‘Damn! No canoodling with suave Frenchmen then?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Claire hated lying to Eddie. ‘Fancy going to the flicks?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘We could see the new Clarke Gable picture.’
‘Sorry darling, I promised Larry I’d see it with him.’ Claire opened her mouth to ask who Larry was, but Eddie carried on. ‘Must dash, he’s picking me up in two minutes. We’ll see something next week,’ she shouted, running down the stairs.
‘Thank you Larry, whoever you are!’ Claire said aloud. ‘Now I don’t have to lie to my best friend, and I can read the information Colonel Smith gave me.’ She took the folder from beneath the mattress, kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed. Drawing her knees up, she leant back onto her pillow and opened the folder. She heard a couple of girls come upstairs and go to their rooms. Judging by their conversation they had just come off duty and were changing to go out for the evening. As they passed Claire’s door they waved, but didn’t speak. Her housemates were used to seeing her with her nose stuck in a folder or a book.
Claire read on, losing all track of time. After a couple of hours she rubbed her eyes and, reaching out, took the alarm clock from the cupboard at the side of her bed. She held it up and squinted. It was half past nine. No wonder she was having difficulty reading; it was almost dark. The girls she shared the house with would be back soon, so she read to the end of the paragraph, ripped a strip of paper out of her notebook, placed it in the folder and closed it. She had read enough for one day. Yawning, she put the folder back under the mattress and sat on the bed. She wanted desperately to tell Eddie that she had been asked to consider working overseas with the SOE, but she couldn’t. She closed her eyes to rest them and the next minute, or so it seemed, Eddie and a couple of WAAFs arrived, hushing and shushing each other. Giggling, Eddie ran to the bedroom window and closed the blackout curtains before putting on the light. The other girls shouted goodnight and stumbled into their bedroom, on the opposite side of the landing.
While Eddie talked animatedly about her date with Larry – how handsome he was, how tall and, my goodness what a good kisser – Claire took her wash bag and towel from the bedside cupboard and went to the bathroom. Eddie followed. Claire washed her face and brushed her teeth – and Eddie was still talking. Returning to the bedroom, Claire pulled back the bedclothes and climbed into bed.
‘I’ll tell you all about the film when I get back,’ Eddie said, grabbing her wash bag and toothbrush. ‘Shan’t be long.’ Claire was asleep in seconds.
‘Looking forward to training with the Canuck today?’ Eddie asked, as she and Claire took off their uniforms. Claire shrugged. ‘He’s quite yummy, if you like the beefcake type.’
‘Can’t say I’ve noticed,’ Claire said. ‘Rude yes, but yummy?’
‘Blackouts have to be the least flattering drawers in the world,’ Eddie said, looking down at her baggy knickers, which were almost down to her knees. ‘Passion killers, that’s what they are.’
‘Oh I don’t know,’ Claire said, rolling the legs of hers up to her thighs and high-kicking.
Eddie laughed and did the same. ‘Ouch! The bally elastic’s tight,’ she said, pushing the legs down again.
Claire looked from Eddie’s thick woollen knickers to her own, and pulled a face. ‘You’d think they’d give us shorts, as we’re being trained by a man. Why are we being trained by a man?’
‘We’re guinea pigs. One of the girls said the Canuck has been in intelligence, and is going to put us through endurance tests as well as physical training.’
‘It’ll be an endurance test having to look at his miserable face every day. Come on, knees up, Mountjoy!’ Claire shouted, running on the spot until Eddie joined her. Together they sprinted out of the house and across to the barrack square. Captain Mitchell stood with his hands on his hips while a dozen WAAFs milled around, chatting to each other.
‘Good of you to join us, Aircraftwomen Dudley and Mountjoy.’ The other women giggled. ‘Okay!’ he shouted. ‘Let’s warm up. Run on the spot, and at the sound of the whistle, six laps of the square. Let’s go!’
‘I like a masterful man,’ Eddie whispered, as they began the first lap.
‘Shush, Ed. If he catches you talking you’ll be for it.’
‘Would you like to share what it is that’s more interesting than your training, ACW Dudley?’
Claire spun round, eyes wide with surprise that he had singled her out. ‘No sir! Sorry sir!’ she said, glaring at Eddie. She felt the colour creeping up her neck to her cheeks. She didn’t like the Canadian captain. He was a bully.
‘What a misery he is,’ Eddie said, when they were in the showers. ‘I’m sorry he ticked you off. It should have been me. I can tell him if you like, explain you were only talking because you were telling me to be quiet.’
‘No! He’ll see it as an excuse and it’ll make things worse. Forget about it and let’s hope he does too.’
Later, when they were on their own, Claire told Eddie that she was being considered for a translating assignment. ‘Whether I get it or not depends on Miserable Mitchell. The thing is, Ed, he doesn’t like me. He probably doesn’t think I’m up to the job, so I’ve got to show him that I am. I really want this, Ed, so be a pal and don’t muck about when he’s around. I
