in love with his wife.’
‘Good for him.’
‘You think so? She ditched him a year ago. Plenty of gals have made eyes at him, without a dicky bird of interest for their pains.’ Sally took a pensive drag at her cigarette.
Behind her, through the window, Andrea heard the sound of an engine starting up. She turned, and, lifting the edge of the blackout, saw Mike Harrington, with Tony crouched behind, speeding away on a motorbike. So that was why Harrington’s hair had been windswept and his hands so cold. She was aware of Sally standing right beside her, also watching, but with a glumness and anxiety that astonished her. Could James be second best to one of these men? Having seen Sally look at her airman so dotingly, Andrea could not believe this.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘I was thinking of James, and what he’ll be doing later tonight.’
‘Tell me,’ murmured Andrea.
‘U-boats surface after dark to charge their batteries , so James and his mates go up with searchlights and bombard them with R/Ps, whatever they are.’ Andrea felt dumb not to have realised till now that Sally’s brashness was a defence against anxiety.
‘What will Mike and Tony be doing tonight?’ she asked, trying to sound casual.
‘Nothing dangerous. Searching foreign looking trawlers in case they’re carrying spies. That sort of thing.’ Sally took Andrea’s arm and said firmly, ‘Come on, let’s play billiards and forget the lousy war.’
Andrea disengaged herself. ‘They are in coastal forces, aren’t they?’
‘Of course they are, lucky devils.’
Walking to the billiard table, Andrea saw Elspeth emerging from a room marked ‘Private’. She had been crying. Could Elspeth have thought that Tony had spent too much time talking to her, wondered Andrea. But when she mentioned this possibility to Sally, she shook her head dismissively.
After being told the rules of billiards, Andrea remarked, tongue in cheek, that all her previous knowledge of the game had been gleaned from a few remarks in The Cherry Orchard. From this it had soon emerged that she was a teacher of literature. ‘And piano, too,’ she admitted.
‘Well, I’ll be jiggered,’ muttered Sally, ‘I’d never have guessed you were a schoolmistress.’
Since Sally had plainly thought her a kindred spirit before knowing what she did for a living, Andrea wondered whether this revelation would change everything. She guessed it wouldn’t. But after a very onesided game of billiards, Sally suggested leaving.
During the journey home, Sally seemed depressed. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you,’ she muttered, accelerating out of the drive.
‘Because I’m a schoolmistress?’
‘You probably think I’m a slut.’
‘Of course I don’t.’
‘Most people do who know about James. The Cornish are low church moralists. Even the local pillars are hypocrites.’
‘The war must have opened their eyes.’
‘If it has, most don’t let on. You’d be amazed how often I’m told that Ferndene’s a sink of iniquity. There’s a creepy mural in the church, called “Souls in Purgatory”. I know for a fact that the vicar’s bitchy wife thinks I should be roasting there.’ She laughed mirthlessly as they sped along between black hedgerows, guided by the pencil thin beams of her masked headlamps. ‘I’ll tell you what is sinful: being forced to go on living with a man you’re sick of.’ The wind poured through the open windows making Sally’s hair fly. ‘Jesus, was I glad when the war came along, with loads of new excuses for getting out of the house: Red Cross, evacuees, entertaining pilots. Blimey, they were sad when they arrived. Most had lost friends, and were scared stupid on their own account. So I cheered them up with the odd peck on the cheek.’ She changed gear for a corner. ‘Some wanted more than that, so I thought what the hell. They might be dead tomorrow. And that was incredibly arousing: the thought that every fuck might be the
‘Good for him.’
‘You think so? She ditched him a year ago. Plenty of gals have made eyes at him, without a dicky bird of interest for their pains.’ Sally took a pensive drag at her cigarette.
Behind her, through the window, Andrea heard the sound of an engine starting up. She turned, and, lifting the edge of the blackout, saw Mike Harrington, with Tony crouched behind, speeding away on a motorbike. So that was why Harrington’s hair had been windswept and his hands so cold. She was aware of Sally standing right beside her, also watching, but with a glumness and anxiety that astonished her. Could James be second best to one of these men? Having seen Sally look at her airman so dotingly, Andrea could not believe this.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘I was thinking of James, and what he’ll be doing later tonight.’
‘Tell me,’ murmured Andrea.
‘U-boats surface after dark to charge their batteries , so James and his mates go up with searchlights and bombard them with R/Ps, whatever they are.’ Andrea felt dumb not to have realised till now that Sally’s brashness was a defence against anxiety.
‘What will Mike and Tony be doing tonight?’ she asked, trying to sound casual.
‘Nothing dangerous. Searching foreign looking trawlers in case they’re carrying spies. That sort of thing.’ Sally took Andrea’s arm and said firmly, ‘Come on, let’s play billiards and forget the lousy war.’
Andrea disengaged herself. ‘They are in coastal forces, aren’t they?’
‘Of course they are, lucky devils.’
Walking to the billiard table, Andrea saw Elspeth emerging from a room marked ‘Private’. She had been crying. Could Elspeth have thought that Tony had spent too much time talking to her, wondered Andrea. But when she mentioned this possibility to Sally, she shook her head dismissively.
After being told the rules of billiards, Andrea remarked, tongue in cheek, that all her previous knowledge of the game had been gleaned from a few remarks in The Cherry Orchard. From this it had soon emerged that she was a teacher of literature. ‘And piano, too,’ she admitted.
‘Well, I’ll be jiggered,’ muttered Sally, ‘I’d never have guessed you were a schoolmistress.’
Since Sally had plainly thought her a kindred spirit before knowing what she did for a living, Andrea wondered whether this revelation would change everything. She guessed it wouldn’t. But after a very onesided game of billiards, Sally suggested leaving.
During the journey home, Sally seemed depressed. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you,’ she muttered, accelerating out of the drive.
‘Because I’m a schoolmistress?’
‘You probably think I’m a slut.’
‘Of course I don’t.’
‘Most people do who know about James. The Cornish are low church moralists. Even the local pillars are hypocrites.’
‘The war must have opened their eyes.’
‘If it has, most don’t let on. You’d be amazed how often I’m told that Ferndene’s a sink of iniquity. There’s a creepy mural in the church, called “Souls in Purgatory”. I know for a fact that the vicar’s bitchy wife thinks I should be roasting there.’ She laughed mirthlessly as they sped along between black hedgerows, guided by the pencil thin beams of her masked headlamps. ‘I’ll tell you what is sinful: being forced to go on living with a man you’re sick of.’ The wind poured through the open windows making Sally’s hair fly. ‘Jesus, was I glad when the war came along, with loads of new excuses for getting out of the house: Red Cross, evacuees, entertaining pilots. Blimey, they were sad when they arrived. Most had lost friends, and were scared stupid on their own account. So I cheered them up with the odd peck on the cheek.’ She changed gear for a corner. ‘Some wanted more than that, so I thought what the hell. They might be dead tomorrow. And that was incredibly arousing: the thought that every fuck might be the
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