When the Lights Go on Again

by Annie Groves

  The dance came to an end, the lights were turned up again, and Sasha and Bobby made their way back to the table, Bobby telling her to go on ahead without him whilst he went to the bar to get them each a drink.

  ‘I’ll just nip to the ladies then. Meet you back at the table,’ Sasha said, giving him a quick kiss.

  The ladies was for once empty. Going into one of the cubicles, Sasha locked the door and hung her handbag on the peg.

  Two minutes later, though, when she tried to unlock the door she discovered that for some reason it had jammed and she was trapped in the lavatory. Trying not to panic she called out, hoping that someone would hear her, but then abruptly all the lights went out, leaving her completely in the dark.

  Now Sasha couldn’t face down her panic. It seized her and gripped her, cramping her tummy and bringing her out in a cold sweat whilst her heart thumped and she struggled to breathe.

  Reality slipped away from her, eclipsed by the past. Inside her head Sasha wasn’t trapped in the ladies’ lavatory but beneath an unexploded bomb, and she was trapped there alone, abandoned by her twin and left to die. And she would die if she so much as breathed too heavily, never mind moved.

  She mustn’t move, she mustn’t do anything that would cause the full weight of the bomb to come down on her, crushing her into darkness and death, but despite knowing that, a small whimper bubbled in her locked throat.

  The lights had come back up but Sasha was barely aware of that fact. Mentally she had slipped into a place that held her trapped by her own memories.

  The door to the cloakroom opened and three girls hurried in, giggling.

  ‘Did you hear what that Yank said to me? Called me a baby Betty Grable,’ one of them told the others.

  ‘That’s ‘cos he wanted to find out how old you are. The one I was dancing with promised me some proper nylons if I agreed to go out with him again. Here,’ the speaker broke off, gesturing down to the floor, ‘what’s that?’

  All three girls looked downwards.

  ‘It looks like a shoe to me,’ the third member of the trio answered, having looked round from the mirror to glance at Sasha’s shoe, which was protruding from beneath the lavatory door.

  ‘Is there anyone in there?’ the girl who had first seen Sasha’s shoe demanded, banging on the door and then turning the handle, telling the other two unnecessarily, ‘It’s locked. Here, Jenny, you’re the smallest, you get down on the floor and see if there’s anyone in there.’

  ‘What? No fear. I’m not getting down there and dirtying me frock. Besides, you don’t know what might be in there. In this book I read, there was a girl that was murdered in a lavvie and her body—’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Get down and have a look.’

  The sound of the girls’ voices brought Sasha out of the place she had slipped into inside her own head. She felt sick and dizzy, her heart thudding far too fast. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t do anything other than sit curled up with her arms locked round her knees, still gripped by her own fear.

  Beneath the door she could see blonde hair and a girl’s face, which suddenly disappeared when Jenny scrambled to her feet and told her friends breathlessly, ‘There’s a girl in there, sat right by the door and not saying anything.’

  Pam, the eldest of the three, took charge.

  Banging on the door, she asked, ‘You in there, are you all right?’

  Sasha blinked and shivered, the images that had been tormenting her receding and her awareness of where she was returning.

  ‘Yes,’ she called back, ‘but the lock on the door’s jammed.’

  ‘Jenny, go and fetch someone and be quick about it,’ Pam ordered her friend. ‘Tell them that there’s someone stuck in one of the lavvies.’

  ‘What do you mean, fetch someone – who?’

  ‘The manager, of course, you daft head,’ Pam instructed her. Then, leaning towards the door she called out to Sasha, ‘Don’t worry, love, we’ll have you out of there soon. Trapped in there when the lights went off, was you? Give us all a real shock, that did.’

  ‘You didn’t look to me like you was all that shocked when they came back on again and you was still letting that Yank kiss you,’ Jenny objected, wincing when Pam pulled open the door to the ladies and pushed her through it.

  ‘Won’t be long before you’re out of there,’ Pam called to Sasha, only to break off when the outer door opened to readmit Jenny.

  ‘There’s a lad out there says he’s looking for his fiancée.’

  Pam pulled open the door and assessed Bobby. Having decided that he looked a decent sort, and safe, she told him, ‘You’d better come in. There’s a girl trapped in one of the lavvies. I don’t know if it’s your fiancée but—’

  Moving past her, Bobby knocked on the locked door and called out, ‘Sasha, is that you in there? It’s me – Bobby.’

  Relief swelled through Sasha. Once again Bobby was here to save her.

  Suddenly she was sobbing and saying his name, and Bobby was telling her not to worry and that she would be free soon, before he left to go and find the manager.

  ‘What are you crying for?’ Pam demanded as Jenny burst into noisy sobs.

  ‘I can’t help it,’ Jenny protested. ‘It’s just so romantic, that’s all, like sommat out of a film.’

  ‘Romantic? Being trapped in a lavvie? Don’t be daft,’ Pam told Jenny scornfully whilst Eliza, the third member of the trio, announced, ‘Right scared, I’d be if it was me. Imagine if we hadn’t come in and found her? She could have ended up locked in there all night.’

  Listening to them from inside her prison, Sasha shuddered. She was so lucky to have Bobby to protect her and love her. Without him…A fresh fear gripped her as she contemplated how unbearable her life would be if she were ever to be left alone with her fear without Bobby to protect her from it. She wouldn’t be able to live without him, she just wouldn’t.

  A few minutes later, freed from her prison and in Bobby’s arms, Sasha thanked her rescuers between her tears before Bobby guided her tenderly towards the dance hall exit.

  ‘I’m so glad you came and found me, Bobby,’ Sasha told him.

  ‘I’d have been there sooner,’ he responded, ‘but I thought you must have bumped into someone you knew and that you were having a bit of a chinwag. It was only when you’d been gone ages that I started getting worried.’

  ‘When the lights went out it made me feel just like I did when I was trapped under that bomb,’ Sasha told him emotionally.

  ‘What? Don’t be daft,’ Bobby responded affectionately, adding, ‘Come on, I’d better get you home.’

  Once they were outside on the pavement Sasha clung tightly to Bobby’s arm. The closer they got to her home, the tighter she clung to him, and when finally they turned into her road Sasha stopped walking and told him, ‘Bobby, I don’t want to go home. I want to stay with you.’

  ‘Sash, we can’t do that. For one thing, my landlady wouldn’t let us, and for another your dad would have my guts for garters if I were to…well, you know what I mean.’

  Bobby was a decent young man who, much as he loved Sasha, would never dream of suggesting that they anticipate their marriage vows. Sasha’s words had caught him off guard and, if he were honest, they had shocked him as well. It was so unlike her. Both of them had agreed that there would be ‘no funny business’ between them until after they were married. A little heavy petting on a handful of occasions was as far as they had gone, and as far as Bobby really wanted to go until Sasha was wearing his wedding ring – and not just because he knew he wouldn’t be able to face either of her parents but especially her father, whom Bobby admired a great deal, if he had taken advantage of Sasha, and their engagement.

  ‘Bobby, I want to be with you. I want you to hold me tight and keep me safe.’ Sasha’s voice and body both trembled, the intensity of her emotion making Bobby feel helpless. He didn’t understand her in this unfamiliar mood. It just wasn’t like her.

  ‘We can’t do that
until we’re married, Sash. You know that.’

  ‘Then let’s get married,’ Sasha told him wildly. ‘Let’s get married now, Bobby, as soon as we can.’

  ‘You know your dad won’t let us.’

  Sasha did know that. Her parents, and especially her father, had made it clear to her that he would not give his consent to their marriage until the war was over or she was twenty-one, whichever happened first.

  Tears streamed down Sasha’s face. Bobby just didn’t know what to do. He knew that there must be some connection between her present mood and the fact that she had been trapped in the lavatory, but for the life of him he couldn’t imagine what it might be. Bobby was a pragmatic young man, not given to dwelling on things or being troubled by his imagination. The fact that Sasha had told him that being stuck in the lavatory had reminded her of being trapped under the bomb was something he had dismissed as a female reaction that he was not equipped to understand.

  ‘Come on,’ he told Sasha, urging her forward, ‘if we don’t get back soon your mum will be worrying.’

  Sasha didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She was too gripped by fear and helplessness. She needed Bobby to be with her. Only he could make her feel safe. Once they were married and Bobby had left the Bomb Disposal squad then she would stop feeling like this, and everything would be all right. Why couldn’t her parents and Bobby realise that? Why couldn’t they understand? Once she wouldn’t have needed to explain to anyone how she felt because Lou would have been there and Lou would have known. But Lou had changed, become different, forcing Sasha to be protective of her love for Bobby, and the closeness they had shared had gone. Now there was no one to understand the fear and pain locked inside her. Sometimes she didn’t even understand it herself, Sasha admitted

  Lou couldn’t sleep, which was ridiculous, given how tired she was. She looked at her watch. Four o’clock. Surely the raid must be over now and the men would be on their way back home. Lou closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like turning for home, the heavy Lancasters lighter now without their deadly loads, the night sky filled with the steady thrum of plane engines, as they crossed the darkened land below them. Each mile closer to home would ease some of the pressure, but the rear gunners would be poised and on the lookout for German planes and anti-aircraft batteries, as would the pilots, whilst the navigators kept an eye on their course. If their target had been Hamburg then they wouldn’t have much land to cover, before they reached the North Sea and then the safety of English shores.

  She should be trying to get some sleep, not worrying about the safety of men who had nothing to do with her, but it was impossible to do that when she was here at their base, just as it was impossible not to be infected with the mood of anxiety that gripped the other girls in the hut. It took her back to the days when she had first joined up to be back in a WAAF hut again. The other girls might be strangers to her, but she still found their presence comforting.

  It was five o’clock when Lou finally heard the sound for which her ears had been straining: a low barely there rumble she had to track for several seconds before she was sure it was the returning planes, and by that time the barely there rumble had intensified to a muted thrum, the sound quickly increasing.

  ‘They’re back,’ came a voice from one of the other beds, and all around her Lou could hear the sound of movement of heads on pillows, lifting in the darkness and turning towards the sound of the returning planes, just as she had lifted her own.

  No one was counting out aloud but Lou knew that they were all checking the numbers inside their heads as the planes came in.

  One, then two, three, four, each touching-down plane easing a little more of the tension, until they had reached twelve. No one counted thirteen, just in case. Fifteen planes had gone out but for them all to return safely they would have to count to sixteen. Only they couldn’t.

  Number fourteen landed and then there was silence, and waiting, hoping…A plane could get off course, or be hit and slowed down; it might even have to be abandoned, its crew parachuting to safety if it was badly shot up. Fourteen. They needed two more to have a complete tally. Fourteen.

  ‘Corp’s chap is a navigator on one of the planes that went out tonight,’ the girl in the bed next to Lou whispered to her as the door opened to the small private room occupied by the corporal, and in the dim light from that room the fully dressed figure of the corporal could be seen, smoke curling through the air as she drew heavily on her cigarette.

  The minutes ticked by and became an hour.

  The corporal, who had stood in silence in the doorway, stubbed out her fifth cigarette and went back into her room.

  ‘They won’t be coming back now,’ the girl next to Lou told her soberly.

  Two planes lost, two crews potentially lost – men with wives, and children, sweethearts and families. Men who were gone for ever. Men like Kieran Mallory. Lou’s heart turned over. It was just because she knew him, that was all, she told herself sturdily. Nothing else, and certainly nothing more!

  There was no sleep now for any of them.

  TEN

  ‘I’m still hoping that Leonard will get leave over Christmas. What about you, Katie, have you made any plans yet?’ Gina asked as she and Katie walked into the office together and headed for the cloakroom.

  ‘My parents’ friends have invited me to join them for the day.’

  ‘They live in Hampstead, don’t they?’ Gina asked as she unwound the knitted scarf from around her neck. Gina was wearing her lovely warm-looking camel coat and her brown beret. Her friend always looked so smart. Katie’s own coat was dark grey and she had bought it just before the war.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  Katie wasn’t really looking forward to Christmas, she admitted as she removed her own bright red scarf and hat and hung them on one of the pegs, the red making a brave blaze of colour against the dark brown painted walls.

  ‘We’ll all be going to the Manor House and Eddie’s parents for Christmas dinner. Apparently it’s a family tradition, with Eddie’s father being the head of the family. Privately, between you and me, I’d much rather Leonard and I could spend Christmas on our own.’ Gina pulled a small face. ‘I know that’s dreadfully selfish of me.’

  ‘No it isn’t,’ Katie defended her. ‘It’s perfectly natural. Perhaps you could suggest to Leonard that the two of you spend a couple of days in London and the rest of his leave with his family?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Gina admitted, ‘but it wouldn’t be fair to the children.’

  They removed their coats and hung them up.

  ‘Come on,’ Gina said firmly. ‘Let’s get to our desks, otherwise we’ll be late.’

  An air of despair and despondency at the suspected loss of two planes and their crews quite naturally permeated the thoughts of everyone at the base, including Lou, who emerged from the admin block into a morning of crisp clear air and the knowledge that she had clearance to resume her journey.

  It wasn’t just the thought of the two Lancasters and their crews that was weighing so heavily on Lou’s heart. There was also the loss of a fellow ATA pilot, even if she hadn’t actually known that pilot personally.

  It had been all over the canteen when she had queued up for her breakfast that one of the Lancasters had been the one piloted by Kieran Mallory. Just thinking his name in her thoughts made Lou’s heart give a fierce kick of tangled emotions, and a desire to reject the fact that Kieran and his crew were now officially posted as ‘missing’, which meant that it was more than likely that they were dead.

  Kieran had taken her from youthful adolescence into the pain and misery of her first – and last – crush; her first taste of the bittersweetness of being ‘in love’. It had been from him that she had learned about duplicity and all that went with it. It had been because of Kieran that she and Sasha had quarrelled.

  His death should have freed her from all those unwanted emotions she couldn’t quite escape but instead of feeling free what sh
e actually felt was disbelief and pain, mingled with anger at this reaction.

  She had no reason to mourn a man who had treated her and Sasha so badly. A man who only yesterday had infuriated her with his arrogance. And who had made her ache inside with a need she didn’t want to acknowledge just by lighting her cigarette for her.

  She desperately craved the comfort of a cigarette right now, Lou acknowledged, but the Spitfire had been refuelled and was waiting for her.

  Her eyes stinging with unwanted tears, Lou walked to the runway, carrying her parachute with her. The morning breeze had a sharp edge to it, making her shiver slightly. A small group of mechanics were standing close to the Spitfire and outside the hangar, but instead of smoking and talking they were all standing completely still, their backs to Lou as they stared at the horizon.

  Something – a frisson of sensation, an awareness of a different movement in the air – had Lou stiffening where she stood, her own focus on the empty sky, a knowing that lifted the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck filling her, even though she could neither see nor hear anything. Something was happening. The sound was so faint that she had to stretch her ears to hear it: the stuttering of a damaged engine, the growl of an injured lion, breathing his last, that had her breath catching in the back of her throat and her heart filling with hope – and fear.

  Now at last they could see it, the dull grey shape no more than a smudge on the horizon, weaving its way towards them.

  It didn’t take one of the mechanic’s grim, ‘Looks like the undercarriage is gone. He’ll never be able to bring her down in one piece,’ to tell Lou what was happening, and how badly damaged the incoming Lancaster was.

  ‘Mallory won’t try to land her. It’s a miracle he’s managed to get her this far, if you ask me, but then he’s a ruddy good pilot. He’ll bring her down as low as he can and then give the order to the men to jump – them what can jump.’