eyes.
I felt a sudden emptiness inside me. “What’s she in trouble over?” I asked.
“She was very secretive about it, my dear.” Again I was aware of that gleam in her eye. I felt uncomfortable. “You’re not by any chance the cause of it, are you? You didn’t seem to waste much time last night.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had a horrid premonition. And because I feared that she might be right, I felt tongue-tied. I was suddenly aware that the whole table was silent, listening to our conversation.
She squeezed my arm in a friendly gesture. “It’s all right. I’ll give her your love.” And she gave me a sugar-sweet smile.
I replied with what I fancy must have been a very sheepish grin and went with the others out of the tent. As we crossed the square to the big block of the Naafi Institute, behind which was the supper canteen, Kan said: “She’s a little bitch, isn’t she?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I was a bit vulnerable,wasn’t I? I’d arranged to meet Marion there at seven and she didn’t turn up.”
He laughed. “She’s still a little bitch. You don’t know Elaine. She can be really sweet, though her ‘my dears’ are a bit reminiscent of the cheap side of Piccadilly. At other times she’s just a cat. Tiny thinks she’s a paragon of all the virtues. He’s very simple. But she’s as promiscuous as it’s possible to be in a camp. She just naturally wants every man she sees.”
I said nothing. What was there to say? I didn’t care a damn about Elaine. What was worrying me was why Marion had got into trouble.
“You’re very moody, old boy,” Kan said. “You’re surely not worrying about your girl friend. I mean, a few fatigues are nothing in any one’s life.”
“I’m just a bit tired, that’s all,” I said.
The canteen was already pretty full. We took the only table that was vacant. It was against the wall nearest the kitchen. The heat was almost unbearable. We all ordered steak and onions. Whilst we waited for it we had more beer.
“Well, here’s to our night’s bag, Kan,” said Chetwood, raising his glass to his lips.
“What do you mean—your night’s bag?” demanded Beasley, a youngish lad from the other site.
It started quite good-naturedly. But it soon became heated.
“Well, what fuse were you firing? Fuse twelve? Well, listen, ducky, that ’plane crashed on the edge of the ’drome. It couldn’t have been more than three to four thousand yards away when you opened fire. Fuse twelve would have been well beyond the target.”
“My dear fellow, I saw it burst just by the nose of the ’plane.”
“Well, John had the glasses on it and he says ours burst just outside the wing. And it was the wing thatcrumpled. Anyway, you were a layer, weren’t you? How the hell could you see? I was laying too, and I could see nothing. The flash was absolutely blinding.”
The argument was interminable. It seemed rather pointless. The main thing was that the troop had brought the ’plane down. At last we got our food. I had just started eating when I saw Andrew Mason come in. He stopped in the doorway to look round the room and then made straight for our table. He looked agitated.
“You’re wanted at the office at once, Hanson. Mr. Ogilvie wants to see you.”
He sounded urgent. I found I had my fork suspended half-way to my mouth. I put it down. “Oh, hell!” I said. “What’s he want to see me about?” But I knew already. And I felt like a cub reporter facing his first awkward interview with the editor.
“I don’t know,” said Mason. “But Wing-Commander Winton is with him. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
I got to my feet. “Don’t be a fool—finish your supper first,” said Kan. I hesitated. “I think you’d better come now,” said Mason. “It seemed to be urgent and I’ve already been some time trying to find you.”
“All right,” I said. I put my cap on and followed him out of the canteen. I felt nervous.
I felt a sudden emptiness inside me. “What’s she in trouble over?” I asked.
“She was very secretive about it, my dear.” Again I was aware of that gleam in her eye. I felt uncomfortable. “You’re not by any chance the cause of it, are you? You didn’t seem to waste much time last night.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had a horrid premonition. And because I feared that she might be right, I felt tongue-tied. I was suddenly aware that the whole table was silent, listening to our conversation.
She squeezed my arm in a friendly gesture. “It’s all right. I’ll give her your love.” And she gave me a sugar-sweet smile.
I replied with what I fancy must have been a very sheepish grin and went with the others out of the tent. As we crossed the square to the big block of the Naafi Institute, behind which was the supper canteen, Kan said: “She’s a little bitch, isn’t she?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I was a bit vulnerable,wasn’t I? I’d arranged to meet Marion there at seven and she didn’t turn up.”
He laughed. “She’s still a little bitch. You don’t know Elaine. She can be really sweet, though her ‘my dears’ are a bit reminiscent of the cheap side of Piccadilly. At other times she’s just a cat. Tiny thinks she’s a paragon of all the virtues. He’s very simple. But she’s as promiscuous as it’s possible to be in a camp. She just naturally wants every man she sees.”
I said nothing. What was there to say? I didn’t care a damn about Elaine. What was worrying me was why Marion had got into trouble.
“You’re very moody, old boy,” Kan said. “You’re surely not worrying about your girl friend. I mean, a few fatigues are nothing in any one’s life.”
“I’m just a bit tired, that’s all,” I said.
The canteen was already pretty full. We took the only table that was vacant. It was against the wall nearest the kitchen. The heat was almost unbearable. We all ordered steak and onions. Whilst we waited for it we had more beer.
“Well, here’s to our night’s bag, Kan,” said Chetwood, raising his glass to his lips.
“What do you mean—your night’s bag?” demanded Beasley, a youngish lad from the other site.
It started quite good-naturedly. But it soon became heated.
“Well, what fuse were you firing? Fuse twelve? Well, listen, ducky, that ’plane crashed on the edge of the ’drome. It couldn’t have been more than three to four thousand yards away when you opened fire. Fuse twelve would have been well beyond the target.”
“My dear fellow, I saw it burst just by the nose of the ’plane.”
“Well, John had the glasses on it and he says ours burst just outside the wing. And it was the wing thatcrumpled. Anyway, you were a layer, weren’t you? How the hell could you see? I was laying too, and I could see nothing. The flash was absolutely blinding.”
The argument was interminable. It seemed rather pointless. The main thing was that the troop had brought the ’plane down. At last we got our food. I had just started eating when I saw Andrew Mason come in. He stopped in the doorway to look round the room and then made straight for our table. He looked agitated.
“You’re wanted at the office at once, Hanson. Mr. Ogilvie wants to see you.”
He sounded urgent. I found I had my fork suspended half-way to my mouth. I put it down. “Oh, hell!” I said. “What’s he want to see me about?” But I knew already. And I felt like a cub reporter facing his first awkward interview with the editor.
“I don’t know,” said Mason. “But Wing-Commander Winton is with him. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
I got to my feet. “Don’t be a fool—finish your supper first,” said Kan. I hesitated. “I think you’d better come now,” said Mason. “It seemed to be urgent and I’ve already been some time trying to find you.”
“All right,” I said. I put my cap on and followed him out of the canteen. I felt nervous.
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