Jess watched May’s departing back, torn between going to help her friend and spending some precious time alone with Milan. But it wasn’t as if May was going into danger or, heaven forbid, visiting Mrs Evans. When Milan pointed at her drink then the bar, his dark brows raised in enquiry, she nodded, feeling a flutter of pleasure that the handsome pilot should have singled her out. Not that she had any intention of getting serious with him – she wasn’t like Evie or May, she didn’t want to get tied down to one man. However, Milan was good company and, she had to admit, he was the best-looking man she had ever met. They were both likely to be moved on to other places before long – that was what happened in the forces – but she could enjoy Milan’s company while they were both in the same place.
She pulled out her compact and surreptitiously inspected her appearance. The wind had played havoc with her hair, so she pulled her comb from her gas mask case and tidied it as best as she could, praying Milan hadn’t noticed. As she snapped the compact closed, she caught a glimpse of Mr Walker’s reflection. It reminded her that she needed to ask him about printing programmes for the pantomime. An unpleasant task, but putting it off wouldn’t help. She had sketched out a programme over the weekend and tucked it in her coat pocket. Now she pulled it out and approached Mr Walker’s table, doing her best to hide her distaste as she wove past the people in the rapidly filling snug.
Mr Walker turned and looked her up and down, leering. ‘Hello, darling. Tired of the Brylcreem boys? Want to spend the evening with a real man?’
Her skin crawled. She wanted to do nothing more than run from the Horse and Groom and not stop until she was safely back at the Waafery. It was only the knowledge that she would never get to Chichester in time to get the programmes printed that enabled her to press on. ‘Actually, Mrs Grey told me you were a printer.’ She held out the draft programme. ‘I was hoping you could print two hundred copies of these in time for Christmas.’
Mr Walker’s fingers brushed hers as he took the paper. Jess was sure it had been deliberate. He glanced at the programme. ‘Shouldn’t be a problem.’ He named a price that Jess thought was a little expensive, but she didn’t want to prolong the encounter.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Can you have them ready the week before Christmas?’
‘I can have them ready by the twentieth.’ He grinned at her. ‘Now, how about I buy you a drink?’
She looked past Mr Walker’s shoulder and to her relief saw Milan approach with drinks. While she didn’t want to do anything to cause Mr Walker to change his mind about printing the programmes, she also didn’t want to be in his company for a second longer than necessary. ‘Thank you, but I’m with a friend.’
She backed away. Mr Walker grabbed her hand, enclosing it in a damp grip. Before she could snatch it out of his grip, he’d raised her hand and planted a wet kiss on her knuckles. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’ He indicated an empty seat at his table with a jerk of the head. ‘Join us when you’re bored of your fancy foreigner.’ Then he released her.
Jess stumbled to her table, wishing she could wash her hands and scrub away every trace of Mr Walker’s touch. She had to make do with wiping her hand on her skirt while she searched the crowd at the bar, looking for Milan.
Then she saw him, holding the drinks, peering around the crowded room. Their eyes met and a flutter of pleasure drove out all thought of Mr Walker as she smiled into Milan’s blue eyes and beckoned him to her table. He crossed the room, but whether by accident or design, Arnold Walker had risen and was approaching the bar. He knocked Milan’s shoulder, splashing beer down the front of his tunic.
With an exclamation of annoyance, Milan slammed the glasses on the table and then spun around, fists clenched, gazing across the room to where Arnold Walker now sat, laughing with his friends.
Afraid he was going to start a fight, Jess clutched Milan’s sleeve. ‘Leave him. He’s not worth it.’
Milan stood a moment longer, quivering with tension. ‘He owes me an apology.’
‘That git will never apologise. He’s trying to pick a fight. Don’t give him the satisfaction.’
Milan muttered something under his breath – probably a Czech malediction – then sat. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the stain on his tunic. ‘He will not get away with it.’ He glowered at Arnold Walker. ‘Oh, do not worry,’ he said, when Jess opened her mouth to protest. ‘I will not fight him. I do not wish to be banned from the pub. But he is a… what did you call him?’
‘A git.’
‘A good word. I shall remember it.’
Despite herself, Jess laughed. ‘As long as you don’t use it on your superior officers.’
‘Only if they really annoy me.’ He raised his glass to her in a silent toast. ‘Anyway, I would rather stay with you than fight that git. I am glad you did not leave with May but wanted to stay here with me.’
Jess flashed him a wide smile. ‘It’s cold outside. I’d rather spend my last hour of free time in the warm.’ Give Milan an inch and he’d take a mile. She wished sometimes that Milan wasn’t so… intense. Just because she had danced with him at the Midsummer dance, allowed him to kiss her, he seemed to regard her as his. Although she had to admit the kiss had been spectacular, and she couldn’t help feeling flattered at his single-minded pursuit. Despite the ruthlessness with which he had dealt with the spies, he had shown her nothing but kindness and treated her with respect.
Respect. She had to hurriedly block out the memories of a time when a man had treated her with anything but respect. No. She had promised herself never to allow him space in her mind again. He wasn’t worth it. Flirting with the pilots at Amberton had proved a good way of pushing away the bad memories.
She had to admit, she had not felt so inclined to flirt with other men since meeting Milan. And not many men would have given up their free time to spend dressed up in a stifling pantomime horse’s costume. No, she was happy to spend time exclusively with Milan while she was at Amberton. Just as long as he didn’t expect more. She would never give a man her heart again.
‘How awful. Mr Walker is such a… a…’ May flapped her hands vaguely, searching for the right description.
‘A loathsome git,’ Jess supplied.
‘I was going to say slimy toad, but yours is better.’
It was the next evening and the two girls were in the schoolroom. It was the first chance May and Jess had had to talk since May had left Jess at the pub. Jess had returned too late for any conversation that night and they had both been busy with their duties ever since. The moment Jess had arrived back at the Waafery, she’d made cocoa for them both and regaled May with the story of what Arnold Walker had said and done at the pub.
‘Well, I’m glad you’ve arranged to get the programmes printed,’ said May. ‘You were really brave to speak to him alone.’
‘I almost wish I ’adn’t. Giving ’im our business really rankles, but it would have been too difficult to find a printer in Chichester.’ Jess picked up her mug of cocoa, took a sip, winced and put the mug back down. ‘I swear I ain’t stopped washing my ’ands since then.’
May shuddered. ‘Arnold Walker gives me the creeps.’ Then she remembered what she’d seen. ‘And I’m sure he was listening in to our conversation yesterday.’ She frowned into her mug as though she would find inspiration in the swirling steam. ‘It’s odd. He seemed to take notice when we mentioned Mrs Evans.’
‘Mrs Evans?’ Jess gave an incredulous laugh. ‘I’d almost forgotten ’er.’ She shook her head. ‘Never thought there’d be someone in the village I’d dislike more.’
She looked like she was about to say more, but the drone of approaching engines made her break off. She rose and gazed at the window, even though it was impossible to see through the blackout curtains. Then the tension drained from her shoulders. ‘Hurricanes,’ she said. ‘Thank God. Sounds like all three returning. Do you think that’s three?’
May concentrated. She guessed that Milan must be on patrol tonight. Jess would have been in Ops when they took off. Jess’s cup rattled on the table as the Hurricanes flew right over the house, making their descent to the airfield. ‘Sounds like three,’ she said, and heard Jess release a shaky breath. Not for the first time, she wondered why Jess wasn’t more open about her feelings for Milan when she clearly felt deeply for him. But whenever Evie had asked, Jess had insisted she was just having fun, and May didn’t like to pry into what was clearly a closely guarded secret.
‘Anyway, talking of Mrs Evans,’ Jess said, returning to her chair and kicking off her shoes. ‘Did you find Miss Foster?’
Now it was May’s turn to get agitated. ‘I’d almost forgotten in all the excitement. Yes, I told her all about Mrs Evans, not that she seemed to believe me. Or, rather, she thought Peggy was telling tales to get attention.’ She swore she could feel bubbles of rage popping in her veins as she related the whole of the meeting. ‘I just feel so helpless, like I’ve let Peggy down,’ she said at the end.
‘You’re not the one who’s let her down,’ Jess said, her expression grim. ‘Maybe there are kids who’d make up stories to get attention, but if Miss Foster had taken the slightest interest in Peggy, she’d know Peggy’s not the type.’
‘I can’t bear to think what Peggy’s going through at the moment,’ May said. ‘She poured out her heart to me, thinking I would be able to make things better for her. Right now, she could be sitting on her bed, waiting for someone to come and take her to a happier home.’
‘You don’t know that won’t happen. Miss Foster promised to look into it, didn’t she?’
‘True, but I don’t think she’ll expect to find a problem.’ May gazed gloomily at the froth on the surface of her cocoa. ‘She doesn’t believe Peggy, so won’t be expecting to discover anything amiss.’
The girls sat in silence for a while. The clock ticked away the empty seconds on the mantelpiece; behind the blackout curtains, the sash windows rattled in their frames as a squally wind picked up. Usually May enjoyed these quiet evenings in the schoolroom, but not tonight. How could she enjoy her own escape from home when she knew Peggy was suffering as she had?
‘Well, this is a bright welcome!’ said a familiar voice. There, framed in the doorway, was Evie, her greatcoat fastened up to her chin, her red hair untidy. She gave them a beaming smile.
‘Evie!’ Jess leapt to her feet and greeted their friend with an enthusiastic hug. ‘What are you doing here? Don’t tell us you’ve been sent back?’ May detected a faint note of hope in Jess’s voice.
‘No such luck,’ Evie laughed. ‘Didn’t Alex tell you?’ Here her face lit with a luminous glow. ‘I asked him to let you know I’ve passed my filterer officer’s training.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ May said, finally getting her turn to hug Evie. Then, ‘You didn’t walk up here on your own, did you?’
Evie shook her head. ‘Alex walked me here.’
‘That explains why your hair’s messed up,’ Jess said with a wink.
Evie, her cheeks turning pink, ignored Jess and said, ‘He’s coming back in an hour, but I wanted to see you both as soon as possible.’
‘An hour? Is that all?’
‘For tonight. I’ve got four days before I start my officer training and I’m spending them here. What do you think? I’ve got a room at the Horse and Groom.’
Jess pulled up another chair. ‘That’s blinkin’ marvellous. Take a pew, if you’re not too high and mighty to mix with us lowly ACWs.’
‘Never!’ Evie peeled off her coat, flung it over the back of a chair and curled up in the offered armchair. ‘Anyway, I’m not officially an officer until I’ve completed the training.’
‘That’s a foregone conclusion,’ May said. ‘You’re going to make a brilliant officer.’ To her consternation, she felt tears prick her eyelids.
Evie’s expression changed to one of concern. ‘May, what’s the matter? Has something happened?’
May shook her head, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. ‘I just… I missed you so much.’ It was hard to force the words past the lump in her throat. May couldn’t understand what was happening to her.
‘Cheers, May. You really know how to give a girl a confidence boost.’ But Jess was smiling as she spoke to take the sting from her words.
May chuckled and the smarting in her eyes faded. ‘You’ve been a brick, Jess. I’d be crying with happiness if it was you returning after weeks away, too.’
‘So, as I haven’t got long before I’ve got to leave, who’s going to tell me your news?’
‘Go on, May, tell her about Peter.’ Then, before May could say anything, Jess turned to Evie. ‘She’s been beaming bright as a searchlight ever since she got back from Kenilworth. And guess who she went there with?’
Evie gave a squeal of delight. ‘Peter?’
May nodded, her face burning.
‘That’s wonderful. Tell me all about it,’ Evie said.
And the hour passed all too quickly in news and laughter.
‘Are you free any time tomorrow?’ Evie asked as she rose to leave. ‘I’m going to be on my own most of the day, with Alex on duty.’
‘Not until the evening, and we’ve got rehearsals for the pantomime,’ Jess said.
‘A pantomime? What a good idea. Can I come?’
They collected Evie from the pub on their way to the rehearsals. Milan and Jiří were with them and Alex accompanied Evie. Even though May was overjoyed to have Evie there, she worried she would get tongue-tied performing in front of an audience for the first time.
However, she forgot her nerves when Peggy arrived, alone as usual. The girl gave her such a reproachful look that May’s heart sank.
‘Where’s Susie?’ Jess asked, when the children had gathered around. They were a more sombre group than usual, hardly surprising, considering what had happened to their home town.
‘Her mum was killed.’ It was one of the boys who answered – Danny. He spoke in such a matter-of-fact way, it took a moment for the meaning to sink in. When it did, May felt sick that young children were being forced to confront such horrors.
Another girl, Lottie, nodded, eyes wide. ‘She was crying all day at school.’
Jess looked horrified. ‘Poor Susie.’ She swept her gaze over the rest of the children, brows drawn together. ‘What about the rest of you? Have you heard from your families?’ Peggy sat silent but the other three children clamoured to answer.
It turned out that the two boys, Danny and George, had mothers with babies. They had left Coventry at the same time as the other children. Lottie’s mother had been hurt but would be fine. However, George was still waiting to learn about his grandparents, and Lottie’s auntie had been killed.
‘The vicar came to see us,’ Lottie said, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘He was very kind. He took us to church and let us light candles.’
May’s heart ached for these children, remembering the devastation she had witnessed in Coventry. It was awful to think that people dear to them had been among the dead.
Jess appeared to be at a momentary loss for words, then she gathered herself. ‘Tell Susie we’re thinking of her,’ she said, ‘and let her know she’s welcome to come back any time if she feels up to it.’ She was silent again for a while and the children sat with bowed heads. ‘I’ve had an idea,’ Jess said after the silence had stretched out for several long seconds. ‘We can take a collection when we perform the pantomime. To help your families. What do you think?’
Most of the children agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Peggy sat with bowed head, tracing patterns on the dusty floorboards with her fingers.
‘Do you feel up to rehearsals tonight? You’ve been doing so well, it won’t matter if you’d rather wait until next week.’ When the children insisted they wanted to stay – even Peggy joined in with this – Jess chivvied them to their feet. ‘Then let’s get started.’
May sat on the steps at the side of the stage while Jess took the children through their opening song. Her job as prompter was unnecessary now, as the children were word-perfect and moved through the steps of the dance in unison. May kept her eyes on Peggy. At the start of the dance, the children were supposed to be dejected, thinking of all the tasks they would have to return to when they finished their play time. They moved as Jess had shown them, with bowed heads and listless, shuffling steps. However, something told May that Peggy’s actions weren’t part of her performance. Towards the end of the song, the children were supposed to have forgotten their troubles in play, and were trying to coax a smile from Cinderella, who had been sent to collect berries even though it was winter. The other children seemed to have taken the words of the song to heart and had thrown off their troubles for a time and seemed to be wholly in the moment. Peggy performed the same steps, but there was no smile, none of the sparkle the others displayed. With a sinking heart, May concluded that something else had happened since she had last seen Peggy. She must speak to her before she left.
At the end of the rehearsal Jess praised them for the excellent progress they had made and sent them to the back of the hall to put on their coats. May put a hand on Peggy’s arm to keep her back. ‘What’s happened, Peggy? I told Miss Foster about Mrs Evans. Has she said anything?’
‘Yes.’
That seemed to be all she was going to say. The Peggy who had poured out her woes had disappeared, leaving this taciturn, uncooperative version in her place. ‘Please tell me what happened, Peggy. I want to help.’
‘How?’ Some of Peggy’s old fire kindled in her eyes. ‘Telling Miss Foster has made everything worse.’ She pulled away from May and stomped down the steps. ‘She came to see Mrs Evans last night, said she was sure there had been a misunderstanding, but she needed to check.’
‘Oh.’ A leaden weight settled in May’s stomach as she followed Peggy down from the stage. ‘What did Mrs Evans say?’
Peggy scowled. ‘She’s such a liar. She said she quite understood – Miss Foster was only doing her job.’ Peggy put on an affected air and imitated Mrs Evans’ refined tones. ‘Said she would expect no less from such an excellent headmistress, and of course the kiddies had to come first.’ Peggy’s lip curled. ‘She actually said “kiddies”.’
There was a snort behind May’s shoulder. She looked to see Jess standing with Evie and Alex. The other children had all gone. ‘She should be an actress,’ Jess said. ‘Don’t tell me Miss Foster believed her?’
Peggy nodded. ‘Now Miss Foster thinks I was making it all up.’
‘I’m sorry if I made it worse,’ May said. ‘But I believe you, and so does Jess.’
‘Absolutely. I’d believe anything of that old b— old busybody.’
‘I’m not giving up,’ May said. ‘I’ll keep trying to get you moved to a better home.’
‘Thank you.’ But Peggy’s voice was so dull and hopeless, May knew she didn’t expect things to improve.
Once Peggy had left with Mrs Grey, May, Jess, Evie and Alex set off for the pub. Evie murmured something to Alex then came to May’s side. ‘What’s going on with that girl?’ she asked.
May blew out a long sigh. ‘I don’t want to spoil your stay. There’s nothing you can do.’
‘Maybe not, but I’m offering you a sympathetic ear.’ Evie squeezed May’s arm. ‘When I was confused about Alex, you were a brilliant listener. I’m just returning the favour.’
And so May poured out all her worries about Peggy. Evie didn’t interrupt while May was talking, listening carefully to May’s recount of the past few weeks. When May had finished, Evie said, ‘Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you looking out for her.’
‘I’m not so sure. It feels like I’ve made everything worse.’
‘How can you say that? You found her mother, for goodness’ sake. How many people would have done even half as much in your place?’
‘She’s still stuck with Mrs Evans, though.’
‘Through no fault of yours. You’ve done everything you can. Don’t be so hard on yourself.’
‘Listen to her, May,’ Jess called. ‘She’s an officer now, so you have to do what she says.’
‘I’m not one yet,’ Evie replied, laughing. ‘But I’d make it an order if I could.’
‘I wish you would give me an order,’ May said. ‘You always know the right thing to do.’
Evie snorted. ‘That’s not true. If I could order you, it would be to carry on exactly as you are. You’ve got good instincts. You are helping.’
While it might not have been the instant solution that May had hoped for, she did feel better. And when they reached the door of the Horse and Groom, Evie held May back. ‘You’ve come such a long way since we first met,’ she said. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Lidford, a word, please.’ Flight Officer Payne strode into the shed where May was checking the oil of her Hillman Minx.
May hastily replaced the dipstick and wiped her hands on a rag then followed her CO.
Payne led May to her office but didn’t invite her to sit down. She sat in her chair, regarding a slip of paper on the desk with a scowl. ‘I’ve had a complaint about you.’
May’s heart dropped. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’ She’d been a driver on the station for months and not one of her passengers had ever complained before. On the contrary, she’d only ever received praise both for her driving and her manner. ‘May I ask what about?’
‘It’s from someone in the village, which makes this rather awkward. The station has always had excellent links with the village, so I was disturbed to receive this complaint concerning a member of my flight.’ Payne flourished the paper. ‘I have to say, I was very surprised. You’ve always struck me as a quiet, conscientious girl. Indeed, Flight Officer Ellerby speaks very highly of you and commended you for your actions when the station was bombed, so I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to see this report.’
May had a horrible feeling she knew what the complaint was about. She braced herself as she stood to attention, remaining silent.
‘The complaint is from a Miss Foster, the headmistress of the primary school.’
‘Miss Foster?’ May was confused. ‘Is it something to do with the pantomime?’ If anyone was going to complain, she’d have expected it to be Mrs Evans.
‘It’s nothing to do with the pantomime. In fact, Miss Foster was kind enough to say she thought you and your friend—’ Payne frowned at the paper ‘—Halloway were doing fine work with the evacuee children.’
‘Then what is she unhappy about?’
‘You’ve been making false accusations about respectable members of the community.’
May went cold. She would never have believed that Miss Foster would stoop so low to report her for trying to help a child.
Payne referred to the report again. ‘Apparently you’ve accused Mrs Evans, who is an active member of the WRVS and a member of the parish council, of stealing rations.’ The groove between Payne’s brows deepened. ‘Moreover, and I must say I find this hard to believe, Mrs Evans reported to Miss Foster that you made a disturbance in her haberdashery store that upset her customers. Can you explain either of these accusations?’
May hesitated. She could only think of Jess’s outburst when she had been defending Milan from Arnold Walker’s comments. She didn’t think Jess had done anything wrong, but didn’t want to get her into trouble, either. However she couldn’t let either complaint go undefended. If she was ever going to be approved for officer training, she needed her Flight Officer’s recommendation.
‘One of the children in the pantomime told me she was being badly treated by Mrs Evans,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘It would have been irresponsible of me to ignore it, so I reported the matter to her headmistress, thinking she was the right person to deal with it.’
Payne’s face was unreadable. ‘And the other matter?’
‘I think the disturbance—’
‘You think? You mean you’re not sure? There has been more than one?’
‘No, ma’am.’ Whatever happened, she mustn’t get Jess into trouble. ‘I just couldn’t think of any disturbance I’ve made. I was in the haberdashery when another customer insulted one of our Czech pilots, but I kept out of it.’ May felt safe mentioning the involvement of a pilot, seeing as pilots were RAF and therefore immune to discipline from a WAAF officer.
Payne’s face softened fractionally. ‘I’ve heard there’s been some ill feeling in the village since that business with the saboteur.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Well, it sounds like there has been a misunderstanding, so I won’t be taking any further action.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘However.’ There was a warning note in Payne’s voice that made May tense up again. ‘Whether fairly or unfairly, the WAAFs are under constant scrutiny when they step outside the station. If I hear your name linked to any other trouble in the village I’ll be forced to put you on a charge.’ Payne put down the paper and gave May a stern look. ‘I can’t blame you for wanting to help a child, though I must remind you that we should not be involving ourselves in village affairs. By all means, continue with the pantomime – it’s good for morale and improves our reputation in the village. But if I hear you are causing trouble for an upstanding member of the community, I will come down on you so hard, you’ll wish you were still buried in that bomb shelter. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Very well. Dismissed.’
May saluted and walked out, fighting the urge to run. She could feel her face burning. She had never been in trouble before, and to be reprimanded for caring for the welfare of a child seemed too cruel. Now she was faced with a dilemma. Did she continue to fight for Peggy and possibly wave goodbye to any chance of promotion or did she obey orders and leave Peggy to suffer?