Then it was back to her typewriter, the rest of the afternoon feeling as long as a week.
Directly after tea, Nell asked that she might be excused, and ran up to pack a small suitcase, her mother calling after her, ‘I’ve laid out clean underwear for you!’
Shouting merry thanks, Nell reached behind a row of books to retrieve the carefully folded package she had recently hidden there. Not daring to unwrap the silken nightdress, which had left her virtually penniless until next pay day, she slipped it directly into the case alongside her old one – better take that or Mother might be suspicious. Straight on top went a layer of suitable clothing and a bathing costume. Hidden though it might be, the nightdress provoked a momentary quiver. She was sexually ignorant in regard to the mechanics, though not so totally naive that she did not know the gamble she was taking. A man and a woman in the same bed …
But then her parents slept in the same bed, and they had no children – and at this moment Nell could not have cared less, for who knew how long they would all have to live? The excitement and urgency of being with Billy overruling any risk, she snapped the case shut, then it was back down the stairs.
‘Let us look at you!’
Hurrying through the hall to the sitting room, a suitcase in one hand, her gas mask container slung over her shoulder, Nell answered her parents’ demand, reduced to a schoolgirl again as she posed for their inspection.
Father had spread before him on a maroon chenille tablecloth the small arsenal he had accumulated. Some of it was from his exploits as an officer in the Great War, such as the Webley service revolver, the lethal-looking bayonet, and the Luger automatic pistol taken from a dead German. Other weapons were home-made – a brass knuckle duster and a garrotte. To Nell he didn’t appear to be doing anything specific with them, but he just liked to exhibit them from time to time, as if to reassure his family that he would be ready to protect them if the Germans did land. But his attention was now for his daughter. ‘That’s more like the girl I know!’ announced the grey face, with a pleased smile for her lack of make-up. Then he dipped into his pocket and pulled out half a crown. ‘Here you are, my little chickadee, treat yourself.’
Nell reached out and thanked him with a warm smile.
‘Better take a mackintosh in case it rains,’ warned her mother, rising to go and fetch this, whilst Nell exchanged an amused but frustrated glance with her father.
‘Let her do it if it keeps her happy,’ Wilfred advised her, as his wife folded the mackintosh over the crook of Nell’s arm.
‘Now, have you got everything – identity card?’
‘Yes, Mother!’
‘Let me check your case.’
‘There’s no time!’ Nell dashed for the door. ‘I’ve a bus to catch.’ For once, she thanked providence for the rationing of petrol. There was no danger of Father offering to chauffeur her into town: he was saving all his coupons towards a decent family outing.
Her parents came to see her off, their exit disturbing a sparrow that was enjoying a dust bath amongst the geraniums, and drawing a tut from Wilfred over the desecration of his prized garden.
‘Now, don’t do anything to show us up,’ warned her mother. ‘And if you hear the sirens go straight to a shelter!’
‘I won’t – I mean, I will!’ Nell called gaily over her shoulder, and hurried away up the avenue.
Not until out from under father’s eye did she take a little cardboard pot of rouge from her gas mask container and smear some on her lips, checking her appearance in her compact mirror, before catching her bus, nerves gurgling in her craw all the way into town.
And there was Billy! As handsome as a film star, waiting for her at the prearranged spot. Waving frantically to him through the window, she jumped off the bus almost before it stopped, and rushed to meet him as he too accelerated forth. Thrilled by what lay ahead, they exchanged a quick bright-eyed kiss, then spurted to catch their connection to Scarborough, which was about to depart further along the kerb.
Once in their seats, holding hands and grinning like Cheshire cats, they spoke little to each other as the bus chugged jerkily on its way out of the city, for besides them being so keyed up, there were too many passengers who might overhear intimacies.
However, as the bus paused to give way to a tank, Nell did reveal her successful appointment. ‘Guess who’s to be a nurse?’
‘Oh, when?’
‘Monday week!’
‘Good for you!’ He gave her a commending pat on the hand, before appearing to have second thoughts. ‘’Ere, you won’t be dealing with wounded soldiers, will you?’
‘Why, would you be jealous?’ teased Nell.
‘I flipping-well would, if you’ll be running your hands over their bits and pieces!’
She tittered at his rudeness, then moved up close to appease him. ‘Well, you’ve no need to be. I’m led to understand that we’ll only be used for evacuating civilians from London to somewhere safe up north.’ Then she donned an optimistic smile. ‘Maybe we’ll be able to meet down there! You could take me to Bermondsey.’ This was where he hailed from. ‘I’m dying to see it.’
Billy had mixed feelings about this. ‘Much as I’d love to see you any time, I’d prefer it to be well clear of London. The way things are heading, it’s only a matter of time before they hit us.’
‘Hmm, well, I don’t relish being bombed either, but I hope I get to do something crucial, that’s the whole point of becoming a nurse.’ It was Billy who, in part, had inspired her decision. To be so young and yet so totally embroiled in the defence of one’s country, he had put her to shame. ‘Anyway, let’s not talk about the war. Let’s concentrate on enjoying ourselves.’
‘Oh, I intend to.’ Billy gave her his dirty grin as the bus started to move again, then added hastily, ‘Speaking about that, you’d better put this on.’ After a peripheral glance, and with a definite lack of ceremony, he withdrew a small box from his pocket and slipped it to her.
Taking his lead, Nell lifted the lid of the box in surreptitious manner, and though she would have preferred to exclaim and openly admire its contents, she was to sneak the ring quickly onto her finger and whisper only, ‘It’s lovely!’ before tucking the tiny container out of sight.
But as much as she tried not to draw attention to it, the tips of her thumb and finger itched to examine the golden circle that adorned her wedding finger – not a fake one from Woolworths, as one might expect for an illicit weekend, but a genuine wedding ring – for which she beamed thanks to her lover.
‘Only nine carats, I’m afraid.’ Bill looked self-effacing, the restrictions of war and not parsimony having barred him from acquiring a twenty-three carat one, as he was quick to explain. ‘But I’ll be buying you a proper one when it’s all over.’
‘No you won’t,’ came her murmured instruction. ‘I’ll be keeping this one forever.’
Then, sharing a loving smile and a squeeze of each other’s hand, they tore their eyes away, and for the rest of the journey were to watch the countryside whiz by, and to mull over tantalising thoughts about the coming night.
With the room in total blackout, and her senses all to pot, there was no way of telling when night became day. Nell gasped as, with the aid of a lamp and snatching a look over Billy’s naked shoulder, she consulted his watch on the bedside table. ‘You do realise it’s almost nine o’clock?’ Nine o’clock in the morning that was.
Her