Beauty Chorus, The (16 page)

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Authors: Kate Lord Brown

BOOK: Beauty Chorus, The
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‘Good for you.’

‘What’s going on?’ Stella craned her head above the queue. ‘Is there a hold-up?’

‘Just a drink then? I’ll pick you up at eight.’ Arthur tried again.

‘Here’s your char.’ Jean thumped a mug of tea in front of him. ‘Now move along and behave yourself.’

‘Give us a kiss!’

‘Arthur!’ Jean blushed as several of the pilots whistled. ‘Behave yourself.’

‘That’s not what you said on Saturday at the Jolly Farmer.’

As Evie reached the counter she saw a small posy of violets on the counter, tied with a purple velvet ribbon. ‘Looks like spring has sprung,’ she whispered to Stella.

‘Romance in the ATA?’ She giggled. ‘It’s all getting a bit fruity.’

‘What’s that you say?’ Jean looked at her.

Stella stopped laughing. ‘Sorry, Jean, we were just talking about fruit—’

‘Oranges,’ Evie said quickly. ‘We were just discussing the best way to preserve them. Thick- or thin-shred marmalade?’

‘My ma swears by thick,’ Jean said as she poured their tea.

‘Thick it is then.’ Stella bit her lip. ‘Thank you, Jean.’

The girls managed to hold in their laughter until they were at their table.

‘Oh,’ Evie gasped. ‘It’s not fair. Even Jean is being romanced. Look at us, in the prime of our life, sitting at home night after night reading our tech
manuals.’

‘We haven’t got the time for romance, darling. There are planes to fly.’ Stella sipped her tea. ‘Did you hear? One of our Ansons rammed a Heinkel. Smashed the thing to
pieces.’

‘Really? Who was the pilot?’

‘I don’t know, but Jerry had better watch out. We may be unarmed but we’re still dangerous.’

 

14

The days passed quickly as the girls immersed themselves in training. They flew until dusk, and often Evie and Beau returned to base just as everything was closing up, weary
figures in silhouette streaming from the offices and huts to the coaches for their journey home. Evie found she looked forward to flying with Beau more and more. She soloed after ten hours’
instruction with him, but when she flew alone on her cross-country trips it was Beau’s voice she heard talking her calmly through the procedures. In spite of herself, she found she missed him
as she performed endless circuits and bumps, and soared high above the mosaic of fields below. Yet when she thought of him, and Olivia, doubts nagged at her. She wanted to ask him why Olivia had
been so cruel, but every time she imagined having it out with him, she faltered. Evie was ashamed at how much Olivia’s words had stung.

‘He’s an enigma,’ she said to Megan as she unpacked the groceries from the market. ‘I’ve never met anyone quite like him. He’s arrogant, moody
…’

‘Sounds like you’ve met your match,’ Megan laughed as Evie passed her the last of the packets from her basket.

‘Oh, nonsense. I can hold my own with our Wing Commander.’ Evie hung her coat on the pegs by the back door.

‘How are you getting on?’

‘Not too bad,’ Megan said. ‘I think I’ll get my wings—’

Evie glanced at her. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Oh, it’s nothing really. Just some of the men teasing me.’ The colour rose in her cheeks. ‘One of them called me Pilot Officer Prune the other day when I messed
something up, and now wherever I go it’s “Hello Pruney”. I’m not that bad. I don’t get everything wrong. It’s just taken me a while to get to grips with the
technical bits.’

‘You passed your exams.’

‘Just. I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t helped me understand everything. Everything comes easily to you, you’re so lucky.’ Her eyes fell. ‘I wish I was more like
you. You came top of the class.’

‘Well, I’m a girly swot aren’t I?’ Evie nudged her. ‘You’ll be fine with whatever else they throw at us,’ she said kindly.

‘Yes, yes I will,’ Megan said.

Evie pulled a face. ‘Gosh, I’m dead beat. I tell you something, I am sick to death of food queues and shopping bags.’ She kicked off her shoes. ‘When I popped into
Fortnum & Mason’s last leave day, their displays were dazzling, but it was all condiments. I want a good roast chicken.’ She licked her lips as she imagined a crispy golden bird
fresh from the oven.

‘Hands off my hens!’ Megan laughed. ‘How about eggs instead? I see you managed to get a bit of extra butter.’

Evie perched on one of the wobbly old kitchen stools. ‘It’s all about buying by personality, darling,’ she said as she lit a cigarette, resting her head against the wall. She
tapped her lighter on the red Formica table. ‘I’ve always made sure to be charming to shop people. Imagine how tedious their work is, and how ghastly most people are to them.’

‘Do you miss being able to buy nice things? I mean, you’re so—’

‘Rich?’ Evie exhaled a plume of smoke. ‘No, I don’t. Anyway I’m not rich. Daddy has always been incredibly strict about cash. If I wanted something nice I had to
save up for it. I won’t get a bean of my own money until I’m twenty-one.’

‘I just assumed …’

‘Yes, well, it seems a lot of people have made the wrong assumptions about me.’ She flicked her cigarette. ‘Now Virginia has arranged for my allowance to be cut off, I’m
bumping along on my salary just like everyone else. We all have to do what we can.’

‘Hello, darling, how did you get on? Shall I fix us some lunch?’ Stella swung through the kitchen laden down with card and paper.

‘No, don’t worry, I’ll rustle something up in a minute.’

‘Are you done with that copy of
Tatler
? I’m just sorting out the salvage.’

‘Yes thanks.’ Evie stubbed out her cigarette and padded over to the pantry. ‘How about an omelette?’ she called.

‘Sounds good. I’ll just go and finish up the laundry,’ Stella said.

‘Thank goodness she’s cheered up,’ Megan whispered.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Ooh, she really snapped at me this morning.’

‘I’m sure she didn’t mean it. Everyone is tired and on edge at the moment.’

Megan frowned. ‘No, she was really horrible. “What have you got to be so bloody cheerful about?” That’s what she said. As if it’s a crime to be happy.’

Evie could see Stella moving around in the lean-to, her shadow just visible through the opaque glass in the door as she lowered laundry into the tub. ‘I wouldn’t let it bother you,
darling. Stella’s only really content when she’s doing something, it seems to me. When she’s mooching around, well, perhaps her thoughts get too much for her. Imagine what
it’s like to lose your husband, and then to have to send your baby away.’

As Megan laid the table, Evie whisked eggs and set about cooking lunch. The girls looked up as someone knocked on the front door.

‘I’ll go. Are you expecting anyone?’ Megan asked as she hurried to answer it.

‘No.’ Evie wiped her hands on her apron.

Megan’s voice drifted through to the kitchen. ‘Hello, can I help you?’ she said. ‘Yes, do come in.’ As she pushed open the door, sunlight spread across the floor of
the living room. A dark figure stepped in and removed his hat.

‘Hello,’ Michael said. ‘I do hope I’m not disturbing you.’ As he unwound his scarf and Evie saw his dog collar she put two and two together.

‘Not at all. You must be Michael? Stella’s just in the dhobi room if you want to go through.’ She indicated the back of the cottage with a toss of her head as she cooked.

Once Michael was safely out of the way, Megan scampered over. ‘Blimey, he’s a bit of a dreamboat for a vicar.’

‘I know!’ Evie flipped the omelette onto a plate and cut it in two. ‘Still, from what Stella said to me the other day, they’re just friends.’

‘It’s a shame. It would be nice to see her cheer up a bit.’

‘I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. It’s probably too soon after Richard for her to be out romancing, even with a vicar. Shall we start? I have a feeling we won’t
be seeing Stella for a while.’

‘East of the sun …’ Stella sang under her breath as she scrubbed the sheets on the board. She stopped to wipe a strand of hair from her face. At her side the
woollens were soaking in Lux, the fresh scent of soap powder filling the air. She sensed someone watching, and swivelled around quickly.

‘Hello,’ Michael said.

‘Michael! What a lovely surprise. I’m sorry, I must look a frightful mess.’

‘No, not at all.’ He smiled as he stepped closer to her. The light danced over them, filtered softly through the opaque roof of the laundry room. ‘You have a little
…’ He hesitated, reached up, almost touched her face.

Stella brushed the fine bubbles away. ‘Thank you.’

‘I hope you don’t mind me dropping in unannounced, but you don’t have a telephone, and I was visiting one of the land girls at the farm.’

‘No, no, not at all.’ Stella tidied away a packet of Vim and a cleaning cloth by the old sink.

‘I brought you that book about Stanley Spencer I mentioned.’ Michael slipped a slim volume from his coat pocket.

‘Thank you,’ she said again, awkwardly wiping her raw, red hands on a cloth and taking it from him. She flicked through the images. ‘These are beautiful.’

‘I thought, perhaps … If you haven’t seen his work at Cookham. Would you like to …’

‘Oh, yes, very much,’ she met his gaze.

‘One day when the weather clears up.’

‘Perhaps we could cycle up there?’

‘That would be marvellous.’

She tucked the book into the pocket of her apron. ‘Would you like to stay for some lunch?’

‘I’d love to, but I have to get back to White Waltham. Parish meeting.’

She tried to hide her disappointment. ‘Another time.’

‘How are you?’ he asked as she led him around the outside of the house. The birds were singing in the crisp air, the first leaves emerging from the bare trees, shimmering in the
sunlight.

‘Busy,’ she said. ‘Flying every day now, and the final test is coming up.’

Stella paused by the gate.

‘Well, do call in and see me again soon.’ Michael’s smile creased his eyes as he gazed down at her. ‘I mean it, anytime you’re passing. It’s so nice to find a
kindred spirit here. There aren’t many people I can talk to about art, and Singapore.’

‘Yes, I’m so glad we’re friends.’

Michael hesitated. ‘Yes. Yes, absolutely.’ He put his hat on as he stepped out into the lane and turned to her, smiled shyly. ‘If you can persuade your friends to come along to
St Mary’s on a Sunday, the vicar would be delighted to see you. So would I.’

Stella leant against the gatepost, watching as Michael walked up the lane, head bent against the chill breeze. Stalin chirruped a greeting and wound himself around her ankles. ‘Where have
you been?’ she asked. She knew better than to try and pick him up – the girls all had the scars to prove he wasn’t mellowing with domesticity. As he reached the road, Michael
turned and looked back, raised his hand. ‘See you soon,’ Stella called as she waved, the wind catching her words.

 

15

On the day of her final test, Evie paced nervously outside the offices at White Waltham, smoking a cigarette while she waited for her instructor. From inside, the sound of
raised voices drifted out to her.

‘I don’t ruddy care what the rumours are …’ she heard as the door opened. She moved closer to hear what was going on.

‘Gentlemen!’ She heard Pauline Gower’s voice. ‘Would you mind keeping it down? Some of us have a war of our own to deal with.’

‘I’m sorry, Commander.’

With a start, Evie realised it was Beau.

‘What’s this all about?’ Pauline said.

‘This … this buffoon, Parker, has been implying I’m some kind of spy!’ he exploded.

‘I can assure you I haven’t,’ Teddy said. Evie could picture the expression on his face as he spoke. Smooth, blank eyed like a pike.

‘I do hope not,’ Pauline said firmly.

‘I merely mentioned it was interesting that Wing Commander Beaufort’s father was in the Luftwaffe, and increasingly Jerry seems to know our movements. These Germans are clever
chaps—’

‘Why you…!’ Beau shouted.

‘Beaufort!’ Pauline barked.

‘How did you find that out anyway? I haven’t told a soul.’

Evie’s stomach lurched because she knew what was coming next.

‘I had a most interesting conversation with Miss Chase this morning over coffee.’

‘Did you indeed?’

Evie could hear from his voice how furious Beau was. She felt nauseous, her blood ran cold.
Idiot
, she said to herself,
you ruddy idiot.

She had been sitting with Megan in the mess, helping her run over her notes before the test when Teddy sauntered over.

‘Mind if I join you Miss Chase?’

‘Not at all,’ she said reluctantly.

Teddy patted his pocket. ‘Damn, I’ve left my cigarettes in the office. Do you mind?’ Before Evie could answer he reached across and took a Player’s from her case.
‘Final tests today, girls?’

‘Yes,’ she said, barely looking up from the books.

‘I wouldn’t worry. All the chaps are the same, and very soon they are flying anything from a Moth to a Lanc in a day.’

Evie glanced up. ‘Why can’t women fly operational aircraft? It’s not fair.’

‘Miss Chase, you can pout and stamp your pretty little heels as much as you want, but flying fighter planes is beyond a woman’s physical and mental capabilities.’

Evie dug her nails into the palm of her hand. Calmly she raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. ‘Oh really, Teddy? We’ll see.’ She gathered her books. ‘Come on, Megan,
let’s get ready.’

Teddy stretched out, took a drag of his cigarette. ‘How are you getting on with old Beau?’

‘Fine.’ Evie hitched her jacket over her shoulder. She knew Teddy was digging for something and she wasn’t about to land Beau in trouble.

‘I never know what to make of the chap.’ Teddy inspected his nails. ‘I heard him talking German with some of the foreign pilots the other day.’

‘Well, what’s funny about that?’ Megan interrupted. ‘He’s German.’ Evie scowled at her, willing her to stop talking.

‘Is he?’ Teddy said smoothly. ‘Well, that explains a few things. Surprised he’s flying on our side.’

Megan tried to make amends. ‘His father is flying with the Luftwaffe, but his mother is French.’ She nodded, full of authority.

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