Chapter Fifteen

“Tell me again,” Doris asked as they settled into the back seat of the RAF staff car that was to take them to Fraserburgh. “How did you persuade Jane to give us this time off?”

Extracting her coat tail from beneath Doris’s bottom, Mary tried to make herself as comfortable as possible, though without much hope, for the long journey ahead of them. “A very good question to which, in all honesty, I wish I had a good answer. Strangely enough, right after she heard us talking about seeing if we’d be able to go up to my family home before your wedding, she found she needed us to drop off a Hudson at Turnhouse. Well, the rest, you know. It’s now,” she took a look at her watch, “half five. That gives us the evening to settle in, assuming they got my message and the room’s ready, and until about midday tomorrow, to make sure it’ll be what you and Walter are after.”

Doris also wriggled around a little. Whoever had been in her seat last needed to lose a few pounds, in her opinion, as her bottom kept slipping into a deep dip. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely,” she said, patting one of Mary’s hands. “It’s a pity we have to catch a train back so early tomorrow. The scenery looks breathtaking,” she added, staring out the window. “I mean, I’ve flown over plenty, but this!”

Mary took a minute to reply.

Indeed, Doris was on the point of nudging her in the ribs, thinking she’d perhaps nodded off. Not that she could blame her, as the flight up had been long and boring, and she could do with a nap herself.

“I’d forgotten how beautiful it is,” Mary finally admitted.

Doris gripped her friend’s hand hard. “I can’t wait to see the manor! Oh, I can’t thank you enough, Mary.”

Mary turned her face back from the view outside. “I only hope it lives up to your expectations.”

“It’s going to be wonderful. I just know it!” Doris tried once again to get herself comfortable and, once again, gave up. ”Whilst I think about it, how did Jane wrangle a staff car to pick us up and take us to your house?”

Perhaps their driver had been waiting for this opening, as he half-turned to address the pair. “Don’t ask me. All I know is, I was told an hour ago to drop everything and get my ass down here to pick up two ATA pilots. Of course, if they’d told me they were two beautiful ladies, I’d have made an effort with my appearance.”

“Bend!” Mary shouted, just in time for the driver to turn back and jerk the wheel so the car managed to swerve around the bend in the road without harm.

A minute later, he leant back around, only Doris never gave him the chance to say anything. “Don’t bother with the flannel. I’m engaged, and Mary’s boyfriend is a police inspector.”

“Ah,” was all he said after a few seconds, before turning back and, to the relief of the girls, putting all his attention back onto the business of driving.

Doris elbowed Mary gently in the side and indicated she should bob down, where Doris joined her. “I think it’d take much more than an hour for our driver to become…presentable.”

The pair shared a chuckle before they were interrupted by the driver again. “My boss wanted to make sure you both got this,” he said, dangling a flask over his shoulder, this time keeping his eyes on the road.

Raising their eyebrows at each other, though he’d given no indication he’d heard what they’d said, Mary thanked him, and he then replied, kind of answering the last question, “If you ask me, I think this Jane person—presumably your boss—must have something on our Station Commander. No sooner had he come into the MT office than, two minutes later, I had my orders to take the cleanest car we had and pick up the two of you— Bugger! Watch out where you’re going!” he then yelled at a pedestrian who was walking along the wrong side of the street without anything bright showing. “Honestly,” he muttered, “some people have a bloody death wish.”

Quickly glancing through the back window, the girls were in time to see a very bedraggled policeman haul himself out of the ditch beside the road and shake his fist at the rapidly departing car. “I wouldn’t stop, if I were you,” Doris tapped the driver on the shoulder.

“Or go drinking anywhere around here for a while, either,” Mary added.

Half turning around again, which seemed to be a habit, he asked with, hopefully, one eye on the road, “Why?”

Unable to keep a smile from her face, Mary told him, as Doris unscrewed the top of the flask and began to pour a welcome brew into the cup. “Because unless I’m much mistaken, that was the local bobby you just ran into a ditch!”

“Good point,” he replied, though both girls noticed his knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel. As his passengers shared the tea, which seemed to actually have sugar in it, the driver advised them, “You may as well sit back and enjoy the ride. It’ll take us about an hour to get back to the hospital.”

“Do you think he’s right?” Mary asked. “Could Jane really have something on this Station Commander?”

“You know,” Doris said, “based on everything that’s happened since I’ve known Jane, I’d say there’s a very good chance our Jane has something on Winston Churchill!”

****

Doris craned her neck as she stood outside the front entrance to Mary’s home, now a busy army hospital. Swiping a hand through her hair, she let out a whistle and was so engrossed Mary had to pull her friend out of the way as a pair of stretcher bearers barreled past her and disappeared inside. She appeared not to notice, instead turning around on the spot before grabbing her friend by the hand. “If my father saw this place, he’d want to buy it off you!”

Mary raised her eyebrows in surprise. Doris rarely talked about her family. About all she knew was they’d had a huge falling out to do with Doris’s first husband. She waited for her American friend to elaborate, but she was left disappointed. “Ha! In his dreams! Now, as for me and Walter, if your lot ever decides to sell, you have to give us first refusal.”

Slightly flummoxed, Mary opened and closed her mouth. This time, Doris had to pull her friend out of the way as another stretcher was taken inside. “But you haven’t seen the inside yet. And it won’t look anything like it used to in its heyday. Hell, I don’t know what the rooms will look like!”

“Hun,” Doris began, squeezing Mary’s hand, “they could be the size of box rooms and I wouldn’t care a fig! It’s beautiful. Come on!” she said, dragging Mary through the entrance. “Hey, will you show me your rooms?” she asked, as they waited at the reception desk.

A little thrown by the excess of exuberance Doris was showing, quite beyond her normal level, which itself was sometimes hard to take, Mary found herself nodding whilst wondering if those attic rooms had been put to use already. As the hospital would probably require all the space it could get its hands on, this was a pretty good bet. Mind you, being the old servant quarters, the ceilings were low and angled, not to mention unheated, apart from those she’d used, which had been specially plumbed into the house’s central heating system for her. The thought put a smile on her face. It would be lovely if her rooms were undisturbed.

Unfortunately, the captain who greeted them at reception couldn’t tell her. “I’ve only been here a week myself,” he apologized. Looking down at his desk, he picked up a piece of paper, studied it carefully, and then looked up at the two ladies before him. One, standing calmly before him, took no notice of the prominent labels upon the walls indicating what had been hung there in its previous guise as a family home. The other caused his eyes to nearly pop out of his head. This one was bouncing up and down on her heels and doing her best to look everywhere at once. “Well, it seems I should be welcoming you home, Miss Whitworth-Baines,” he said, getting to his feet and holding out his hand. “Captain Mark Wood, at your service.”

“Please,” Mary replied, “it’s Third Officer Whitworth-Baines, but call me Mary. Anything else is too much of a mouthful. My over-excited friend—she’s American,” Mary added, receiving a playful pinch in return, “is Doris Howell.”

“Hi, y’all!” Doris played up in her very worst western American accent. “Call me Doris. Yee-ha!”

“You don’t happen to have a psychiatric wing, do you?” Mary asked, leaning down to the now-seated officer, who chuckled and shook his head, obviously taking the joke in good heart.

****

“Anyone else notice how quiet things are when Doris isn’t around?” Betty asked, as she speared a chip.

“Or how you can actually eat all your chips without fending her off?” Penny added.

“And enjoy a leisurely bottle of Guinness without wondering if she’ll drink your second before you’ve finished your first?” Jane said. “Didn’t take me long to spot that.”

“Plus,” Ruth said, “we can keep the bottle of vinegar in the room with us!”

“You do realize,” Walter piped up, “that I’m under orders to report all seditious talk to my fiancée when she gets back?”

Ruth batted her eyes at her friend and lodger. “Now, you wouldn’t turn in your landlady, not to mention your boss, would you?”

“Or your best friends?” Penny said, indicating everyone else with her fork.

Walter immediately laughed. “No, of course not. Though, in all seriousness, she did ask me to tell her any juicy gossip when she gets back.”

Jane laughed. It was a nice sound, which perked everyone up and made them look over at the lady. “In that case, you’re just going to have to tell her what a boring lot we are!”

“I think I can manage that.” Walter smiled back and shoveled more hot battered fish into his mouth.

Silence reigned whilst everyone sat around enjoying the good food and the company.

“It really is quiet without Doris around!” Walter suddenly said, his face a mask of shock which caused everyone to burst out laughing.

“Okay, hands up, who wants to tell Doris he said that?” Penny asked.

Everyone’s hand shot up.

“Perhaps it would be best if we kept quiet about this conversation,” he mumbled, putting his head down and pretending to take great interest in the remains of his dinner before asking Ruth, “Any news on the application to the ARP?”

The way she speared her last chip was all the answer anyone in the room required.

“Still nothing?”

Ruth shook her head. “The only thing I can think is that it’s been such a while since we had any air raids that they may not need any more staff. I think,” she added slowly, “I may have missed my chance.”

“But, and I hope you’ll forgive me, surely that means the authorities are hopeful they’ve got enough people to last until we win this war,” Jane said.

Having this pointed out to her only caused Ruth to let out a deep sigh. Betty reached out and took her friend’s plate from her. She’d finished all her chips, the fish too was gone, and all she was spearing now was the pattern. “I’m quite fond of that plate, so…” Betty gently informed her friend as she took the plate off her friend’s lap.

Ruth now appeared sheepish. “Sorry. It’s only that I’m sure Jane’s right and maybe I’ve missed my chance to do my bit.”

No one knew how to answer or what to say to this, especially as she was very likely right. In fact, when they all heard something being put through the letterbox, everyone except Ruth scrambled to their feet to go and retrieve it. Penny got there first.

When she took longer than was expected to come back, Betty shouted, startling Bobby briefly awake from where he lay in front of the fireplace, “Penny, are you lost?”

As Penny entered the room, everyone looked up, and all movement stopped. Held between her hands as if it might explode was an eerily familiar-looking envelope. She stopped in the doorway and looked around before saying, “I think we’ve got another message.”