The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [84]
‘And Glen’s mother has written me the nicest letter, welcoming me into the family. Glen wants us to get married soon. He’s one of them working on the new runways at Burtonwood, and whilst he doesn’t think he’ll be posted somewhere else for a while, like he says, you never know, and it’s best that we get married just as soon as we can,’ she explained earnestly.
There was no need for Diane to ask if the younger girl was happy. Ruthie’s joy was spilling out of her with every word she said. Diane could remember a time when she had felt just the same. Now, though…If only some of Ruthie’s happiness could spill into her life, on to her.
Just as Diane reached Derby House, the bus that brought in the other girls from the school in Hyatt, where they were billeted, for their ‘watch’, pulled up alongside her, disgorging a crowd of uniformed young women, including Jean.
‘You don’t know how lucky you are to be living out,’ she grumbled to Diane. ‘No barracking your bed every morning, then having to run all the way to parade for you, I’ll bet.’
‘No,’ Diane agreed. She certainly didn’t miss the morning routine of stripping her bed, and then folding the sheets and the blankets separately before stacking them up on top of the ‘biscuit’, as the narrow beds were named, but she did miss the camaraderie she had shared with the other girls at her previous post, and she would have much preferred to be billeted with someone other than Myra.
‘We were late on parade this morning and there was a CO’s inspection so we’ve been given jankers,’ she told Diane, referring to the routine punishment of things like washing up and peeling potatoes that was given for such an offence.
‘Poor you,’ Diane sympathised, before changing the subject to ask anxiously, ‘Have you heard from Susan at all?’
Jean shook her head. ‘Only that her hubby hasn’t been found as yet, and that she’s been warned to expect the worst.’
Not unnaturally, the whole of Derby House was still in the grip of an angry grief but nowhere more so than down in the Dungeon, where those working had seen the devastation at first-hand.
Breaking off their conversation to salute a Senior Service captain emerging from the building, Diane checked to see that her cap was on straight before reaching for her pass and heading for the door.
‘It’s all right for you,’ Jean continued to grumble. ‘You’ve got such lovely long hair that you can put it up. Somehow I always manage to end up with mine touching my collar, if I have to wear my greatcoat.’
It was against WAAF rules for a girl’s hair to touch her collar, and Diane took a quick look at Jean’s hair before suggesting, ‘Have you thought of rolling it round a sausage?’
‘What’s that when it’s at home?’
Diane laughed. ‘It’s a ring of stuffed cloth that you put on your head, a bit like a tiara, and then you tuck your hair into it. I think I might have one somewhere. I’ll bring it with me tomorrow, if you like, and show you.’
‘Would you? Anything that stops me from getting put on another charge would be welcome. Watch out, here come the Brylcreem boys,’ Jean laughed as three small reconnaissance planes screamed overhead, the first one doing a small victory roll.
‘Now that’s something the Americans will never be able to do in those huge bombers of theirs,’ Jean commented with satisfaction. ‘Hear about Middlesbrough being bombed the other night, did you? I’ve got an auntie living there. Let’s hope these new Lancasters we’ve got that are supposed to be so wonderful can persuade Hitler to give in.’
Diane smiled, but she suspected that Jean knew as well as she did herself that the war was still long from over.
‘Is Myra still seeing that GI she was dancing with at the Grafton?’ Jean asked her suddenly.
‘I’m…I’m not sure,’ Diane felt obliged to fib. ‘Why?’
‘Oh, no reason really. Only that I was out with a pal of mine and her brother the other night. He’s something secret in the police – I don’t really know what – but he took us into this place for a drink for a bit of a joke. He told us it was