The two days that followed were so busy, May hardly got a chance to even speak to Jess, let alone find time for them to work on the script. On Monday May had to drive the station commander to a meeting in London and got back so late she fell into bed as soon as she reached her bedroom. She had taken to carrying around the exercise book with her notes on the script, and while she was waiting for the station commander to finish the meeting, she scribbled down some more ideas.
The next day she had to drive a pilot from Catseye squadron to the hospital. He’d been forced to do a ‘pancake’ landing on the field when his Hurricane’s undercarriage had been damaged and wouldn’t lower. Although he’d avoided serious injury, the MO wanted him to have his head X-rayed. Again, it had been late by the time she returned to the Waafery.
But she perked up when she found a letter from Mrs Grey waiting for her.
I’ve spoken to the children’s headmistress, Mrs Grey wrote. She thinks it would be a splendid idea for some of the evacuees to be involved in the pantomime. There are five children living in the village who would like to take part, including Peggy. The others would love to come and watch the performance itself. Can you and your friend come to the vicarage at 7.30 on Wednesday evening? If so, I’ll introduce you to Miss Foster so you can make the arrangements.
Thankfully Jess was free the next evening, so they had gone to the vicarage and met Mrs Grey and Miss Foster. Mrs Grey gave the welcome news that the parish council had agreed to let them use the village hall for the performance and the rehearsals.
‘I hope you won’t be taking up too much of my pupils’ time,’ Miss Foster said with a small frown after listening to Jess’s description of the children’s scenes. She didn’t seem to share Jess’s enthusiasm, making Jess wonder if Mrs Grey had stretched the truth in her letter when saying Miss Foster had thought the pantomime a ‘splendid idea’. May suspected Mrs Grey had used all her powers of persuasion to get the headmistress to agree. ‘If their school work suffers, I will have to withdraw them from the cast.’
‘Oh, they won’t have much to learn,’ Jess said. ‘I can assure you it won’t interfere with their schooling.’
‘What if…’ May began, then hesitated when all eyes turned to her. But Jess’s encouraging smile gave her the confidence to speak up. ‘Why don’t we hold separate rehearsals for the children? To start with, I mean.’ Heartened that no one immediately disagreed, she went on, ‘That way they won’t need to attend rehearsals so often, and they won’t have to sit around when we’re doing a scene they’re not involved in.’
‘Excellent idea,’ Mrs Grey said.
‘Perfect,’ said Jess. ‘That way we can hold rehearsals for the adult cast members up at High Chalk House in the ballroom. It will save us trailing down to the village each time.’
Even Miss Foster gave the idea a grudging nod and May felt a swell of mingled pride and relief that she’d found the courage to give voice to her idea. She rewarded herself with a slice of fruitcake while Jess and Mrs Grey decided upon the rehearsal dates. They settled upon the following Tuesday for the first children’s rehearsal, which was Jess’s next full night off.
The best news of all came when Mrs Grey revealed she had been involved in a local amateur dramatic society before the war. She offered to let them use the costumes and props, which were still stored in the village hall. It also turned out that she was an able musician, and volunteered to play the piano during the performance and write music for any songs.
‘I can’t wait to look through the costumes,’ said Jess as they cycled through the pitch-black lanes back to High Chalk House. ‘It will save us a load of work if we can find suitable ones ready-made.’ She swerved to avoid a pothole that their shielded headlamps only revealed at the last moment. ‘And your idea was brilliant, May. I was worried Miss Foster wouldn’t allow her pupils to join the cast, but you won her round.’
She chatted all the way back to High Chalk House, her enthusiasm contagious. For the first time, May felt flutterings of excitement over the pantomime. Maybe Jess was right, and playing Prince Charming was exactly what she needed to boost her confidence. Only half listening to Jess, she allowed herself to dream of a day when she would have the self-assurance to admit to Peter that she loved him.
‘Gather round the front, children.’ The five children – three girls and two boys – had arrived for the first rehearsal, their coats, hats and gas masks placed on chairs at the back of the village hall.
Straight away, Jess got each one to say their name, their favourite animal and favourite food. How Jess could speak with such composure to a group of giggling, fidgeting children, May would never know. She supposed that after teaching English to the Czech pilots last summer, five schoolchildren couldn’t be much of a challenge. But to May they were as terrifying and unpredictable as unexploded bombs.
At least, four of the children giggled and fidgeted. Peggy stood a little apart from the others, scuffing the floorboards with the toe of one shoe.
‘Today, we’re going to learn the opening song,’ Jess said, handing out sheets of paper that had been torn from the back of Evie’s exercise book. ‘We haven’t got a pianist today, but I can teach you the tune.’ Sadly, Mrs Grey had caught a cold and sent her apologies, but she promised to attend the next rehearsal. ‘The song lyrics are written down here, but we’d like you to learn the words before we meet next week.’ Jess went on to describe the scene the children would take part in at the start of the pantomime.
One little boy listened, wide-eyed. When Jess got to the part about the deer, he craned his neck to look around the hall. Then his hand shot up. ‘Can we see the deer, Miss?’
Jess laughed. ‘You won’t see it tonight. It’s played by two of our pilots, and—’
She broke off when the squeak of the door behind the heavy blackout curtain heralded a newcomer. Milan pushed through the curtains and approached the front. ‘I thought you might want someone to play the piano,’ he said. He gave a brief smile to May and the children, but the whole of his attention was fixed on Jess. May was reminded of the intense look he had given Jess when he had explained how Popelka made the prince work hard to win her. It seemed he was set on showing Jess that he was intent on winning her.
Jess looked uncharacteristically flustered. ‘I didn’t know you—’ She stopped. ‘Thank you. That would help.’ She handed him the sheet of music Miss Grey had sent. ‘Can you sight-read?’
Milan gave a crooked smile. ‘I haven’t played for some time but I’ll manage.’
An upright piano stood at the side of the stage. Milan took his seat and arranged the music on the stand. Then he opened the lid and ran through a series of scales. It was immediately apparent that Milan was a pianist of considerable talent. Despite the protestation that he hadn’t played in a long time, his fingers flowed across the keys, turning even this most basic of exercises into a thing of beauty.
Jess stared at him, eyes wide. May had to smother a laugh. She had never seen Jess at a loss for words before. When Jess showed no sign of emerging from her trance, May gave her a small nudge.
Jess snapped out of her reverie with a start. ‘Well.’ She gave the children a bright smile. ‘First of all, I’m going to ask Milan to play the tune through a couple of times. Then I’ll sing the song. Try following the words while I’m singing them. Finally, we’ll all give it a go.’
By the time Milan had played the simple, lively tune through twice, Jess had fully regained her composure. The children listened, entranced, while Jess sang Cinderella’s song, listing all the chores her stepmother made her do. The chorus was for Cinderella and the children, with the children urging her to put down the basket she was using to collect berries and come and play with them instead.
The children picked it up easily, helped by Milan’s expert playing. They were just starting the third run-through when the wail of the air raid siren split the air.
‘Quick, gather up your coats and gas masks,’ Jess ordered the children, picking up her own greatcoat from where she had draped it on the front of the stage. Then she turned frightened eyes on May. ‘I don’t know where the nearest shelter is. I didn’t think to check.’
Now May had reason to be thankful that her duties had led her to drive through the village so often. ‘Follow me. There’s one just behind the hall.’ She snatched up her own coat and flung it on while Jess raised her voice to be heard over the siren.
‘Follow May. Don’t worry, everyone. It’s bound to be a false alarm, but we’re going to the shelter to be safe.’
They filed out and May led them onto the village green behind the hall. Most of it had been turned over to vegetable plots, but there was a large communal shelter in one corner. Milan made a game of it, making the children pretend they were rabbits, hurrying for their warren. When the smallest boy tripped and fell and started to cry, Milan picked him up and hoisted him on his shoulders. ‘Now you ride on the pantomime deer.’ The boy giggled as Milan trotted for the shelter.
They met Miss Foster at the entrance. ‘Thanks goodness,’ she said, doing a swift count to make sure all the children were accounted for. ‘I was just coming to find you.’
They bundled inside and saw by the lantern light that a few other villagers were there. May’s heart sank when she saw Arnold Walker – the unpleasant man who had been in the snug at the Horse and Groom on Saturday. He scowled when he saw Milan, but said nothing. Perhaps the presence of the children prevented him from repeating his accusations of the other day. Whatever the reason, May could only hope he didn’t start up again.
May took care to sit beside Peggy. Now was as good an opportunity as any to try befriending the girl, although May didn’t want to bring up the subject of Mrs Evans in a shelter full of people who were bound to know her.
Peggy was shaking, hugging her arms across her chest. ‘Davey will be so frightened,’ she said. ‘I hope he’s alright.’
‘He’ll be fine,’ May said. ‘Mr and Mrs Bowes live right out in the country, well away from any raids. Anyway, they’ve got a good, strong cellar.’
The boy Milan had picked up was now sitting between Milan and Jess. He seemed to have recovered from his fright and was staring at Milan in fascination. He pointed to the wings on the chest of Milan’s tunic. ‘What are these for?’ he asked.
‘They mean I’m a pilot.’
‘Why aren’t you up there, then?’ Arnold Walker demanded. ‘You should be fighting them.’
Jess shot him a glare. ‘Because his plane’s still being repaired from the last time ’e was up there.’
May could tell she wanted to say more, but Milan put a hand on her arm and gave a small shake of the head. Jess ignored him. ‘You’ve changed your tune since Saturday,’ she said to Mr Walker. ‘Before, you accused him of being a spy. Now you want to know why he’s not up there saving your neck. Make up your mind.’
Even in the dim lantern light, May could see Mr Walker’s face was turning a mottled shade of red. He started forward but the gentleman sat beside him held him back. ‘Now, now, Arnold. This is neither the time nor place.’ Mr Walker subsided, though he continued to shoot glowering looks at Jess and Milan. All in all, it was a relief when the all-clear sounded a few minutes later.
‘There you go,’ said Jess with an encouraging smile at the children. ‘What did I tell you? A false alarm. We’re nice and safe in Amberton.’
‘Until the Jerries decide to bomb the RAF station again,’ Mr Walker muttered under his breath.
Fortunately, Peggy didn’t seem to hear. She gave May a shaky smile. ‘That was scary. Have you been in an air raid before?’
May nodded. ‘A couple of times, but it wasn’t so bad.’ There was no way she was going to describe to the frightened child the terror of being buried when her shelter had been hit, or running for her life to get off the road when her car had been strafed.
‘We had raids where I live,’ Peggy said. Possibly her reaction to fear had made her more talkative, made her want to reach out for comfort. ‘That’s why we had to come here.’
‘Where are you from?’ May asked, slinging her gas mask over her shoulder.
‘Coventry. My mum still lives there.’ Peggy shivered. ‘I hope she’s all right.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be fine.’ May ducked out of the entrance and into the chill night air. The sky was clear, and a scattering of stars glinted overhead, lending the slightest silvery light to the scene. The perfect conditions for bombers. She shivered. The air raid at Amberton might have been a false alarm, but bombs would be falling somewhere, she was sure.
‘It’s pointless carrying on with the rehearsal now,’ Jess said to the children as she emerged from the shelter. ‘We’ll walk you all back home.’
However, by the time they’d gathered everyone together, most of the children’s foster parents had arrived to collect them. Only Mrs Evans was missing. The group dispersed, leaving Peggy with May, Jess and Milan. May didn’t often get angry, but a flare of rage burned at this further evidence of Mrs Evans’ lack of care for a child all alone and far from her family. Was she so heartless that she didn’t care for Peggy’s safety? Was she so lacking in imagination that she couldn’t put herself in the girl’s shoes and understand how it must feel to walk home all alone in the blackout, through a strange village?
‘Come on,’ May said, holding out her hand to Peggy. ‘We’ll walk you home.’
‘It’s not home,’ Peggy said, ‘and I’m too old to hold hands. I can find my own way.’
May let her hand drop. ‘I know you can, but no one should be out alone in the blackout.’ She struggled to think of a way to reach the girl. When she had been Peggy’s age, she could never have spoken her mind to an adult. She still found it hard, if she was honest with herself. She glanced back at Jess hoping for help, but Jess was speaking to Milan in a low voice and clearly hadn’t heard. ‘What would your mother say?’ she asked finally, praying that Peggy’s mother was more caring than Mrs Evans. ‘Would she want you to be out alone after dark?’
She could just make out Peggy’s shape in the darkness. Her head was bowed as though studying her feet. ‘No,’ she muttered eventually.
‘There you go then,’ said May. ‘I wouldn’t want your mother to learn I’d sent you ho— back to Mrs Evans in the blackout on your own.’
Peggy nodded and fell into step with May without further protest. Jess and Milan followed.
This should be the perfect opportunity to encourage Peggy to talk about life with Mrs Evans, if only the girl didn’t radiate standoffishness. Perhaps Jess would have known how to talk to her, but Jess was engrossed in conversation with Milan. Still, May had to try.
‘How are you getting on with Mrs Evans?’ she asked. The moment the words were out of her mouth she knew she had been too abrupt.
‘All right,’ Peggy said, hunching further down. Although she didn’t move any further away from May, she managed to give the impression of creating distance between them.
May could have kicked herself. She should have known Peggy would be reluctant to talk. Hadn’t May always brushed off questions about her home life when her teacher had gently tried to ask if all was well? She should have known Peggy would react the same way. It was going to take more than a quick chat to uncover how Mrs Evans was treating Peggy. She was going to have to work at making friends with the girl over the next few weeks. Suddenly playing Prince Charming didn’t seem so bad if it meant she had another chance to make things right for Peggy.
‘You mentioned your mother,’ she said as her opener in the campaign. ‘What does she do?’ She instantly hoped it wasn’t a tricky subject. She knew she wouldn’t like to talk about her family.
Thankfully, this seemed to be the right thing to ask. Peggy straightened and closed the gap between them. ‘She works in a shoe shop. And my dad, he used to work in the Post Office. But—’ her voice dropped ‘—he’s in the army now.’
‘You must miss him.’
‘I really do.’
They had turned into the High Street by this time and were drawing close to the haberdashery. Peggy slowed. ‘I… I can carry on alone from here.’
‘Nonsense. We’ll see you to the door.’
Peggy turned to May. May could just see her face as a round, pale blur against the darkness. ‘I don’t think… it’s not a good idea.’
‘Why not?’
‘Mrs Evans, she… I don’t think she approves of WAAFs.’
They were only about ten paces from the haberdashery, so May decided not to argue. Anyway, it was pointless disagreeing, when both she and Jess had experienced Mrs Evans’ dislike. ‘Go on, then. We’ll see you inside from here.’
Peggy hesitated, then said in a rush, ‘Thank you for letting me have a part in the panto. See you next week.’ She sped off before May could reply.