Chapter 34
‘There’s something for you on your desk, Bancroft,’ Squadron Officer Mulligan told Bobby when she reported for duty the next day.
‘What is it, ma’am?’
Bobby was finding it hard to get used to being called by her surname, which felt sort of manly, and to addressing the WAAF officers as ‘ma’am’. It sounded so formal and old-fashioned, as if she were a servant in a country house.
Mulligan didn’t look up from what she was writing. If possible, she looked even sterner than usual.
‘Take a look,’ she said.
Bobby approached her desk. On it she found a letter of just a few short sentences. It was addressed to her and signed ‘Sqn Ldr Wm. Gardiner’. That was the RAF commanding officer – the big boss of the camp.
‘It’s your official permission to marry,’ Mulligan said, looking up. ‘And your marriage leave’s been approved as well. You’ll find a signed pass chit underneath.’
Bobby blinked at the letter. ‘Oh.’
‘I’m happy for you to send wires to your family and fiancé, in spite of the ban, so you can inform them. I imagine you’ll have a lot to arrange.’
‘Thank you.’
Bobby felt a little dazed. She had spent so much time thinking about Charlie, worrying about him, both longing for and fearing the day she would discover whether or not any letter had come from him, that she had entirely forgotten seeking permission to wed.
It was decided, then. A firm date could be set – Saturday the 2nd of May. The church could be confirmed, friends could be invited, a small reception arranged, and in a mere fortnight she would find herself a married woman.
But there remained that treacherous whisper: If he still wants me…
‘Is everything all right?’ Mulligan asked.
‘Hmm?’ Bobby pulled herself together. ‘Sorry, Squadron Officer. I hadn’t expected it today, that’s all.’
Mulligan sighed. ‘Come here a moment, Bancroft.’
Bobby hesitated, then went to sit in the chair on the other side of the officer’s desk.
‘Did I do something wrong, ma’am?’ she asked.
Mulligan fixed her in a stern, but not unkind, gaze. ‘That was what I wanted to ask you.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Well, never mind. Is he steady, this young man you’re marrying?’
Bobby thought about this. It wasn’t a word that would have been used to describe the Charlie Atherton she had met eighteen months ago, but he had changed a lot since then.
‘I believe he is, now he’s in the RAF,’ she said.
‘And you love him?’
Bobby was rather taken aback by this question. Had Mulligan called her over to give her a talk on the facts of life? She felt the colour rising to her cheeks at the thought.
‘Very much,’ she said quietly.
‘Good. Good.’
Mulligan fell silent, seemingly lost in thought. Bobby remembered what Carol had said, about the RAF officer Mulligan had been involved with who had ditched her for someone else. It was hard to imagine their stern, pinched-faced commandant in love.
‘Am I to go back to work, ma’am?’ Bobby asked when Mulligan had been quiet some time.
Mulligan roused herself. ‘Not yet. I need to speak to you about something.’
‘What is it?’
The officer met her gaze. ‘Bancroft, I received a request this morning from a young man regarding you and your friends, although I got the sense it was you he was mainly concerned with. The sort of young man it can be hard to say no to – at least, he seemed to think so,’ she said with a tight smile.
‘I did say no to him, however. I’ve been alive too long to fall for the charms of overgrown schoolboys who think they can twist any woman they meet around their little finger. Do you understand?’
‘I’m… not sure.’ Bobby assumed the overgrown schoolboy in question must be Ernie King, although she couldn’t guess where the conversation might be going.
Mulligan shuffled some papers. ‘You’re a steady girl, Bancroft.
I’ve been keeping my eye on you. You didn’t want to join the WAAF and you didn’t want to spend your time typing letters and orders, but you’ve tried hard to do the job that’s in front of you, just as I asked.
I can see this way of life comes harder to you than to the others, yet you’ve given it your utmost. You aren’t one of those giggling idiots who join up just to chase men. ’
‘That’s a little unfair,’ Bobby heard herself saying. That was almost certainly overstepping the bounds between officers and other ranks, but she couldn’t help feeling defensive of the other women.
‘Oh, I don’t only mean your friends,’ Mulligan said, waving a dismissive hand.
‘They’re all like that when they get here, particularly the younger ones.
For many, it’s the first taste of freedom they’ve had in their lives.
They soon settle down. Some of the best WAAFs I know spent their training period acting like it was the last days of Rome.
But I can tell you’re not one of those, Bancroft.
You’re intelligent, you work hard and you’ve got your head screwed on.
’ She met Bobby’s eyes. ‘So I’d hate to see you fall under the spell of some handsome peacock with a glamorous accent practically on the eve of your wedding. ’
Bobby laughed. ‘Oh. I know what you… no, it isn’t like that between Ernie and me. I suppose it is Flying Officer King you mean. We were friends, before. In my civilian life, I mean.’
Mulligan frowned. ‘Friends?’
‘Yes. Just friends, nothing more. He was billeted in my village and we worked together to produce a pantomime for the children. I saw him in our lecture yesterday and he wanted me to meet him in the NAAFI to swap news of mutual friends, but I told him it wouldn’t be allowed.’
‘This is the true state of affairs? He hasn’t made any… propositions? I know he’s become a favourite among the other girls.’
‘That’s truly all. I know the other WAAFs think I’m greener than grass, but I grew up with two brothers and worked in an all-male office for years. Believe me, I’m savvy enough not to fall prey to some wolf.’
For perhaps the first time since she had known her, Bobby saw the commandant smile.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she said. ‘My decision still stands, of course. I can’t make exceptions for individual women. But I’m pleased to hear your relations with Flying Officer King are no more than they ought to be. I must admit, I was concerned for you.’
Bobby smiled warmly back, thinking how easy it could be to misjudge someone.
She had respected Mulligan from the moment she had heard her speech, urging her WAAFs to stand tall against those who might undermine them, but even so, she hadn’t liked her much.
The officer had seemed so cold, so lacking in compassion and kindness, that it had been hard to warm to her on any personal level.
Bobby had been convinced that Mulligan hadn’t liked her much either – ever since her interview, when the officer had seemed to mark her down as a shirker.
But now, Bobby found she had come to rather like ‘old Stewpot’ after all.
There was a human heart beneath the stern crust, if you took the trouble to go hunting for it.
‘That’s good of you, ma’am,’ she said. ‘But honestly, there’s no need to worry. Flying Officer King is a friend, and I can assure you that’s all he ever will be. May I return to work?’
‘There was one more thing,’ Mulligan said. ‘You have family nearby, I think?’
‘Yes, in Silverdale. Why do you ask?’
‘I wanted to enquire how you’d feel about staying on here, after your basic training is complete. I’ve been impressed with the work you’ve done for me, and HQ tell me it will be at least a month until they can send a replacement for Corporal Hudson.’
‘She isn’t coming back?’
‘No. I understand her husband’s injury means he now requires constant care.
She’s to be discharged on compassionate grounds.
’ Mulligan leaned towards her. ‘I know this isn’t what you wanted to be doing, and I won’t press if you’d prefer to move on with the other girls after passing out.
But it would allow you to spend a little more time near your family, and…
well, if you still had your heart set on being a plotter, I could help you get a place on a suitable training course.
You’ve a good brain in that head, Bancroft.
Whatever your trade, I can see a bright future for you in the WAAF. ’
Bobby considered this. That word, ‘future’, jarred her rather. It still felt like such a hazy, will-o’-the-wisp idea. No sooner had it started to take on a form then a gust of wind came and turned it back into mist.
Don had been right: Bobby was bored in her new work, however necessary it might be for the smooth running of the RAF.
There was so little to occupy her brain in the daily mindless transcription of militaryese, learning how to operate the camp teleprinter, sorting post, filing records in the orderly room and other admin tasks that were the lot of the WAAF general clerk.
The thought of doing it for several hours every day felt mind-numbing.
Nevertheless, the option to remain close to her family for a little longer was appealing.
And Mulligan was offering her the chance to do something truly important when her time here was up – something that could save lives, and perhaps even help turn the tide of the war.
‘Thank you,’ she said at last. ‘I’d like that very much.’
Three days passed, each one seeing another mark added to the tally in Hut 17. Eventually, on Saturday morning, there were thirteen marks on the board – the penultimate day of their isolation.
Bobby could feel her body vibrating with nervous tension.
Of course she was desperate to know how Lil, Tony and her father were getting along at the cow house.
She was keen to learn from Mary how preparations were going for the arrival of Captain Parry, and she hoped there might be a letter from Topsy.
But it was Charlie, and the prospect of one or more letters from him, that kept her heart perpetually in her mouth.