we drew straws to see which rooms these will be – and then we can spend a bit of time upstairs and get out of Jean’s hair.’
There was a plentiful supply of timber in the woods bordering the house and Joe had been felling dead trees and collecting them all summer. Her elder daughter Sarah’s mare, Star, had proved invaluable by pulling the cart back and forth and there were now enough seasoned logs for the winter as long as they didn’t have every fire burning.
‘What a good idea, I should have thought of that myself.’
‘There will be a fire in your bedroom and Lady Harcourt’s, my lady,’ Daphne said. ‘Joe and Liza said they didn’t want one.’
Jean tipped boiling water into a large brown teapot. ‘I’ll get one of the girls to bring in your tea, my lady, and there’s some lovely jam tarts to go with it this morning.’
The last of the coffee, sadly, was finished and Joanna doubted there would be any more until after the war was over.
‘Thank you, that will be most welcome.’ She returned to her sanctuary and this time, her dog did lumber to his feet in order to greet her with a slobbery kiss.
‘Tea’s on its way, Elizabeth. Even better, we’re to have a fire in our bedrooms from now on. Charlie is bringing in the logs.’
‘I should think so too. A lady of my age should not be obliged to dress under the blankets. Even Biggins said as much. At her previous employment, all rooms had a fire lit night and day.’
‘There wasn’t a fuel shortage or a war on, Elizabeth, things are different for everyone nowadays.’
Elizabeth was right, life was different and it was difficult for everyone with fuel shortages and rationing. They’d said the war would be over by Christmas 1939 and it was already 1941, with no sign of it stopping.



* * *
Charlie didn’t like sitting around when she could be doing something useful. She’d been the first to volunteer to take down the paper decorations on Twelfth Night and now, two days later, was eager to be back at Fiddler’s Farm.
All work had stopped, apart from at Brook Farm, which was all dairy, since the week before Christmas because of the fog, snow and sub-zero temperatures. Most of the girls had been given permission to go home to spend time with their families. Charlie had no family – well, to be more accurate, she had relatives but had no wish to be associated with any of them.
Fortunately, Daphne and Sal had remained at Goodwill House, too, so they’d had a jolly festive season with the Harcourt family. Dr Willoughby had been invited to Christmas lunch as he was on his own, as his loyal and hard-working housekeeper, as well as his maid of all work, had been given a few days’ holiday.
Charlie was returning from dumping her fifth wheelbarrow full of rock-hard, cold logs outside the back door when Joe and Liza crunched up to her through the snow.
‘You shouldn’t be doing that on your own, Charlie. We’ll help you. It’ll warm us up a bit more after our freezing walk from the village,’ Joe said.
‘I just need two more loads and then I’ll start taking it up to the bedrooms. What we really need is kindling to start the fires as these logs will be damp.’
Liza agreed. ‘Leave the last two lots to my brother and we’ll go in search of dry twigs and scraps of paper. We never had any sort of heating at home apart from the range in the kitchen and a small fire in the front room for high days and holidays – not that there were many of those.’
‘The weather’s being absolutely beastly at the moment. The only positive is that there’s been a slight lull in the bombing,’ Charlie said. ‘I can’t wait to get back to work, even if it’s only pulling up brussels sprouts and clearing ditches.’
‘Mr Kent said that someone told him that Manston’s fully operational again. He said he’d heard there’s going to be