Chapter 37
The dance in the NAAFI canteen was to begin at seven p.m. It was the last thing Bobby was in the mood for, but since she could tell Mike wasn’t going to let her get out of it, she made herself presentable in best blues and a pair of contraband silk stockings.
Mike had assured her a blind eye was always turned to a few luxuries that would allow them to feel more feminine at social events.
Bobby was hoping that after half an hour, her friends would be so caught up in the party that she could slip out and retire to bed to cry in peace.
By the time she, Carol, Dilys and Mike arrived, the party was in full swing. WAAF recruits were taking full advantage of their new freedom, hurling themselves around with the airmen while a gramophone blared out ‘Deep in the Heart of Texas’.
Everyone seemed to have a bottle of beer, and the air was heavy with smoke. As they entered, winks and wolf whistles greeted them from a gaggle of men still without partners. Since these were mere recruits, however, Mike silenced them with a withering look of contempt.
‘I told you we should’ve got here early, Mike,’ Carol muttered, glaring at the WAAFs already dancing. ‘Now this lot have had first choice of the men.’
‘They’re only dancing with erks,’ Mike said dismissively. She nodded to a table where three male officers were seated. ‘There’s your man, look. And he’s generously brought friends for us.’
Bobby hung back when she saw Ernie.
‘Can’t we find a table just for us?’ she asked. ‘You know Mulligan doesn’t approve of other ranks getting chummy with officers.’
‘Are you joking?’ Carol turned disbelieving eyes on her. ‘We need to get in there, before someone else snatches them.’
‘You go. I’ll get us drinks or something.’
‘No you won’t, they’ll get us drinks. That’s the whole point.’ Carol took her arm. ‘Besides, we need you. You’re the one who knows him. If we stand about nonchalantly, he might ask us to join them.’
In fact they didn’t need to stand around. Ernie had spotted them and stood to wave them over.
‘Slacks. Hey,’ he called. ‘Free at last, huh? Why don’t you and your pals sit with us?’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ Carol said, trying and failing to sound aloof. ‘We were just going to buy drinks.’
‘Nonsense,’ said one of the other men: a startlingly blond pilot officer with a clipped moustache who wore the half-brevet of an observer. ‘Won’t hear of it. Carter, go get these young ladies some drinks. Everyone shuffle up and make room.’
Carter, the youngest of the three and clearly used to this sort of treatment, rolled his eyes as he stood to obey.
‘What are you ladies having?’ he asked. ‘There’s beer or… well, more beer. That’s rather it, I’m afraid.’
Mike smiled. ‘We’re all happy with beer. Thank you.’
He looked at the men. ‘I don’t suppose one of you lazy blighters is going to help me carry them?’
‘Oh, there’s no need for anyone else to get up,’ Dilys said, blushing a little. ‘I can help.’
‘Righty-ho,’ Carter said jovially. ‘Back soon, chaps.’
Bobby hung back, waiting for Mike and Carol to draw over some chairs so Carol could claim the spot next to Ernie. He had already stood up to let the women sit down, however, and when they were seated he pulled up a chair beside Bobby. He looked at her curiously.
‘What?’ she said. She wondered if her eyes were still red. She had bathed them in cold water for ages to hide the signs of her crying fit earlier, and Mike had employed all of her skill with make-up, but Ernie King seemed to have a knack for spotting when things weren’t right with her.
‘I’m not sure,’ he said quietly. He raised his voice.
‘Well, boys, shall I make the introductions? This is Aircraftwoman Bobby Bancroft, an old friend of mine.’ He paused.
‘And in fact, I don’t know the names of these other ladies.
Sorry. I’m not really sure why I offered to make the introductions. ’
The blond officer laughed. ‘Honestly, Canada, you’re hopeless. Alfie Stone. Pleased to meet you, ladies.’ He took Mike’s hand, who was nearest him, and pressed it to his lips.
‘Carol Boyes,’ Carol said eagerly, thrusting her hand in Ernie’s direction. She looked hopeful he might kiss it, but Ernie just gave it a polite shake.
‘I’m Mike,’ Mike said. ‘And our friend is Dilys.’
‘Mike,’ said the blond pilot officer, Alfie. ‘Doesn’t suit you a bit. What’s it short for?’
Mike smiled. ‘Ask me to dance and I might whisper it to you.’
‘I will too, by Jove,’ Alfie said, grinning. ‘Come on then.’
He jumped up to lead her to the dance floor, leaving the others blinking after them.
‘Your friend’s a fast mover,’ Ernie observed.
‘She says that in war, there’s no time to waste,’ Bobby said. ‘We all have to cram months into minutes.’
Now it was only the three of them, Carol’s eyebrows seemed to have taken on a life of their own. They danced up and down in Bobby’s direction, with the clear message that three was a crowd.
‘Um, I have to go,’ Bobby said, starting to rise. ‘I just spotted a friend on the other side of the hut. I should say hello.’
‘Oh, no. Not when I’ve finally got a hold of you.’ Ernie put a hand on her shoulder. ‘At least stay and have one drink. Never mind friends over there. You’ve got a friend here you’re long overdue a conversation with.’
‘Well… all right,’ she said, sinking back into her seat.
Carol glared at her, but Bobby wasn’t sure what other excuse she could conjure that wouldn’t sound terrifically rude.
Dilys and the young officer, Carter, arrived with a tray of bottled beers.
‘Now here’s someone who can claim a mutual acquaintance with you,’ Ernie said to Bobby. ‘Young Carter’s been on this base ever since he was pulled from active service. He’s taught a lot of recruits how to fly, haven’t you, Carter?’
‘I’ve taught my share,’ Carter said, with pardonable pride. ‘King tells me you’re engaged to Charlie Atherton. Top man, that. Pleased to hear he’s doing well.’
Bobby felt tears rise at the mention of the name, and she looked away. Carter frowned; Ernie blinked. Dilys had noticed something was wrong too. She stared at Bobby, and, with studied casualness, knocked over her drink.
Carter jumped up as beer dripped from the table, and Bobby shot her friend a look of gratitude.
‘Oh my, I am so clumsy,’ Dilys said, with a good impression of horror. She set the bottle upright and took out a handkerchief to dab at the puddle. ‘Did any get on your uniform, Danny?’
‘No, you missed me,’ Carter said with a smile. ‘But now you haven’t got a drink. You must let me get you another.’
‘That’s all right, I only spilt a little.’ Dilys glanced at Mike and Alfie dancing. ‘Besides, I’d rather dance than drink.’ She flushed. ‘I mean, if you wanted to dance.’
‘Best offer I’ll get all night,’ Carter said, laughing, and they, too, disappeared.
Bobby had her tears under control now, but it was too late. Ernie had seen, and was once again regarding her curiously.
‘Any news from home?’ he asked her.
‘Yes, I had a few letters today,’ Bobby said. ‘One from the Nowaks. Topsy was telling me all about the new arrivals – the goslings, I mean.’
Carol blinked. ‘You mean, like, baby geese?’
‘Yes. Her…’ Bobby paused, wondering how best to describe Mrs Hobbes. ‘Her foster mother has a pet goose. Norman. He’s a cantankerous old thing, but he finally found a lady goose who’d have him. He was page boy at Topsy’s wedding recently.’
‘Your friend had a goose for a page boy?’
Bobby laughed. ‘If you knew Topsy, I promise that would make perfect sense.’
Ernie smiled, his eyes cloudy with nostalgia. ‘They were happy times, weren’t they? Working on the pantomime with her and you and the old lady, watching Archie and Sandy play the fool while that feathery horror Norman glared at us. Sure took the edge off flying ops.’
Bobby sighed. ‘We talked about doing Dick Whittington this Christmas, didn’t we? But the war seems to have other plans for us.’
‘You know, there was a time I thought I’d never be happy on this wretched, soggy little island,’ Ernie said.
‘All I wanted was to go home and shake the dirt of it off my heels for good. But it creeps up on you, this place. The Dales, I mean. One day you wake up and realise that in spite of the rain and the grumpy natives and all the dashed sheep, it’s become a part of you. ’
‘I don’t see what’s so special about the Dales,’ Carol said, sounding sulky about this conversation she couldn’t play a full part in. ‘I bet Canada’s a thousand times more beautiful.’
‘Yeah, it’s a hell of a country,’ Ernie said. ‘But a piece of me will always be here, I think, wherever I drag my tired old bones to after the war – if I get to the end of it.’
There was a moment’s silence after this sober reflection, Ernie and Bobby alone with their thoughts and Carol looking increasingly annoyed at being left out. She was waggling her eyebrows again, but Bobby paid no attention.
‘You going to go home then, now you’re allowed out?’ Ernie asked Bobby.
Bobby nodded. ‘Next Saturday. Mulligan said she’d sign a pass for me.’
‘I’m going back too, the day after tomorrow. I’ve a few days of leave due and I’d like to deliver my congratulations to the new Mr and Mrs Topsy personally.’
Bobby smiled. ‘You’re right, that is what they ought to be called.’
Ernie took out a cigarette and lit it. ‘So how are you finding the Air Force, girls?’
‘I think it’s whizzo,’ Carol said, eagerly seizing on a subject she knew about. ‘The best service by a mile. Although I do think the Canadian uniforms are so much nicer than the RAF ones.’
‘They’re practically identical.’
‘Yes, but they look better, somehow.’
‘How about you, Slacks?’ Ernie asked.
‘What is this “Slacks” all about?’ Carol demanded, peevish at once again having failed to secure his undivided attention.
Ernie laughed. ‘When I met your friend, I don’t think I saw her in anything but pants for months. I was starting to wonder if she had legs at all.’
‘You’re so right. Women ought to be feminine,’ Carol said, nodding sagely, but Ernie had once again turned his attention to Bobby.
‘So?’ he said. ‘Think you’ll stick with us for the duration, Aircraftwoman Slacks?’
‘I don’t suppose I have a choice,’ Bobby said. ‘I can’t help feeling sort of… wrong about it though. Like I’m lacking a sense of purpose here. But I am trying to find my place.’
‘It’s a man’s domain, war. We can dress you dolls up like airmen, but it is just that, at the end of the day: dressing up. Trying to make a place for you where none ought to be.’
‘But it isn’t the other dolls – I mean, women,’ Bobby said. ‘It’s just me. I don’t fit, somehow.’
‘You’re not enjoying military life then?’
‘Well, some of it. I like the people I’ve met,’ she said, with a smile for Carol that did little to appease her friend’s bad mood. ‘And the route marches. Even when they’re wet, they’re my favourite part of the day.’
Ernie laughed. ‘Seriously? I’ve never met an airman who wouldn’t give his right arm to fling those accursed route marches into the sea.’
Carol nodded. ‘That’s what I think. Rotten, damp, dirty things.’
‘They make me feel like I’m at home,’ Bobby said dreamily. ‘You can see right over the fells – almost as far as Silverdale.’
‘You should see it from the air,’ Ernie said. ‘Now that’s something. I do it every day, teaching the sprog pilots how to handle their bombers, but it still blows me away.’
‘Oh, I wish I could!’ she said, turning wide eyes on him. ‘That must be heavenly.’
He narrowed one eye. ‘Hey, that’s not a bad idea. How’d you like to come up with me for a joyride sometime?’
‘No, thanks all the same,’ Carol said, although the invitation hadn’t really been addressed to her. ‘I get sick from heights.’
‘Would that be allowed?’ Bobby asked Ernie.
‘Well, not exactly, but brass turn a blind eye to the occasional flip as long as there’s an officer to take responsibility. I know Gardiner secretly thinks it does you girls good to see what it’s all about up there. Seems only right we baptise you properly if you’re to carry the name of airwoman.’
‘You really think it would be all right?’
‘Sure. I’m doing a training flight tomorrow. Why don’t you come along?’
‘I’d love to, if it’s not going to get us into trouble.’
A young RAF recruit approached them, looking sheepish.
‘Sorry, but would one of you girls like to dance?’ he asked. ‘All my mates have got a partner and I feel daft on my own.’
Carol glanced at Ernie, hesitated, then shrugged.
‘I will. Might as well.’ She drained her beer and stood up. ‘Come on then, sonny.’