The Girls in Blue

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘If I’m still posted where I am then I might be able to. Shall we have another cup of tea or go for a stroll?’ She’d been dreading being asked about her own love life as she really didn’t want to talk about Oscar, but equally, was reluctant to lie to Nancy.

  ‘It’s going to be hard to be moved from Tommy, isn’t it?’

  ‘I ain’t going to be. That’s why I agreed to change trades. Tommy’s already gorn to Hornchurch. He’s transferred to fighters now.’

  *

  Oscar wasn’t as eager as Roy to venture out to the White Hart that evening. With no streetlights, no moon, and an absolute blackout imposed, finding their way down the uneven village pavement with only a pinprick of light allowed from their torches wasn’t going to be fun.

  Even the thought of a couple of pints wasn’t enough to make this venture enjoyable. He delayed their departure as long as he could. Finally, in exasperation, his friend threw his outdoor garments in his lap. ‘Cheer up, you miserable bastard, you were moaning about being unable to leave the base and now you’re complaining again.’

  ‘Okay, I’m coming, but under protest. I refuse to enjoy myself and maintain my right to be as miserable as I want all evening.’

  Roy slapped him on the back and good relations were restored. As soon as they stepped out of the cottage, they could hear voices and see half a dozen wavering beams of light. The excited chatter of children, the laughter and happy banter coming from the adults, was enough to lift his mood.

  ‘Sorry, let’s get a pint and then go straight across. Being amongst families is exactly what we both need – it’ll remind us why we signed up.’ It would also remind him of what might have been if Jane had not ended things between them.

  ‘We don’t have to join in the beetle drive. There are bound to be chaps willing to play a game of darts with us – that’s if they’ve got a dartboard over there.’

  The White Hart was packed and so noisy a normal conversation wouldn’t be possible. Just like the Officers’ Mess most nights. He shouldered his way to the bar, found himself sandwiched between a local and someone he recognised from the base. Hardly surprising as Debden was the nearest town and had two decent pubs in it.

  He shouted his order and was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the barmaid pulled the pints. He dropped the coins on the counter, nodded to the officer he recognised, and wriggled backwards, relieved to be away from the crush.

  ‘Here you are, Roy, let’s get this down and then get over to the village hall. I know smoking is supposed to be good for the lungs and calming for the nerves but I just don’t like the smell.’

  They retreated until they were in a space by the front door left empty because of the howling draft that came from behind the blackout curtain every time someone came in.

  ‘As I told you before, you’re a miserable old sod. Only half a dozen females in here and all of them too old or spoken for. I know you’re still pining for Jane, but it’s time you forgot about her. We could all be dead in six months.’

  Oscar laughed out loud, making several heads turn. ‘Thanks for reminding me, but hardly something either of us want to dwell on if we’re going to enjoy ourselves tonight.’

  Roy wasn’t to be deterred. ‘Hitler’s fuming at the delay caused by the appalling weather all over Europe. It’s a godsend, don’t you think, as it’s given us time to build more kites and train more pilots and aircrew.’

  ‘The British Expeditionary Force are having a rotten time in France. The merchant navy’s getting hammered by the U-boats. It hasn’t started for the RAF but it has for the Army and Navy. Now that you’ve got that off your chest, can we change the subject and pretend everything’s tickety-boo?’

  After the third time someone entered bringing the cold air with them Oscar decided he’d had enough. He drained his glass and put it on the nearest table. ‘Let’s go over to the village hall and see if it’s more convivial than here.’

  With coats buttoned up, scarves firmly tied, they braved the elements. He was amused to see three children skipping about as if it was midsummer, unbothered by the darkness or the uneven surface of the pavement.

  They followed the family into the hall. As soon as the door closed behind them all seven of them stepped from behind the blackout curtains into a lobby. A jolly lady in a floral frock better suited to summer temperatures beckoned them over to her table.

  ‘Threepence each, officers, for the cloakroom, and sixpence entrance fee. This includes refreshments.’

  There were double swinging doors just ahead and someone was playing the piano with more enthusiasm than skill and people were singing. He rather enjoyed a singsong, had been in the choir at his father’s church as a boy, and his foot began to tap.

  ‘This sounds rather good, Roy, let’s get our coats disposed of and join in the fun.’

  There were about thirty or so gathered around the piano. A spirited rendering of Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’ was just beginning. This was a song he knew all the words to and he exchanged a happy smile with his friend and they both began to sing.

  He was a tenor and Roy a baritone, and soon the others became aware they had two men with excellent voices singing along with gusto. By the end of the session everyone in the hall had stopped to listen. As the final notes faded there was a spontaneous round of applause. They joined in not realising it was for them and not the pianist.

  ‘My word, I’ve never heard anything quite like that,’ an elderly man in a dog collar said as he offered his hand. ‘John Culley – delighted to meet you. I don’t suppose you’d be prepared to join my choir whilst you’re stationed here?’

  Oscar introduced himself and Roy, which gave him a few moments to consider the offer. He’d been going to refuse but said the opposite. ‘My father’s a country vicar like you. I’d be happy to sing with your choir but I’ve no idea how often that will be. I’m familiar with all the popular hymns so think I could drop in and out without causing your choir master problems.’

  Roy shook his head. ‘Sorry, Padre, unlike my friend I’m not a churchgoer.’

  The children’s games didn’t appeal but he liked watching them enjoying themselves. After that the pianist was persuaded to start playing something suitable to dance to. There was a flutter of excitement on the far side of the hall where a bevy of young ladies were grouped.

  ‘I’m going to dance. That’s why we came, isn’t it?’

  Roy was right – for some reason Oscar was reluctant to join the other men who were heading for the overexcited girls. He looked around and saw there were several older women tapping their feet. He made his way towards one of them.

  ‘Good evening, I’m Oscar Stanton. Would you care to dance with me?’

  ‘I’d love to. I’m Joyce Cunningham. It’s my hubby’s the one torturing the piano.’

  He enjoyed dancing with Mrs Cunningham and after the waltz he then accompanied her a second time in a lively polka.

  ‘I won’t monopolise you, Flight Lieutenant; there are others eager for your company. Thank you, you’re an excellent dancer.’

  Whilst his friend danced with most of the single girls, he made a point of sticking with the more mature women. He had no wish to indulge in pointless flirting. The only girl he wanted to kiss was unobtainable.

  The remainder of the evening was noisy, and got more so as the majority of the attendees made frequent visits to the White Hart. Roy was one of them. He was decidedly unsteady on his feet at the end of the event but refused to return to the cottage.

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s not even nine o’clock. I’m going to enjoy the rest of the evening downing a few more pints.’

  There were about a dozen other chaps from the base and they were in that happy state somewhere between legless and a bit merry. He was completely sober and had no intention of joining them. As one of the few men who hadn’t been drinking, he decided to remain behind and help clear up.

  The sound of the airmen larking about with the village girls – the boys
in blue had been in high demand for the dancing that had finished the event – made him smile like an indulgent uncle. Then someone yelled. There was the sound of breaking wood, an almighty splash, and then the screaming started.

  20

  Nancy wanted to go to Trafalgar Square and feed the pigeons. ‘They’ll be half-starved in this weather, and I don’t reckon anyone’s selling stuff for them neither.’ The teacake had been slathered with margarine, which Jane hated, so she’d left hers.

  ‘It’s against the law to feed birds. Hope we don’t get arrested.’

  ‘Don’t reckon anyone will notice.’

  ‘We can take this,’ Jane said. ‘The square isn’t far from here. Only a short walk along Whitehall and we’ll be there.’ She surreptitiously wrapped the teacake in her handkerchief and pushed the soggy parcel into her pocket. From the glare they got from the proprietor as they left she thought she hadn’t been surreptitious enough.

  They chatted of this and that, made comments on the attractiveness of any man in uniform, and spent most of the walk arm in arm and giggling at each other’s nonsense. If Nancy was upset about her father’s behaviour, she certainly wasn’t showing it.

  Nelson’s Column was as impressive as she’d hoped and the lions even better. The fountains weren’t working and there was no water in the surrounding ponds. There was a war on so everyone was saving water.

  ‘Good heavens, there are loads of people here. I expected it to be deserted in the middle of the day especially as it’s a Thursday.’ She carefully removed the teacake from the hanky and handed half to her friend.

  There’d been only a few pigeons hopping about but within moments of just taking the food out, without even sprinkling it on the ground, they were surrounded by hundreds of birds.

  Hastily she gave her offering to Nancy and backed away from the flock, her heart pounding, uncomfortable with being so close to so many birds. Until that moment she hadn’t known she was afraid of them. From the safety of the empty fountain she was happy to watch the crumbs being scattered in order that as many pigeons as possible got a bit.

  They weren’t all grey. There were white ones, brown ones – in fact every conceivable mixture of colours. Some of them even had fantails so must have come from someone’s dovecote. She enjoyed viewing from a distance and was smiling at their antics and her friend’s attempt to distribute the cake fairly.

  Something made her look round, made her uneasy. An unpleasant-looking individual in a shiny, cheap suit was staring at her. Her stomach lurched. Was this the private detective her father had employed to find her?

  Then Nancy was at her side. ‘Don’t take any notice of that bloke. He’s a flasher if ever I saw one.’

  The watcher merged into the swirling crowd and the band gripping her chest loosened. ‘What’s a flasher?’

  ‘A bloke what shows you his bits and pieces.’

  For a moment Jane didn’t understand and then her eyes widened as the penny dropped. ‘Golly, I’ve never heard of someone like that. I’m glad you came along when you did. He’s gone now. The Portrait Gallery’s just over there. Shall we go in and have a look round?’

  ‘Wouldn’t be much to see. Them grand pictures was taken away last year so when them Germans start dropping bombs on us they won’t be destroyed.’

  ‘That’s a shame. I suppose the National Gallery and the Tate will be closed as well. They can’t move the Tower of London, so shall we go there? I’ve never seen it and even if we can’t go in and look at the Crown Jewels it will be a treat to wander about outside.’

  They went to the pictures after seeing the Tower and it was a relief to sit down after all the tramping about. The film was a musical called Swing Time and starred dancers called Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. She was spellbound and quite prepared to sit through the entire program again if Nancy had only agreed.

  ‘That was absolutely spiffing, Nancy, so much better than the film I saw last time.’

  ‘I love a good romance, me. It were ever so good. I ain’t usually much for dancing and such but them two certainly know how to cut the mustard.’

  ‘I’d never heard that phrase until today when it was used in the film. I think I might adopt it.’

  ‘I’m a bit peckish. Let’s find a caf and get somethink to eat. All them business blokes will be milling about soon so we better find somewhere soon.’

  At dusk as they were returning to the hotel she was convinced she saw the man from Trafalgar Square on the other side of the street. She grabbed Nancy’s arm. ‘Quickly, look over there. Isn’t it the man you called a flasher?’

  Nancy shook her head. ‘No, you’re seeing things. It weren’t him, he were younger and fatter than that bloke over there.’

  ‘Are you quite sure?’ She hesitated but then decided to take Nancy into her confidence. After all Charlotte knew some of it so it only seemed right to share it with Nancy. When she’d finished explaining why she was so concerned about being followed, her friend was horrified.

  ‘Bloody Nora, Jane, I ain’t surprised you’re twitchy. If I ever see that bastard what did that to you, I’ll cut his balls off.’

  She was so shocked by such a graphic response that she forgot her fear and laughed. ‘Shush, you mustn’t say things like that. Do you think I’m worrying unnecessarily?’

  ‘I do. Even if that were a detective, that man can’t do nothing to you. You signed up for the duration like what I have and there’s sod all he can do about it. He ain’t going to snatch you off the streets, now is he?’

  ‘Please, Nancy, don’t swear so much. It brings back terrible memories of the one time I was stupid enough to repeat something I’d heard a workman say.’

  ‘I’ll do me best. My lot ain’t too great neither. Me brothers are a bit simple like and can be right nasty sometimes. Me dad’s more interested in the boozer than he is his family and me ma rarely has enough housekeeping. That’s why he wanted me ring and why I ain’t going back there anytime soon.’

  ‘But he’s not violent towards any of you, is he?’

  ‘Me ma would soon sort him out if he tried anythink like that. Let’s get inside. We can keep a lookout through the bedroom window as it’s got a smashing view of the street.’

  When they collected their key, the concierge – who had been in the back office – hurried out to speak to them. ‘Miss Hadley, an undesirable gentleman was making enquiries about you. I sent him packing.’

  Her recently eaten meal threatened to return. ‘Did he ask for me by name?’

  ‘He did but I told him no one of that name was a guest here. Do you wish me to telephone the constabulary?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. However, I’m going to cut my visit short and only stay one night. Can you prepare my bill now so I can leave at first light?’

  ‘Would you like me to send you up some coffee and sandwiches later on?’

  The thought of food revolted her but Nancy would want to eat. ‘Yes, thank you, that would be very kind. Make sure that they’re included on the bill. I’ll come down and pay before I retire.’

  Nancy had remained silent up until this point and looked as worried as she did at this unexpected interruption to their leave.

  ‘You ain’t going nowhere without me. I’ll take me bill too; we’ll leave together.’

  Jane didn’t feel safe until she was inside the room with the door closed and the key turned in the lock. ‘I don’t understand how that detective found his way to this hotel?’

  ‘Hang on a minute, I need to ask that bloke behind the desk a couple of questions.’

  Jane hardly dared approach the window in case there was someone watching from outside. Once the blackouts were drawn, she couldn’t look out anyway. There was a knock on the door and she ran over. It was Nancy and she let her in and then relocked the door.

  ‘It was what I thought. It weren’t the same effing bloke, Jane. There’s two of the bleeders looking for you. God knows how they discovered you was staying here. It don’t make no s
ense to me.’

  She collapsed on the bed. ‘Oh God – that man must know I’m in here. I’m under age – I forged his permission when I signed up – that could mean he might be able to legally remove me from here. He could turn up here at any moment accompanied by policemen. What am I going to do?’

  ‘Ain’t nothing you can do at the moment, but I reckon that bloke downstairs is on your side and will let us leave by a back entrance tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s all very well, but what if that man barges in tonight?’

  Nancy patted her arm. ‘I ain’t one for gossiping but I told him downstairs what’s what. He’ll not let anyone come up here.’

  ‘I wish you hadn’t. I hate the thought of strangers knowing my business. You shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘Far worse if that bastard gets hold of you.’

  She managed a weak smile. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. If I give you my share of the bill, will you take it down now and make the arrangements for first thing?’

  Jane didn’t sleep much that night. Every time she heard a voice outside in the street, a noise in the corridor, her heart lurched and she sat up in bed. She slept in her underwear just in case.

  At six o’clock they were both dressed when there was a soft tap on the door. Someone had come to escort them through the sleeping hotel and out through the staff entrance that led into a narrow, cobbled street.

  ‘Good luck, miss. Take care of yourself.’ She heard the uniformed porter bolting the gate behind them. It was dark and frosty. Nancy had been given clear instructions on how to find their way to the underground station without being seen in the main streets.

  They were going in different directions and she expected to part company with her friend at the turnstile.

  ‘I ain’t leaving you until you’re safely back on your base. No point in arguing. I’ve made up me mind.’

  ‘That’s so kind of you. I was rather dreading travelling on my own as every stranger who looks at me fills me with terror.’