‘Well, we can’t join the ATS or anything like that. We’re not old enough yet. Dad would have to sign the forms ’cos we aren’t twenty-one and you know that he wouldn’t.’
Sam was a loving and protective father, and it was true that he would not want to see them enlisting and going into uniform, preferring to keep them close to home. Their mother would support him in that decision as well.
‘We could lie about our ages. I heard of someone who did that and—’
‘But they probably looked older; we don’t even look sixteen properly,’ Sasha pointed out to her twin.
It was always Lou who came up with the ideas and Sasha who pointed out the pitfalls in them.
But now it was Sasha who said quietly, ‘We could always try to find out if—’
And Lou who stopped her with a quick, ‘No, we can’t do that. I know we said that we wanted to join ENSA but we can’t now, not after what happened. It wouldn’t be fair to Mum and Dad.’
‘No,’ Sasha agreed.
The twins had been mad on music and dancing for as long as they and their family could remember. They had driven their father to distraction with the music they played upstairs in their bedroom on their gramophone player as they practised the dance routines they had seen at the pictures, adapting them and even making up their own routines – and they were good, they both knew that.
With their mum’s youngest sister, their auntie Francine, already a singer and a member of ENSA, they had reasoned that if they could just get a bit of stage experience themselves then they could end up famous, and even perhaps go to Hollywood and be in pictures themselves.
But things had gone badly wrong, and five nights ago, on the night that should have been their big moment, they had quarrelled very badly. Whilst Liverpool was being bombed they had come close to losing one another for ever, and they both knew they would never forget how that had felt.
‘No more dancing,’ Lou had said fiercely, when finally everyone had stopped fussing and they were on their own together in the safety of their shared bedroom.
‘And no more … boys,’ Sasha had said firmly.
‘So what are we going to do now?’ Lou asked her twin now, straightening her blouse collar in front of the mirror.
‘We’ll have to find war work of some kind,’ Sasha told her as they left Lewis’s premises for the last time.
For a moment Lou’s eyes lit up with their old enthusiasm, but then she shook her head.
‘We’ve just said that we can’t join up or anything, and Mum’s made us promise that we won’t go into munitions.’
‘Mmm, I know.’
They looked at one another again. It was hard not to feel dispirited, especially when everyone else seemed to be busy doing something.
‘Come on,’ Lou announced, linking her arm through her twin’s. ‘Let’s go home. Do you think there’ll be another air raid tonight?’
‘I expect so,’ Sasha answered. ‘Although it doesn’t look like there’s much left to bomb really. No, not that way,’ she told Lou sharply as her twin made to cross the road in the direction of the Royal Court Theatre.
Sasha’s colour was high, and of course Lou knew why. She was afraid that the cause of their quarrel might come walking out of the theatre, and she was afraid because despite what she had told her, really Sasha was keen on Kieran Mallory, the good-looking young man who had been making up to them both behind each other’s back, and whose uncle worked at the Royal Court Theatre.
A feeling of intense pain gripped Lou. She and Sasha had made up their quarrel and outwardly they were, if anything, even closer than they had been before. They had both sworn that they were never ever going to let anything or anyone come between them again, but despite all the effort they were both putting into pretending that nothing had changed they both knew that something had.
The doctor had finished examining Charlie and now he looked down at him, announcing, ‘Well, Private Firth, everything seems to be in order, so I think we can safely discharge you. Go and see the almoner first thing tomorrow morning and she’ll sort you out with everything you’ll need and let your commanding officer know that you’ve been discharged as fit to return to duty.’
He wouldn’t really mind going back, Charlie admitted. He’d missed his jaunts into London and the fun to be had there.
Charlie had quickly discovered that there was nothing quite like the threat of war to weaken a certain kind of girl’s willpower along with her knicker elastic. It was a pity his mother had made such a fuss about his suggestion that he and Daphne should delay getting married. Mind you, marriage didn’t have to stop him having a bit of fun. There was a war on, after all, and having a bit of fun didn’t mean anything; it was just a bit of fun, with no harm done.
Pity there was no chance of him persuading Daphne to come up to Wallasey to live. She’d be safely out of the way up here, but once she knew he wasn’t going to get his discharge she’d insist on staying with her parents. Daphne and her mother were very close. Luckily the Dorset village where they lived was a good two hours’ drive away from camp, so he’d have an excuse for not going down if he felt like doing something else instead – like going to London.
Charlie had no illusions about what he could expect from his marriage. Daphne was a ‘good’ girl. He would have known that even if both she and her parents had not told him so.
But it wasn’t because he wanted to take her to bed that Charlie had planned to marry her. What man in his right mind wanted a wife who knew how to lure a man on and excite him? Not him. That kind of wife could cause a man a lot of trouble. No, Charlie had decided to marry Daphne because of who she was, not what she was. Daphne’s parents had money and status in the small village where they lived and they thought he was wonderful because they believed he had tried to save their son’s life. Initially Charlie had basked in their gratitude but gradually, like Daphne’s adoration, it had become something he had taken for granted.
Daphne had said several times recently that she wished they did not have to live so far away from her parents. Whilst his mother was openly delighted at the prospect of having her daughter-in-law living so close, Charlie suspected that Daphne did not share her enthusiasm. Now she would be able to continue to live with her parents, which would please her, just as much as it would suit him. Talk about having your cake and eating it, Charlie thought happily.
Charlie liked fun and excitement, he liked fast cars and pretty girls, he liked the clubs in London that welcomed young men like him, and understood what a chap wanted and supplied it very discreetly, whether it was a drink or a girl.
Now, he told himself confidently, even though he couldn’t get out of the army his father was bound to make him a decent allowance. After all, he was going to be a married man and his father couldn’t expect a girl like Daphne, whose father was a Name at Lloyd’s, to live on a private’s wages.
Yes, the more Charlie thought about his future the more pleased with himself he felt.
Katie could feel the tension in the Campions’ kitchen as soon as she walked in. She was later getting in from work than normal because they had all had to work over to deal with the extra workload caused by the bombs disrupting the delivery service and the girls who had not come into work.
The first thing she’d done was to go upstairs to wash her hands and face, and change out of her office clothes and into an old summer dress, which she could tuck into her siren suit without spoiling it when the air-raid siren went off. Now, coming back down, she glanced round the table and could see how on edge and anxious Jean looked. That alone was enough to cause Katie’s own tummy to tense