by Vicki Beeby
She would if she knew the truth. Jess hesitated. Should she confess? Was there a chance Evie and May would understand?
Evie pulled a comb from her bundle of clothes and started to work it through her tangled hair. ‘Just tell me if I do need to give you a lecture. You know, like the one you gave me when I started to get serious about Alex.’
‘No need to worry about that,’ Jess said with a laugh. Good thing she hadn’t confessed. She’d forgotten her concerned talk with Evie all those years ago, when she’d told Evie sternly to be careful and not let Alex pressure her into anything she wasn’t ready for. Evie’s shocked insistence she would never consider such a thing now came clearly to mind. No. Jess couldn’t risk losing her friends’ regard.
‘Speaking of Alex,’ Jess said, doing her best to deflect the conversation, ‘how are things with the two of you now he’s not on operational flying?’
Evie positively glowed, and not just because her face was in the sunlight. ‘It’s wonderful to have him nearby. In fact—’ she lowered her voice even though there wasn’t another soul in sight ‘—can you two keep a secret?’
As one, Jess and May moved closer.
‘You can trust us,’ Jess said, and May nodded her agreement, her face alight with curiosity.
‘We’ve even talked about getting married.’
‘Seriously?’ Jess couldn’t keep the shock from her voice although when she thought about it, she knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Evie had been with Alex for four years. That was practically a lifetime in these dangerous times. They all knew couples who had married after only a few weeks’ acquaintance. It was just the way things worked when couples didn’t know if they would live to see each other again.
‘Oh, we haven’t made any definite decision yet, but what would you think if we decided to marry?’
‘We’d be so happy for you,’ May said. ‘Wouldn’t we, Jess?’
‘Oh. Yes. That’s right.’ This was more to convince herself than Evie. What was wrong with her?
‘It wouldn’t change anything, you know.’ Evie, bless her, must have sensed Jess’s hesitation and discerned some of the feelings behind it. ‘Alex has his work and I have mine. We won’t see any more of each other than I do now. It’s just—’ Evie winced as her comb struck a stubborn tangle. ‘Now the war is going our way at last, and it seems to be only a matter of time before we win, I want us to be together. For all we know, Alex could be posted overseas in another few months, so now seems like a good time to take the plunge.’
Jess gave Evie her best smile. ‘As long as he makes you happy then you should do it. ’Ow long before we ’ave to call you Section Officer Kincaith?’
‘Oh, goodness, nothing’s definite yet. Promise you won’t breathe a word. I just wanted to see what you thought.’
‘Well, we’re right behind you.’ There were times when Jess was grateful for her experience as an actress. Then she turned wistful. ‘So now you have your future all sorted. Marriage, kids, a little cottage with roses in the garden…’
Evie snorted. ‘There’s no way I’m settling down just yet, and Alex knows it. I’m not leaving the WAAF until after the war, anyway. We do important work.’
‘And after?’
‘I still want to do my maths degree.’
Jess hugged her knees. ‘It must be nice to have an idea what you’ll be doing after the war.’
‘Won’t you go back to acting?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know.’ Jess picked at the grass. She didn’t want to think too hard about her lack of prospects so nudged May with her foot. ‘What about you? Will you be happy being Peter’s wife or do you want a career too?’
A dreamy smile spread over May’s face. ‘I’ll be more than happy being Peter’s wife. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to do anything else, though.’
‘Any ideas what you’ll do?’
‘No. Well, maybe. There is something, only…’ May’s voice trailed off.
Curious, Jess looked at her. May’s face was bright red, and she looked as unsure and uncertain as she had when she had been new to the WAAF. ‘Spit it out, May. Whatever it is can’t be that bad.’ A funny thought struck her. ‘Let me guess, doing the village panto gave you a taste for acting, and now you want to be the British Katharine Hepburn?’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘Then what is this mysterious dream job? No, wait – you want to be a Tiller girl. You’ve got the legs for it.’
‘Idiot.’ May grabbed a clump of grass and flung it at Jess. Most of it landed in Jess’s hair while some slid down her neck.
Jess squealed as she felt a tickling sensation creep towards her shoulder blades. ‘You beast! I think there’s a spider down my back.’
After much giggling on Evie and May’s part and squirming on Jess’s, she managed to rescue a tiny money spider before it could crawl beneath the back of her swimsuit. She blew it off her hand. ‘Don’t think you can distract us from your future plans, May. Own up. You owe me.’
‘Promise you won’t laugh.’ After Evie and Jess assured her they wouldn’t, May took a deep breath. ‘Well, doing the panto didn’t give me a taste for acting, but there was something else.’ May turned her flaming face to the ground. She addressed her next words to an ant that had climbed to the tip of a blade of grass. ‘I really enjoyed the writing. I’ve been writing stories ever since.’
‘But that’s wonderful. Why haven’t you ever shown us?’
‘Oh, they were really bad at first. I used to get so frustrated that I could never make the words match the images in my head. I’m getting better, though, and recently I’ve wondered if I would be able to sell stories to magazines.’
‘You’ll never know until you try,’ Evie said. ‘May, that’s marvellous. I’d love to read something of yours whenever you feel ready to show someone else.’
‘Me too,’ Jess said. ‘I know they’ll be brilliant. All the best bits of the panto were the ones you wrote. You’ve got real talent.’
When May turned her face to look at her friends, Jess could see a suspicion of tears in her eyes. ‘You really think so?’
‘Course we do. We know you’re a star, even if you doubt it.’
‘I thought you would all laugh at me.’
‘Now why on earth would we do that? I’ve read your stuff, remember. I know you’re good.’ Then Jess paused. ‘Wait. So all those nights you would sit up in bed, writing away, you weren’t writing to Peter but writing stories?’
‘Yes. Well, I was writing to Peter too.’
‘So that’s me sorted out being a maths scholar, and May as an internationally renowned author.’ Evie broke off and ducked when May threw another handful of grass in her direction. ‘Sorry, May. I should have said you were going to be an internationally renowned award-winning author. Come on, Jess. You must have some thought for what you want to do after the war. I thought you loved acting.’ Evie had been brushing grass from her legs; now she paused and frowned at Jess.
‘I do. I’ve been out of it for five years, though.’ That was a long time in show business. ‘I’d find it difficult to get work now.’
May spoke up. ‘You were brilliant as Cinderella.’ She was referring to the pantomime Jess had organised during their first Christmas in the WAAF. ‘They’d be mad not to give you work.’
‘You’re a pal, May.’ Jess flashed her a smile. ‘I might give it a go. I’ll have to think about it.’
‘There’s still plenty of time to decide,’ Evie said. ‘I hate to break it to you both, but the war’s not over yet, and who knows how long it will last?’ She pulled her shirt from the bundle of clothes beside her, and her watch tumbled onto the grass. When she picked it up she gave a gasp. ‘Oh my goodness. We need to get a move on if we’re going to get any sleep before dinner.’
As they dressed and then made the return walk through the fields, Jess couldn’t shake off the unsettled feeling brought on by their talk of life after the war. Evie and May seemed to have everything mapp
ed out: the WAAF until the end of the war followed by marriage and work they loved. Although she was happy for them, she wished she had some idea what the future held for her.
* * *
When the girls arrived back at Bentley Manor it was to find the anteroom abuzz with news that quite threw Evie’s bombshell out of Jess’s head.
Gracie Metcalfe, one of the other filterers, dashed up, collaring the three friends before they’d had a chance to put away their gear. ‘Have you heard?’ The young woman’s voice, so controlled in the Filter Room, quavered with excitement. ‘There’s a film crew coming to Bentley Priory. They’re filming a morale-boosting drama about the RAF, and they want to shoot some scenes showing real WAAFs at work.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Jess gripped Gracie’s arm. ‘Which WAAFs?’ Gracie bounced on the spot, looking more like an exuberant schoolgirl than an officer. ‘That’s the best bit. Wait till you hear. They’ve managed to get a cameraman who’s gone through the whole rigmarole of signing the Official Secrets Act, and he’s going to shoot some footage in the Filter Room. And guess who’s on watch when they’re filming?’
Jess froze, not daring to hope. ‘Not—?’
Gracie was already nodding, her eyes huge. ‘A Watch!’
Jess whooped and performed an impromptu jig with Gracie in front of the fireplace.
‘I don’t believe it,’ she said, when they stopped for breath. ‘After all that time I tried and failed to break into films, I’m going to be on one now I’m in the WAAF.’
‘We’ll only be in the background,’ Gracie warned. ‘They’re filming the scenes with the actors in the grounds and we won’t be involved with those.’
‘I don’t care. I can tell my Auntie Vera I made it into a movie at last.’
‘Do we have to be in it?’ This from May. ‘I don’t want to be in a film. It was bad enough doing a village pantomime.’
‘Are you kidding? With your looks, they’ll be wanting you in every shot.’ May’s confidence had improved considerably over the years, but she still found it difficult to accept that people turned to take a second look when she entered a room not because they found her height amusing but because her looks had a beauty and elegance reminiscent of a young Katharine Hepburn.
Gracie wasn’t finished. ‘Anyway, I haven’t got to the good part yet.’
‘There’s more? What?’ Jess found it hard to believe anything could be more exciting.
‘Wait until you hear which actor is playing the lead role.’
‘Who?’
‘Leonard Steele.’
A wave of dizziness struck, forcing Jess to clutch the back of an armchair. Thankfully May’s reaction distracted Gracie from Jess’s shock. ‘Leonard Steele? He’s gorgeous. I loved him in Hearts of the Highlands. What do you think, Jess? What’s your favourite Leonard Steele film?’
May had given her time to recover her composure, and now she was able to speak without her voice betraying her shock. ‘I liked him in The Hellfire Murders best.’ She beamed at Gracie. ‘Such exciting news. Anyway, I must wash off this pond weed before dinner.’
Smiling so broadly her face ached, she fled from the anteroom, her mind in a whirl. Whatever happened, she must take great care not to run into Leonard Steele.
Chapter Six
Jess’s fears subsided when she returned to duty with the rest of A Watch at midnight. There was no way Leonard Steele – or Leo, as she had always known him – would be in the Filter Room at midnight. Even when someone came to film the WAAFs at work, she doubted Leo would be there. Jess couldn’t imagine permission being given for anything other than one cameraman in the Filter Room, and even then, he wouldn’t be allowed to record anything he heard. She expected his scenes would be recorded in the grounds of Bentley Priory, so as long as she kept her wits about her, she should be able to avoid him.
There was a thousand-bomber raid that night, and Jess was grateful for something to keep her busy. The earlier watch had already tracked the bombers as they left their bases along the east coast and now they were on the alert for their return. It was always a tense time, counting back the bombers and praying that none had been lost. They also had to keep an eye on stragglers in case they were in difficulty. Knowing that it had been Milan in one of the ditched aircraft she had been tracking made her all the more aware of the importance of their job. Jess knew there were girls on duty that night who had sweethearts and husbands in bomber crews and they would be painfully aware that their loved ones were probably out there.
It was an exhausting night. Apart from a brief break she was allowed at 0300 hours, when she went to the canteen on the third floor at Hill House for a restorative cup of tea, she was needed on duty to filter the tracks.
When they were finally relieved the next morning, Jess emerged into the sunlight and walked through the gardens, her feet dragging with exhaustion. She didn’t know how she was going to manage to stay awake through the day, but she knew from experience that she would find it impossible to sleep through the night unless she managed to hold out.
‘Coming to the mess for breakfast?’ May caught her up, yawning. Evie was not far behind. ‘We thought we’d go to the Spring Ponds for a dip later.’
Jess flopped onto a bench and stretched out her stiff arms. ‘I’ll catch you up,’ she said. ‘I’ll sit here for a bit and let the sun warm my neck. I ache all over.’ It was an occupational hazard of spending a long watch leaning over the table at awkward angles.
She watched May and Evie stroll through the grounds then she shifted so the sun was on her back. Closing her eyes, she rotated her shoulders and tilted her head from side to side to ease the muscles.
‘Well, well, well. Jess Halloway, as I live and breathe. Looking more delectable than ever in uniform.’
She would recognise that cultured accent anywhere. It had set women swooning from London to Los Angeles and from Aberdeen to Adelaide. The dread that had eased during the long hours of the night watch now returned with a sickening lurch. She opened her eyes and gazed up at the young man towering over her. An impossibly handsome man with thick, wavy brown hair, a pencil moustache and soulful brown eyes. Looks that had earned him the title of the next Errol Flynn. As a naive seventeen-year-old she hadn’t stood a chance. It was six years since Jess had last seen him; age had, if anything, improved his looks. As did the RAF uniform with the band on the sleeve proclaiming him to hold the rank of Flying Officer. No wings, though, so Milan beat him there.
She rose, ignoring her aching muscles and exhaustion. Shoulders back, chin up and sparkle. ‘Leo,’ she said. ‘How nice to see you again.’ She fixed a smile on her face, praying it hid her dread. Whatever happened, Leo must never discover he was the father of her child.
* * *
‘When did we last see each other?’ Leo ran a finger along the line of his moustache. ‘I suppose it must have been at the end of All Manor of Murder.’ He named the play that should have been Jess’s big break.
She gave Leo her brightest smile. If he was going to ignore the fact that she had run away without even saying goodbye, she wasn’t going to remind him. ‘About then, I suppose,’ she said, as though it wasn’t a date that loomed large in her memory, forever to be associated with her failure and shame. It had broken her heart to run away from her first love. The only thing that had strengthened her resolve was the certainty that it was the right thing to do. While she had been naive, she hadn’t been so naive as to imagine he was in love with her, and she couldn’t take the chance of telling him now about Hannah in case he tried to take her away from Vera and Jack.
She made a gesture that took in his uniform. ‘I didn’t know you’d joined the RAF.’
‘Thought I’d better sign up and do my bit, you know. Joined the RAF Film Production Unit.’ This was a unit attached to the RAF that produced propaganda films. ‘When the film studio contacted the RAF for permission to set some of the scenes here, they insisted the studio recruit actors and crew who were serving members, so he
re I am.’
‘Here you are,’ Jess echoed, fighting to keep the bitterness from her voice. ‘Well, it was lovely to meet you again but I have duties to attend to.’
‘Of course. I’m surprised to see you in the WAAF. I’d have thought you would join ENSA.’
She had considered the Entertainments National Service Association, of course, but at the time the entertainment business had held too many painful associations. ‘I wanted to try something different.’
‘What – operating a filing cabinet?’
‘As it happens, I—’ Jess bit off the words, remembering her signature on the Official Secrets Act just in time. ‘Well, my work may be clerical, but it has to be done.’
‘Of course. Then I won’t keep you, but it would be good to catch up. Over dinner tonight?’
‘I’m busy. Got a date.’
‘You can’t break it for the sake of an old friend?’
The only way she could get through this was by channelling righteous indignation. ‘I’m not breaking a date with a pilot who risks his life daily and whose time isn’t his own.’
Leo flinched and Jess could have kicked herself. He had clearly inferred that she thought less of him for taking a non-combatant role, and she hadn’t meant that at all.
She rose. Somehow she couldn’t summon the cheery, flirty Jess who usually saw her through awkward encounters; it seemed best to end the meeting before she said anything else he might take as an insult. ‘Well, I must dash before I miss breakfast. Lovely to see you again.’
She walked away on trembling legs without waiting for his reply.
Why did he have to turn up when she was exhausted and unprepared? If only she had gone with Evie and May, she would have missed him, had time to work out how to act when their paths crossed.
A group of chattering aircraftwomen approached, slowing when they drew level and saluted her. Jess returned the salute, praying she had composed her features enough not to reveal the jumble of emotions and memories assailing her. Uppermost was her sense of shame and failure as she had slammed the door on the train that was to take her away from London and her life in the theatre. When the carriage door had crashed closed with brutal finality, she had finally given way to the tears she had held back during the painful weeks when she had tried to deny what the changes in her body were telling her.
