Christmas passed in a blur of celebrations, carol services and walks along the shore, and now it was New Year and another gathering with the officer contingent in the villa. Flora watched the door for Kit’s arrival, her heart thumping. She wanted to see him more than anything, but it troubled her. Was it right to poach another girl’s beau? Was Muriel waiting for his return, ready to plan a wedding? How could Kit dismiss that so lightly? It was all so confusing.
Perhaps there was something about the luxury of this villa, the scenery, the relief of being away from petty rules, uniforms and the misery of war that lifted her spirits? She could not forget that kiss, her first kiss, and the passion within it. The thought of living in his arms filled every vacant space in her mind. She was like a silly schoolgirl with her first pash. A door had opened into a world she never knew existed. This was a world that her doctor friend, Rose Murray, had found with Hector; her mother and father, too. Now she was in thrall to a desire to be with Kit no matter the consequences, and this worried her deeply.
Then Kit appeared in his kilt, his hair flattened, his eyes searching the crowd for her, and Flora knew what they were feeling was mutual. She drifted towards him, trying not to draw attention to herself. Rules were rules and Matron must not see the flush on her cheeks or how her hands trembled. She must not show any partiality towards him and that was agony. They both circled round the chattering crowd trying to look casual and disinterested. Everyone was admiring the delicious spread of cake and pastries, waiting for the New Year chimes. In a few hours it would be 1919; a new beginning, without war. Into this bubble burst Maudie: ‘I say… Can’t wait to sing “Auld Lang Syne”… Are you all right, Flo? You look awfully hot.’
‘It’s the crush, I’m going for some air on the balcony,’ she said, hoping it was loud enough for Kit to overhear.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Maudie offered. ‘Olive didn’t feel up to coming tonight because she thought it was more my thing. We’ve made plans to leave soon, so she’s busy looking up timetables.’
Flora wasn’t listening. ‘I’m fine, just need to cool down, so thanks. You go and find the buffet.’
‘Oh, I can see Kit over there. I wonder how he’s getting on? Oh, he’s gone! Pity,’ said Maudie. ‘There’s lots to catch up and I wanted to thank him for that excursion along the coast. It was such a jolly treat.’
Flora drifted towards the balcony. She fluttered her fan to indicate she was going to cool down, but nobody noticed. At the far end of the terrace, the silhouette of a lone figure stood smoking, half hidden in the darkness.
Kit turned and smiled. ‘Glad you managed to get away from the squash in there. We have to talk. Why can’t we just be alone?’
‘I know, but you know the rules – no fraternising with the enemy. Matron is a stickler for propriety.’
‘Then we must find time to be alone together. There’s so much still to say.’ Kit reached out for her hand. ‘Now I’ve found you, I don’t want to let you go.’
‘I have to be chaperoned. You know how it is,’ Flora said.
‘Well, at least with Maudie and her chum, you can always get permission to visit them.’
‘They’re leaving soon.’
‘All the more reason for a farewell visit. Matron wouldn’t deny you a day out with them. Then we could meet up and make a day of it somewhere. What do you think?’
Flora nodded. ‘It’s risky, but worth a try. Where shall we go?’
‘Leave that to me. A day out to ourselves. We deserve that.’
Suddenly bells were ringing in the New Year and it was time to re-join the celebrations in a sing-song. Together, they sang the old Scots’ anthem, happy that it was easy to hold hands and join in the fray. Now there was a plan that might just work. ‘Perhaps I should tell Maudie?’ she whispered as they swayed back and forward.
‘Better not… don’t want to involve her. Best no one knows our plan,’ Kit replied.
‘When?’
‘You ask for permission to visit and I’ll do the rest. I’ll send a thank you card with date and time. No one else must know.’
*
‘I fancy a breath of mountain air,’ said Kit. ‘Anyone know a good place?’ He was in the mess, hoping for some ideas.
‘You should take the little railway line into the hills, if it’s open, to Entrevaux up the Roya valley,’ the major suggested. ‘Splendid scenery. It’s called the line of pines.’
‘So where do I catch it?’
‘At the railway station in Nice… It will take you high into the Southern Alps, but it will be snowy. I think there are a few stations where you can stop to hike.’
This sounded ideal but how to get to the station and not be spotted? Flora must not wear her uniform. Perhaps if she walked in the direction of her friends’ pension, he could offer her a lift. They would let it be known they were both going to say farewell to their childhood friend, then, once out of sight, drive to the station for tickets. They could travel two or three stations, not too far, have lunch somewhere and then come back. Kit could not wait to have Flora all to himself. Somewhere to make plans for the future and settle things, once and for all.