Chapter Seventeen

Shirley looked up and appeared to notice her landlady and friend looming above her only after Ruth had said the girl’s name three times. It took a few more moments before her eyes focused on her.

“I’m sorry, Ruth. Didn’t see you there.”

After speaking, her focus slid off, back to somewhere over Ruth’s left shoulder. Unbidden, Ruth pulled out a seat and sat down. Eyeing the scrunched-up piece of paper, now she was much closer, it seemed to be a letter. Her brow furrowed. This was all very strange, as she knew how much Shirley treasured each letter and postcard from her POW husband. Sitting back, Ruth contemplated the girl before her. They’d had a heart-to-heart about the hangar dance, and she believed what they’d discussed had been enough to clear the air, or to at least begin to. When she thought about it, there wasn’t a time since then she could place her going out with anyone, let alone those Ruth thought of as her closest friends. She knew Penny, Doris, and Mary had all been very busy lately with deliveries, so perhaps they weren’t to blame, this time.

Reaching out a hand, she inched it toward the scrunched-up paper, expecting Shirley to tell her to mind her own business at any time. Her fingers touched it, and she looked up into the still blank, unseeing face of her friend. Figuring if she didn’t want her to read it, the girl would stop her, she drew the ball toward her. As she began to carefully unravel it, over the background noise, she barely heard Shirley say, “Go ahead.”

Twice Ruth read it through, and she couldn’t see anything in it which could have caused this depressed mood. Thankfully there wasn’t anything personal, either. With the enemy reading each missive, hoping to intercept some useful intelligence, she wouldn’t expect there to be, even in some kind of code. Her son didn’t write as often as he did when he first became a prisoner. Still, when she read this letter a third time, an inkling of a suspicion began to spark in her mind. One more quick read through and she put it down. Ruth hadn’t attended each and every one of Shirley’s read-throughs of her husband’s previous letters or postcards, but they’d always ended in the same way, with the same four words, “See you soon, Darling.” Not this time.

When Ruth put the smoothed-out paper onto the table and pushed it back toward her, she could see Shirley was at least now looking at her. Ruth reached out and, slowly, hesitantly at first, placed her hand onto Shirley’s. “Tell me what you think is wrong?”

She’d hesitated at the phrasing of her question, as she wasn’t entirely sure what problem Shirley was seeing. Something was really worrying her, though, and she needed to know what before she could begin to help.

“I think he’s going to do something stupid!” Shirley blurted out.

Ah. “Like what?”

Shirley leant in closer and squeezed Ruth’s fingers so hard Ruth thought they were in danger of breaking if any more pressure was applied. “Like trying to escape.” Her gaze darted around the room, fearful someone who shouldn’t have might have overheard what she’d said.

“What on earth makes…it’s not because he didn’t end his letter as usual, is it?”

If anything, the pressure on her fingers increased, and Ruth began to bite her lip. Fortunately, Shirley noticed and, with a muttered, “Sorry,” released her grip and sat back. “It’s possible,” she agreed.

“And…” Ruth prompted when her companion didn’t elaborate. “Look, if it’s just that, I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m not saying every letter from my son is full of the joys of spring, but you’ve got to take into account being a prisoner can’t be a bed of roses.”

Shirley sighed. “I know, I know.”

“Then what is it?”

“You may think I’m being paranoid.” Shirley briefly stopped to see if Ruth was going to interrupt. “Only he’s always before used every scrap of space, be it letter or postcard. The last few, he’s barely scrawled a word, and this time, he didn’t say he loved me.”

As she told Ruth this, she reached out and carefully folded the letter and slipped it inside the pocket of her coat. She looked into Ruth’s eyes and, swallowing down her fear, managed to tell Ruth, “I believe he’s going to do something stupid. I really think he’s going to try to escape. Yes, I know I’ve little, very little, to go on, but I can’t help what I feel, and I’m scared.”

****

Next morning, Mary knocked on Penny’s bedroom door and, upon being told to come in, was greeted by a strange sight. Penny was kneeling on her chest of drawers, her upper body hanging out the window.

“Trying to fly without a plane?” Mary asked, stopping by her side and trying to peer out the window.

Penny shook her head, yet still kept it out the window.

Climbing onto the chest of drawers, Mary nudged her friend a little until she could get her head out the window also. This didn’t help to shed any light on what Penny was doing. All Mary could see below her was Betty’s back garden, which since the outbreak of war had been turned into a vegetable garden. The only things moving were the chickens the household kept (she suppressed a shudder at the sight), in their pen, and a few birds flitting back and forth, and Ruth’s dog, Bobby, trotting toward the gap in the rear hedge she knew led to Ruth’s back garden. All in all, nothing seemed to be unusual.

“I give in,” she shrugged, withdrawing her head and turning around to sit, legs dangling, on the chest.

So, apparently, did Penny, as she too turned to sit on the chest. Laying her head on her friend’s shoulder, Penny moaned, “Oh, Mary, what am I to do?”

Mary clutched the hand Penny snaked onto her lap. “What’s happened? What were you looking for?”

“My lucky bra.”

Her surprise at Penny’s words caused Mary to notice her friend had her uniform trousers on, though still had her robe on top.

“You’ve lost your, ahem, bra?” Mary paused as she’d never been comfortable when discussing anything to do with sex. Strangely enough, so far as Mary was concerned this included underwear. This had caused her friends multiple opportunities for pulling her leg—though, to be fair, they had kept this to a minimum. She bit too easily.

Penny nodded. “How am I supposed to fly without it?”

Lucky charm or not, Mary had to hop down from the chest to be able to look her friend in the face, checking she was serious. Even then, she had to ask. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” Penny sniffed.

“At the risk of sounding silly,” Mary ventured, “you don’t have a second lucky, um, bra?”

Penny shook her head. “Of course not.”

After waiting a few moments to see if her friend was making a joke, Mary threw back her head and yelled, “Doris! Betty! Need you in here!”

The thunder of footsteps heralded her American friend dashing up the stairs and bursting into the room. “What’s wrong?”

Mary could just make out Betty’s much more sedate plod from along the landing. Betty didn’t like to run, if she could help it. After her stabbing, she preferred to walk, given the choice, saying if she ran she got out of breath much more quickly than she used to. “You called?” she enquired, placing a hand on Doris’s shoulder.

“Penny’s in need of a search party,” Mary told them.

This got two pairs of raised eyebrows in response. “What are we looking for?” Betty asked. Doris was still catching her breath.

When Mary didn’t answer, Doris and Betty both turned their enquiring gazes upon Penny, who with an exasperated glance at Mary told them, “I’ve lost my lucky bra.”

Never slow to respond when she found something funny, Doris couldn’t help but ask, “I don’t suppose you’re wearing it?”

This got her a pillow in the face from Betty, which she accepted with good grace.

“Good shot.” Sitting on the edge of Penny’s bed, Doris rubbed her face. “Seriously, when was the last time you saw it?”

“Last night,” Penny replied. “I’d finished wringing it out after giving it a wash and had hung it out of my window to dry overnight, as I usually do.”

“You wash your bra every day!” Betty asked.

Penny shrugged her shoulders. “Not every day. Two or three times a week.”

“And you hang it out the window.”

“It’s never gone missing before!” Penny declared. “I always make sure the window weighs it down so it doesn’t blow away.”

Doris looked out the open window. “Well, it doesn’t seem to be in the back garden.” She glanced at her watch and came to a decision. “We’ve got a spare five minutes before we have to leave for the airfield, so let’s go downstairs and see if we have any luck. Penny,” she said, “you’ll just have to put on another for the meantime.” Knowing the power a lucky charm could have on anyone, she’d got in her joke and was now serious.

****

“So why do you think Lawrence needs to be seen by a nurse?”

Mary had asked the same question twice since the group had passed Grace Baxter as they’d left Betty’s. Having not had any luck in finding Penny’s bra, they’d been about to start their walk to work when Shirley came into view. Fortuitously, they were slightly late or they wouldn’t have had the chance to walk with her. For her part, Shirley had seemed happy enough to link arms with Doris and Penny and had made all the right noises when she’d been informed of Penny’s woes. Doris was certain she’d caught her suppressing a laugh when she’d first heard, though.

So for the second time, Shirley replied, “Ruth asked her to drop in to check Lawrence’s foot and arm are healing properly.”

“Why couldn’t he go to the hospital like everyone else?” Mary complained again, throwing a wistful glance over her shoulder.

“Come on, you,” Doris told her. “We’re going to be late. And stop worrying about Grace. She’s doing you both a favor.”

“And you came to this conclusion, how?” Mary wanted to know, as Betty took her by the hand to hurry her up.

“If he doesn’t have to make his own way to the hospital, he’ll have all the more energy for you in the evening!”

To the accompaniment of much laughter, Mary cast her head down as she went red to the tips of her ears. However, she did seem to cheer up, even managing a smile when Thelma gave her the chits for her deliveries.

“How do you think she’s getting on?” she asked Doris as they both changed into their flying suits shortly after.

“I don’t have a clue,” Doris answered from somewhere in the depths of her woolen pullover. As her head popped through the neck, she added, “Though I have no idea how Thelma’s going to react to her request.”

****

Thelma thought she’d heard everything, but she’d never heard as strange a request as Penny had just made. Staring across the desk at her friend, she decided she wasn’t mad. However, “Pardon me?”

Thanking the gods everyone else in the hut was busy and therefore not paying attention to their conversation, Penny repeated as requested. “I was hoping you could take me off flying today.”

“And this was because, again?” Thelma prompted.

“I’ve lost my,” Penny lowered her voice anyway, “lucky ivory bra. I don’t feel safe flying without it.”

Unable to stop herself, Thelma let out a burst of laughter but just as quickly reined it in. She held up her hands in apology, as Penny sat there finding nothing remotely amusing about the situation.

“Forgive me, Penny. I shouldn’t have laughed. However, I can’t grant your request. Perhaps,” she hastened to add when Penny made to open her mouth to interrupt, “if we didn’t have such a busy day. I really am sorry, but we need everyone we can get today.”

“Oh,” was all Penny could say.

“Is it really so bad for you?” Thelma wanted to know. “You must have flown without…the item…before.”

“I can fly without it,” Penny admitted. Thelma looked about to clap her hands in delight, until Penny added a coda. “However, my landings do look like I’ve filled up with kangaroo fuel.”

Thelma had to ask, “There’s no sign?” and, “You definitely don’t have a spare, you know, lucky bra at home?”

“No to both. It’s an Ad Kayser I got from Paris in 1939. You just can’t get them anymore.”

“Ah.” In the circumstances, there wasn’t really anything else to be said.

Seeing she would have to fly, Penny stood up, thanked Thelma for listening, and made her way toward the flight line hut where Doris and Mary were lounging on the steps waiting for her.

“No luck,” Doris stated, not troubling to make it a question. At Penny’s shake of the head, Doris gave her a hug. “I’m sorry. Seriously, will you be all right?”

Penny gave her a smile and told her, “As I’ve had to tell Thelma, I can fly fine, but my landings are very…bouncy, when I’m not wearing it.”

“Very apt,” quipped Mary, surprising even herself and earning a guffaw from each of her friends as she went red once more.

****

“What was up with Penny?’ Jane asked of Thelma once the Anson taxi had taken off.

“Rather a strange one,” was the enigmatic reply.

Jane perched on the edge of Thelma’s desk. “Try me.”

Thelma placed her pen down and leant back into her chair, the better to watch Jane’s face. “She said she didn’t feel like she could fly today.”

“Is she feeling ill?” Jane asked quickly before Thelma could carry on, shooting an anxious glance out the window as the Anson passed out of sight.

“If only it were so simple,” Thelma replied, shaking her head. “She’s lost her lucky bra.”

Jane didn’t know how to react, and only when Thelma repeated herself did she stop shaking her head. “Let me get this right. This is a lucky charm thing, right? I assume you told her she’d have to fly?”

Thelma nodded. “I did try to assure her if we didn’t have such a busy schedule today, we could have done something.”

“So my fault then?” Jane implied, her smile one a shark would have been proud of.

“Not in so many words.” Thelma shrugged, matching her smile.

Jane got to her feet and paced back and forth for a few minutes before she turned back to face her friend. “Tell me I’m right. It’s a normal day. No spot inspections or anything else? I wouldn’t be missed if I disappear for a few hours?”

Thelma opened her diary, pretty much a duplicate of the one in Jane’s office, and spent a minute checking before answering, “I think we can do without you for a few hours, yes. May I ask why?”

“I’ve a little trip I need to make,” she hinted, tapping her nose. “Have all the gang meet up at Betty’s later. Tell them I’ll be around about six.”