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Authors: Daisy Styles

BOOK: The Bomb Girls
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‘Mebbe later,' she joked.

Lillian smiled as she mopped up her tears.

‘Who'd a thowt our little Elsie would pip us all to the post!'

CHAPTER
11
The War Office

Emily's free afternoon came at last and she couldn't help herself; she'd thought of nothing but Freddie ever since that intoxicating night. After finishing her early morning shift she dashed back to the digs where she sneaked into the bathroom to make up her face and change into her best skirt and blouse. Hoping to avoid seeing her friends who might prick her conscience, Emily cautiously opened the bathroom door and peered out, only to find Alice leaning against the wall waiting for her.

‘You're meeting him, aren't you?' Alice said accusingly.

Emily wriggled in embarrassment.

‘Bill's not going to put up with you two-timing him, Em,' Alice added.

Emily threw up her arms in a mixture of frustration and guilt.

‘I know!' she cried. ‘It's a rotten thing to do but I can't get Freddie out of my head. Anyway, we're only going for a walk on the moors.'

Alice's gaze swept down to Emily's high-heeled shoes.

‘In those!' she laughed.

Emily looked at her feet and laughed too.

‘Borrow my wellingtons,' Alice urged. ‘And my hat and scarf.'

‘No, Alice! I was hoping to look a lot sexier than a land girl!' Emily joked.

Alice rolled her eyes.

‘Okay, freeze to death,' she said.

Emily gave a loud sigh as she kicked off her court shoes.

‘All right, I'll borrow your wellies, but a definite no to the hat and scarf!' she giggled.

Alice needn't have worried about Emily catching cold. The minute Freddie laid eyes on her he clasped her tightly in his arms.

‘It seems like forever since we last met,' he murmured as he kissed her.

Pressed close to him, Emily smelled yet again that intoxicating mix of pines and limes. Smothering any remaining inhibitions, she laid her face against his chest where she felt the thud of his beating heart.

‘What shall we do, Bomb Babe?' he whispered.

Smiling mischievously, Emily bent and quickly rolled a snowball.

‘Build a snowman!' she laughed.

Catching her mood, Freddie stooped to roll a snowball too.

‘Hey, just cos I'm Canadian doesn't mean to say I'm an Eskimo!' he joked.

Feeling wild and reckless, Emily whizzed her large snowball at him, he whizzed his back at her and before long they were rolling in the snow, not feeling even remotely cold as, once again, they were locked in each other's arms. Emily tasted ice and snow as Freddie hungrily kissed her, pressing her mouth open with his tongue. Startled, she pulled away from him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. This was all going a bit too fast.

‘What's the matter? Don't you like it?' he teased.

Emily couldn't respond immediately; she was thinking of Bill's sweet young kisses. Their innocent lovemaking had been tender and experimental. He'd always been wary of offending her and they'd both agreed that she would be a virgin on their wedding day. Keeping that promise had been a struggle, especially after Bill joined up. The night before he left for active service they had both longed to make love, and if it hadn't been for Bill respecting her so much they almost certainly would have.

‘I … I, er …' She stumbled over her words, but what she wanted to say to Freddie was that she'd never experienced such boldness. Frightened that he'd laugh at her naivety, she simply said, ‘It was just a bit quick.'

The frosty air rang with Freddie's loud, mocking laughter.

‘Jesus! What do you guys get off on up here in the wilderness? There's a war on, honey, how slow do you want me to be?'

Emily blushed as she struggled to her feet. For all of Freddie's sexy ways and charming looks, she wasn't having herself or her kind mocked.

‘We manage well enough,' she said with icy haughtiness as she brushed snow from her hair. ‘We certainly don't need foreigners to show us how to conduct ourselves.'

Seeing he'd gone too far, Freddie jumped to his feet.

‘Babe, I'm sorry,' he murmured as he gently took her resistant hand. ‘You just blow me away,' he added as he swept his palm across her flaming angry cheeks. ‘Forgive me, pleeease?' he begged with a heart-stopping smile.

Feeling rather silly, Emily quickly nodded and smiled.

‘Come on,' she said as she tucked her arm in his. ‘Let's walk before we freeze to death.'

Freddie smiled as he moved in close.

‘I promise not to move so fast, though I can't make any promises if you keep looking at me with those big blue eyes,' he said huskily.

After wading through snow drifts four feet high Freddie led Emily into an old, disused stable that still had a deep litter of straw on the floor. She was too cold to think beyond finding some shelter.

‘We can warm up in here,' he said as he closed the door then pulled a small flask from his inside pocket. ‘A drop of Scotch will put some fire in your veins,' he said, handing the flask to Emily, who took a sip then grimaced at the sour taste.

Freddie took a deep swig from the flask then guided Emily to an untidy heap of hay bales in a corner of the stable.

‘Come on, gorgeous, I'm going to warm you up,' he said as he threw off his coat and gently laid her on it.

Lying in Freddie's strong arms, Emily was no longer able to hold back. He soon had her hot and bothered enough to cast off her coat and Alice's wellington boots.

‘You are the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on,' he said in a voice thick with desire.

Emily couldn't believe what she was doing but, with her head in a spin and all her senses clamouring for his touch, she was lost to everything but her overwhelming need for him.

Unbidden, an image of Bill wearing his brand-new Lancashire Fusiliers uniform popped into her head. She'd
promised to wait for him, to always be there for him. As passion blazed through her, Emily thought defiantly of Bill's last disastrous visit home.

Forcing herself to stop thinking of Bill, she gripped Freddie, whose advances grew stronger as his hands went from her face and neck to her full breasts and hard nipples.

‘Take your clothes off,' he whispered. ‘Let me see you naked.'

Swept away by a passion she had never previously known, Emily moaned with desire as Freddie reached down to remove her underwear.

‘Yes,' she murmured. ‘Yes …'

A dog barking outside in the snow sent both of them jumping sky-high.

As if waking from a trance, Emily stared in disbelief at her open blouse.

‘What am I doing?' she gasped.

‘Hey, honey,' he laughed softly. ‘What does it look like we're doing?' He dipped his head to kiss her again.

‘
No!
' Emily cried as she pulled her blouse tightly around her. ‘I-I can't! I shouldn't,' she panicked. ‘I'm engaged to Bill.'

‘And he's not here,' Freddie said nonchalantly.

Stunned by his dismissive tone Emily struggled to stand up.

What was she doing? Was she out of her mind to let things go this far?

‘I'm sorry, Freddie, but this is wrong.'

‘You weren't saying that a few minutes ago,' Freddie teased. ‘Come on, don't spoil it, baby.'

Fastening the buttons on her blouse, Emily blushed as she replied, ‘Please, Freddie, can we just talk?'

‘
Talk!
' he scoffed as he stood up and angrily wiped straw off his uniform. ‘What kind of bullshit is that? One minute you're begging for it, the next you want to talk. Gimme a break!'

Realizing the enormity of her mistake in leading him on, Emily quickly apologized.

‘I'm sorry, Freddie,' she said again. ‘It's as much my fault as yours.'

‘Too right it is,' seethed Freddie. ‘Here I am freezing my ass off on the bloody moors whilst you whinge on about your stupid fiancé. How come you didn't think about lover boy sooner?'

Colour flooded Emily's face; she was ashamed of herself for giving in to Freddie and furious with him for bad-mouthing Bill. She didn't know whether to walk away or burst into tears.

‘I'm sorry …' was all she seemed able to say.

‘To hell with sorry!' snapped Freddie as he strode out of the stable, still wiping bits of straw off his Royal Canadian Air Force uniform.

Fighting back tears, Emily pulled on her coat and hurried after him, but he was storming off through the snow without a backward glance.

‘FREDDIE!' she shouted.

Still walking away, Freddie called angrily over his shoulder.

‘Go and find some other schmuck to tease!'

With her head bent and her shoulders hunched, Emily walked away, oblivious of the dog that had disturbed their
lovemaking now leaping joyously over the snow drifts with its owner, who squinted to get a better view of the pair.

‘Ten to a penny they've been up to no good,' the dog walker chuckled to himself, then he frowned as he recognized the good-looking woman with the flaming auburn hair hurrying away.

‘Bloody hell, that's Emily Yates,' he gasped in amazement. ‘Wait till young Bill finds out what she's up to in his absence!'

Back at the Phoenix Alice and Lillian were visiting Agnes and Elsie in the hospital complex. Both patients, though bruised and scratched, were now on their feet.

‘We'll soon be back working on the bomb line,' plucky Elsie joked.

‘You're going nowhere until you're properly well,' said Tommy as he laid a protective arm around her shoulder. Elsie blushed at his touch but her face was radiant with happiness.

‘Will you tell your dad?' Alice asked the happy couple.

Elsie vehemently shook her head.

‘He'd kill Tommy,' she replied with a tremor in her voice.

Looking furious, Tommy swept a hand through his fine mousy hair.

‘Who ses?' he said staunchly.

Elsie looked him straight in the eye.

‘I'm not kidding you; he'd beat up the pair of us.'

Seeing her question had upset Elsie, Alice swiftly said,
‘Not to worry. You're old enough to do what you want and your dad's far enough away not to trouble you.'

‘Just let him bloody try,' Tommy muttered under his breath.

Lillian winked as Malc came wandering down the ward towards them. ‘Oh-oh! Here comes trouble!'

‘Hiya!' Malc said as he approached.

‘Come to take the sick and the lame back to work, have you?' cheeky Lillian teased.

‘At least I didn't try to blow 'em up in the first place!' Malc retorted sharply.

Seeing poor Lillian blushing underneath her perfect make-up, Agnes chided Malc.

‘That was a bit near the bone.'

Malc shrugged.

‘I say as I see,' he replied.

‘Then try not to, it doesn't help,' Agnes replied.

Staring daggers at Malc, Lillian snapped, ‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?'

Malc nodded towards Alice.

‘Featherstone wants for't see yon brain box,' he said.

Alice looked at him in surprise. ‘
Me?
'

Malc nodded.

‘Looks like we've got more of them bloody useless French manuals for you to translate.'

As he and Alice left the ward, Lillian rolled her eyes.

‘Bastard!' she seethed. ‘As if I don't know how much trouble I've caused without him rubbing it in.'

‘You won't be calling him names when he comes chasing after you with silk nylons and chocolates,' Agnes reminded her.

‘Won't I?' Lillian replied contemptuously. ‘After the harm I've done to you and Elsie my days with Malc are well and truly over!'

Once inside Mr Featherstone's office Alice looked around for the French manuals she presumed she'd be translating.

‘Sit down, Alice,' said Mr Featherstone stiffly.

Alice immediately sensed his tension.

‘Is something wrong?'

Mr Featherstone shook his head.

‘Far from it, young lady,' he replied as he politely pulled out a chair for her. As soon as Alice was settled, he continued, ‘How do you fancy taking your French skills a step further?'

Alice looked at Mr Featherstone in disbelief. How could he, the boss of a bomb factory, help her improve her French?

‘Well …' she said slowly. ‘I'm always keen to learn more but I'm not sure how that can be achieved right now in Pendle.'

‘We're not talking Pendle, Alice, we're talking London – the War Office, to be precise.' Mr Featherstone paused to let the enormity of his words sink in. ‘The powers that be are recruiting fluent French speakers like you.'

‘Oh, well, I'm not sure I'd call myself absolutely fluent, Mr Featherstone,' Alice protested.

‘You're far too modest, Alice,' he insisted. ‘Anyway I've let it be known to the powers above …'

What
is he talking about? Alice wondered as she watched Mr Featherstone rock complacently up and down from his toes to his heels.

‘I had no hesitation in telling them that we've got a regular little French speaker right here at the Phoenix, who is an excellent Bomb Girl to boot,' Mr Featherstone concluded with a proud smile.

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