the town she had to bump into it was the person who already thought of her as a silly young girl, and the fact that he was a dashing RAF pilot made it even worse. Her one aim now was to put as much distance between them as humanly possible. ‘Got to go, sorry.’
‘Stop apologising. Anyway, you’ll never find any form of transport on a day like this, but I might be able to help.’
‘You can?’
‘I have a pal who owns a removal firm. If we’re lucky he might have a van in the garage. We can but ask.’
‘Thanks, but you needn’t put yourself out for me.’
‘I’m not. This is for the war effort. We’ve all got to do our bit, even collecting shoes for women who have enough pairs in their wardrobe to last a lifetime. Follow me, Miranda.’ He strode off along the street clutching the shoe boxes in his arms. ‘Hurry up,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I’ve only got a twenty-four-hour pass, and so far today I’ve done nothing but run errands for my mother. Anyway, we’d better get there before they close or your grandmother’s guests will have to walk to Highcliffe.’
Miranda hurried after him, but she could not help wondering if she was doing the right thing. Granny’s reaction at the mention of Raif’s name and her overt disapproval of someone she professed not to know was quite baffling. She realised with a start that she had almost lost sight of him in the crowd, and she had to run to catch up. Perhaps if her grandmother were to meet Raif she might change her mind, as it was his family she seemed to dislike and not him personally. Anyway, he seemed determined to help and she had the feeling that once he had made up his mind to something it would be very hard to persuade him otherwise.
She followed him to the inner harbour where he had parked his car. He tossed the shoe boxes into the boot, locked it and strode off without waiting to check that she was following. In fact her patience was being stretched to the limit and she was rapidly growing resentful of his cavalier treatment. She was planning to tell him so if she ever caught up with him, but then he stopped suddenly and ushered her into a yard filled with commercial vans. ‘Wait here.’ He went to the office and disappeared inside, emerging moments later and brandishing a set of keys. ‘The only vehicle free is an open truck, but it’s better than nothing.’ He crossed the yard to where an ageing and slightly dilapidated lorry was parked, and opened the cab door. ‘Hop in. You can ride shotgun.’
She eyed the truck doubtfully, wondering whether it would be suitable, but as there did not seem to be any alterative she walked across the yard with as much dignity as she could muster and climbed into the passenger seat. ‘This is very good of you, Flight Lieutenant Carstairs.’
He gave her a quizzical look as he leapt into the driver’s seat. ‘That’s very formal, Miss Beddoes. How did you know my rank?’
‘You introduced yourself to us this morning, and I know what two stripes on your cuff means. I’m not a child, Lieutenant.’
He was suddenly serious. ‘I can see that, Miranda. You’re a very enterprising young lady.’
‘Now you’re being patronising. Have you got any sisters?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have a younger sister.’
‘Really? What’s her name?’
‘Isabel, but we always call her Izzie.’ He started the engine. ‘And before you ask, she’s nineteen, several years my junior.’
‘I’m not that nosey, Flight Lieutenant.’
He checked the rear view mirror and began to reverse out into the street. ‘Where do we pick up our passengers?’
There was no mockery in his smile and in spite of everything she felt herself warming to him for the second time that day. She relaxed into the worn leather seat. ‘Alexandra Gardens. I left them standing on the pavement with their babies and toddlers. Tommy Toop and Rita went off to see if they could get help too.’
‘Let’s go then. Operation Nippers
‘Stop apologising. Anyway, you’ll never find any form of transport on a day like this, but I might be able to help.’
‘You can?’
‘I have a pal who owns a removal firm. If we’re lucky he might have a van in the garage. We can but ask.’
‘Thanks, but you needn’t put yourself out for me.’
‘I’m not. This is for the war effort. We’ve all got to do our bit, even collecting shoes for women who have enough pairs in their wardrobe to last a lifetime. Follow me, Miranda.’ He strode off along the street clutching the shoe boxes in his arms. ‘Hurry up,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I’ve only got a twenty-four-hour pass, and so far today I’ve done nothing but run errands for my mother. Anyway, we’d better get there before they close or your grandmother’s guests will have to walk to Highcliffe.’
Miranda hurried after him, but she could not help wondering if she was doing the right thing. Granny’s reaction at the mention of Raif’s name and her overt disapproval of someone she professed not to know was quite baffling. She realised with a start that she had almost lost sight of him in the crowd, and she had to run to catch up. Perhaps if her grandmother were to meet Raif she might change her mind, as it was his family she seemed to dislike and not him personally. Anyway, he seemed determined to help and she had the feeling that once he had made up his mind to something it would be very hard to persuade him otherwise.
She followed him to the inner harbour where he had parked his car. He tossed the shoe boxes into the boot, locked it and strode off without waiting to check that she was following. In fact her patience was being stretched to the limit and she was rapidly growing resentful of his cavalier treatment. She was planning to tell him so if she ever caught up with him, but then he stopped suddenly and ushered her into a yard filled with commercial vans. ‘Wait here.’ He went to the office and disappeared inside, emerging moments later and brandishing a set of keys. ‘The only vehicle free is an open truck, but it’s better than nothing.’ He crossed the yard to where an ageing and slightly dilapidated lorry was parked, and opened the cab door. ‘Hop in. You can ride shotgun.’
She eyed the truck doubtfully, wondering whether it would be suitable, but as there did not seem to be any alterative she walked across the yard with as much dignity as she could muster and climbed into the passenger seat. ‘This is very good of you, Flight Lieutenant Carstairs.’
He gave her a quizzical look as he leapt into the driver’s seat. ‘That’s very formal, Miss Beddoes. How did you know my rank?’
‘You introduced yourself to us this morning, and I know what two stripes on your cuff means. I’m not a child, Lieutenant.’
He was suddenly serious. ‘I can see that, Miranda. You’re a very enterprising young lady.’
‘Now you’re being patronising. Have you got any sisters?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have a younger sister.’
‘Really? What’s her name?’
‘Isabel, but we always call her Izzie.’ He started the engine. ‘And before you ask, she’s nineteen, several years my junior.’
‘I’m not that nosey, Flight Lieutenant.’
He checked the rear view mirror and began to reverse out into the street. ‘Where do we pick up our passengers?’
There was no mockery in his smile and in spite of everything she felt herself warming to him for the second time that day. She relaxed into the worn leather seat. ‘Alexandra Gardens. I left them standing on the pavement with their babies and toddlers. Tommy Toop and Rita went off to see if they could get help too.’
‘Let’s go then. Operation Nippers
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