to put it on your finger to let the whole world know we’re engaged to be married – the sooner the better. I know you prefer to wait so we can tell your parents together, but it’s so frustrating with this damned war.
Give my love to them, and if you get time, I know mine would love you to call in at number 10. You’re always welcome – you know that. If you let them know ahead, Mum will make your favourite liver & bacon dish.
Will close now and try to get a couple of hours’ kip before the next shift. Will write again soon.
I love you so much.
Dickie xxx
Lana blinked back the tears. Her dearest love. He’d worked in their special code – created by them because of the severe censoring of all letters between members of the armed forces and their parents, wives and girlfriends. She loathed liver, but it meant he’d be docking at Liverpool, and his parents’ address at number 10 meant he’d be home in the tenth month – October. She couldn’t help smiling as his parents’ number had changed more than once to suit his homecoming date.
Her hand automatically touched the ring – Dickie’s ring that she’d put on a fine gold chain and worn around her neck ever since he proposed to her on her birthday, 6th August. Today was 4th October, the month he said he’d be home. As usual, the letter had taken several weeks to arrive. This was October, yes, but the year was now 1942. Fourteen months since his proposal, she calculated, and the diamond and ruby ring was still around her neck.
February 1943
‘Is there something wrong, dear?’ her mother said, her voice anxious.
‘The ATS won’t accept me for driving,’ Lana said dully, as she slid the sheet of paper back into the envelope.
Her mother’s eyes widened. ‘Why not? An intelligent young woman – healthy—’
‘Seems I’m not.’
‘What—?’
‘They say I’ve got flat feet. I’d never be able to march. They might be able to find me a job in an office as a civilian – well, they can forget that.’ She rounded on her mother, the gold in her hazel eyes flashing. ‘The woman who interviewed me more or less said they’d welcome me with open arms as an experienced driver. Some welcome.’
‘Well, at least you haven’t got anything serious,’ her mother said calmly. ‘You had me worried for a moment.’
‘You don’t understand, Mum. Joining up was going to change my life. Pay back those bloody Germans for killing Dickie.’ She absentmindedly fiddled with her engagement ring, now on the third finger of her left hand.
‘Don’t swear, dear,’ her mother said mildly. ‘I know how you must feel but if I may say so … and don’t get cross with me, but that isn’t quite the right spirit. You want revenge for Dickie’s death but that’s going to keep you bitter. Not all Germans are Nazis. I’m sure many of them don’t want to fight any more than our boys. I do understand your feelings but—’
‘I’m sorry, Mum, but you don’t understand at all,’ Lana said, her voice rising as she sprang to her feet. ‘I’ll never forgive them – never!’
Knowing she was behaving badly but not being able to stop herself, she rushed from the room.
‘You shouldn’t take it personally, Lana,’ her father said when she’d calmed down a little and stepped into her parents’ grocery shop a quarter of an hour later. ‘They haven’t rejected you – it’s just one of those things.’
It was pointless to argue with her father. She knew he was right anyway. But it didn’t make it any less hurtful.
‘Your mother and I have been talking. The last thing we want is to keep you at home now Mum’s getting better. Working in the shop is not for you – it would be a waste of all your training. Now Marjorie has left to join up, I’ve put an advertisement in the paper for a replacement assistant.’ He glanced at her, and she saw the love and concern reflected in his eyes. ‘You have to decide now what you want to do. Personally, I think you should go back to teaching. Your mum says the same.’
‘You sound like Dickie,’ Lana said, more than a little annoyed.
‘I’m not surprised. Dickie was right. We all know how the children loved you. I reckon they thought you were a little eccentric – different from any of their other teachers – but that was why they adored you.’ His eyes twinkled with humour and she couldn’t help giving him a small smile in return. ‘I think that’s where you’re needed. Not fighting Jerry.’
She couldn’t think of a reply so she busied herself undoing a box of tinned sardines that had just been delivered.
‘Any eggs this week?’ she asked, more for something to say, as there wasn’t much hope of any.
‘We’re expecting our allowance tomorrow,’ her father said.
‘Well, at least that will stop Mrs Mason from her perpetual moaning.’
Her parents’ words tumbled over in her mind the rest of the morning. Maybe they were right. Maybe her strength lay in teaching. And if she was honest she’d missed it terribly these last few months when she’d come home to look after her mother. A severe case of influenza had turned into pneumonia. Lana closed her eyes for a moment. It had been touch and go. At one stage she’d thought she was going to lose her mother as well as her fiancé. Now her mother was finally regaining her strength, Lana had some thinking to do. She was uncertain as to whether the headmaster would give her back her old job, even though they knew her slightly unconventional ways and couldn’t deny how much the children responded to her.
She remembered standing in the headmaster’s office when she’d asked him if he could hold her position by having a temporary teacher for the time it took her mother to recover. He couldn’t guarantee it, he’d said. It depended upon who came in her place. What their situation might be. He wouldn’t look her in the eye. At that moment in his office she’d made up her mind never to go back to that school, whatever the circumstances.
‘Even if he offered it to me it would be going backwards,’ she said aloud as she checked the list of items they were waiting to be delivered. She’d always taken pride in trying something new if things didn’t turn out as expected or if she was unhappy. Begging for her old job would be admitting failure.
When Marjorie Drake had suddenly announced to Lana’s father that she was joining the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force and would be leaving in a week’s time, Lana had felt a spurt of envy. She’d decided then and there to join the Auxiliary Territorial Service. To fight Jerry. For Dickie’s sake. But now that had been cut from under her.
‘The library was shut today,’ Lana grumbled to her father after supper a few days later when her mother had retired early. ‘Staff shortage, I suppose. It’s so annoying. I’ve finished my book and I’ve got nothing else to read.’
‘Try these.’ Her father put down his newspaper and tossed
