Polly's Angel (42 page)

Tad went into the canteen and took his place in the queue at the counter behind another fitter, Phil Dunlop. Phil turned and grinned at him. ‘Finished? I bet that kite's fair shinin' with every little nut and bolt looking like burnished silver! Coming into town later? I know you've got some little gal tucked away there, you dirty old Irishman! Who is she? Do you get your oats there? Is that why you aren't seein' so much of Maisie?'

Tad gave his companion a good-humoured swipe then picked up a plate from the pile and checked that his irons were in his pocket; they were. ‘There's a girl I grew up wit', she's with HMS
Bee
,' he said carefully. ‘I'm – I'm keepin' an eye on her, like, to see she don't get into mischief. I know her parents, and they – they expect me to see she stays on the right side of the law.'

It did not sound too convincing, even to Tad himself, but no one, not even a pal like Phil, could be told about his feelings for Polly – indeed, when she was at her most aggravating, he was none too sure of those feelings himself. All he knew, in fact, was that he could not bear the thought of any other feller with his arms round her, even if she was not precisely his girl – especially not that Sunny bloke.

‘You? A guardian of decent girls? God awmighty, them parents can't know you very well, Tad! If I were a dad I'd take precious good care you din't get too close to no gal of mine, I'm tellin' you straight! Why, I'd as soon give a nice little lamb chop to old Bowser to keep safe!'

Tad grinned. Old Bowser was an enormous alsatian, one of a pair who paraded the perimeter track by night, making sure that no unauthorised person got too near the aircraft. Both dogs were friendly enough with the personnel on the station, old Bowser would probably have helped a spy to climb up into the nearest kite provided that same spy gave him a chunk of meat first.

‘You shouldn't say such t'ings about the ould feller,' Tad said now, reprovingly. ‘That dog had a bad puppyhood, his handler telled me so. Why, he was half-starved until he was six months old, so naturally he'll do – well, anything – for a snack.'

‘And you'd do anything to have your way wit' some pretty little WRN,' Phil said. ‘Wouldn't we all?'

Tad said nothing but held out his plate for sausages, then moved along to the WAAF cook who was hurling spoonfuls of mashed potato on to the plates as though she had a personal grudge against it. How did Phil know I had a girl in Holyhead, Tad wondered. Then, sighing, told himself that Anglesey was a small island and Holyhead a small port. Everyone knew everyone else's business sooner or later, plainly someone had seen him with Polly. And anyway, he was glad enough to have been seen with her, because she looked so very pretty in her uniform, with her cheeky little sailor hat tipped over her eyes and her bell bottoms hugging her neat and rounded bottom. Of course she only wore her bell bottoms when she was working, but that was how he liked to think of her, tearing down the Turkey Shore Road with her hat seemingly stuck on to her curls and her slim legs going like pistons, whilst the bundles of documents she held under one arm flapped in the breeze of her going.

But anyway, even if she was working he would quite likely see her this afternoon. The girls were allowed far more latitude in the WRNS than in the WAAF, and Polly would deliver her messages, whatever they might be, and then come down to the shore. If he could find her they could have a cup of tea and a bun with him without anyone being any the wiser. She was his friend still, he knew that, but he sometimes worried a bit that it was really his motorbike that she was interested in rather than himself. She was desperate to become a WRN despatch rider and not just a messenger, and as soon as she had discovered that he owned a motorbike she had begun to pester him to teach her how to ride it. She was pretty good already, and liked nothing more than to persuade him to take her to some quiet country road, or to a hard, deserted beach, so that she might practise on the bike. Tad wondered sometimes just how Polly would explain her sudden ability to ride a motorbike to the Powers that Be, for she intended to apply for a despatch rider's job just as soon as she felt she was proficient. Knowing Polly, however, he thought ruefully, she would work something out in time – something which was both convincing yet not too far from the truth. In the meantime, if teaching her to ride his bike was his best way to keep close to her, then teach her he would.

‘It's treacle duff for afters,' Phil said as he received a spoonful of overcooked cabbage and turned away from the counter. ‘Grab the Flag, old feller, I can't face sawdust sausages without a good covering of sauce.'

‘Right,' Tad said, obediently picking up the nearest sauce bottle and heading for the long table where most of the flight mechs seemed to have gathered. ‘Treacle duff, eh? I thought I could smell something good!'

Polly and Diane had the afternoon off, so since it was a brilliant day, they had agreed to cycle over to Treaddur Bay for a swim. They met at Llys-y-Gwynt soon after two o'clock and set off together, Diane on a hired bicycle, down the long hill which would lead them on to London Road. They saw Tad from afar as they were skimming down the hill, with their hats on the extreme backs of their heads, though only Polly recognised him. ‘It's me pal Tad,' she shouted to Diane above the breeze. ‘He'll be coming over to give me a lesson on the motorbike, I daresay. Oh, damn, and I was looking forward to a swim, so I was. What'll I do, Di?'

Diane managed to shrug, not easy on a speeding bicycle. ‘Tell him you can't play this afternoon,' she advised. ‘After all, Poll my little parrot, you and I have planned this swim ever since the beginning of the week. You wouldn't let me down, would you?'

‘'Course not,' Polly said rather indignantly, the more so, perhaps, because she had definitely considered, just for a moment, begging Diane to let her off their planned expedition. She did so love the excitement of riding the motorbike and knew that Tad did not find it as easy to get time off as they did. ‘Only he doesn't get as much time off as we do . . . so could he come along with us this afternoon, d'you t'ink?'

‘He'll spoil it,' Diane said grimly, slowing to a halt as they reached the corner since Tad was now fast approaching along London Road. ‘Besides, I don't like swimming in front of an audience. Tell him to come back another day.'

Polly giggled. Diane was a superb swimmer, very much better than her but Diane was going to be wearing her old school swimsuit which was decidedly skimpy in the bust region and, since it was made of black wool, rather baggy around the bottom. Diane had applied to her important relatives several times for a newer, roomier costume – well, roomier in certain areas, and tighter in others, Polly reminded herself – but so far they had been unable to come up with the goods. I expect all the swimwear factories are making diving suits or something, Polly told herself vaguely as Tad drew to a halt beside them and pulled off his forage cap. Still, no use being silly about it. Oh dear, thought Polly. If I tell Tad where we're going he'll come along, invited or not, and he'll see Diane's suit and won't give a thought to it, knowing Tad. Indeed, she privately thought, in some dismay, that Tad might very much enjoy the view, for the sight of Diane overflowing from her swimsuit was the sort of spectacle that most red-blooded young men would appreciate, she felt sure.

‘Afternoon, girls,' Tad said politely as the girls drew their steeds to a halt beside him. ‘Not going anywhere special, are you? Only I thought as it was a nice day, like, that Polly might be able to have a lesson on me old bike.'

‘Oh, did you?' Diane said with more than a touch of sarcasm. ‘Well, as it happens Polly and myself have a – a previous engagement. But no doubt she'd enjoy a lesson on your motorbike if you gave her some warning, and didn't just turn up as though she'd never got anything better to do.'

‘Nasty, nasty,' Tad said with what seemed to be unimpaired cheerfulness, though Polly saw a slight flush steal across his cheekbones. ‘I would have rung up, only she's hardly ever available during the day and I didn't know I was going to be free today until quite late on. I've been servicing kites all morning, but I got through sooner than I expected, and it's a lovely day . . .'

‘I'll be free this evening,' Polly said quickly. ‘In fact, by teatime, probably. Only I did promise Di . . .'

‘Oh, it's just the two of you, then?' Tad said. ‘Just going for a bike ride, are you? If so, why can't I tag along?'

‘Because you go a good deal faster than us, and we were planning a quiet afternoon, just the two of us,' Diane said in her crispest, most authoritarian voice. ‘Honestly, airman—'

‘If you tell me where you're going, I could be there ahead of you,' Tad said. He looked hard at the carriers of their bikes and clearly realised that the bundles so neatly strapped into place were towels. ‘Oh, going swimming, eh? Now there's nothing I like better than seeing two beautiful girls takin' to the water . . . but I'm prepared to put up wit' watching the two of you, since it seems that's all that's on offer.'

Even Polly felt this was a bit cheeky, but rather to her surprise Diane giggled and surrendered, though not with very good grace. ‘All right, all right,' she said, hitching herself on to the saddle of her borrowed bike and scooting forward a few paces.

‘We're going to Treaddur Bay for a swim and I suppose I can't stop you coming along. But if you do, airman, you can bloody well swim too, then we shan't feel silly.'

Tad grinned and roared off but Polly, mounting her own bicycle, said: ‘But he's not got bathing drawers wit' him, Di. He'll probably want to swim in the altogether, and I don't fancy that at all, at all.'

It was Diane's turn to grin. ‘He might swim in the altogether if it was just you and himself, my dear girl, but he won't attempt to do so with me present,' she assured her friend. ‘He'll probably come in in his horrible Air Force undies, whatever they may be. Why, it might be an even more interesting experience for you and I than it will be for him. Cheeky sod, making it just about impossible for us to freeze him off!'

‘Oh well,' Polly said peaceably, pedalling away. ‘I've always wanted the two of you to get better acquainted, so I have, and it looks as though me wish is about to be granted.'

When the two girls reached the beach it was to find Tad's motorcycle propped up against the sea wall whilst Tad himself was already in the sea and swimming strongly.

‘Showing off,' Diane said icily, changing amongst the rocks on the right-hand side of the bay. ‘Well, let's hope he stays well out there whilst we go in.'

Presently, respectably, if scantily clad, the two of them ran down to the waves and splashed in, shouting as the cold salt sea gradually rose to chest level. Further out, Tad did a graceful duck-dive, which caused Polly to squeak.

‘Oh janey, Di, it's nekkid he is,' she gasped, turning her back on Tad in considerable confusion. ‘How does he dare? Ooh, I do think he's awful!'

‘I expect he's wearing his underpants,' Diane said, though without total conviction. ‘Where is he now?'

‘Over by the island . . . don't
look
, Diane, he'll think we're awful strange if we look.'

‘Well, at least it'll stop him looking at us,' Diane owned. ‘If he really is bare, that is. Oh come on, forget him and enjoy your swim.'

‘Ye-es, but he hasn't got a towel,' Polly moaned presently, after doing some fancy strokes in the cool, salty water. ‘If he shakes like a dog I'm goin' to die of embarrassment, so I am. I know he's me pal, but I'll never look him in the face again, I swear it.'

‘It isn't his face you'll be looking at,' Diane said, giggling. ‘He's a marvellous swimmer, though, isn't he? When he does the crawl he looks like a steam tug he moves so fast.'

‘And splashily,' Polly said with a shiver. ‘I'm going out now, Di. If he comes near us—'

‘He's coming over,' Diane said. ‘Not that I care.' But she began to retreat towards the beach nevertheless, whilst Tad came on faster, until he was near enough to speak to them.

‘Why don't you come out a bit further?' he shouted. ‘It's marvellous out here, and it's always easier to swim wit' a bit of depth under you. Well, Polly O'Brady, I never knew you were a water-funk until now!'

‘I am nothin' of the sort,' Polly shouted back, stung by the remark. ‘It's just . . . What are you wearin', Tad Donoghue? Because we aren't goin' to get ourselves court-martialled through bathin' wit' a bare airman!'

‘Come and see,' Tad said provocatively. ‘Come on, the pair of yiz, unless you're both yeller as – as flag irises!'

Diane turned her shoulder on him but Polly, enraged by such remarks, splashed back into the sea again, launched herself forward, and began to forge her way towards Tad in a rapid sidestroke. When she got near enough she trod water, staring at her old pal, whereupon he did a porpoise leap out of the water and back in again, revealing that he was clad in a pair of skimpy but respectable underpants.

‘Well, I didn't think you'd be out here swimmin' in your birthday suit,' she said untruthfully. ‘Only I didn't see what else you could have found to bathe in. Glory be to God, Tad, you'll be horribly wet and soggy when you have to get yourself dressed.'

‘Shan't. I'm gettin' out now, and I'll lie on the rocks until I dry off,' Tad said complacently. He gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Hey, didn't I have the pair of you in a state, then? Frightened to see something you weren't supposed to see, and thinkin' me a shameless sort of feller!'