All too soon, May heard the creak of the hall door swinging open followed by the tramp of many feet and the babble of eager voices. May, who was arranging the plants on stage behind the closed curtains, couldn’t resist peering through. She was stunned at the number of people filing into their seats, clutching the programmes. The gnawing fear, which had subsided while listening to the king’s speech, now returned in full force. She had never imagined so many people would want to watch their little pantomime.
Then she felt a hand on her arm and she turned to see Jess in her Cinderella rags. Her eyes were shining. ‘I never imagined so many people would want to come.’ It echoed her own thoughts precisely, only with a very different emotion. ‘We’re going to give them a Christmas they’ll never forget.’
Oddly, those words helped calm May a little. She thought of all the hardships the villagers had endured – the bombings; rationing; losing loved ones. They deserved a chance to forget their worries for a while.
As though reading her mind, Jess squeezed May’s arm and said, ‘You can do this, May. This is nothing compared to what you’ve already achieved. You can bring a little joy into the village this afternoon.’
May nodded and drew a deep breath. Jess was right. She had done this over and over in rehearsal. Everyone in the audience was here for fun, not to criticise.
‘Can you see Evie and Alex?’ Jess asked. ‘And what about Peter? Is he here yet?’
May looked out through the tiny gap in the heavy red curtains. There was Davey, sitting at the front with Mr and Mrs Bowes and the other boys he’d been staying with. He gazed up at the stage, his face alight with expectation. Many other evacuees were there, and May was determined to do her best to ensure they enjoyed the day. Further back, she could see Evie and Alex. They were holding hands, and Evie rested her head on Alex’s shoulder. The sight brought tears of happiness to May’s eyes. There was Mrs Grey sat at the piano, waiting for Jess’s signal to start playing.
But there was no sign of Peter. No matter how May searched the faces of the audience, she couldn’t spot his kind, handsome face.
Jess pulled her away from the curtain. ‘He’ll be here,’ she murmured. ‘I know it.’ She pulled them to the side of the stage. ‘Time to take our places.’
It was for the best that Peter wasn’t here. It would distract her, knowing he was watching. This way she could keep a clear head for the performance and help make this a special day for the children and the whole village. As four o’clock approached, an expectant hush fell over the audience. Jess, after checking everyone was in position, turned off the lights in the main hall and switched on the stage lights. This was the signal for Mrs Grey to start playing. She struck up the opening song.
The stage hands drew back the curtains and May felt a thrill when the audience gasped at the beautiful woodland scene. Then Cinderella ran onto the stage accompanied by the children, and the pantomime had begun. May was so lost in the performance that she bounded onto the stage when the hunting horn sounded without a thought. Her nerves melted away as she accused Cinderella of ruining the hunt, and hearing children’s laughter over the antics of the stag gave her a thrill of delight. The evacuees’ enjoyment more than made up for the weeks of hard work and worry.
Before she knew it, she was delivering her parting shot, and the line she had always found difficult, where her anger became attraction. Her movements had become second nature. She paced to the front of the stage, facing the audience. Thankfully they were in darkness, so she could only see vague outlines. She fixed her eyes on the spot where she knew Evie was sitting, instinctively seeking out a friendly face. ‘You dare defy me, when you’re…’ May’s attention was drawn by a flare of orange light in the audience. A man in the row in front of Evie was lighting a cigarette. The glow from his lighter briefly lit the face of the man beside Alex. There was no mistaking the cleft chin or the laughter lines around mouth and eyes. It was a face etched onto May’s heart. Peter.
Time seemed to slow down. Her heart full of love and hope, she turned to Jess to deliver the rest of her line. ‘You’re just a servant girl.’ She knew from the fractional widening of Jess’s eyes that she had finally got the delivery just right. All it had taken was Peter’s presence. She exited the stage, hoping the audience couldn’t see her legs tremble.
She changed into the costume she would be wearing for the rest of the play hardly aware of what was going on around her. Then Jess, the children, Milan and Jiří exited and the stage hands dashed on to switch the scene to the kitchen.
Jess grasped her shoulders. ‘You were wonderful, May. That last line – perfect!’
‘Peter’s here.’ It was all May could say. It was her only coherent thought.
Jess patted her shoulder. ‘Then knock him dead. And don’t worry. He’ll never be able to say no to you after seeing you in those tights and boots.’ Then she cocked her head, looking May up and down. ‘And he’ll enjoy seeing you in this outfit, too.’
May felt her face burn. This suit was straight out of the costume box and fitted her to perfection. It consisted of a long white shirt with a fitted brocade waistcoat over the top. Jess had taken in the waist, giving May curves she’d never known she possessed. She also wore tight-fitting knee breeches over thick white stockings and satin pumps. Until today, Peter had only seen her in skirts and dresses. Now she was very conscious of her long legs and prayed she didn’t trip over them and make a fool of herself.
‘Please will one of you help with my hair?’ It was Milan, holding the towering wig he was supposed to wear as the Ugly Sister.
‘I’ll do it,’ May said hastily, not wanting to make Jess feel awkward about seeing Milan. ‘Anyway, you should be on stage, Jess.’
Jess gave a little yelp and ran onto the stage, grabbed her broomstick and took her place. A moment later, Flight Officer Jean Ellerby swept on stage to take her position by the large fireplace that had been expertly painted on the backdrop. The curtains swung open and Jess started to sweep while Jean Ellerby, playing the stepmother, issued a stream of impossible instructions. Things like making a pigeon pie with no pigeons or pastry, dusting the shelves without making the duster dirty and washing clothes without getting them wet.
May half listened to the dialogue while she turned to Milan to fix his wig.
She had just finished when Buttons made his appearance. Soon after, the ugly sisters, Turpentina and Kerosina, entered. May listened to the laughter of the audience and knew it was going well. She peered out from the side of the curtain, looking for Peter. There he was, sitting next to Evie, laughing and clapping with the rest. Was it her imagination, or was he looking into the wings more than at the action on stage? Then he seemed to look right at her. May dropped the curtain as though it burned and sprang back into the shadows. She had to put him out of her mind for now, or she would never get through to the end of the pantomime.
She went to get Jess’s ball gown ready for the transformation scene. There wouldn’t be much time to get her into it, so she needed to be prepared. But all the while she ran through her mind what she should say to Peter.
Then time seemed to rush ahead. She was watching the fairy godmother run on stage. Then she was helping Jess into the voluminous ballgown of cream parachute silk. A moment later she was striding on stage as Prince Charming, fighting off the advances of the ugly sisters. What seemed like mere seconds later, she was in the kitchen with Jess as Cinderella trying on the ‘glass’ slipper and then the whole cast was on stage singing the closing song. The audience clapped and cheered but May could only gaze out at Peter’s face as he smiled at her from the audience.
Then the curtain came down, and May dashed off stage. She had a sudden horror that Peter would leave without saying goodbye. She didn’t wait to get changed, but flew down the steps, only to run straight into Peter himself. After a whole day spent in agonising anticipation of this moment, it took the solidity of his chest to convince her she wasn’t dreaming and he really stood there. He had his greatcoat draped over one arm. Please don’t let him be leaving.
‘Don’t go,’ she said.
At the same time, Peter said, ‘I was coming to see you.’
There was an awkward pause, then May gave a nervous laugh. Courage. That’s what she needed. She could almost hear Jess saying, ‘How much more courage do you need? You rescued Peggy from that cow of a woman and just pulled off a magnificent performance, even though you were terrified of the mere prospect a few weeks ago.’
She could do this. Drawing a shaky breath, May said, ‘Thank you for coming. I wanted to talk to you.’ She looked around the room, seeking a quiet corner where they could talk. But the villagers were still milling around, wishing each other a cheery ‘Merry Christmas’ and putting money into the collection tin. The children were gathered under the tree, opening presents the village had collected for them and eating the treats that people had pooled their rations to provide. There would be nowhere backstage, as all the cast would be changing out of their costumes, removing make-up and clearing the props.
‘Let’s go outside,’ Peter said.
He didn’t make any move to hold her hand as they walked through the hall in silence and through the blackout curtain and out the door. It was now fully dark and a blast of cold air made May gasp, reminding her she still only wore the light shirt and waistcoat she had worn on stage. The chill tore through her stockings and the flimsy breeches. Then something heavy and warm settled over her shoulders – Peter’s greatcoat. May hugged it around her, relishing its warmth and breathing in the faint scent that clung to it of coal tar soap and cigarette smoke.
They walked around the side of the hall, away from audience members who were now drifting out in groups.
‘What did you want to say?’ Peter asked. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but there was a noticeable lack of the warmth she usually heard when he spoke to her.
Her heart sank. He hadn’t come to win her back. He had come for an explanation and a goodbye.
But she had come too far to let him go without a fight. ‘I wanted to apologise,’ she said. And her usually hesitant words came to her with ease. ‘I was frightened when I wrote that letter. I love you so much, but I was terrified I would lose myself in us.’
She didn’t dare look at him in case she saw nothing but rejection in his expression. Instead she gazed up at the stars, frost-bright in the midnight blue sky, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall.
‘It didn’t occur to you to talk to me about how you felt?’ Peter said. May couldn’t see his face, but she imagined it was twisted in a scowl. ‘Can you imagine how it felt to get that letter out of the blue? You should have spoken to me.’
‘I know. I’ve hated myself ever since, and I know you must hate me. It was cowardly. I’m sorry.’
‘I don’t hate you.’
And the words were spoken with such gentleness, May dared to look at him. ‘You – you don’t?’
He shook his head. ‘I could never hate you.’
Hope blossomed. ‘Even though I hurt you?’
The thin crescent moon gave just enough light to show his gentle smile. ‘As much as it hurt, I understand why you did it.’
‘I’m not sure I can. I was such a coward, but I couldn’t see any other way out.’
Peter frowned. ‘You’re too hard on yourself. And you’re not the only one to blame. I’ve thought a lot about what you said in your letter, and I’m mortified that I didn’t listen to you.’
‘I was frightened,’ May whispered, hardly daring to believe Peter was being so understanding. Her heart hammered as the words came tumbling out. ‘You can’t know how it felt to see my mother fade away day by day, unable to make her own wishes heard. I was so afraid of becoming like her, never able to speak up for myself. I should have known you were nothing like my father – I did know – but I was terrified I was too weak to ever be an equal partner in a relationship.’
‘You’re not weak. I’ve always admired your strength. Your resilience.’ Peter took her cold hands between his strong, warm ones, and all she could see was the glitter of his eyes as he gazed at her. ‘I know how you’ve struggled to free yourself from your father’s shadow, how hard it’s been to find your voice. But you have found it, and I love you for it.’
He still loved her? She tried to say she loved him too, but a sob choked off the words.
Peter continued. ‘Evie told me all about your efforts to free Peggy from a cruel foster mother. The whole village is talking about how you didn’t give up when others tried to make you stop. You’ve shown more resilience than most people I know. Do you still doubt your ability to speak up for yourself?’
She managed to gasp, ‘No. That’s why…’ She had to be brave. There could be no hesitation. She took Peter’s hand then leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. Oh, how she had missed him, missed the feel of his lips on hers. To her joy, he didn’t pull away but reached under the greatcoat and drew her close.
She only broke the kiss when she needed to catch her breath. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
‘I love you, May,’ Peter murmured.
More tears welled, but this time they were of relief and happiness. ‘I love you, too. Does this mean you’ll forgive me?’
‘On one condition.’
May drew back, frowning. ‘What?’
‘That you forgive me in return. I’ve been so concerned with fitting in to the expectation of an RAF officer that I placed my anxieties on you. I discouraged you from speaking up and I’m sorry. In future I promise to respect your concerns.’
May felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders. ‘I know you respect me. I wouldn’t love you so much if you didn’t.’
There was another lengthy pause while Peter kissed her. After a time, he said, ‘Does this mean my visits to High Chalk House are back on?’
May gasped. ‘Oh! I forgot you didn’t know. I’m leaving.’ In a breathless voice she explained about the course.
To her relief, Peter pulled her closer. ‘That’s wonderful. You deserve this chance. I know you’ll do well. It doesn’t matter where you end up, I’ll be thinking of you always.’ He leaned in for another kiss.
When May was quite breathless, Peter rested his brow upon hers. ‘It doesn’t matter how far apart we are, I’ll never stop loving you. And at the end of all this madness, I hope you’ll agree to marry me.’
May thought her heart might burst from happiness. Too overwhelmed to speak, she could only nod and beam at Peter through the sudden spill of tears. Then they were kissing again, and the world beyond the circle of Peter’s arms faded away.
Several minutes later, May was dimly aware of the sound of running feet. ‘I’m sure I saw May leave the hall. She must be out here somewhere.’ It was Jess’s voice.
Peter drew away with a soft laugh. ‘Maybe we should return to our friends before they call the police.’
May leaned in for another kiss. ‘Let them wait.’
‘Ready?’
May glanced at Jess and nodded. She picked up her kit bag and, after a last look around the nursery to make sure they hadn’t left anything, she walked through to the schoolroom. ‘I’m going to miss this place,’ she said, patting the back of her favourite armchair. How many nights had she, Jess and Evie spent there, drinking cocoa, encouraging one another, laughing, crying? This was the room where she had first learnt what it was like to have friends.
‘I know.’ Jess did a slow turn, taking in the room one last time. As she did so, there came the roar of aero engines outside as two or three Hurricanes skimmed the roof of High Chalk House and glided towards the airfield, making the sash windows rattle. ‘I’m even going to miss the sound of the Hurricanes,’ she said. ‘It’s always a comfort to hear our lads come safely home.’
They both watched as the Hurricanes made a perfect landing. ‘There will be plenty of aircraft where we’re going,’ May said.
‘I know, but it won’t be the same.’ She didn’t say so, but May knew she was thinking of Milan.
‘Do you regret leaving?’ she asked.
‘No.’ Jess was definite. ‘This is the right thing for both of us. We’ll have a whale of a time, just you wait, May Lidford.’
There was a soft knock on the schoolroom door and a young WAAF stuck her head around the door jamb. May recognised her as one of the new drivers. ‘Your transport’s here.’
They thanked the girl then, taking a deep breath, May said, ‘Come on. Missing the train won’t create a good first impression.’
Shouldering their bags, they descended the stairs, walked through the kitchen and out the back door for the last time.
‘Goodbye, High Chalk House,’ May said. It felt like she was saying goodbye to her first real home.
It was odd to be driven instead of being the driver. May slung her kit bag and gas mask into the back of the truck then scrambled in, Jess following. Then it struck her afresh that if she passed the course, her days as a driver were over.
With a jolt that made May clutch at her seat, the truck took off in a spray of gravel. She looked out of the back as the truck shot down the lanes, and May said goodbye to each tree, each familiar view as they sped by. Then they were passing the gates of the RAF base. Jess leaned out and waved at the guards. ‘Goodbye, Amberton!’
May said her own silent goodbye. Then as the airfield dwindled into the distance, she allowed herself to look forward to what lay ahead.
Jess was obviously thinking along the same lines. ‘There will be other stations, other Waaferies. And plenty more adventures for you and me, you mark my words.’
May turned her back on Amberton, feeling the first thrill of excitement. There would be new friends, too, although she would always treasure her friendship with Jess and Evie above all. They had befriended the shy, gawky girl May had been and encouraged her to blossom into a more confident young woman. Above all, there was Peter. Wherever she went, their love for each other would be a constant.
She grinned at Jess. ‘Here’s to new adventures.’