"I don't know where it's going to lead, though," said Polly.
"Ah. Even better."
At which point, Polly decided that she knew enough of the truth to be going on with. The enemy wasn't men, or women, or the old, or even the dead. It was just bleedin' stupid people, who came in all varieties. And no one had the right to be stupid.
She looked at the other two passengers who'd sidled aboard. They were country lads in ragged, ill-fitting clothes, keeping away from her and staring intently at the deck. But one glance was enough. The world turned upside down, and history repeated. For some reason, that suddenly made her feel very happy.
"Going to join up, lads?" she said, cheerily.
There was some mumbling on the theme of "yes".
"Good. Then stand up straight," said Polly. "Let's have a look at you. Chins up. Ah. Well done. Shame you didn't practise walking in trousers, and I notice you didn't bring an extra pair of socks."
They stared, mouths open.
"What are your names?" said Polly. "Your real names, please?"
"Er... Rosemary," one of them began.
"I'm Mary," said the other. "I heard girls were joining, but everyone laughed, so I thought I'd better pretend to - "
"Oh, you can join as men if you want," said Polly. "We need a few good men."
The girls looked at one another.
"You get better swear words," said Polly. "And the trousers are useful. But it's your choice."
"A choice?" said Rosemary.
"Certainly," said Polly. She put a hand on a shoulder of each girl, winked at Maladicta and added: "You are my little lads - or not, as the case may be - and I will look after... you."
And the new day was a great big fish. let that pass, but said: "You don't want to go back and see your grandchildren?"
"Wouldn't wish meself on him, lad," said Jackrum firmly. "Wouldn't dare. My boy's a well-respected man in the town! What've I got to offer? He'll not want some fat ol' biddy banging on his back door and gobbing baccy juice all over the place and telling him she's his mother!"
Polly looked at the fire for a moment, and felt the idea creep into her mind. "What about a distinguished sergeant major, shiny with braid, loaded with medals, arriving at the front door in a grand coach and telling him he's his father?" she said.
Jackrum stared.
"Tides of war, and all that," Polly went on, mind suddenly racing. "Young love. Duty calls. Families scattered. Hopeless searching. Decades pass. Fond memories. Then... oh, an overheard conversation in a bar, yeah, that'd work. Hope springs. A new search. Greasing palms. The recollections of old women. At last, an address - "
"What're you saying, Perks?"
"You're a liar, sarge," said Polly. "Best I've ever heard. One last lie pays for all! Why not? You could show him the locket. You could tell him about the girl you left behind you..."
Jackrum looked away, but said: "You're a shining bastard of a thinker, Perks. And where would I get a grand coach, anyway?"
"Oh, sarge! Today? There are... men in high places who'll give you anything you ask for, right now. You know that. Especially if it means they'd see the back of you. You never put the bite on them for anything much. If I was you, sarge, I'd cash in a few favours while you can. That's the Ins-and-Outs, sarge. Take the cheese while it's there, 'cos kissin' don't last."
Jackrum took a deep, long breath. "I'll think about it, Perks. Now you push off, all right?"
Polly stood up. "Think hard, sarge, eh? Like you said, anyone who's got anyone left is ahead of the game right now. Four grandchildren? I'd be a proud kid if I had a grandad who could spit tobacco juice far enough to hit a fly on the opposite wall."
"I'm warning you, Perks."
"It was just a thought, sarge."
"Yeah... right," Jackrum growled.