‘She’s going with an officer? Ooh, my word, there’s posh!’ The girl pushed up the end of her snub nose, and all the others sniggered.
‘After he’s had his hands inside your drawers, you won’t be speaking to the likes of us,’ put in her friend.
‘You two had your postings yet?’ enquired another girl.
‘We’re both off to driving school,’ said Cassie, relieved to change the subject.
‘In Luton,’ added Frances. ‘It’s a three day course. They’re desperate for ATS to drive the army’s lorries.’
‘They reckon you can learn to drive a lorry in three days?’
‘It can’t be very difficult,’ said Cassie. ‘You just go backwards, forwards – ’
‘Then you drive into a ditch!’
On an airstrip outside Luton, twenty ATS girls from various army barracks all around the country stood on the tarmac in the morning mist, eyeing four Bedford trucks parked side by side, a hundred yards away.
‘Any of you lovely ladies ever driven before?’ enquired the grim-faced sergeant instructor, scowling at them all in obvious scorn.
‘Yes, I have, Sergeant Brent,’ said Frances promptly. ‘I’ve driven Daddy’s Morris since I was seventeen. I can drive an Austin van, as well.’
‘Oh, I say, can you really, Lady Muck?’ The sergeant grinned, and Frances blushed bright red. ‘Maybe you’ll end up teaching me a few things I don’t know.’
‘Sarcastic bugger, take no notice,’ whispered Cassie.
‘Who asked your opinion, Fairy Fay?’ Sergeant Brent glared angrily at Cassie. ‘You speak with my permission, understood? Otherwise, you button it. I dunno why they’ve sent you here, I’m sure. You’re far too short to see out of a lorry. You’ll look like bloody Chad in that cartoon, tryin’ to see over that brick wall.’
‘We can sit her on a cushion, sarge,’ the corporal standing beside the sergeant said, and he winked at Cassie conspiratorially.
‘Jesus, give me strength,’ the sergeant muttered. ‘All right, girls, this way. Quick march, at the double, pick your feet up. Shoe leather costs money, so don’t wear it out by scrapin’ it along the road. Whoever taught you shower to march, was they a cripple, too?’
Cassie pulled a face behind his back.
‘This thing here’s a truck,’ said Sergeant Brent, slapping a Bedford lorry on the bonnet. ‘Inside, you got the steerin’ wheel, an’ gears an’ brakes an’ stuff. Outside, you got the engine. You have to make ’em all co-operate.’
Cassie listened carefully, determined not to fuck it up as the sergeant confidently predicted they all would. She was put in Corporal Benson’s group and, when it was her turn behind the wheel, she found to her relief that she could reach the pedals – just.
As Corporal Benson climbed into the cab, she tapped the pedals lightly with her shoe, getting the feel for where they were – accelerator, brake, she thought, accelerator, brake, and don’t get them mixed up.
‘Now, if you’re sitting comfortably, just put her into first,’ the corporal said, and lit a casual cigarette. ‘Clutch right down, your other foot on the gas, then ease the gear stick to your left. Just push it, love – don’t shove.’
Cassie put her foot down on the clutch, engaged the gears, released the hand brake and prayed to the God she didn’t know if she believed in: make the bastard move.
The bastard did.
‘The fairy’s done all right today, and Lady Muck’s not bad, but the rest of you are bleeding hopeless,’ said the sergeant, at the end of a long twelve-hour session that had left some girls in tears. The Bedford trucks had had their paint scraped off, their gears ground down to iron filings, and the rubber burned off all their tyres.
‘Grayson, Taylor, Lucas, Ashford, Penfold – you’ll report for duty again tomorrow morning, six o’clock, an’ no one’s to be late. We’ve got a war to win. The rest of you are useless, so I’m getting shot of you before you cause a fatal accident. Or bugger one of the army’s precious lorries, which would be ten times worse.’
‘We did it!’ As Cassie and Frances fell out with the others, and walked towards the hut where they’d be sleeping while they did the course, they grinned at one another.
‘But we’ve got to strip an engine down tomorrow morning,’ said Frances doubtfully.
‘So, how hard can it be?’ Cassie shrugged and smiled encouragingly. ‘I know all there is to know about engines, anyway. I used to help to make them. Well, I made them for tanks. I don’t suppose a lorry’s very different.’
It wasn’t, and Cassie got on very well. By the end of the intensive three-day course, Sergeant Brent had laryngitis and Corporal Benson said he was putting in for a transfer to the Catering Corps, but all the girls had passed. Now they’d be sent off to another army camp, to train to be army drivers, couriers, chauffeurs, driving anything from motorbikes to three ton army trucks.
‘Well, are you going?’ Frances asked, when Robert wrote again and said he’d finally got some leave from Camberley.
So could Cassie get away and spend a couple of days in London? She could stay with his sister, Daisy Denham, and her husband Ewan Fraser, in Park Lane.
‘You mean she’s going to stay with Daisy Denham?’ asked Jess Penfold, when Frances told the others all about it – that Cassie was going to London to see Daisy’s little brother, and would meet his actress sister, and her famous film star husband, too.
‘You mean the Daisy Denham?’ demanded Alice Lucas. ‘The one who’s in those London shows?’
‘Yes, I suppose,’ said Cassie carelessly.
‘You lucky cow!’ cried Linda Grayson.
‘Cass, get me her autograph?’ asked Alice.
‘All right,’ said Cassie, yawning.
But inside, she was scared.
This was all too much.
She was really dying to see Robert. She’d stopped bothering to deny it. But she had never been to London, and she’d never met anybody famous. As for actresses – weren’t they really bitchy, didn’t they lie in bed until mid-day, didn’t they get divorced every five minutes?
‘Cassie Taylor, the CO wants to see you, now.’ A corporal tapped her on the shoulder, shaking her out of her worried daydream. ‘Leave your porridge.’
Cassie was marched across the parade ground, trying to work out what she’d done wrong – had Corporal Benson grassed on her for cheek? Or had her overalls been dirty? Or had she let her hair grow so it brushed her jacket collar? Or were her badges less than shining bright?
‘Good morning, Private Taylor.’ As Cassie stood to attention on the lino, quaking in her shoes, the army captain looked up from his desk.
He smiled at Cassie kindly. ‘Stand at ease,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Corporal Howard, you needn’t stay. Well, Private Taylor, I’ve heard great things of you, and you’re in line for your first stripe.’
‘Congratulations, you deserve it,’ Frances said, and grinned.
‘Jolly well done, Cassie.’ Alice patted Cassie on the shoulder.
‘You were the best of all of us,’ said Jess.
‘So you’ll soon be off, then?’ Linda asked.
‘Yes, it looks like it,’ said Cassie, wondering where she’d put her sewing kit. She was sure she’d left it on the night-stand. Some thieving so-and-so must have borrowed it.
‘Where will you be going?’ Alice asked.
‘Aldershot,’ said Cassie.
‘That’s not too far from Camberley or London,’ Frances told Cassie, beaming. ‘So even if you find you can’t get any leave, Robert will be able to get himself to Aldershot to see you.’
‘Do you think he might?’
‘He’ll be there,’ said Frances. ‘I would put money on it.’
Later on that day, when she and Cassie were by themselves, Frances coughed and cleared her throat, like people often did when they had something difficult to say.
‘Listen, Cassie,’ she said impressively, ‘you will be nice to Robert, won’t you? I mean, you won’t be sm
art with him? Or laugh at him? He’ll be going away, remember, and he might get killed. He likes you very much – ’
‘Well, Fran – there’s nice and nice,’ said Cassie. ‘I’m not going to be so nice to Robert that I end up like my mother. It would kill my granny.’
Cassie arrived in Aldershot on a damp June evening.
The train was very late. Mid-way through the journey, the engine had packed up, so it had had to be towed off, and it had been ages before a new one came. The passengers had been stuck in a siding for three hours or more. They were desperate for a cup of tea, but had to make do with smoking, playing cards, and looking at each other.
Now, glancing at the station clock, Cassie saw she’d been expected at the local barracks hours ago.
The other passengers were civilians, and they were all going into town. It didn’t look as if she’d get a chance to cadge a lift. So she asked a porter for directions, was told about a short cut that would take a mile off her walk, and then she set off on her own.
Shouldering her kitbag, she started slogging down the road between high, flowering hedges, enjoying the sweet scents of summer, but longing for her supper.
It was almost dark. Moths were fluttering softly round her head, bats swooped low to dart at flying insects, and ahead of her she saw a family of rabbits sitting boldly in the road, the young ones playing while their elders nibbled at the verge.
All was peace and beauty. She couldn’t believe she’d once been happy living in a city, breathing dust and smoke, without a single blade of grass in sight.
‘Carry your kitbag, miss?’
Startled, she turned to see a tall, broad figure a yard or two behind her, his cigarette glowing red and threatening in the deepening twilight.
‘It – it’s all right, I can manage,’ stammered Cassie, clutching at her kitbag nervously.
But now, the empty countryside was suddenly a place of fear and dread. At once, the rabbits scattered, disappearing in the undergrowth. Cassie hoped she was getting near the barracks, where somebody might hear her yell if this bloke tried it on.
‘Oh, don’t be so daft. Come on, let’s have it.’
The man reached for her kitbag, and Cassie was about to kick him hard where it would hurt, when the yellow moon lit up his features, and she saw he was grinning.
‘Rob, you stupid bugger!’ She glared at him in fury, angry that he’d made her panic, thrilled to see him, knowing she must be blushing like a pillar box, and ready to take a proper swing at him. ‘How long have you been following me?’
‘Since you left the station. I’d been in the buffet all day long, waiting for your train. But then, when you got off, I’d gone across the road to buy another pack of cigarettes, and so I missed you. A porter said he’d seen an ATS girl, she’d marched off up the road all by herself, so I hoped she’d be you.’
‘How did you know I’d come today?’
‘Frances wrote and told me.’
‘Bloody Frances!’ Cassie cried, vowing that when they met again, she’d settle Frances Ashford’s interfering hash once and for all. ‘Why can’t she keep her nose out of my business?’
‘You know Frances,’ Robert said, smiling and hefting Cassie’s kitbag. ‘What the hell is in here, Cass? A hundred tins of spam?’
‘All my stuff, and spares for a motorbike the sergeant back in training camp asked me to take for him.’
‘They weigh a ton,’ said Robert, frowning. ‘Lazy sod, he should have had them properly requisitioned, then sent them down by train – not asked a little thing like you to carry them for him.’
Robert and Cassie walked along the road. Now, Cassie was very glad there was nobody else about, that there was no sign of the barracks, that the only artificial light was from the glow from Robert’s cigarette, and that there was a moon.
‘How have you been getting on?’ asked Robert. ‘Fran said you were doing really well, that you were the star student on your course, and that you passed out top.’
‘She did all right herself,’ said Cassie, blushing.
‘So now you’ll be based in Aldershot? You’re going to be a driver?’
‘Yes, that’s what it looks like.’
‘Excellent,’ said Robert, and he laughed. ‘As soon as I’m a colonel, I’ll put in a request for Private Taylor to drive me all around. Then we can go on secret expeditions.’
‘It’s Lance Corporal Taylor now, if you don’t mind!’ cried Cassie, mortally affronted. ‘Look – I’ve got a stripe.’
‘My goodness, so you have.’ Robert smiled, and then reached out to trace the single chevron sewn on Cassie’s sleeve. ‘Well done, you’re a clever girl.’
‘I’m going to be a sergeant soon, you wait and see.’
‘I’m sure you will.’ Robert’s palm slid down the rough material of Cassie’s khaki jacket, and then he took her hand. He pulled her round to face him. ‘But I think we’ve been waiting long enough.’
He put her kitbag down on to the road.
He threw his cigarette away, and then he took her in his arms, wrapping her inside his army greatcoat so that she was warm against his chest.
Cassie raised her face to his, and to his delight she let him kiss her on the temples, then the mouth, following his lead at first, letting him demand and set the pace.
But very soon she was demanding on her own account, putting her hand behind his head and kissing him herself, encouraging him to kiss her harder, pulling him closer, closer, closer, until he could feel her body pressing up against him, tantalising him.
‘You smell delicious, Cass,’ he said, as he entwined his fingers in her hair.
‘It’s just Amami setting lotion, everybody uses it.’ Cassie smiled seductively at him. ‘You smell gorgeous, too,’ she said. ‘I love the smell of cigarettes on men.’
‘I smoke too much. It makes me cough and wheeze, but I find I can’t do without a fag.’
‘Well, you don’t need one now,’ said Cassie, kissing him again.’
She was right – he didn’t need anything but Cassie now. But, even though she was exciting him, even though he knew he hadn’t felt like this before, he also knew he had to stop himself before things went too far.
‘We must get you to barracks,’ he said softly, as he let her go, reluctantly but knowing he had no choice.,
He found her cap, which had been knocked off and landed upside-down in a deep ditch. He straightened Cassie’s jacket, brushing his hands across her chest, which made him want to kiss her more, to kiss and kiss forever.
‘I suppose so,’ Cassie said.
She knew her speech was slurred. She must be drunk, she thought, but not with alcohol, with happiness. She couldn’t help the silly little smile that played around her mouth. She didn’t want to lose this lovely, floating feeling.
‘Come on, love, duty calls.’ Robert picked up her kitbag. ‘They’ll be wondering what’s become of you. They’ll know the train’s come in, and soon they’ll be sending out the redcaps, to search in all the bushes.’
‘You’re so flipping organised,’ slurred Cassie, as she smoothed her skirt, and tucked her hair behind her ears.
Then it began to rain, and with the downpour she came back to reality. ‘All right, Rob,’ she said bitterly, ‘I get it. You’ve had your bit of early evening fun, so now I can bugger off to barracks. You’ll go back to London, have a pint or two, go picking up some other bird – ’
‘I’ll go back to London, certainly, but I won’t be picking up some bird, as you so elegantly put it.’ Then Robert took his greatcoat off, and draped it over Cassie’s narrow shoulders. ‘Come on, Cass. You’ll get soaked, and so will I. We need to get you to the barracks, and out of all this rain.’
Robert took her hand and started walking, so Cassie was obliged to go with him.
Chapter Seven
‘Jesus Christ, look what the cat dragged in,’ said the NCO on duty, grimacing as Cassie appeared at the guardroom door, soaking wet and shivering in the twilight. ‘
Where’ve you been till this time, eh? We was expecting you at three o’clock this afternoon.’
‘She was delayed.’ Robert loomed out of the murk, dumped Cassie’s kitbag on the guardroom floor, and then stood there dripping on the clean cement. ‘Lance Corporal Taylor is attached to Transport Corps,’ he added, as the startled NCO came briskly to attention. ‘You’ll need someone to take her to her quarters.’
‘Yes, sir,’ rapped the guardroom sergeant, as he saluted Robert, but managed to give the pair of them a dirty look, as well.
A minute later, Cassie was being marched across the square, lugging her heavy kitbag. She glanced over her shoulder, anxious to see if Robert was still there. She couldn’t make him out, so she supposed he must have gone. He’d have a long, wet hike back to the station.
But what on earth had she been doing, smooching in the darkness with him, when she was on duty? If this was what men did to you, she thought, if they made you lose all track of time and totally forget yourself, she didn’t wonder girls got caught, that girls had little accidents. She must make sure he didn’t catch her off her guard again.
‘So you’re an officer’s floozy, eh?’ the corporal muttered, as he marched Cassie to her wooden hut. ‘I know your sort. Officers’ groundsheets, right? The ATS is full of girls like you, too stuck up to go with blokes like us.’
Cassie didn’t comment.
‘You deaf as well as dumb, then?’ The corporal sniffed in scorn. ‘You ain’t goin’ to like it ’ere, milady,’ he continued. ‘The girls in your block, they’re all really rough – a load of thieves and tarts. They’d slit your throat for half a crown.’
Oh, don’t you worry, corporal, I know rough, thought Cassie, although she didn’t think it wise to say.
He hadn’t seen the street where she’d grown up. He hadn’t seen the teenaged tarts who’d slouched and smoked in doorways, seen the gangs of kids who’d wrestle you to the pavement, yank your shoes off, then sell them down the market for a couple of bob.
If it hadn’t been for Lily Taylor, she’d have been a thief or tart herself.
In spite of what the corporal said, Cassie soon made friends and settled down.
The Penny Bangle Page 8