didn’t. Just stood around looking like a bunch of strays caught in a storm.”
Marlene bounced onto the chair next to her. “They didn’t stay because no one can dance to Awful Ernie’s music. But what if they had real American big band music that they could jive to and jitterbug? They’d bloody well come then, wouldn’t they?”
“Watch your language, Marlene,” Edna warned, still busily peeling potatoes.
“Sorry, Ma.” Marlene leaned forward and dug her nail into Polly’s arm. “You could ask your Sam to come. He’d bring his mates, wouldn’t he?”
Polly felt a shiver of excitement. “He might. I could ask him.” Her smile faded. “Too bad about Clay. You could have asked him, too.”
Marlene’s face sobered, too. “I know. Poor bugger. I keep thinking about him, wondering what happened to him.”
“Probably picked up by the Germans now,” Polly said, feeling sorry for her sister.
Marlene nodded. “Well, that’s war, I suppose. At least he won’t have to fly those planes again. Not like Sam. You must feel ill every time he goes up in them.”
Polly shrugged. “I do, but what’s the use of worrying? If it’s his time, then there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” Her words hid the cold dread she felt every time she thought about Sam taking off with a load of bombs sitting underneath him. He’d been lucky so far. He’d come back in one piece. She refused to think about the unwritten law that said the more times he went up, the more likely his number would eventually be up.
Thinking about Sam reminded her of something. “Well, I’ve got big news meself tonight,” she announced.
Edna spun around with a look of alarm on her face. “I hope it’s good news,” she said, shaking her potato peeler at Polly. “I hope you’ve been behaving yourself.”
Polly snorted. “’Course I have. Haven’t had much chance to do anything else.”
“And you’d better not do anything else, or your father will hear of it.”
“Aw, Ma, would you shut up nagging at me.” Polly leaned back in her chair. “You should be proud of me for what I done.”
Edna immediately looked suspicious, while Marlene’s eyes lit up. “Go on, what did you do, then?”
“I got hired to be Lady Elizabeth’s secretary, that’s what,” Polly proudly declared. “So what do you think of that, then?”
“You never did!” Marlene slapped her palm down on the table, making Polly jump. “I don’t believe it.”
“Is this true, Polly?” Edna demanded. She looked pleased in spite of the doubt in her voice.
“’Course it’s true.” Polly hooked her thumbs into her hair and pulled it back from her face. “Now I’ll have to put my hair up proper all the time.”
“Are you getting paid more money?”
Polly pulled a face at Marlene. “Not yet, but I will when I learn everything.”
“When did this happen?” Edna asked, still sounding suspicious.
“This morning.” Polly sat up straight again. “I asked Lady Elizabeth if I could help out in the office, and she said yes.”
“Instead of cleaning the house?”
“No, I’ve still got to clean, but at least I’ll be doing secretary’s work some of the time.”
Marlene grinned. “You must really like that Sam.”
“Just who
Polly scowled at her sister. “The American officer who gives me a lift home at night. He’s staying at the Manor House, and he’s a friend of Lady Elizabeth’s.”
Edna’s eyes narrowed. “Just how old is this Sam?”
“Aw, Ma, I don’t know, do I. He’s just someone her ladyship asked to give me a lift ’cause she’s worried about me riding me bike past the woods at night.”
“Doesn’t sound so innocent to me. How long has this been going on? What about your bike?”
“Just last night and tonight. He puts me bike in the back of the Jeep so I have it for the mornings. It’s all right, Ma. Sam’s a proper gentleman. He wouldn’t do nothing, honest.” Polly crossed her fingers under the table. Maybe it wasn’t exactly the truth, but she was scared to death her mother would forbid her to see Sam again if she knew just how much her youngest daughter cared about the handsome officer.
“Well, just make sure there’s no hanky-panky going on between you,” Edna muttered, turning back to the sink. She lifted the pot of potatoes and dumped it on the stove. “Are you two girls going to help us decorate tonight? I think most of Rita’s group is helping out.”
“I’ve got to wash some clothes,” Marlene said, getting up from the table. “I want to hang them out on the line tonight now that it’s stopped raining.”
“Me, too,” Polly said, getting excited again about jitterbugging with Sam. “I wonder if I can talk Sam into getting us some nylons for the dance?”
Marlene grinned. “Play your cards right, me girl, and you can talk him into anything you want.”
“Here!” Edna said sharply. “I don’t want none of that talk in this house.”
“Oh, go on, Ma, you worry too much.” Marlene slapped her mother playfully on the back as she went past her. “I’m going to sort out some clothes before supper.”
Polly sprang to her feet. “Me, too. I have to decide what I’m going to wear on Saturday.”
“Just don’t bring trouble home to this house,” Edna muttered. “Neither of you. Or I’ll wash my hands of you.”
Polly knew what she meant. She’d heard it all before. “We won’t, Ma,” she promised automatically and followed Marlene upstairs to pick out her dress for the dance.
Alone in the library, Elizabeth surveyed the mound of garlands and silk flowers that had decorated the Manor House for longer than she remembered. There was far too much for her to carry on her motorcycle. She smiled when the solution occurred to her.
She had to visit the east wing in order to issue the invitation to the dance. She had already called the American base and the camp in Beerstowe to inform them of the event, but she wanted to invite the major and his officers personally. That way she could be fairly certain that they would feel under some obligation to attend. If the major happened to be in the east wing when she went up there, she could ask him to help her take the decorations over to the town hall.
And if not, she reminded herself as she hurried down the great hall, she could always ask that nice Sam Cutter, who had been kind enough to give Polly a ride home these past two nights. Having convinced herself that she was not simply making up excuses to see the major again, she felt quite pleased with the way things were working out.
She was halfway down the hall when she thought she saw something moving at the far end. The double summertime provided daylight hours until quite late, and the sun was just beginning to sink in the evening sky. The long shadows cast from the two suits of armor stretched from wall to wall, and it was in those shadows that Elizabeth thought she saw movement.
Even as she paused there, beneath the portrait of the first Lord Hartleigh and his wife, she felt a strong, cold draft of wind brush her face. Startled, she stepped back, her fingers jumping to her cheek. None of the windows opened along this stretch of the hall, and the doors at both ends were securely fastened. Yet there was an unmistakable draft blowing from somewhere.
The shadows moved again, and what appeared to be a faint mist seemed to blow across them. It hovered there for no more than a second or two, then vanished.
Elizabeth blinked. It had all happened so fast she was certain now that she must have imagined it. All this talk of ghosts had unsettled her nerves. There were no such things as ghosts. Or even if there were, surely they waited until nightfall to make an appearance. She really had to stop listening to Martin’s ramblings.
In spite of her convictions, she trod warily down the length of the hall until she reached the door that led to the east wing. As she stretched out her hand, a terrible gargling noise, followed by a shuddering and rattling, almost shot her out of her skin. Without another second’s delay she hauled open the door and fled through it.
Her common sense told her that it was just the water pipes complaining because someone had used the lavatory. Her shattered nerves, however, propelled her forward at full steam. Head down, she charged around the corner and ran smack into a sturdy body.
Temporarily winded, she heard a startled “Ouf!” as her unfortunate companion lost the air from his lungs. She
