The Grafton Girls (21 page)

When he followed her to the Jeep she wasn’t sure if it was relief or hunger that was making her feel sick.

They travelled several miles before he finally broke the silence, demanding coldly, ‘Tell me something. Does everyone in this country hate our guts, or—’

‘It’s your own fault that people react to the American forces the way they do,’ Diane stopped him defensively, suddenly all her own pent-up feelings rushing to be voiced. ‘You’re supposed to be our allies but you behave more as though you’re some kind of occupying force. You treat us with contempt, and you brag about how much better you think you are than us. You call us shabby, and badly dressed, you hate our food and our
roads, and our weather. We’ve all heard GIs calling our soldiers cowards for running away at Dunkirk, and we’ve heard you saying our flag should be red, white and yellow. You talk about winning the war for us, as if we haven’t done anything or achieved any victories. Well, for what it’s worth, what we think of you is that you’re a bunch of arrogant and ignorant idiots, that you’re boastful braggers who don’t even know what it’s like to fight, and who don’t have what it takes to see that if we look poor and down at heel, if we don’t have much food, and our homes are shabby, it’s because here in this country we believe actions speak louder than words, and what we’re doing, why we’re going without, is because of what we believe in. We don’t need Americans to tell us the importance of freedom, as though it’s something they invented, and we don’t need people like you looking down your nose at us with contempt…sir!’ she finished as she ran out of breath.

Now, with the adrenalin rush of anger that had fuelled her outburst depleted, she recognised miserably that she had behaved dreadfully and broken every rule in the book, which would no doubt now be thrown at her, resulting in her spending the rest of the war on a charge. But she didn’t care. It would be worth it, Diane told herself defiantly.

‘Finished, have you?’

Diane looked away from him.

‘Because if you have, here are one or two things I’d like to say to you,
soldier.
First off, I’m one man, not the whole of the American forces. Second,
no way have I ever considered myself to be part of an occupying force. Third, for what it’s worth, what I personally think of the British people and their country is—’

‘None of my business – I know,’ Diane cut in smartly.

‘What I think of the British people and their country is that their bravery grabs me by the throat and humbles me; that every time I see a person in the street, wearing clothes that look worn and shabby, it brings home to me the sacrifices this country and its people are making in the name of freedom. Fourth, if you ever, ever speak to me like that again, your backside will be so sore you won’t sit down for a week.’

Outraged, Diane spun round. ‘You have no right—’ she began, but he would not let her continue.

‘I have every man’s right to defend myself and my honour.’

‘By physical violence to a woman? Your wife may—’

‘My wife would never soil her pretty painted lips with the kind of talk I’ve just had from you, nor her head with such aggressive thoughts,’ he told her brusquely. ‘She’s a Southern belle, who never forgets that fact. And another thing…’

Diane waited warily.

‘I’m getting a little tired of calling you “soldier” – Diane, and since it looks like we’re going to be working together for the next week or so, you’d better call me Lee.’

‘Yes, sir…Lee…’ Diane amended huskily. She couldn’t believe now that she had ripped up at him in the way she had, and she certainly couldn’t believe that he had let her get away with it. As for his comments about what he thought of Britain and its people…She blinked quickly. She wasn’t going to make even more of an idiot of herself, was she?

‘Right,
food
…’ the major announced firmly.

It wasn’t until Diane saw the base looming up in front of them that she realised where he was taking her.

‘But this is—’

‘Burtonwood,’ he finished for her. ‘I guess it seemed easier to come back here than to keep on searching for a pub to serve us.’

The checkpoint was in front of them, the men on guard duty saluting as he stopped the Jeep.

‘Major Saunders,’ he told them, showing them his pass. ‘The soldier here is my guest.’

Diane’s hand was trembling as she produced her own ID, but neither of the soldiers on guard showed by so much as the flicker of an eyelid that they found anything strange in her presence with the major.

Even so, she still protested, ‘I’m not sure I shouldn’t be doing this,’ as they were waved through.

‘You’re forces personnel and since I’m vouching for you there’s no problem with you being on the base.’

Although, of course, like everyone else, she had heard about the work being done at Burtonwood to prepare it for the arrival of the Eighth Army, and equip it as an operational headquarters, which would include a combat crew replacement centre, a gunnery school, a quartermaster’s depot, and a supply and maintenance depot – in other words, a major support base for men and machinery -she hadn’t realised just how huge the base was going to be.

In the clear light of the summer evening it seemed to stretch for miles, with its runways and its buildings, and although she didn’t want to admit it, Diane felt slightly overwhelmed by its size, and its Americanness. It had only been in the aftermath of the attack on Pearl Harbor that America had sent over men, its own engineer battalions and their equipment, to help the British working to build the new airfields from which the Eighth Army would bomb the enemy. The results of their arrival and the work they had done were certainly plain to be seen here.

It seemed an age before Major Saunders finally pulled up outside a newly built, anonymous-looking building – anonymous, that was, until Diane saw the words ‘Officers Only’ above the doorway.

‘We can get something to eat here,’ the major told her. ‘I’m not saying how good it will be -how good it tastes is likely to depend on how hungry you are.’

‘I can’t go in there,’ Diane protested.

When he frowned she pointed out stiffly, ‘It says “Officers Only”.’

‘You’ll be going in as my guest,’ he told her curtly. ‘Officers are permitted to take guests in.’

Maybe they were, but that didn’t stop what looked like a roomful of men in American uniform bearing high-ranking insignia turning to look at her as she and Major Saunders walked in, their curiosity making her feel very much an interloper. Without realising she was doing so, Diane moved closer to the major, but it was only when he put his hand beneath her elbow to guide her across the room that she realised how intimate and inviting her own gesture must have seemed. It was too late to regret it now, though.

‘Lee!’ a tall man with grey grizzled hair called out, leaving the table where he had been playing cards to come over to them.

On his jacket Diane could see the stripes denoting his status, and consequently wasn’t surprised to hear the major respond to his greeting with a respectful, ‘Colonel, good to see you again.’

‘No need for any of that colonel stuff, Lee. I’d heard you were based here. Long time no see. How’s Carrie?’

‘She’s fine thanks, Dwight. She’s decided to see the war out in Charleston with her folks.’

‘Mimi’s doin’ the same. She’s taken the kids to Virginia; her folks have a farm there. So how are you doin’? I’d heard you’ve been made up to major, by the way. Congratulations.’

‘Thanks. Let me introduce Diane Wilson to you.
She’s with the British WAAF and based at Derby House in Liverpool. I’ve been dragging her all over the country today, taking notes whilst I checked out the accommodation we’ve been offered for the top brass, and now I’ve brought the poor girl back here for a canteen meal.’

‘Sure nice to meet you, Diane.’

Diane was caught off guard in mid-salute when he extended his hand to shake hers.

‘Dwight here is an old buddy of mine,’ the major explained.

‘Not so much of the old, if you don’t mind,’ the colonel joked.

‘He was my platoon major when I started out.’

‘Yeah, and, fool that I was, I went and gave you top marks. Don’t let him sweet-talk you any, Diane. This guy’s a soldier first, second and third. Ask his wife.’

Diane wasn’t quite sure exactly what kind of warning she was being given, but the smile that accompanied it seemed genuine enough.

‘The last I heard you were on reconnaissance, Lee, so how come you’re sorting out accommodation; missed too many Luftwaffe have you?’ the colonel joked.

‘I’m in charge of organising the reconnaissance training for our pilots, as they come over. What about you? I didn’t know you were over here.’

‘Well, I’m not really. They’ve put me with the Ninth out in the field, but I had some leave so I thought I’d spend a few days in London. Have you been there yet?’

The major shook his head.

‘Well, you must go. Look, I’ll give you the address of this hotel where I stayed…Have you got a pen?’

As the major reached into his jacket and removed his wallet, opening it, Diane caught a glimpse of the photograph it held. If that was his wife, and it must be, she certainly was very beautiful – and maybe it was the photograph that gave that hardness to her eyes that belied her smile. Whatever the case, it was none of her business, and it was foolish of her to feel such an instinctive dislike for a woman she didn’t even know.

‘More coffee?’

‘I couldn’t,’ Diane told the major truthfully, putting her hand on her stomach. ‘I’m too full.’ No wonder the Americans derided British rations if they ate like this every day, she reflected, thinking of the huge steak she had been served, along with fried onions, tomatoes, mushrooms, sweetcorn and chips – or French fries, as the Americans called them – followed by apple pie and ice cream.

‘Fine. Well, if you’re ready to leave, I’ll go and organise some transport for you.’

‘Don’t go to any trouble. Anything will do, just so long as it gets me back.’

Not for the world was she going to let him think she was disappointed because he wasn’t driving her back himself.

‘I’ll sort out a Jeep and a driver. Wait here.’

‘There’s no need for that. Surely there’s a bus,
or…’ she began, but the major was already walking away from her.

When he returned five minutes later he was accompanied by a young private.

‘Charlie here will drive you back,’ he told her. ‘I recognise that you’ve worked well over your hours today. I’ll have a word with your captain and let her know that you’ll be owed some extra leave.’

Diane nodded. What was the matter with her? Anyone would think that she wanted to stay here with him, the way she was hanging around.

‘Hey, Lee, wanna come and join us for a hand of poker?’

Diane exhaled unsteadily when she saw Dwight coming over to clap the major on the shoulder and draw him away with him. She was glad really, of course. The kind of enforced intimacy they had shared today wasn’t something she wanted with any man other than Kit, much less an American.

‘So the wedding’s all arranged then, Ruthie?’ Jess asked.

They were on their dinner break, and Ruthie pulled a face at the watery stew they had been served before shaking her head.

‘We’ve seen the vicar and we’ve sorted out the church hall, and Glen has asked Walter to be his best man, like I told you he was going to do. And, of course, you’re going to be my bridesmaid, and we’re all going to meet up in town to talk about everything. Not that we’ll be able to have the banns read or anything yet, though.’ She pulled a small face. ‘I hadn’t realised, but with Glen being an American we’ve got to be given permission to get married by the US Army and that means that I’ve got to go to Burtonwood and be interviewed by his CO or the army chaplain.’

‘Interviewed – to marry a ruddy GI?’ Mel cut in, outraged. ‘That just shows what this country’s coming to. I’ve said all along that the Yanks act like they’re doing us a favour by being here and
now you’re saying that you’ve got to go and be inspected before they’ll let you marry one of them.’

‘It’s not that,’ Ruthie told her pacifically. ‘Glen explained it all to me. It’s because the army doesn’t want the men to jump into marriages because they’re overseas and alone, and then wish that they hadn’t, so we both have to see his CO together so that he can make sure that we know what we’re doing.

‘Oh, and did I tell you, Jess, that I’ve had the loveliest letter from Glen’s sister, telling me how much she’s looking forward to meeting me and saying that she’s always longed for a sister?’ Tears filled Ruthie’s eyes. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am. It’s like a dream come true, and when I think that, but for you, Jess, I’d never have met Glen in the first place.’

‘So when do you have to go and have this inspection, then?’ Mel asked.

‘I’m not sure yet. Glen has put in a request to his CO and now we have to wait for him to tell Glen when he will see us.’

‘Aye, well, you’d better hope he sees you before this second front happens that everyone’s going on about, otherwise your Glen could find himself oversees and you left here without a wedding ring.’

‘Oh, no! You don’t really think that could happen, do you?’ Ruthie protested, white-faced.

Jess shook her head. ‘She’s only winding you up, Ruthie. Mind you, she does have a point, so no anticipating them wedding vows or your wedding night, you think on. Just in case…’

Ruthie immediately went bright red and protested, ‘Glen would never ask me to do anything like that.’

The other girls exchanged looks.

‘Give over,’ Mel objected bluntly. ‘We all saw the way he was looking at you at the Grafton. I reckon he’d have carried you off to bed then if he thought he could have got away with it.’

When Ruthie struggled for the right thing to say, Mel carried on firmly, ‘There’s no call to look like that about it, anyway. There’s nowt wrong wi’ a lass and a lad feeling like that for each other. In fact, it seems to me that there’s more likely summat wrong when they don’t. Even doing it’s OK once you’re engaged, but you’ve got to make sure you don’t get caught out and left up the spout…You mustn’t let him get you pregnant,’ she explained in exasperation when Ruthie looked blankly at her. ‘And if he tells you that you won’t if you do it standing up then tell him to get lost, ’cos that doesn’t work. At least not according to my cousin Alison. A friend of hers got caught that way and left with the kid when her chap did a runner.’

‘What are you going to do about your frock? Only you can’t get them for love nor money unless you know someone who’s got one?’ Jess interrupted, seeing the mortified look on Ruthie’s face.

‘The Red Cross are lending out wedding dresses to girls who are marrying GIs,’ Ruthie told her happily. ‘We’ll have to go and look together, seeing as you’re going to be my bridesmaid.’

Jess gave her a wan smile and tried to appear enthusiastic. She wouldn’t have hurt Ruthie’s
feelings for the world, but the truth was that she had felt her heart sink a little when Ruthie had told her that Glen had asked Walter to be his best man. Naturally that meant the two of them would be paired up at the wedding, especially with everyone thinking that she and Walter were a couple, but the truth was…Jess bit down hard into her bottom lip. She wasn’t prepared to admit even to herself exactly what the truth was. She liked Walter – of course she did – but she had been more relieved than disappointed when Walter had told her during their first dance about the girl he was in love with ‘back home’.

Mind, it might be for the best if folk did continue to think that she and Walter were together. She knew one person who wouldn’t hesitate to make fun of her if he thought that Walter had dropped her. Not that she cared what Billy thought, of course. But she wasn’t going to have him thinking that she couldn’t get herself a chap if she wanted to. Not with him always showing off about the number of girls that fell for him. They wouldn’t be falling for him if he went and blew himself up, though, would they?

‘And Glen says that there’s no need for us to worry about the food for the wedding breakfast, because the US Army will provide that,’ Ruthie chattered happily to Maureen without taking her attention off the shells she was filling.

‘Oh, do stop going on about your ruddy wedding, will you? Me ears are aching with hearing about
it,’ Maureen told her rudely, before adding, ‘Anyway, it’s that Jess you should be going on about it to, since she’s the one as will be your bridesmaid.’

Concern clouded Ruthie’s gaze. ‘I asked you as well,’ she pointed out quietly. ‘You know I did.’

‘Oh, yes, you
asked
me all right, but that was only because you felt you had to. Anyone could see that.’

‘That’s not true,’ Ruthie protested, even though a part of her knew that was the truth.

‘Besides, how do you think I’d be feeling, wi’ ’er,’ she jerked her head in Jess’s direction, ‘there wi’ her fancy GI chap, and me there on me own, especially when it comes to the dancing?’

‘It won’t be like that. Glen will be inviting his friends and I’m sure they will be delighted to dance with you.’

‘Oh, I see, so that’s it, is it? You only want me there on account of your Glen’s friends needing a dance partner. Well, like I’ve already told you, if you really was my friend like you said you were going to be, I’d be the only one you’d want as your bridesmaid.’

Ruthie tried not to feel upset by Maureen’s antagonistic comments. It was true that her first choice had been Jess. Jess had been responsible for her meeting Glen and had been so kind to her, unlike Maureen, who was possessive and made her uneasy sometimes, even though she felt guilty for doing so.

She said gently, ‘I really do want you to be one of my bridesmaids, Maureen.’

‘Well, you can want all you like because I’m not. It’s all right for you, talking about borrowing frocks and that from the Red Cross, but you’ll have to pay to borrow them, you mark my words, and there’s no way I can afford that kind of thing. Not with me having to help at home.’

Guilty colour burned up under Ruthie’s skin. Oh dear! How insensitive of her not to have thought of that. No wonder Maureen was so cross with her.

‘I wouldn’t have expected you to pay out anything,’ she hurried to assure her. ‘I would have paid for the frock.’

‘Oh, well…maybe I’ll think about it then, but I’m not saying that I’ll do it, mind. Just that I’ll think about it.’