The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [54]
‘Is this where Myra Stone is billeted?’ the soldier asked tiredly. ‘Only I’m her husband, Jim.’
PART TWO
Summer 1942
ELEVEN
‘Well…’ Uncertainly, Diane looked back over her shoulder into the hallway.
‘Look, this is the right address, isn’t it?’
‘Er, yes,’ Diane was forced to admit. ‘But I’m afraid that Myra isn’t here at the moment.’
‘On duty, is she? Just my luck.’ He gave Diane a tired smile. ‘Only got a forty-eight-hour pass at the last minute. Didn’t even know I was coming back to Blighty until we got on the transport plane.’
Diane could see the Eighth Army insignia on his battledress and her heart ached for him.
‘You’d better come in,’ she told him, holding open the door. ‘You see, the fact is that Myra’s gone out tonight…with…with some friends.’
Diane was glad that she had her back to him when she told him this edited version of the truth.
‘What time will she be back?’
‘I’m not sure. You see, the thing is, I think they may have gone over to Blackpool.’
‘Bloody hell. Oh, sorry. It’s just—’
‘It’s all right. I understand,’ Diane assured him as she led the way into the kitchen. ‘I’m Diane, by the way,’ she added, turning and holding out her hand to shake his. ‘Myra’s co-billetee.’ She was praying he wouldn’t ask her exactly where Myra had gone in Blackpool and who with, and she was praying too that he wouldn’t take it into his head to follow her there.
‘So she’s gone out enjoying herself, has she? Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s Myra all over. Never has liked missing out on a good time. I suppose it’s understandable in the circumstances. Told you much about her mam and dad, has she?’
Diane shook her head. ‘Like I said, I don’t know when she’s going to be back,’ she told him, adding, ‘She did say something earlier in the week about them maybe staying over and making a bit of a holiday of it, if they could find somewhere.’ What on earth was she doing, lying like this for Myra? It wasn’t her job to safeguard Myra’s marriage, but then she wasn’t doing it for Myra, was she? She was doing it for the exhausted battle-weary-looking man standing in Mrs Lawson’s kitchen, who was so plainly desperate to see his wife. She couldn’t let him know the truth.
‘I’ve got meself a bed for the night with a mate who flew back with me. Comes from Liverpool, he does. He even reckoned a sister of his would let me and Myra have her spare room for the weekend.’
He pulled out a packet of Woodbines and lit one, taking a fierce drag on it. ‘Sorry…Do you…?’ he offered.
Diane declined. ‘Look, why don’t you sit down for a few minutes and let me make you a cup of tea?’ she offered.
The gratitude she could see in his eyes touched her deeply. Myra ought to have been here to do this for him – this and so much more. Diane could actually see the grains of sand sticking to his battle-dress, along with the lines burned into his skin by the heat of the desert sun.
‘There’s a bit of salad here as well, if you’re hungry,’ she offered him.
‘I’m not taking your supper,’ he told her.
‘No, I ate at the canteen before I came in,’ she fibbed, going to get the salad and putting it on the table for him.
From the way he wolfed it down, it looked as though he hadn’t stopped to eat before catching his transport home, Diane thought, as she went to make a pot of tea.
‘I’m really sorry Myra isn’t here. You must be so disappointed.’
‘Just a bit,’ he agreed. He looked more relaxed now he had eaten, and Diane could see that behind the grimness of the soldier there was a solid kindness about him. ‘It’s my own fault, though. I should have got in touch with her first.’ He removed a hip flask from his pocket and unscrewed it, offering it to Diane. ‘Want some?’
When she said no thanks, he poured a measure of brandy into his own tea.
‘Mind you, if I had told Myra I was getting leave she’d have probably decided to take herself off so that she couldn’t see me anyway. Told you much about me, has she?’
‘She said that she was married,’ Diane assured him tactfully, ‘but we tend not to talk about personal things.’
‘No? I’ll bet she