Victory for the Ops Room Girls

by Vicki Beeby

  What would her life be like had she not given in to Leo and fallen pregnant? Would she now be a famous actress? Of course, such thoughts led to more guilt and shame, because she loved Hannah and couldn’t imagine life without her in it.

  Anyway, she was now doing valued work that saved lives. Work that had led her to the best friends she had ever had. She wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

  Nevertheless, Leo’s appearance brought back other memories: the smell of greasepaint; the flutter in the pit of her stomach as she waited in the wings for her cue; bowing to an applauding audience, knowing she had helped transport them far away from the worries of their daily lives for an hour or two. She had turned her back on all that when she had left London to have Hannah in secret. While she knew she had made the right decision, she couldn’t help a tinge of regret over all she had lost. On impulse, she crossed the road and walked up Little Common, still too heartsore to face her friends. Usually she loved to look at the cottages lining the lane when she walked this way, enjoying the feel of being out in the countryside instead of a London suburb. However, this time her head was too full to pay much attention to her surroundings.

  She shouldn’t have insulted Leo. Although he might not be a high-ranking officer, he would have influence. He could make trouble for her. What should she do? Go back and apologise? Or was there a danger she might mention Hannah?

  Only when she reached the first pool did her thoughts begin to calm. She strolled around the bank, letting the gentle sigh of the trees ease her mind. There was something about the tranquillity of this place that never failed to work its magic on her. Finally she sat on the bank and gazed across the water, admiring the reflection of the dark green leaves against the clear blue sky.

  No good could come of seeking out Leo now, she realised. She was too tired. Tired and somewhat emotional after a long watch where thirty bombers had failed to return. That was thirty bomber crews who were now either prisoners or dead. If she sought out Leo now, she would be unable to hold her emotion in check, and who knew what she might blurt out? She couldn’t risk him finding out about Hannah; there was no predicting how he would react to finding out he had a daughter.

  No. She would, no doubt, run into him again now he was filming here. When she did, she would apologise for her hasty words and be civil to him. Do nothing to arouse his suspicion. After all, he couldn’t have seriously wanted a date with her. Important men like Leonard Steele didn’t waste time pursuing women who had run away from them years before. He would be gone soon enough, and she could try to forget her failure and shame.

  * * *

  Her meeting with Leo clouded what would otherwise have been a perfect day. Her stomach had been in knots, meaning she had been unable to force down much breakfast. However, the walk with Evie and May to the Spring Ponds in the late summer sunshine had gone a long way to ease her fears. As they lay on the banks after a swim, letting the sunshine and the sighing of the leaves soothe away the stresses of the night, Jess ran over the meeting in her mind for what must have been the thousandth time.

  ‘Is everything all right, Jess?’ Evie was propped on one elbow, eyeing her with concern.

  ‘I’m right as rain. Why?’

  ‘You look a little jumpy.’

  Too right she was jumpy. Evie would be jumpy too if she worried that a former lover might suddenly stroll out from behind a tree and, with a few well-chosen words, turn her life upside down. While part of her wondered if she was doing Evie an injustice – if she would understand and be forgiving of the mistakes Jess had made in the past – she simply couldn’t risk it. Evie and May were the best friends she had ever had and she didn’t want to lose them. Evie came from a respectable family. Jess knew she would be shocked to learn Jess had had a child out of wedlock. Of course, May must have seen the seamier side of life, growing up with a father who had involvement with criminal gangs in Birmingham. Yet Jess didn’t want to put her in a position where she shared a close secret with one of her friends and not with the other.

  She opened her mouth to make some excuse or other about finding it hard to unwind after a fraught watch. Before she could say anything, May spoke up. ‘I think Jess is just eager to get to her date with Milan this afternoon.’

  Jess seized on this excuse. ‘Hardly a date. Milan asked if I’d like to take a walk with him this afternoon and I said yes.’ If she made a show of being put out by being teased about Milan, she knew her friends would try and make her talk about Milan. She’d far rather talk about him than confess what had upset her that morning.

  Evie took the bait. She gave a dramatic sigh and said, ‘How romantic. Just you and Milan walking hand in hand through the fields. No. Doesn’t sound like a date at all.’

  ‘In my view,’ Jess said, ‘it’s not a proper date unless it involves dinner and dancing.’

  ‘If you take that definition, I’ve hardly had any dates with Alex,’ Evie said.

  ‘Nor me,’ May added.

  Jess snorted. ‘I should hope not. Peter would have something to say if he discovered you’d been going out with Alex.’

  And so the morning passed in teasing and laughter.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite Jess having firmly stuck to her opinion that a walk couldn’t constitute a date, she had to admit to a thrill of anticipation as she brushed her hair and fixed her makeup after lunch. When she arrived at the agreed meeting spot at the corner of Warren Lane, Milan was already there, attracting appreciative looks from a couple of WAAFs she knew from the Filter Room. They saluted him, and Jess could have sworn she saw one of the airwomen wink at him. Jess didn’t waste any time in marching up to Milan, forcing the giggling girls to salute, and linking arms with him.

  ‘I’m not late, am I?’ she asked. The WAAFs cast her envious glances then drifted away.

  ‘I was early.’ As ever, his soft accent made her pulse quicken. And that was before he treated her to a crooked smile that sent a thrill from the nape of her neck to the tips of her toes. ‘I wanted the pleasure of watching you walk.’

  It was a good thing she was already holding his arm or her knees might have given way. She couldn’t even think of a snappy riposte, which was unheard of for her. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’ It was such a corny line it made her cringe.

  ‘No. Just you.’

  It took a moment for Jess to recover from the impact of the words spoken in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Then you’re lucky you’ve got me all to yourself today.’ She gave his arm a tug to pull him towards the footpath. ‘Shall we go?’

  Milan didn’t budge. ‘One moment. In Czechoslovakia it is the custom to kiss when we meet.’

  ‘I’ve never known you be a stickler for custom.’

  ‘Perhaps that is where I go wrong.’

  She shrugged, trying not to appear too keen. ‘Far be it for me to go against tradition.’ It occurred to her that she should assure him he had never done anything wrong. However, before she could insist that the fault had all been on her side, he stooped and kissed her on both cheeks. For a brief moment her senses swam at the soft brush of his lips against her skin and the faint scent of lemon soap and tobacco. Then he stepped back, looking smug, and held out his arm. ‘Now we go.’

  Jess, two burning spots on her cheeks where his mouth had touched her, tucked her arm back through his. ‘There’s a custom I could get used to,’ she said, when she could speak. Ridiculous how a simple kiss on the cheek should scatter her wits to the four winds. She really needed to get a grip.

  They struck out across one of the many paths that criss-crossed the common. Soon they were out of earshot of the noise of Stanmore, and the only sounds were the breeze stirring the leaves and the twitter of birdsong. The path they had selected was lined with trees and brambles, and it felt as though they were walking right out in the country instead of an area of London. It was so reminiscent of the walks they had used to take at Amberton, Jess half expected to hear the throaty roar of Hurricanes flying overhead. She
said as much to Milan, and soon they were chatting easily about the friends they had both known. The years fell away, and Jess moved closer, walking pressed against his side as she had always done at Amberton.

  ‘Here’s another custom I used to enjoy.’ Milan pulled them to a halt beside a tangle of blackberry bushes. The brambles were heavy with the shiny dark purple berries. Milan picked a few and offered them to Jess. She tasted one gingerly, expecting it to be tart, but it burst on her tongue in an explosion of sweetness.

  ‘This reminds me of blackberry picking with my Auntie Vera,’ she said, picking more berries until her fingers were stained purple with the juice.

  Milan’s brow furrowed. ‘I remind you of your Auntie Vera? That is not a good thing to hear on a date.’

  Jess gave him a little shove. ‘Go on. You’re just fishing for compliments.’ She reached for a cluster of blackberries that hung on a branch just out of reach. ‘Anyway, it’s no bad thing to remind me of Auntie Vera. She’s the strongest person I know. The kindest, too, but she’d face down a herd of stampeding buffalo if they threatened someone she loved.’

  ‘Ah, a lioness. She sounds like my sister.’ Milan leaned past Jess to grasp the bramble she was trying to reach. He pulled it closer to Jess so she could pick the berries, steadying himself with an arm around her shoulders. Jess felt an overpowering wave of longing, making her quite light-headed. She had to force herself to pick the blackberries instead of lean back and breathe in his warm citrusy scent. She loved the sensation of being enfolded in his arms. A bramble thicket on Stanmore Common was a far cry from the Midsummer dance at Amberton, but she could almost hear the band playing, feel his strong arms around her as he guided her around the dance floor.

  Then all the reasons why she had broken off their relationship punched her in the gut. Nothing had changed. She would never not be Hannah’s mother. She would never be able to undo the mistakes she had made. She was damaged goods. That was what she had always heard people muttering darkly about women in the same situation as her. No man would want to be with her when they learnt the truth, yet if she stayed with Milan she would have to confess.

  ‘Tell me about your sister. What is her name?’ she asked, moving aside so he would have to release the bramble and remove the arm he’d slung around her shoulders. She missed the warmth of his body the moment they moved apart.

  ‘She is called Eliška.’

  ‘Elishka,’ Jess repeated, trying out the unfamiliar sounds almost absently while her thoughts were occupied trying to work out why it seemed so wrong to conceal her past from Milan. ‘What a lovely name. Is she older or younger than you?’

  ‘Older. By half an hour.’

  It took Jess a moment to work it out. ‘Oh, you’re twins.’ She tried and failed to imagine a woman with Milan’s features. ‘I’ve heard twins can sense things from each other, even when they are far apart. Does that happen with you?’

  ‘No. I wish it did. Then I would know if she was well.’

  Jess wished she hadn’t asked. It had been natural curiosity but she’d completely forgotten what Milan had told her the other day about not knowing if his sister and nephew were still alive. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, putting a hand on his arm. ‘It must be awful not knowing. I can’t imagine how that feels.’

  Milan gave a smile that looked forced. ‘They say the Allies are heading for Berlin, that the Germans cannot hold out for much longer. Soon I will be able to go back and find them.’

  It seemed as though everyone was thinking about what they would do after the war. ‘You will definitely return to Czechoslovakia after the war, then?’

  ‘I must find Eliška and Franta, my nephew. I could not live with myself not knowing. But—’ He gave her an odd look and hesitated as though considering whether to say something else. Then he gave a dismissive wave. ‘Who knows what will happen next.’

  ‘I hope they are all right.’ Jess shivered. Reports were already filtering through from the liberated areas of France, about what life had been like under the Nazis. Czechoslovakia had been occupied for longer than France and who knew how long it would be before it was freed? She remembered hearing about the horrific reprisals carried out upon the Czechs after the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich. She had been out of touch with Milan and his compatriots by then but she had been haunted by how it must have felt for them to learn of the mass killings. She tried to imagine her reaction if everyone in Poplar had been massacred and found it impossible to envisage.

  Not long after they decided that they had eaten their fill of blackberries and should leave some to the blackbird that had perched on a nearby spray, eyeing them with sideways jerks of the head.

  ‘I must leave soon,’ Milan said with a glance at his watch. Jess nodded and they walked back along the path while Milan told her more about his life in Prague and his dreams of finishing his studies. ‘Although whether they will want me back when I have not picked up a violin in over five years, I do not know,’ he finished.

  ‘The same with me and acting,’ Jess said. ‘It’s going to be strange returning to civilian life.’ They were at the entrance to Stanmore Underground station by this time, where they were to part ways. However, Jess didn’t release Milan’s arm, reluctant to say goodbye.

  ‘You know,’ she said, when Milan made no attempt to move either, ‘It’s a British custom to kiss when we say goodbye.’

  ‘Then we must,’ Milan said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘It would be bad luck to break tradition.’ He moved closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘Although I wish we did not have to say goodbye just yet.’ His voice was pitched low and sent shivers down her spine.

  She raised herself on tiptoe to meet him halfway. For one heart-pounding moment she thought he was going to kiss her on the lips. Then a group of young women dashed out of the station, jostling Jess and Milan as they ran past.

  The moment spoiled, Jess kissed Milan on the cheek. ‘Well, goodbye,’ she said.

  She made to turn away, but Milan gripped her hand. ‘We will do this again? Today has been like… oáza. Oasis,’ he corrected.

  ‘I’d like that.’

  The smile he gave her in reply kindled a glow that continued to warm her even after she had watched him disappear into the station.

  Her head full of the date – it had definitely been a date even if it didn’t meet her usual definition – she didn’t want to return straight away to the mess. There was still plenty of time before dinner, and she didn’t want to face Evie and May’s questions until she’d worked some things out in her mind.

  She wanted to see him again. Of that she was sure. She couldn’t think of any date she’d enjoyed as much as her walk with Milan. She had been wined and dined by officers from all the various postings where she had worked since leaving Amberton; some of the officers had gone to great lengths to impress, finding restaurants that still managed to produce a varied menu despite rationing, even presenting her with luxury gifts such as nylons and scented soaps that were so hard to find these days. Even so, none of those dates could match today. A warm glow enveloped her as she relived every second of the walk.

  She wandered, aimlessly at first, past shops and houses. Then it occurred to her that she could buy gifts for Auntie Vera and Hannah. She could never do enough to show her gratitude to Vera for being there when Jess had gone to her aunt in a distraught state when she had realised she was pregnant. Vera had arranged everything, and after discussion with her husband they had agreed to take Hannah as their own much-longed-for child. It had involved an elaborate deception, with Jess being sent away to a rented house in Suffolk before she started to show, and Vera announcing her pregnancy before joining Jess in Suffolk ‘for the sake of her health’. Whether any of their neighbours had guessed the truth, Jess didn’t know, but no one had said anything in her hearing.

  Hannah had been born in January 1939. Giving her to Vera had been heartbreaking but Jess had known it was for the best. She had tried to pick up more acting
jobs once she was fully recovered, but her heart hadn’t been in it. When war had broken out, after much discussion with Vera, they had decided the best thing for her was to join the forces. Not a day had gone by since then that she didn’t miss Hannah, but she knew it was best for everyone if she got her life in order. It was a comfort to know that Hannah couldn’t hope for a better mother than Vera.

  She found some pretty hair ribbons and a book of fairy tales for Hannah. It was while she was gazing into the window of Stoneleigh and Swift Antiques, wondering if Vera would like a pretty bone china teacup and saucer, painted with pink rosebuds, that she saw it. Propped on the back shelf, half hidden behind a mahogany lap desk, was a violin in its own case. At once she thought of Milan and his lost violin.

  She couldn’t really explain it to herself but stepping out with Milan was more like spending time with a friend – it wasn’t all about being given gifts and the glamour of being seen on the arm of a handsome pilot. Somehow with Milan she wanted him to be happy. If he had his heart set on being a concert violinist, she wanted to help him achieve his dream.

  There was no price visible, though. That couldn’t be a good sign. She pushed open the door, the shrill jangle of the bell making her jump. A middle-aged woman wearing a floral dress and cerise cardigan walked through the door at the rear of the shop. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, please. I’d like to see the rosebud teacup and saucer that’s in the window, thank you.’

  The assistant got the cup and saucer down for Jess to inspect. One of the rosebuds on the saucer was a little scratched, which was probably why the price was so affordable. Jess, certain Vera would like it, said she would take it. The woman went behind the counter and pulled out sheets of newspaper to wrap the cup and saucer in. Jess summoned her courage and said, ‘I couldn’t help noticing the violin in the window.’