‘Lovely. I’ll look forward to it, Mike. But what about your date? What if you were to meet Mavis at the dance, I mean?’
‘We-e-ll.’ He rubbed his chin ruefully and his smile, she thought, was sheer bliss. ‘Truth is, there isn’t a Mavis – not here, that is.’
‘She’s your girl, back home?’
‘My girl?’ He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Y’see, Lucy, it’s like this. When you said about Nick not turning up, I came out with the first name that came into my head. I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I’d been killing time watching a submarine go out – and watching you waiting there. When you came up to me I couldn’t believe my luck.’
‘Then who is Mavis?’
‘Mavis,’ the smile widened, ‘is my aunt Adeline’s parrot.’
‘A parrot! Called Mavis? Oh, Mike!’ Laughing with him, she held up her glass. ‘Here’s to Mavis.’
‘And to Nick. God bless ’em both!’
‘You awake, Vi?’ Wren Bainbridge, shoes in hand and two hours adrift, pushed open the door of cabin 9.
‘Lucinda! Where the ’ell have you been?’
‘Sorry, Vi. I tried not to waken you.’
‘Waken my flamin’ foot! D’you know what time it is?’
‘Actually – er – yes. Is the blackout all right? Can I switch the light on?’
‘Go ahead.’ Jane’s bedsprings creaked. ‘We weren’t asleep, either of us. Vi was certain you’d suffered a fate worse than death. You’re lucky the pier patrol didn’t catch you. What happened?’
‘Nothing happened. We talked and talked and I missed the last transport.’ Lucinda hung up her jacket then unknotted her tie. ‘Lord, my feet! We walked all the way back. I suppose I’m in trouble?’
‘Not unless anybody saw you coming in. We told the duty Wren you were in the bathroom when she did last rounds. How did you get in, by the way?’
‘I remembered what you said about the pantry window, then came up the back stairs. And bless you both for fixing it for me. Mike was really concerned.’
‘Mike?’ Vi frowned. ‘I thought his name was Nick.’
‘Sorry. Must have got it wrong. His name is Michael Farrow, actually, and he’s in the Air Force.’ Best not explain too much. Blind dates were one thing; being picked up by an American was altogether another. Or had she picked him up? ‘He – he’s stationed at Machrihanish and he’s very nice, Vi. Truly he is.’
‘No business of mine who you go out with,’ Vi grumbled, ‘and for Pete’s sake get yourself into bed or we’ll all be in the rattle. Y’know, I seem to remember you said eight o’clock. What really kept you, Lucinda?’
‘Nothing, honestly. I just felt sorry for him, that’s all. Wounded, and all that way from home. Actually, he’s an American.’
‘A Yank? What the ’eck’s he doin’ in our war?’
‘I really don’t know. I suppose he has his reasons. Said he didn’t like seeing people pushed around.’ Lucinda pulled on her pyjamas. ‘Anyway, I think it’s extremely noble of him to join in the scrap with us and that’s why I said I’d go out with him again.’
‘Again?’ Vi cocked an eyebrow. ‘And what would your Charlie say to that, if he knew?’
‘He won’t know. Mike is in Craigiebur on a seventy-two-hour leave pass. He’ll be going back to Machrihanish early Tuesday and that’ll be the end of it.’
‘Ar, hey, come off it, queen. Machrihanish isn’t the other end of the world. A feller that’s come all the way from America can find his way back to Ardneavie, no bother at all!’
‘Vi! I said I won’t be seeing him again after tomorrow night and I won’t.’
‘That’s all right then, isn’t it? I bet you didn’t tell him you were engaged, though.’
‘No, I didn’t.’ Why ever should she? What a fuss Vi was making. After tomorrow night it would be all over, wouldn’t it? And was she expected to live like a nun when the war might go on for years and years? ‘And I didn’t ask if he was engaged, either. Oh, Vi, it’s all right. I promise you it is.’
‘Look, queen, you don’t have to answer to me. What you do is your own business. But be careful, eh?’
‘I will. I really will. And thanks for getting me off the hook. It was awfully sweet of you both.’
Parts of this war, thought Lucinda as she snapped off the light and got into bed, were really rather nice. Since leaving home she had met such lovely girls: Vi, Jane, Molly, cabin ten and the lovely duty Wren who had turned a blind eye to the unlocked pantry window. She really was most grateful to Goddy for getting her into the Wrens. In years to come she would look back on it all with affection, and surely just a little freedom before she settled down wasn’t all that much to ask. Tonight had been fun, and tomorrow night would be even better.
Her toes wriggled in anticipation of a night spent dancing with Michael Johnson Farrow, the second of his names given for Alice Johnson, his beloved English grandmother who had gone to America as a governess when Queen Victoria was on the throne, and though she had married a citizen of the United States and never returned to the country of her birth, even to visit, she had steadfastly clung to her Englishness. A very stubborn lady, it would seem, and Mike was a chip off the old block, Lucinda smiled, one who liked having his own way. Like tonight, for instance, when he had flatly refused to let her hitch a lift back to Ardneavie and insisted on walking the whole three miles with her.
‘But Mike, your leg …’
‘Aw, to hell with my leg. The MO said it needed exercise and, anyway, you’re not supposed to notice it, honey.’
So she had left him at the pantry window and begged him to take it easy on the walk back, but he had laughed and told her not to be late tomorrow night.
Tomorrow. Seven-thirty, at the jetty and, oh dear, what would Charlie say to that, if he knew? Vi had implied he might not like it and probably she was right, but she wouldn’t mind betting, Lucinda pondered sleepily, that Charlie had the odd date or two. Charlie had fun, and he’d probably go on having fun long after they were married – which would be all right, she supposed, as long as he did it discreetly.
And tomorrow night she too would be discreet and thoroughly well-behaved, and when it was over she would offer her hand to Mike and wish him luck and she wouldn’t even kiss him goodbye.
She sighed and closed her eyes, and her lips tilted into a smile of pure contentment.
A parrot called Mavis, indeed …
