The Girls in Blue (36 page)

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Authors: Lily Baxter

BOOK: The Girls in Blue
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‘Don’t go. Stay and talk to me if you can put up with a self-pitying idiot who ought to know better.’

She raised his hand to her cheek. ‘I do care about you, Gil. I’m really sorry you thought I’d abandoned you.’

‘You’re here now and that’s all that matters, but I’ll have a few words to say to my mother when I next see her.’

‘Don’t fall out with her on my account. I’m sure she thought she was doing her best for you, and it’s Fliss we have to thank for bringing me here today.’ Miranda glanced over her shoulder to where Felicity was sitting on a bench chatting to a man in army uniform. ‘She’s a great girl. I’m so glad we’re friends again.’

Gil followed her gaze and smiled. ‘She needs to watch out for old Forbes. He’s quite a ladies’ man.’

‘I was told much the same thing about you,’ Miranda said, chuckling. ‘It almost ruined our friendship.’

‘We are friends, aren’t we, Miranda?’

‘Of course, and I’m going to visit you at every possible opportunity until they discharge you from hospital.’

‘That would be wonderful, but where are you stationed now?’

‘Warmwell in Dorset. I start tomorrow.’

‘I’ll be happier to know that you’re not so far away.’

‘And I feel much better now I’ve seen you again.’ She forced her lips into a smile. ‘Who knows? This time next year you might be back in the air, kissing the clouds as you used to say.’

‘Maybe, but I doubt it.’

‘You mustn’t say things like that. You’ve got to concentrate on getting better, Gil. You asked me out that last evening in the pub, if you remember.’

‘Of course I do.’

‘And I’m holding you to it. You won’t get out of buying me dinner so easily.’

He glanced down at the plaster casts on both legs, pulling a face. ‘I doubt if I’ll ever be asking you to dance.’

‘That’s defeatist talk, but I won’t let you give up. I can be a very stubborn person when I set my mind to it.’

He was about to answer when a nurse came bustling across the grass. ‘Flight Lieutenant Maddern, it’s time for your physiotherapy.’

Miranda could see that he was about to argue and she laid her hand on his shoulder. ‘I should be going anyway, Gil. I’ve got a train to catch.’

‘It’s too soon. You’ve only just got here.’

The nurse shook her head. ‘Visiting time is over. We have to keep to our routine or we won’t get better, will we?’

‘Can’t we bend the rules just this once, Nurse
Brown?’
Gil gave her his most charming smile.

She shook her head. ‘You won’t get round me that way.’

‘I’ll come again as soon as I get a day off,’ Miranda said hastily. ‘I won’t have too far to travel now.’

Gil patted her hand as it rested on his shoulder. ‘All right, I’ll go to physio and do my exercises like a good boy. I’ve got even more incentive to beat this thing now.’

Nurse Brown took charge of his wheelchair. ‘That’s the spirit.’

Gil turned his head and waved as he was wheeled away. ‘Keep on writing to me, darling.’

The term of endearment had slipped off his tongue so easily that Miranda wondered if she had imagined it. She stood for a few moments, watching until he was out of sight. Her feelings for Gil had always balanced on a knife edge. From the start there had been an undeniable tug of attraction to the wild boy of the squadron, but that had changed subtly when she had begun to know him better, although now she was uncertain whether it was love or pity she felt for him. She knew that she must not confuse the two emotions, but it was not going to be easy. She walked slowly towards Felicity who was still deep in conversation with the young army officer, whose injuries at first appeared to be superficial, but as Miranda drew closer she could see an empty sleeve pinned to his chest, and one side of his face was badly scarred.

‘Are you ready to leave, Fliss?’ she asked, glancing at her watch. ‘I’d be in time to catch the four o’clock train if we left now.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Felicity rose to her feet. ‘Goodbye, Captain Forbes. It was so nice meeting you.’

He stood up, bowing gallantly over her hand. ‘Goodbye, Miss Maddern. Perhaps we’ll have the opportunity to chat when you next visit your brother.’

‘I’d like that.’

Miranda gave him a vague smile as she walked away, but her thoughts were with Gil and the long road he would have to travel to make a full recovery. Felicity fell into step beside her. ‘War is absolutely beastly,’ she said when they were out of earshot. ‘These poor men make you want to cry.’

‘Yes,’ Miranda said, thinking of Gil. ‘It’s awful to see such brave chaps struck down in their prime.’

‘Well, I’m going to do something about it. I’ll be twenty-one next month and Mummy won’t have a say in it. I want to do something more than just being an ARP warden, and so I’ve decided that I’m going to train as a nurse. I’ll be doing something really useful then.’

‘Good for you, Fliss. I think you’ll make a jolly good nurse.’

‘And you’ll keep on seeing Gil, won’t you? Mummy will do her best to keep you apart, but you won’t let him down, I know it.’

‘Of course not,’ Miranda said firmly. ‘I won’t be far away and I’ll visit him as often as possible.’

‘You do love him, don’t you, Miranda?’

Her naïve belief in romance and her absolute trust went straight to Miranda’s heart. Looking into Felicity’s eyes she could not have lied if she had wanted to, but she had to be absolutely honest. ‘I care very deeply for him, Fliss. I don’t know if that’s love.’

‘I hope so for both your sakes. I mean, I’m sure that Gil will make a full recovery. He’s very determined when he makes up his mind to something, and now he knows that you’re back in the picture I’m certain he’ll make an even bigger effort.’

‘I’ll do my best to help him. That’s a promise.’

Feeling like a new girl at school, Miranda was even more nervous on her first day at Warmwell than she had been at Henlow. Arriving in style in her grandfather’s Bentley with Jack at her side, Miranda was pounced upon by her new section leader who bristled with efficiency and was totally lacking in a sense of humour. She dismissed Miranda’s experience in the plotting room with a curt laugh. ‘You’ll have to get yourself transferred to Filton if you want to join the la-di-dah girlies in the ops room,’ she said, curling her lip. ‘You’ll be given clerical duties, Beddoes, starting right away. Think yourself lucky that you haven’t been sent to the repair shops maintaining bicycles, or to wait on tables in the
mess
.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘But that could all change, so you’d better show me what you can do.’

Miranda spent the rest of the morning doing menial jobs in the office, but at midday Rita burst into the room and greeted her with a cheery smile. ‘I won’t hug you, love,’ she said, holding out her arms to demonstrate her oil-streaked and mud-strained overalls. ‘I’ve come to take you to the mess for din-dins.’ She angled her head, frowning. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ Miranda said, hoping she sounded more cheerful than she was feeling. ‘I expect I’m just hungry.’

‘Well that’s easily settled. Let’s go.’ She opened the door. ‘The good news is that you’re billeted in the castle with me and the girls.’

‘That sounds lovely.’

Miranda’s first impression of the castle, as the girls jokingly called the near derelict farmhouse, was one of shock and then amusement followed by disbelief. ‘You’re pulling my leg,’ she said as she propped her bicycle against a rickety wooden fence. ‘This place is a ruin.’ She stared in horror at the thatched roof which was bald in places with clumps of moss in great green patches. The chimney stack looked as though it might collapse at any moment, and panes of glass were missing from the upstairs windows.

Rita wheeled her bike through the muddy yard and leaned it against the cob wall. ‘It’s not
Buckingham
Palace that’s for certain, but we’ve done a good job inside.’ She unlocked the front door and heaved it with her shoulder so that it juddered, creaked and lurched open. ‘Come in and see.’

Miranda followed her inside and stood blinking as her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. There were two small lattice windows on either side of the door and another at the far side of the room. The ground floor seemed to consist of one large open area with blackened oak beams supporting a low ceiling, and an ancient cast-iron range taking up most of one wall. She could feel the chill rising from the flagstone floor and a draught wafted down a wooden flight of steps that led to the upper storey. The only furniture was a pine dresser, a large deal table and several ill-assorted kitchen chairs, but Miranda noticed that someone had made patchwork cushions for the seats in an attempt to make the place a little more homely, and there was a jam jar filled with primroses in the middle of the table.

‘Home sweet hovel,’ Rita said proudly. ‘It’s nice and cosy when we get the fire going at night. Come upstairs and I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.’ She headed towards the stairs. ‘Mind your head on the beam at the top, and watch out for the top step, it’s a bit worn.’

Miranda followed her up the crudely made staircase to the upper floor, which again seemed to consist of one large room. Four camp beds were set beneath the sloping ceiling and Miranda was
disturbed
to see daylight filtering through gaps in the thatch. She could hear scrabbling sounds in the rafters, which was even more worrying. ‘What’s living up there? I hope it isn’t rats.’

‘Dunno,’ Rita said airily. ‘I haven’t seen any livestock, and if they don’t bother me, I won’t bother them.’ She shot Miranda a mischievous look. ‘Don’t worry, ducks. It could be bats or mice.’ She pointed to a camp bed on the far side of the room. ‘That’s yours, and I’m in the one opposite. You’ll meet the other girls tonight at supper. It’s my turn to cook so it’s pot luck, but it’ll probably be Spam fritters because that’s my entire repertoire. I’m probably about as good a cook as Mrs B, or even slightly worse.’

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Miranda said drily. She laid her suitcase on the bed. ‘Where’s the bathroom?’

Rita shook her head. ‘I was waiting for you to ask that. The lav is outside and we take turns on latrine duty.’

‘And the ablutions?’

‘My God you are spoilt,’ Rita said, chuckling. ‘We’ve got a tin bath we fill with hot water once a week and take it in turns. The water comes from a pump in the yard, so if you want a wash you either do it outside or if it’s cold and rainy fetch a bucketful and wash in the kitchen. You’ll soon get used to it.’

‘I’m sure I will,’ Miranda said, doubtfully. ‘Is there any chance of using the ablutions at the camp?’

‘It’s not worth the bother. Trust me, I’ve tried
every
trick in the book. Come downstairs and I’ll show you where the lav is, although don’t expect much and you won’t be disappointed.’

That evening Miranda met her new roommates, Vivienne and Joan. Vivienne waited on tables in the mess and helped in the cookhouse and Joan worked in the bicycle repair shed with Rita. They sat round the table eating Rita’s Spam fritters with baked potatoes, followed by a generous helping of plum duff that Joan said was surplus to needs in the officers’ mess.

‘As it’s your first night we’ll do the washing up,’ Vivienne said magnanimously. ‘But tomorrow you’re on kitchen duties, new girl.’

‘And it’s bath night tomorrow,’ Joan added, grinning. ‘It’ll be your turn to fetch the water and fill the tub.’

‘Fine by me,’ Miranda said, refusing to be drawn into an argument on her first evening. She could sense that she was being tested, but she had learned to stand up for herself at Henlow.

‘Go easy on her,’ Rita said, frowning. ‘This is my best mate, Miranda. She’s one of us.’

‘Keep your hair on, old girl,’ Vivienne said, taking a packet of Gold Flake cigarettes from her handbag and offering them round. ‘Smoke, anyone?’

Joan took one but Rita shook her head. ‘Trying to give up, love.’

‘What about you, Miranda?’

‘No, thanks, Vivienne. I gave up some time ago.’ Miranda pushed back her chair and stood up. The heat from the range was intense and the fumes from the paraffin lamp were making her feel slightly queasy as they mingled with the smell of hot fat and cigarette smoke. ‘I think I’ll get a breath of air, if you don’t mind, girls.’

Rita smiled and nodded. ‘That’s right. Get your bearings. It’ll all seem a bit strange at first but you’ll get used to the old place. It’s not too bad unless it’s raining and then it’s hell.’

Miranda went outside, taking deep breaths of cool evening air. The lengthening shadows softened the harsh outlines of the disused and crumbling outhouses, making them look hazy and romantic. The bustling life of the aerodrome seemed like another world, and in this idyllic landscape the only wings in the sky were those of birds coming home to roost for the night. It was a scene of peace and tranquillity but suddenly the silence was broken by the crunch of bicycle tyres on the rough road surface and Raif pedalled into the yard. He dismounted and left the bike at the gate. ‘Jack told me where to find you,’ he said before she had a chance to speak.

‘I’m so sorry about Izzie,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

He took both her hands in his, looking deeply into her eyes before dropping his gaze. ‘I know. I can’t believe that I’m still here and she’s gone forever.’

‘I couldn’t get home for the funeral, Raif.’

‘It was very quiet. Your grandparents were there and Jack, of course, but apart from that there was just Father and me. My mother couldn’t get back from America and it’s probably just as well. It was awful seeing Izzie’s coffin and knowing that I’d been so against her marrying Jack. Then there was all that business with my father and your grandparents, and I ask myself what was it all about? In the grand scheme of things nothing matters when you’re faced with the death of someone you love; two people if you count Izzie’s baby. The whole thing was desperately sad and I’m glad you didn’t have to go through it. I know you loved Izzie and she loved you.’

Miranda slid her arms around his neck and they stood motionless in the twilight for a long moment until they moved apart. Miranda rested her hands on his shoulders. ‘Is there anything I can do, Raif?’

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