We'll Meet Again (19 page)

‘Do come in,’ her ladyship said. ‘Prue will show you round. Luncheon will be at one.’

Sheila looked round for her case, but it was already being borne away by the servant who had opened the door to them. Prue was following him, so she went after them.

She knew she would find it difficult to adapt to the kind of life they lived at Longfordham Hall and was terrified she would embarrass herself and Prue, who simply laughed. ‘Just be yourself,’ she told her when she came to Sheila’s room to help her dress for dinner in the green dress she had worn the Christmas before. Prue was already dressed in a long blue silk dress that clung to her
figure. ‘They’ll love you. My parents are not ogres, you know. I wish Gillie were here, he would soon put you at your ease.’

‘Have you heard from him lately?’

‘No and don’t expect to, but Mama has had a card from him and he is apparently well. Turn about and let me help you with the buttons. Anyway, you won’t be the only one feeling strange. Mama has invited some officers from the American base for dinner and I wouldn’t mind betting they will be floundering. They don’t have aristocrats in America and we seem to fascinate them, as if we had two heads or something.’

There were four of them, they discovered, when they went down to the drawing room where the Earl and Countess were entertaining them.

‘Ah, Prue, come and meet our American friends,’ her father said. ‘Major Norton Drake, Captain Johnnie Howard, Lieutenants Vernon Greenbaum and Martin Youngman. My daughter Lady Prudence …’

‘Oh, please, no formality, I’m Prue and this is my friend, Sheila Phipps.’

‘Are you an aristocrat, too?’ Johnnie asked Sheila. It sounded like ‘a wrist o crat’ the way he said it.

‘No, I’m ordinary.’

‘No, Miss Phipps, you are not or’nary, no way.’

‘Of course not,’ Prue said. ‘Sheila is our famous songbird.’

‘Songbird?’ Johnnie queried, turning to Sheila. ‘Famous?’

‘No, she’s just teasing.’

‘I am not,’ Prue insisted. ‘Sheila is already making a name for herself. One day she will be as famous as Vera Lynn.’

The butler came to announce that dinner was served, which saved Sheila’s blushes, and they paired up to go to the dining room, led by the Earl and Countess, followed by Prue with Major Drake,
then Sheila and Captain Howard and the lieutenants bringing up the rear.

The Countess had been determined to impress and they were served consommé, then roast duck and for dessert, a trifle laden with fruit and cream. There was wine too.

‘This is swell,’ the major said. ‘I didn’t know you could eat so well in little old England.’

‘Normally we don’t,’ Prue said. ‘This is a special occasion. Sheila and I couldn’t get here for Christmas, so we are making up for it now.’

‘We are lucky,’ the Countess explained. ‘We can grow most of our food.’ She laughed. ‘Even the ducks.’

‘Then we are most privileged to share it with you, ma’am,’ Johnnie said.

The Countess was a good hostess and she swiftly turned the conversation to the men and what they did.

‘I’m in Admin,’ the major said. He was a big man, several years older than the others. He had a large moustache beginning to grey and more grey hair at his temples. ‘My flying days are over. Johnnie here is a pilot, Vernon and Martin are part of his crew.’

‘And how many make a crew, Captain?’

‘Ten, ma’am,’ Johnnie answered. ‘Vernon is my co-pilot and Martin is the navigator. Then we have a radio operator, a bombardier and five gunners.’

‘We hear you all taking off,’ the Earl said. ‘Can’t fail to. I never heard such a deafening noise, shakes the house to its foundations. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll clear the chimney pots.’

‘I am sorry about that, sir, but I’m afraid it can’t be helped.’

‘I realise that. My wife counts them going out and tries to count them coming back, but I fear some don’t return.’

‘No. Losses are high.’

‘Why do you fly in daylight? Wouldn’t it be safer to fly at night?’

‘Neither is safe,’ Major Drake said diplomatically. ‘The RAF go at night, we go during the day, it doubles the problems for Hitler.’

‘Tim flew at night and he wasn’t safe,’ Prue said quietly.

‘My daughter’s young man is in the RAF,’ the Countess explained. ‘He was shot down over Germany and is a prisoner of war.’

‘Gee, I’m sorry,’ the men murmured.

‘At least he is alive,’ Prue said. Obviously her mother thought she had made it up with Tim, but she could hardly contradict her in front of their guests. ‘Poor Sheila’s boyfriend was in the navy. His ship was torpedoed and he was lost.’

Sheila had been quietly eating her dinner, not taking part in the conversation, but now all eyes turned towards her. She felt the colour flare in her face as they offered condolences. Johnnie, who was sitting opposite her, smiled in sympathy. He had auburn hair, a little like her own, grey-green eyes, and beautiful white teeth. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

‘Let us talk of something more cheerful,’ the Earl said. ‘I hear you are going to organise a dance at the base to see the New Year in.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Johnnie said, taking his eyes from Sheila to answer him. ‘I hope Lady Prudence and Miss Phipps will come. It is being properly organised and the young ladies will be fetched and brought home afterwards, escorted by ladies of our Red Cross. They will be perfectly safe.’

‘We’d love to come,’ Prue said, answering for both of them.

The transport was a canvas-covered truck with a bench seat down each side. Prue and Sheila were the last to be picked up because the
Hall was closest to the base. The Countess came out to speak to the American driver and the two American Red Cross ladies who were to act as chaperones. Apparently satisfied, she stepped back and waved them away.

The truck was full of girls and young ladies, all dressed in their finery for the occasion. They had curled their hair and put on make-up and nylon stockings given to them by the Americans. The arrival of Prue and her friend sent them into an embarrassed silence, until Prue put them at their ease by introducing Sheila and chatting to them about their families and what they had been doing. They were too overawed to ask her what she did. Five minutes later, they were driven onto the base and drew up outside a brick building.

The flap at the back of the truck was lifted and an American voice said, ‘Welcome, ladies, welcome. I’m Johnnie Howard. There’re others inside waiting to meet you.’ He held out his hand to the first of the girls, who stepped demurely down the steps he had propped against the truck. One by one, they gained the Tarmac and entered the building.

Once inside, they were conducted to a cloakroom by the Red Cross ladies and from there to the dance hall. It was a large room but even so it was heaving with people. At one end a band was playing music for dancing. All along one side, tables groaned under the food laid out on them: ham and turkey, chicken, succulent pies, white bread rolls, lavishly buttered, sandwiches oozing fillings, cakes, trifles topped with real cream, bowls of punch, cans of Coca-Cola and at one end a barrel of beer. Many of the girls had never seen such plenty all at once, even in peacetime, and they eyed the table hungrily.

But food was not on the minds of their hosts. Every girl was soon dancing with an eager American. Prue went off to dance
with Major Drake. Sheila, standing watching the gyrating couples, found her view blocked by Johnnie Howard.

‘Dance?’ he queried, holding out his hand. She took it and allowed herself to be led into the middle of the throng. It was a rip-roaring affair, as unlike ballroom dancing as it was possible to be. At first she tried to move demurely, but that was difficult as she found herself pulled this way and that and she let herself go, caught up in the atmosphere and the music. It was impossible to talk.

When it ended, he took her back to her place but as Prue was busy chatting on the other side of the room, he stayed with her. ‘Do you live in Longfordham?’ he asked her. ‘Why haven’t I seen you about? I would surely have remembered someone as pretty as you if I had.’

She laughed at this blatant flattery. ‘I don’t live in the village, Captain. I’m staying with Lady Prudence.’

‘Hey, forget the captain. I’m Johnnie.’

‘Then, Johnnie, no more Miss Phipps.’

‘Sheila, tell me about yourself. We didn’t have a chance to talk together the other evening.’

‘Nothing much to tell. I was born in London, went to school, left to work in a grocer’s shop and then the war came.’

‘Then what?’

‘My home was bombed, reduced to rubble. I lost everyone, mother, father, five brothers and sisters.’

‘Gee, that’s tough. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s all right, you don’t need to apologise. There’s a chance my oldest brother might have survived, but we don’t know. I’ve been searching for him on and off ever since.’ She blinked hard and smiled. ‘I didn’t mean to trouble you with it.’

‘What do you do now? Still serving in a grocer’s store?’

‘No. I’m an office worker. I live with my aunt.’ She realised the conversation could become tricky if he kept asking her questions and added, ‘What about you? Where are you from?’

‘I come from Idaho but I was born in England.’

‘You mean you’re English?’

‘No. I was adopted when I was only a few weeks old. My pop is an American right through, Mom was English but she’s American now. They met during the last war.’

‘Do you know who your real parents were?’

‘No, but I’m kinda curious. I might try and find out about them while I’m here.’

‘Have you been to England before?’

‘No, never. I promised Mom I’d look up the grandparents while I was here, but I haven’t managed it yet. I’m going on my next furlough.’

‘Furlough?’

‘You call it leave.’

‘Where do they live?’

‘In Derbyshire.’ He paused as a senior officer entered the room and went round tapping some of the airmen on the shoulder. They excused themselves and left.

‘Where are they going?’ she asked.

‘To bed. They are the ones flying tomorrow. They’ll be called at four-thirty, so they try and get some sleep in early. Doesn’t always work though.’

‘You aren’t flying tomorrow then?’

‘No. Say, do you want to dance again?’ The music had softened and the band were playing ‘Yours’. Already some couples were clasped in a tight embrace, hardly moving from the spot. He took her hand and led her onto the floor.

He wasn’t like the others. He held her properly, just a little bit
closer than she had been taught, but it was fine. It seemed a long time since she had been held in a man’s arms; she felt warm and protected. He smelt of aftershave. She began to hum the tune and then to sing in an undertone.

‘Sing for us,’ he said.

‘I can’t.’

‘Oh come on.’ He stopped dancing and grabbed her hand to propel her towards the stage. ‘What’s it to be?’

The band was still playing the same tune. After a little hesitation, she picked up the microphone and began to sing ‘Yours’. At first everyone kept on dancing, then one by one they stopped and turned towards her as the clear voice rose.

There was silence while she sang, then enthusiastic applause and demands for an encore. She followed it with ‘I’ll be with you in apple blossom time’ and then all the popular tunes, one after another, some sweetly sentimental, others more robust like ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’ and ‘Ma, he’s making eyes at me’. They wouldn’t let her stop. And then it turned into a sing-song, with everyone joining in. An hour later, breathless but triumphant, she was rescued by Prue. ‘You wowed them,’ she said. ‘Come and have some of this delicious food.’

Towards midnight, the eating and dancing stopped and someone turned on a wireless so they could hear the chimes of Big Ben. Silently they listened and on the twelfth stroke they turned to each other. ‘Happy New Year,’ they said to whoever was nearest, followed by, ‘May it bring all you hope for.’

‘Victory,’ someone said. ‘An end to war.’

‘And going home.’

‘Hear! Hear!’

Johnnie seized Sheila in his arms and kissed her. ‘Happy New Year, Songbird,’ he murmured.

Caught up in the euphoria, she kissed him back.

When the transport took the girls back, he sat beside the driver and helped her out at the door of the Hall. ‘Can I see you again?’ he asked.

‘It depends what Prue wants to do. We’re only here for a week.’

‘Then we ought to make the most of it. I’ll be flying some of the time, but if we’re lucky we’re back by evening.’

‘How will I know?’

‘You’ll hear us come back. I’ll come up to the Hall, shall I?’

‘I don’t know about that. I’m only a guest …’

‘Course he can come,’ Prue put in as she joined her on the gravel. ‘You make what arrangements you like. Don’t mind me.’

‘Then I’ll be seeing you,’ he said and climbed back into the truck.

Sheila was woken next morning by a thunderous noise which shook the windows and did nothing to help her headache. Too much punch, too much good food, too much noise and excitement. She crept out of bed, went along to the bathroom where hot water came out of an ordinary tap, had a wash, dressed and crept downstairs. There was no one about. She could hear sounds from the back of the house and made her way towards them. They led her to the kitchen where two staff were already at work preparing breakfast.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was looking for a glass of water and an aspirin.’

‘That’s all right, miss, I’ll get you some.’ The older of the two women fetched a glass and a packet of Alka-Seltzer from a cupboard. She filled the glass and stirred the powder into the water. ‘There, you drink that down. It was rare ol’ night up at the base, I gather.’

‘Yes, it was.’ She gulped down the liquid. ‘I think I’ll go outside for a breath of fresh air.’

‘You do that, but wrap up warm, it’s freezing out. Breakfast will be about an hour.’

She found her coat, gloves and scarf in the cloakroom by the front door and let herself out of the house.

Her route took her through the gardens, its leafless shrubs adorned with frosty cobwebs, glistening in the morning sun. It had been a lovely night, the men were so friendly and polite and anxious to please. She had noticed one or two of the girls slipping out on the arm of an airman, but Johnnie had stuck close to her and made sure she enjoyed herself without being bothered by the more amorous of his colleagues. He was a real gentleman and had treated her like royalty, except for that kiss. She felt as if she had known him all her life, which was silly considering she had only just met him.