Beauty Chorus, The (27 page)

As he guided her to his Triumph, she said, ‘I heard … I heard what Jack did, that he hit Teddy for telling lies about me.’ Evie looked at him, her face full of anguish.
‘Why did you tell him? He didn’t need to know.’

‘Yes he did.’ He turned to her. ‘If you were my girl and someone like Parker was spreading rumours about you, I’d want to know.’

‘Maybe you’re right.’ Her head fell. ‘How bad was it?’

‘Doyle and Stent held him down while Teddy beat the living daylights out of him, from what I saw.’

She began to cry again. ‘Couldn’t you help him?’

‘It was too late by the time I saw what was going on. Your chap said he felt fine.’

‘But if he was hurt. If he had something wrong … What if his reactions were off?’

Beau got onto the bike, kicked it off its stand. Evie clambered on behind him, wrapped her arms around him. She felt him take a deep breath and exhale slowly. ‘Evie, I’ve seen men
killed for far stupider reasons. You can’t blame anyone for this – not even that cad Teddy. Jack did what he thought was right, and he died doing what he loved to do –
flying.’ Beau placed his hand gently over hers. ‘Let that be some comfort to you.’

As they roared out of the airfield, she leant against his back, her arms tight around his waist. Nothing seemed real any more, the fields and cars whizzing past. It all seemed false, off key.
After a few minutes Beau swerved into the lane and pulled up outside the girls’ cottage.

‘Thank you,’ she said as she jumped off the bike. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

‘Would you like me to stay for a while? Make sure you’re OK? I can’t cook, but …’ Evie shook her head. ‘Get some sleep then,’ he said gently. When she
didn’t answer, he turned, looked full at her. ‘No one is to blame,’ he said. ‘You made Jack very happy in his last few weeks. Hold on to that. As for the fight with Teddy,
well he was just defending your honour.’

‘Why are men so stupid? I’m perfectly capable of defending myself against some fool like Teddy.’

Beau folded his arms, flashed a quick, sad smile. ‘I’m sure you are. But sometimes we chaps like to feel needed.’

Evie fought the tears that she felt welling in her eyes again. ‘It’s so unfair.’

‘Who said war was fair?’ Beau said bitterly. ‘Innocent people, good people, babies and children who haven’t even had the chance to start living – hundreds,
thousands are dying every day because of this damn nightmare. Why should things be fair for us? We’re nothing special.’ He shook his head. ‘I wish I could say something that can
help, but there’s nothing, no rhyme or reason that can make sense of this.’ Beau took her hand and squeezed it. ‘If I can do anything, anything at all, you know where I am.’
He roared up the lane, dust and fumes settling in his wake as Evie stood alone and the light fell away around her.

27

That night, she cried herself to sleep on the sofa. Evie had never felt so alone. Even Stalin wanted nothing to do with her, staring balefully at her from the doorway.

At daybreak she stumbled to the bathroom, ran the bath, and crouched naked on the floor of the tub, weeping as it filled. She replayed again and again every moment she had had with him. The
first time she had seen him, his dazzling smile as he helped her from the plane. She remembered his laugh, how it felt when they danced together in each other’s arms. He was so alive –
how could he possibly be gone? His loss was a physical pain for her; it felt as if her body was turning in on itself.

A few hours later, Stella came home to find her still in her dressing gown, curled up in a foetal position in her narrow single bed. ‘Evie?’ she said gently. ‘I am so sorry. I
got stuck out. I’ve been on the train all night. I just heard …’

‘He’s gone,’ Evie managed to say, before more tears came. Stella held her for hours, rocking her like a baby in her arms, soothing her as each fresh wave of grief engulfed her.
Megan arrived back in the afternoon, and ran straight upstairs.

‘How is she?’ she asked as she caught her breath in the doorway. Stella shook her head. ‘Has she eaten? Are you hungry, Evie?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I never want to eat again.’

‘Right, I’m going to make some soup.’ Megan said firmly. Moments later they could hear her clattering around in the kitchen.

Evie pushed herself up in bed. ‘It can’t be true,’ she said. ‘Perhaps he’s just hurt somewhere. Missing presumed killed can mean just missing …’

Stella shook her head. ‘Beau made some calls this morning. He has friends out at Jack’s base.’

‘What did he find out?’

‘They saw his plane go down, Evie. There was a dogfight, a Messerschmidt. They had orders to recce a convoy that was having some trouble.’ She paused. ‘It took out two planes
over the sea. They managed to get a boat to the first pilot, but by the time they got to Jack …’

‘What? Tell me everything.’

‘His plane was completely burnt out. By the time they reached him, there was nothing left. The wreck sank.’

Evie felt sick as she thought of the flames. ‘I hope he was dead by the time he went down. The thought of him trapped in there …’

‘Beau was pretty cut up about it. You see, it’s exactly what happened to him.’

‘But he managed to get back and Jack didn’t.’

She stroked her hair away from her face. ‘We both know this could happen to any of us at anytime,’ Stella said. ‘This world is full of “what ifs” and
“maybes”. Every time we get in a plane, it could be our number is up.’

‘What, so it was just Jack’s turn? His luck ran out?’ Her face twisted.

Stella took her hand. ‘Evie, you gave Jack the happiest days of his life in the last few months. Remember that.’

‘I just can’t bear it. Is this what you’ve been living with all these months since losing Richard? How do you cope?’

Stella stood awkwardly. ‘One day at a time.’

*

The girls were back at work the next day, so Evie found herself alone again in the house. She walked forlornly from room to room in her dressing gown, not able to settle anywhere. Everything
reminded her of Jack – the wedding magazines the girls had been poring over, the Sinatra record on the gramophone. It felt as if her entire future had been extinguished in a heartbeat. Evie
curled up in a ball on the armchair, tucked up beneath a heavy wool blanket. How on earth was she supposed to carry on?

Towards noon there was a knock, and Evie dragged herself out of her reverie to open the front door.

‘Hello, Evie,’ Mary said. Her face fell, full of compassion. ‘My dear girl, I am so terribly sorry.’ The women embraced, fresh tears coming to their eyes.

‘How did you hear?’

‘Captain Bailey rang your father – you know they’re old friends. Lucky thought you might find it easier to talk to me than Virginia.’

‘That’s something of an understatement.’

‘Now,’ Mary said. ‘I have my car here. How about I drive you into town and we have lunch at Skindles? A bit of fresh air will do you the world of good.’

‘I don’t think I can.’

Mary shook her head. ‘Normally, my dear, I would advise you to take as long as you need, but the fact is at the moment one has no choice but to carry on.’ She squeezed Evie’s
hand. ‘You’ll find there’s comfort in working. It’s much healthier than languishing.’

‘So I’m supposed to forget all about Jack? Pretend this never happened?’ Her face contorted with misery.

‘No, darling,’ Mary said. ‘Of course not. It’s just we have to be brave, to fight on …’ She took a deep breath, composed herself. ‘Since Charles was
killed, there have been plenty of days I’ve wondered how to carry on. But one must, so we may as well start today. First things first – let’s get you out of your
pyjamas.’

Mary picked out a dress for Evie and helped her change. As she had her hair brushed, Evie succumbed to being treated like a child. She gazed at her own pale face in the
dressing-table mirror and it was like looking at a stranger.

‘You’re such a pretty girl, Evie, it breaks my heart to see you looking so sad and tired.’ Mary handed her a tube of lipstick. ‘It’s a cliché but time does
heal. Try and concentrate on the good times you shared with Jack. People think whirlwind romances pass quickly, but sometimes they are the most intense, glorious times of your life.’

Evie thought of the uncomplicated joy and exhilaration she’d felt barrelling along the lanes on the old motorbike with Jack. ‘He made me feel so happy, so alive …’

‘You’re young, darling. You will find love again.’ Mary fell silent. ‘Your father is worried about you, you know.’

‘Is he? I bet Virginia is rubbing her hands with glee.’

Mary sighed. ‘I know.’ Evie caught her gaze in the mirror. ‘I’m not blind, Evie. I know what she can be like.’

‘I thought—’

Mary squeezed her shoulders gently. ‘Lucky misses you. Don’t let Virginia drive you apart. That’s just what she wants.’

They drove to Skindles in silence. Evie watched the fields and meadows fly by as if at a great distance. She looked up at the aircraft overhead, all the traffic passing to and
fro, and wondered what it was all for.

‘Here we are.’ Mary pulled into the gravelled courtyard and parked her little car near the entrance. She came around to Evie’s side and took her arm.

‘It’s awfully kind of you to do this,’ Evie said. She inhaled deeply, breathed in the scent of freshly mown grass.

‘Darling, it’s the least I can do.’ Mary led her into the foyer. ‘Did Lucky tell you I’d offered to help arrange the wedding?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen Daddy for a few weeks.’

Mary noticed Evie’s eyes beginning to well up again as she looked around the restaurant. ‘Would you like some air?’

‘No, I’m perfectly fine.’ Evie composed herself, took a deep breath. ‘It’s just I hoped the next time we had lunch together here it would be under happier
circumstances. The reception …’

‘Oh Lord, how tactless of me to bring you here. Would you rather go somewhere else?’ Mary took her arm as Evie shook her head. ‘You dear girl, how I wish I could wave a magic
wand …’

‘Well, you are my godmother.’ Evie nudged her.

‘I said to Lucky the other day, I’ll never forget how kind you were to me when Charles was killed. I’d always hoped you and he might marry, you know. He was terribly fond of
you.’

‘Charles was like my brother. Peter too.’ Evie said sadly. ‘That’s funny, though – I always hoped you and Daddy might get together.’

Mary’s eyes filled with mirth. ‘Lucky and me? What a hoot. I’m not nearly racy enough for your father. No, there’s been no one for me since Charles’ father was
killed during the Great War.’

The maître d’ showed them to a table overlooking the gardens. Fresh new leaves were dancing on the trees, and spring flowers peppered the borders with colour.

‘How do you go on?’ Evie asked her after they had ordered. ‘You’ve lost your husband, and now your son; I can’t imagine how to get through this. Does it get
easier?’

‘Easier? No. The loss … well, it becomes less acute. It becomes part of you.’ Mary sipped her wine. ‘You will recover, darling girl. I mean, you’re so terribly
brave. I think you ATA girls are heroines.’

Evie shook her head. ‘No, no we’re not. I’m just doing my job, Mary, that’s all. Flying a plane is no different to driving a car when you know how. In fact we have some
girls, like Meggie, who can fly a plane but not drive a car. There’s nothing glamorous about our work. It does annoy some of the chaps that we get so much attention just because we are
women.’

‘I can imagine. Is there ever any trouble?’

‘Oh, silly things. One of the girls found she couldn’t take off the other day because someone – presumably one of the chaps with a grudge – had put sugar in her petrol
tank.’

‘No! Really?’

‘You just get on with it. Most of the men are delightful but if some idiot wants to hide a piece of equipment you need to fly the plane, you bally well go and get another one.’ Evie
took a sip of wine. ‘I’ve always believed women to be capable of anything men can do, and I’m determined to do the best I can.’

Mary smiled. ‘Good for you.’

‘Did you hear? We’re doing our conversion courses for complex single-engine planes. That means when the Spitfire comes we’ll be ready.’

‘Do you really think they’ll let girls fly fighter planes?’

‘Yes, I do. I’m sure of it.’

‘There you are then, Evie. That’s something to look forward to. Thank you,’ she said as the waiter placed their first courses in front of them.

‘Pauline Gower is an inspiration – she says we should just get in, get our heads down and quietly do a better job than the men are expecting.’

‘You spend so much time alone in the air. Aren’t you ever afraid?’

‘Very rarely,’ Evie said. ‘Of course you have the odd scrape, but flying …’ She paused, twisted the sapphire ring on her finger. ‘It’s indescribable
the joy you feel, the freedom. It’s the closest you can come to heaven on earth. Sometimes it feels like you are flying with an angel on your wing.’ She looked up and saw the
incomprehension on Mary’s face. ‘It’s hard to explain to someone who isn’t a pilot.’ She looked out at the sky. She thought of Jack, soaring out above the glittering
sea in his Hurricane. In that moment she was glad for him, for the man who had stolen her heart, that he died in the air doing what he loved.

28

For the next few weeks, as Evie completed her course, she found they gave her the easiest jobs at the ferry pool. No old warhorses on their last legs, the NEAs that all the
girls dreaded. The days went by in a blur of exhausting activity. She found if she kept busy, it dulled her emotions, stopped her thinking of Jack. Only in her room, alone, when she took her
engagement ring out of the box on her bedside table, could she grieve in peace.

Finally there came a morning she found she could look at the ring and think of him without tears. She slipped the gleaming sapphire onto her ring finger one last time and thought of all that
might have been. ‘Goodbye, Jack,’ she said, and threaded the ring onto the gold chain she wore around her neck.

‘Evie?’ Megan called through her door. ‘Are you busy?’