by Katie Flynn
Tilly’s eyes rounded. ‘Beggary? How dare—’
A flushing noise from one of the cubicles interrupted Tilly mid-sentence. Evie’s cheeks turned scarlet as the cubicle door swung open and one of the cooks from the canteen emerged. She glanced briefly at the two girls as she washed her hands, but no one said anything until the cook disappeared through the door of the ablutions.
Evie spluttered an apology as Tilly checked the rest of the cubicles. ‘I’m so sorry, Tilly, I don’t know why I said it, I didn’t mean it, honest to God I didn’t. I know you’re not a beggar, nothing like, so please say you’ll accept my apology, I was just angry.’
Striding towards the door of the ablutions, Tilly spoke through pursed lips. ‘I have lost countless friends by sticking up for you, Evie Maddox, not to mention the lies I’ve told to cover your back. I’ve put up with all your snide comments towards the good people of Liverpool and ignored the mean remarks you make to me, but this is the last straw. Any more tricks like the last one and our friendship is over, and this time I mean it.’
Evie made a sweeping motion with her finger across her chest. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die … I swear I won’t cause any more trouble.’
Tilly, looking unconvinced, snubbed Evie’s attempt to link arms. ‘Time will tell.’
Heading across the yard, Evie allowed herself a half-smile. She knew Tilly would forgive her; she always did. She glanced towards the barracks where she supposed Ellie would be sitting on her bed, an idiotic grin on her face as she stroked the foul-smelling feline. Quickly, she conjured up a more pleasing image of the other girl, her face a picture of misery as Evie announced the date of her wedding. She grinned gleefully. It would serve her right. After all, it was all her fault that Evie and Tilly had been rowing in the first place. How could anyone think Ellie fit to marry an officer? The whole thing was ridiculous. If anything Evie was saving Ellie’s face by denying her the opportunity to make a fool of herself. She nodded approvingly. Ellie wouldn’t know how to behave at social events; she would probably turn up in a tattered old dress, her curly hair sticking out like a bush, and as for that dreadful accent! It was preposterous to even try to imagine the two of them together. Evie shook her head. Tilly might criticise me for my actions, but it’s only because she’s never known anything different. Once a Scouser, always a Scouser, and I appreciate that she doesn’t know any better, but it’s different for me. I want more, and if Tilly had half a brain she would too.
‘Married?’ Ellie said disbelievingly. ‘Who on earth told you that?’
Gwen held out a hand and began ticking the list off on her fingers. ‘Mildred who does the orders for the canteen heard it off Bert who brings the supplies, who heard it off Jonesy who heard it off Penny the cook what done the mashed spuds yesterday.’
‘But that’s ridiculous. They’ve only been out a couple of times—’
Gwen interrupted. ‘That’s not all. Accordin’ to what Penny heard – she were in the lavvy whilst the row were goin’ on – Tilly were accusin’ Evie of doin’ summat to someone so that she could have Aidan all to herself …’
‘Me!’ Ellie squeaked. ‘You thought she’d done summat to my drink at the time, didn’t you? Evil bloomin’ cow.’
‘That’s not all,’ Gwen continued. ‘Tilly said their section’s bein’ moved across the country because Evie had threatened to hurt Baggy, and that’s how the argument started.’
Ellie brightened. ‘Thank goodness for that. I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see her go—’ Seeing the look of concern on Gwen’s face, she stopped short.
‘She said summat about how their relationship will be even better now that she’s movin’ closer to him.’
Ellie’s shoulders sagged. ‘You mean I’ve actually driven her into his arms?’
Gwen wagged a reproving finger. ‘We’ve been through this, and we both agreed you’re not ready for that sort of relationship.’
‘I didn’t mean it!’ Ellie groaned. ‘That’s what everyone says when they know they can’t have what they want.’
Gwen put a comforting arm round Ellie’s shoulders. ‘There’s no point worryin’ over spilt milk. What’s done is done.’
‘When are they off?’
‘A couple of days.’ She paused. ‘The boys left nearly two months ago. Evie said she worried their relationship might not have lasted long distance, so for all we know things might have started to fizzle out already.’
Ellie shrugged. ‘Anything’s possible, but it won’t make any odds. Once she’s in clutching range she’ll dig her claws in good and proper, and he’ll never get away from her then.’
‘They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but not if the relationship’s suffering after only a couple of months.’ Gwen gave Ellie an encouraging smile. ‘Chin up. You could be worrying over nowt, we’ll just have to wait and see.’
Dear Ellie,
Have I got news for you! Only I’m afraid I can’t put it in a letter nor say it over the phone, so you and Gwen are going to have to come for a visit! The only thing I can tell you is that there seems to have been a frightful row between the cow from Cheshire and the farmer. No one knows what it was over, but those who bore witness to her end of the telephone call reckoned she was furious, accused him of avoiding her and demanded he meet her. No one could hear what he said, but they reckon she went scarlet then slammed the receiver down without saying goodbye first.
A smile curled Ellie’s lips as she read Arla’s epistle. It was mid-July and the brightly burning sun was shining through the window by Ellie’s bed. Sitting in her vest and knickers, Ellie periodically fanned herself with the letter. She continued reading.
So I reckon you should strike while the iron’s hot. When was the last time you had some leave? As far as I recall you’ve not had owt since goin’ to see Aidan’s folks, and that was months ago! Give me a ring or drop me a line when you can arrange something. I’d best be off, I’m on duty in fifteen mins, let’s hope for a quiet one! Love, Arla.
The sound of reveille came from outside the hut. Around her, girls were yawning, stretching and jumping noisily out of their beds. Above her, she heard Gwen throw back her sheets before landing on the floor beside Ellie.
‘How come you got up so early?’ She lowered her voice. ‘Baggy hasn’t peed in someone’s shoe again, has he?’
Ellie giggled. ‘No! Blimey, he only did it a couple of times, poor little feller. You know I had that letter from Arla? Well, I didn’t have time to read it last night, but …’ She held up the paper. ‘You sit there and read it whilst I make your bed. That way you won’t be late for drill.’
Taking the letter, Gwen’s eyes widened whilst she read. Occasionally a stifled giggle could be heard leaving her lips, before she handed the letter back to Ellie.
‘So?’ Ellie said as she picked up their wash bags. ‘D’ you fancy a trip to Lincoln?’
‘I should say so!’ Gwen squealed. ‘Oh, Ellie, a real holiday! I’ve never been away without my folks before. When do we leave?’
Ellie laughed. ‘Dunno. We’ll have to have a word with Caldecott.’
Gwen clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I’ve just remembered. Ann from the cookhouse reckons Caldecott’s found her kid. Not sure how or when, but it’s good news, isn’t it?’
Ellie nodded. ‘And in more ways than one.’
Gwen frowned. ‘How so?’
Ellie grinned. ‘Because we’re going to ask her for leave, and I should think she’s on cloud nine, so no matter what we ask her for the answer will be yes!’
Aidan was sitting on the edge of his bed in the small bedroom that he shared with Connor in their billet in RAF Waddington when he heard the door latch lift. Separate billets were a luxury that only aircrew had, and whilst the small stone cottage was not as impressive as the Grand Hotel in Scarborough, it was heaven-sent when compared to the cramped intrusive conditions of a Nissen hut. Smiling, he remembered the day they had first arrived. They had barely put their kit away
before someone was knocking on the door. Expecting to find one of the crew on the doorstep, Aidan had been surprised to see the hunched figure of an old woman.
‘Hello, dearie. We heard there was a new lot moved in, and we always like to make you boys feel welcome in our village, so I’ve brought you a pot of rabbit stew, but don’t you go askin’ where the rabbit come from,’ the old woman had said, tapping the side of her nose with a weathered forefinger. ‘You boys are doin’ a grand service for your country, and don’t you think me and the hubby aren’t thankful.’ She handed him the blackened cas-serole dish.
‘Thank you. Please come in, Mrs …?’
‘Gregson, but you can call me Dolly. I won’t come in if you don’t mind, but I’d be grateful if you could return the dish. We live in the flat above the post office.’
Carefully lifting the lid, he was treated to the scent of the stew. It smelled delicious. ‘Thanks ever so much for this. I’m afraid we’re not the best cooks, and though they try their best in the mess …’
She nodded wisely. ‘There’s nowt like a proper bit of fresh game with some dumplings to fill a man.’
Now, smearing polish on to his shoes, he grunted a welcome. ‘You been out dodgin’ bullets?’
Connor hung his jacket on the hook on the door. ‘Oh, very droll. If you must know I’ve been talkin’ to Arla, and guess who’s coming for a week’s visit?’
‘Winnie the Pooh,’ said Aidan, not looking up from his task.
‘Close. It’s Ellie and Gwen.’
Aidan looked up. ‘Really? When?’
Connor chuckled. ‘Thought that might get your attention! In a fortnight. They’re goin’ to be stopping at the Saracen’s Head. I thought we could pay them a visit, take them out and about. What d’you reckon?’
Aidan shrugged nonchalantly. ‘See what Ellie thinks, only she’s been quite distant with me since Liverpool.’
‘That’s not like her; normally you can’t shut her up. Something must be wrong.’ He paused. ‘You don’t think she’s found out about Evie, do you?’
Aidan shook his head dismissively. ‘Not a chance. She’d not hold her tongue if she thought something was going on. Besides, all that’s in the past now. There’s nothing to find out, not any more.’
Connor seemed not to notice that his cousin’s cheeks had flushed pink. ‘Perhaps she just feels a bit down, you know, having her pals around her one minute then gone the next? I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.’
Aidan regarded his cousin quizzically. ‘You write to her, don’t you? Have her letters been short, small talk, that sort of thing?’
Connor pulled a face. ‘They always have, same as most folk’s. You can’t say anything too exciting because the censor will only go and chop it out.’
Aidan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘She used to write me lengthy letters, though, so summat’s changed, and it looks like I’m the one who’s caused it, although I haven’t got the faintest idea how.’
Connor began to undress. ‘Well, I for one am not going to try and suss out the workings of the female mind, not this late in the day. You need a lot more time than that.’ Climbing between the sheets, he glanced at Aidan. ‘She’s always had a soft spot for you. Maybe she hoped you’d ask her to be your belle when you were in Liverpool.’
Having tucked his shoes beneath his bed, Aidan turned off the light by the door then gingerly felt his way back across the room. ‘Don’t you remember what Evie said about Ellie being offended by the very thought of us being together? Ellie didn’t even deny it. So no, I don’t think she was disappointed that I didn’t ask her to be my belle; if anything I’d think she was relieved.’ Climbing into bed, he yawned sleepily. ‘I did think that maybe she was upset that we’re all in Lincoln – you, me, Archie and Arla – whilst she’s stuck in Liverpool, but if that was the case I’m sure she’d have asked to move closer.’
Connor snorted as he tried to stifle his laughter. ‘Oh yes, I’m sure the ATS would go for that.’ He put on a squeaky voice. ‘Excuse me, but I don’t like it in Liverpool any more please could I go and join my friends in Lincoln I promise I’ll be go—What was that?’
‘My sock. If you haven’t anything helpful to add to the conversation, you can jolly well go to sleep.’ Closing his eyes, he immediately saw Ellie brushing the mud from Spud’s thick winter coat, and sighed heavily. What he would give to be back on the farm with Ellie, milking the cows, collecting eggs and sitting down to one of his mother’s roast dinners.
‘What the hell are they coming here for? I thought I’d seen the back of those two when we left Liverpool!’ Evie said, her face turning red.
‘They’re coming to see Arla: you know, the one that signed up the same day as us? I suppose seeing the Murrays will be an added bonus. I don’t see why you’re so bothered; it’s not as if they’ve come to see you,’ Tilly said matter-of-factly.
Evie scowled. ‘Anyway, how do you know what they’re up to? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and palled up with that Arla.’
This was the question that Tilly had been dreading. ‘I’ve been writing to them.’
Evie’s mouth hung open. ‘What? Since when? More to the point, why?’
Tilly shrugged. ‘It’s nice to stay in touch and keep up with all the news.’
Evie stiffened. ‘Do you tell them our news? Or rather, have you told them anything about me and—’
Holding up a hand, Tilly cut her off. ‘I haven’t mentioned you in any of my letters; I didn’t think they’d be interested. So you can put that thought right out of your head.’
Evie relaxed. ‘Good! I wouldn’t like to think you were gossiping about me with the enemy. It’s bad enough that you’re fraternising with them.’
‘For goodness’ sakes, Evie, they are not the enemy. They’re just a couple of girls who you don’t get on with. If I were to avoid every girl you don’t get along with I’d find it impossible to function properly.’
‘Oh ha, ha, very funny. It’s not my fault all the women are jealous of me. I did try to make friends when I first arrived …’
Tilly held up a warning finger. ‘First thing you did was make snide remarks about Lincoln and the camp. You said it was a hellhole filled to the brim with the dregs of society. If that wasn’t enough, you went on to boast about your boyfriend in the RAF, which was a big mistake, especially when you failed to produce him.’
Evie scowled defensively. ‘It is a hellhole, but so are all the ATS camps, and as for the remark I made about the dregs of society, you saw those girls.’
‘Yes, I did, and there’s nothing wrong with any of them.’ Tilly turned her face away from Evie and added under her breath, ‘And I bet they have boyfriends who exist.’
Unfortunately for Tilly, the latter comment did not go unheard as she had intended.
Evie stamped her foot irritably. ‘Tilly Jarvis, you’re mean and nasty! That was a rotten thing to say. You know full well I never made him up. I don’t know what’s got into him since we arrived, but whatever it is it has nothing to do with me.’
‘I know and I’m sorry, but you have to remember that I get a lot of the flak when you’re horrid to the girls. Besides, that’s their words, not mine,’ said Tilly.
‘I hope you jolly well put them right. Nasty little cats, and there you are telling me I’m the one in the wrong.’
Tilly’s body sagged. It was no use trying to explain the error of her ways to Evie. Her friend was completely blind when it came to recognising her own faults. ‘I did put them right, but you needn’t think the old rumours won’t start up again, because they will.’ She eyed Evie. ‘I know you say you and Sergeant Barton are just good friends, and I hope you’re telling the truth. I had a gutful sticking up for you when we did our initial training. You said they were just spiteful rumours, and if you say you’re just good friends then I believe you, but some of the girls in Liverpool certainly noticed the two of you seemed closer than perhaps you should …’
‘Then you should hav
e told to them to mind their beeswax, because once again the vixens were jumping to the wrong conclusion!’ Evie shook her head chidingly. ‘Honestly, Tilly, I thought better of you than to believe idle gossip. The man’s married, for goodness’ sake.’
‘I know,’ said Tilly defensively, ‘and that’s why I need to believe what you say. I would hate to think I was defending a liar.’
Evie flushed angrily. ‘Just you take that back, Tilly Jarvis.’
Trying to catch Evie’s eye, Tilly noticed how she seemed to be avoiding her gaze. ‘I’m sorry for calling you a liar, but—’
Evie, who did not appear interested in further explanations, moved towards the door of the hut. ‘Good. Don’t do it again.’
Tilly stared at the door that had swung behind her friend. She couldn’t even look at me, she thought, nor wait to get away from me. A feeling of dread filled her. I’m sure she’s lying, and if she is Sergeant Barton will find his way here somehow, and when he does … She shook her head. It didn’t bear thinking about.
She turned her thoughts to Sergeant Barton’s wife. She was a good, kind-hearted woman who always had time for the girls under her husband’s command, including Evie. She doesn’t deserve this, Tilly thought ruefully. If Evie is still seeing him it’ll only be until she doesn’t need him any more; then she’ll drop him like a hot cake and move on, but what can I do? I can’t prove anything, and it’s not worth stirring the pot when both of them will certainly deny the accusations. She heaved a sigh. With no proof she had no choice but to let sleeping dogs lie. There was always a chance that her friend was telling the truth and if she was, Tilly would not only have caused untold damage to an otherwise secure marriage, but would have lost her best friend to boot. Tilly made up her mind. For now, she would leave things be, but if she ever found out that Evie had lied to her, then their friendship would be well and truly over.
Ellie and Gwen stood on the crowded platform waiting for the train that would take them on the first part of their journey to Lincoln. ‘A whole week!’ Gwen breathed; she shaded her eyes from the glare of sunlight penetrating the thick bank of cloud, then cried out with delight as she spied the approaching steam. ‘It’s here, it’s here! Finally, we’re off on our hols.’ Trying to pick her heavy kitbag up from the floor, she added hastily, ‘Come on, Ellie, we want a good seat. Have you got your ticket ready?’
