Wave Me Goodbye. Ruby Jackson

become a good dancer; honestly, you have a great sense of rhythm.’

      Great sense of rhythm. She had heard those words before. Who had said them? Sally. It was Sally Brewer and she had been talking about Sam. Grace closed her eyes and conjured up a picture of Sam, but the picture did not want to form. She was here in Bedfordshire with Jack Williams, who thought she was pretty. Without regret, she felt the dream of Sam float away.

      Sam will always be special, she thought, but this is different. That morning, she had had her first short driving lesson with Jack, who was nothing like Sam. Jack was not quite so tall as Sam, and he was more slender, but she was delighted to find that, like Sam, he was kind. He seemed to know that she was nervous and spoke quietly and approvingly. She felt herself respond to him. Such joy not to be shouted at, not to be found wanting. For a second, sitting there beside him in the lorry, she had wanted to push his slightly too long dark hair out of his brown eyes but had managed to control her hand. She blushed now at the memory. How forward that would have been. What would he have thought?

      He had noticed her blush. ‘It is a bit hot,’ he said, ‘and Lady Alice says we’re supposed to mingle with the locals. Besides, I can see lots of lads who want me to break a leg so that they can dance with the prettiest girl in the hall.’

      Grace, aware only of Jack and the music, looked around the room. Yes, several men were looking in their direction. ‘They want to be able to dance like you, Jack.’

      He laughed. ‘Believe me, that’s not it. We’d best join the others.’

      With a final flourish, he steered her across the room to the table where their friends were. There was beer and cider to drink, and plates of tiny sandwiches were on all the tables. The empty glasses on their table, the crumbs and a crust or two showed just what a good time was being had.

      ‘Is this what’s called height-of-sophistication party food, Jack, lad?’ asked Harry, pointing to the few tiny sandwiches that were left.

      ‘In wartime, yes.’

      ‘You were right about the music, Grace,’ said the very happy Harry, as he lurched to his feet. ‘Anyone ready for another beer?’

      He ambled off and was soon seen standing in a corner near the stage, drinking his second beer and tapping his foot to the music.

      ‘Is he all right?’

      ‘He’s a responsible adult, Grace. Esau, are you sure you don’t want to dance or join some of your old friends?’

      ‘Benefit of age, lad; they’ve been over while you two were dancing.’