The Dressmakers of London

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Izzie and Grace were standing inside of a deflated balloon, checking seams to make sure there were no tears or weaknesses that would affect its flight, when Alexandra stuck her head into the balloon’s opening.

“Sergeant Delafield is here. She wants to speak to all of us,” said Alexandra, excitement making her beam.

Izzie and Grace exchanged glances at the mention of their commanding officer’s name.

“Is it our orders?” Izzie asked, lowering her voice.

“I think so,” said Alexandra before disappearing.

Izzie picked her way to the entrance, making sure not to catch any fabric. When she stuck her head out, she saw the other girls of their unit standing to attention, Corporal Tennyson and Sergeant Delafield facing them.

“Airwoman Second Class Shelton and Airwoman Second Class March, please put on your boots and join the rest of your unit,” said Corporal Tennyson before nodding to Sergeant Delafield. “Your commanding officer has news for you.”

Izzie and Grace both scrambled to wiggle on their boots. As she laced up, Izzie realized that her heart was in her throat. She and the girls had spent so much time speculating about where they might be dispatched that for it now to be real felt almost strange. Romantic as Egypt might feel to a girl from London, she hoped—prayed even—that the unit would be sent to her hometown or anywhere in the South East. If she was within easy distance, she would be able to pop into the shop and make sure that Sylvia wasn’t running the place into the ground.

That, she realized as she tied off the second knot on her boot and stood, wasn’t really fair. Although they’d clashed about the advertisements, Sylvia had been right to start taking in blackout curtains and uniforms, and Izzie wasn’t too proud to admit that something needed to be done about the shop’s books and that she was glad she hadn’t been the one to do it.

Now properly shod, Izzie fell into line with the rest of her unit.

“I know that you’ve been waiting for your orders,” Sergeant Delafield began. “I wanted to let you know personally that this unit has been selected to help defend north Norfolk at RAF Horsham Saint Faith.”

Norfolk? The bubble of hope that had been forming in Izzie’s stomach burst. Fareham, where RAF Titchfield was, might have been on the edge of Portsmouth Harbor, but at least there were easy trains back to London. Being stationed in East Anglia would send her into an area of the country completely foreign to her.

“Norwich and its surrounding area as well as the Norfolk coast remain of great strategic importance to the RAF,” said Sergeant Delafield. “The Americans have also expressed an interest in setting up air bases there, making it even more of a target for the Luftwaffe.”

A giggle rose up from Lottie at the mention of American GIs. Sergeant Delafield’s eyes narrowed at the interruption, but their commanding officer continued on.

“Remember your training. It will stand you in good stead in the heat of the moment when everything around you seems to be chaos. I suggest that you pack your kit bags carefully, because you have been granted forty-eight hours’ leave,” the sergeant finished.

This time all of the women of the balloon unit broke out into murmurs, and their commanding officer’s cool demeanor cracked into a smile.

“I thought that might be a popular decision,” said Sergeant Delafield. “You will be expected at RAF Horsham Saint Faith on Saturday the fourth of April at eleven o’clock. There you will receive further instructions. Now, if there are no further questions…” Sergeant Delafield’s gaze swept over them. “Good luck.”

“Ladies, there will be time for chatting later,” Corporal Tennyson said, cutting through their excitement. “You have a balloon to check and store. Back to it.”

All of the WAAFs scattered. Izzie and Grace unlaced and pulled off their boots as quickly as they could and climbed back into the balloon to finish their work. As soon as they gave the all-clear, the rest of the unit worked to pack and store the balloon. The feeling of anticipation was palpable as Corporal Tennyson checked their work.

Finally, he said, “All right then. Since Aircraft Woman Second Class Reece looks as though she’ll explode if I don’t let you go.”

“I will, sir,” Lottie reassured him.

“You’re all dismissed,” he said.

Everyone, including Izzie, let up a cheer, and Corporal Tennyson walked off, smiling as he shook his head.

The balloon girls scattered. Lottie went off to say goodbye to her various boyfriends on base with the express intention of extracting promises that the men would come visit her at RAF Horsham St Faith if they ever were in Norfolk. Molly went to collect everyone’s post one last time. The rest of the women, including Izzie, hurried back to their hut.

Izzie didn’t want to waste any time. She had permission for leave, and she intended to use every bit of it.

“Where are you going to go, Nancy?” asked Amelia as they hauled out kit bags onto their beds and began to pack.

“I don’t really know,” said Nancy. “I doubt I’ll be able to make it to York and back in time to make base.”

“Then you’ll come home to Southampton with me. You too, Grace, if you think Northumberland is too far,” said Amelia firmly. “Mum will be delighted to meet you after all of my letters.”

Izzie, who was folding a shirt, saw the faint hint of a smile cross Nancy’s usually stern features.

“What about you, Izzie?” asked Grace. “Are you going home to London?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep Izzie away,” said Alexandra with a laugh.

“Alexandra’s right. I want to go to the shop,” she said.

“And check in on that sister of yours, no doubt,” said Alexandra.

“Letters!” called out Molly as she walked in with the post and began distributing.

“Nothing for me?” asked Nancy.

“Just Amelia, Grace, and me,” said Molly with an apologetic smile. “The girls at the post office said that they’d forward along anything that comes while we’re gone.”

“What are the rest of you London girls going to do with your leave?” asked Amelia.

“I promised my little sister I would visit the first chance I got,” said Molly.

“My parents wrote to tell me they’ve given up the dower house because the army wanted to house some Polish officers there, so they’ve decamped to London,” said Alexandra.

There was a chorus of teasing “ooos,” but Alexandra just laughed. Izzie knew that her friend had been nervous about talking about her family when they’d arrived at RAF Titchfield, so she’d immediately made it clear that Alexandra was her friend and that neither of them cared that one was an earl’s daughter and the other made clothes for a living. It had worked a treat.

“You’ll stay with them then?” asked Nancy.

“One of my brothers, George, is on leave, so I will see him too. I’m almost as excited to clap eyes on him as I am to see this famous dress shop of Izzie’s.”

Izzie paused, the shirt she’d been folding suspended in air. “We only have forty-eight hours. Do you really want to take time away from George and your parents to see my shop?”

“Of course I do. Besides, I thought you could use some moral support going back for the first time.”

She blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Izzie,” said Alexandra indulgently, “that’s what friends do for one another?”

Emotion rose in Izzie’s throat.

“All right,” she said, swallowing hard. “We’ll go.”