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Authors: Lilian Harry
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asked instead, ‘Are the two new boys ready to go out with the squadron yet?’
‘Next week. That’s why it’d be a good idea to give them a bit of a shindig. Not that the chaps don’t have a brawl in the mess most evenings, but something more civilised might go down well. What are you planning?’
‘Well, I thought I might get May to come in and help me with the food. She might do some baking beforehand, if we can get the rations.’
‘That’s the stuff. They’d sell you a pat or two of butter too, wouldn’t they, and a few eggs and some cream?’
‘They might. They’d rather give it to me, though. Honestly, you’ve no idea how generous they are, Andrew. I know they have their own cow and hens but they don’t have to give it all away. I hardly dare mention a thing for fear Mrs Prettyjohn will wrap it up and press it into my hands.’
‘Well, why not come to an arrangement? Tell them that if they offer you something you’ll accept it – as long as it’s not too much – but if you actually ask for something, they’ve got to sell it to you. And then don’t give them too many opportunities to offer first!’
Alison laughed. ‘I’ll do that. And I’ll pay May for her help. How many shall we ask?’
‘Well, all the squadron, of course. Robin and Jackie, and all the rest – you know them already. But we’ve got some Poles coming soon – might ask them along, if they’re here by the weekend.’
‘Poles?’ She looked at him blankly for a moment, then her face cleared. ‘Oh, you mean Polish airmen! Oh yes, ask them as well. I just hope we’ve got room for everyone.’
‘You don’t need enough room at a party,’ he said. ‘You need not quite enough – much more fun! It’ll be quite a celebration. A welcome, I mean, for the new bods.’
‘Mm.’ Alison looked at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ‘Actually, it might be more of a celebration than you think.’
‘Why?’ He twisted his neck to peer into her face. ‘What’s happening? Is someone coming to stay? Your parents – mine? You haven’t said anything before.’
Alison gave him a mysterious look. ‘Someone’s coming to stay, but it’s not my parents, or yours. Still, it’s not quite certain yet. You’ll have to wait and see.’ She kissed his nose and swung her feet to the floor. ‘And now you can go out in the garden and play with your son while I get our dinner ready and start thinking about the party. You do realise we’re on rations, don’t you. It won’t exactly be a lavish spread.’
‘Some of Mrs Prettyjohn’s bread and your home-made jam will do,’ he said, trying unsuccessfully to pull her back on to his lap. ‘And I want to know who’s coming to stay. It’s not fair, keeping me in the dark like this. I shouldn’t have to worry about things when I’m flying my new Typhoon.’ His plaintive tone had no effect on Alison, who merely ruffled his thick, dark hair.
‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ she said heartlessly. ‘You’ll be pleased, I can tell you that – and that’s all I am going to tell you. Just wait and see.’
She whisked away into the kitchen, leaving her husband lying back in the armchair, warmed by her affection. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t come home in the evenings, he thought. I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t got Alison to make things bearable.
It had cost him enormous effort to come into the house that evening as if he were a normal man, coming home from a normal day’s work. As if nothing bad had happened. As if he’d enjoyed every moment, just as Alison seemed to have enjoyed every moment of her day, picking blackberries, making jam and pies, planning a party. And this surprise visitor, who was presumably going to be here in time for the party.
Well, whoever it was, she had obviously made up her mind it was to be a nice surprise, and God knew he could do with one of those at the moment. And somehow he was going to have to
‘Next week. That’s why it’d be a good idea to give them a bit of a shindig. Not that the chaps don’t have a brawl in the mess most evenings, but something more civilised might go down well. What are you planning?’
‘Well, I thought I might get May to come in and help me with the food. She might do some baking beforehand, if we can get the rations.’
‘That’s the stuff. They’d sell you a pat or two of butter too, wouldn’t they, and a few eggs and some cream?’
‘They might. They’d rather give it to me, though. Honestly, you’ve no idea how generous they are, Andrew. I know they have their own cow and hens but they don’t have to give it all away. I hardly dare mention a thing for fear Mrs Prettyjohn will wrap it up and press it into my hands.’
‘Well, why not come to an arrangement? Tell them that if they offer you something you’ll accept it – as long as it’s not too much – but if you actually ask for something, they’ve got to sell it to you. And then don’t give them too many opportunities to offer first!’
Alison laughed. ‘I’ll do that. And I’ll pay May for her help. How many shall we ask?’
‘Well, all the squadron, of course. Robin and Jackie, and all the rest – you know them already. But we’ve got some Poles coming soon – might ask them along, if they’re here by the weekend.’
‘Poles?’ She looked at him blankly for a moment, then her face cleared. ‘Oh, you mean Polish airmen! Oh yes, ask them as well. I just hope we’ve got room for everyone.’
‘You don’t need enough room at a party,’ he said. ‘You need not quite enough – much more fun! It’ll be quite a celebration. A welcome, I mean, for the new bods.’
‘Mm.’ Alison looked at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ‘Actually, it might be more of a celebration than you think.’
‘Why?’ He twisted his neck to peer into her face. ‘What’s happening? Is someone coming to stay? Your parents – mine? You haven’t said anything before.’
Alison gave him a mysterious look. ‘Someone’s coming to stay, but it’s not my parents, or yours. Still, it’s not quite certain yet. You’ll have to wait and see.’ She kissed his nose and swung her feet to the floor. ‘And now you can go out in the garden and play with your son while I get our dinner ready and start thinking about the party. You do realise we’re on rations, don’t you. It won’t exactly be a lavish spread.’
‘Some of Mrs Prettyjohn’s bread and your home-made jam will do,’ he said, trying unsuccessfully to pull her back on to his lap. ‘And I want to know who’s coming to stay. It’s not fair, keeping me in the dark like this. I shouldn’t have to worry about things when I’m flying my new Typhoon.’ His plaintive tone had no effect on Alison, who merely ruffled his thick, dark hair.
‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ she said heartlessly. ‘You’ll be pleased, I can tell you that – and that’s all I am going to tell you. Just wait and see.’
She whisked away into the kitchen, leaving her husband lying back in the armchair, warmed by her affection. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t come home in the evenings, he thought. I don’t know what I’d do if I hadn’t got Alison to make things bearable.
It had cost him enormous effort to come into the house that evening as if he were a normal man, coming home from a normal day’s work. As if nothing bad had happened. As if he’d enjoyed every moment, just as Alison seemed to have enjoyed every moment of her day, picking blackberries, making jam and pies, planning a party. And this surprise visitor, who was presumably going to be here in time for the party.
Well, whoever it was, she had obviously made up her mind it was to be a nice surprise, and God knew he could do with one of those at the moment. And somehow he was going to have to
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