Carrie stared with dismay at the truck, then silently enlisting the help of any guardian angel that might be hovering, shoved in the starting handle and swung it hard.
She heard a grunt and a groan and a cough. Oh, my goodness, she had started it! First try! She grinned at the corporal, who grinned back.
‘Not bad, Tiptree. It’s the way you hold your mouth as does it. So on your way, then. Let’s see what you’re made of.’
Carrie engaged first gear, inching out of the coach house. And please, she wouldn’t run into one of the gateposts? Not on her first day?
She drove carefully. To her left was the estate office, ahead the cookhouse. Now it was a downhill run as far as Southgate Lodge. She touched the brake with her foot and thanked the angel fervently for a truck that did indeed seem up to scratch.
Evie and Nan were dressed in overalls, cleaning windows outside the billet. Carrie stopped, and jumped down.
‘Goodness!’ Evie put down her pad of scrunched-up newspaper and made for the gate. ‘Where on earth are you going in that!’ She was trying, Carrie knew, not to laugh.
‘It’s a right old rattletrap!’ Nan joined them.
‘It’s old I’ll grant you, but there’s a pussy cat under that bonnet,’ Carrie defended, ‘and the gears are like silk. As a matter of fact, I might be driving you all to and from shifts in it – when things are up and running, that is.’
‘Then that might well be tomorrow. The GPO bods will be finished by afternoon, and all the shift workers are to give the place a good cleaning. We’re in the estate office, did you know?’
‘I guessed as much. Saw the green vans outside. I’m next door, in the stable yard with Corporal Finnigan and a mechanic called Norman. So see you! I’ll go as far as Priest’s Lodge, then I’ll have to be back for tea at ten. Looks like I’m in charge, in that department!’ she laughed. ‘Bye…’
‘Y’know, she’s such a pretty girl,’ Evie sighed. ‘Pity she doesn’t smile more often.’
‘Pity she doesn’t wear her engagement ring,’ Nan said darkly.
‘Mm.’ Evie thought it a pity, too, but had the good sense not to say so.
Carrie drove past the little church and the end of the wood, her hands relaxed on the wheel, feeling not a little pleased that 462523 Tiptree C was doing what she had joined the Auxiliary Territorial Service to do. She was a driver, at last. And for a bonus, Heronflete Priory – Draft HP4 – was as different as could be from the hectic regime she had experienced in barracks, and at the training camp in Wiltshire. Now, life seemed almost calm again. And all things considered, with a little give and take, of course, she might just get to enjoy Army life. One day.
‘I want this place fully operational by Wednesday,’ said Sergeant James. ‘Also, the powers-that-be have indicated that that is the way they would like it, too.’ She inclined her head in the direction of the trees that screened Heronflete.
‘So they’re alive in there? There really is -’ ‘Quiet! It is not for me to hazard an opinion. Sufficient to say that cars have been seen heading in the direction of the big house, so I think we can take it that They have arrived and will expect us to deal efficiently and discreetly with whatever we have been sent here to do! Now, girls, does Wednesday’s date have any significance?’ ‘Er – September 3?’ Evie supplied.
‘Good! I’m glad one of you is on the ball. Wednesday, will also be the first day of the third year of hostilities. And tomorrow, A-shift will be here and ready for duty at O600 hours and you, Tiptree, will deliver them promptly. You will also be responsible for ferrying the girls at Priest’s, who will be working the opposite shifts.’
‘Yes, sergeant.’ Carrie had already made a mental note to set the alarm for five-twenty which would give her time enough, surely, to dress, collect the truck from the stable yard, then pick up the shift.
She hoped she would get it right; hoped the alarm clock worked; hoped the truck started first time. Mind, it shouldn’t be too bad. September mornings were still light, though what would happen in winter, when blackout began in late afternoon and lasted until at least eight the following morning, she chose not to dwell upon too much.
‘I will pin up the duty rosters; one in each billet and one here in the signals office, so no one will have any excuse for lateness. And that especially means you, Tiptree.’
‘Yes, sergeant,’ Carrie whispered, automatically.
‘Right, then. Fifteen minutes for a cookhouse break, then I want you back here for ten-thirty and we’ll make a start getting the clobber unloaded and stacked away here! OK, girls!’
‘Y’know, it’s a funny going-on,’ Evie said when they sat with mugs of saccharin-sweet tea in front of them – ‘the two-shift system, I mean. I’ve always worked night shift, as well. I believe men will do the nights for the time being. Maybe they aren’t expecting much overnight traffic’
‘Well, we’ll soon know what’s going on. There’ll be teleprinter messages, I mean, and you’ll be able to have the odd listen-in, Evie.’ Nan blew on her tea.
‘I’ll be doing no such thing, Nan Morrissey. I could lose my stripe for listening-in!’
Could lose it, she amended silently, if she were caught listening-in!
‘When I arrived here, I wondered what on earth I was going to do,’ Carrie smiled, ‘but I’m going to be kept pretty busy. I’ll have to collect the late shift, then take the earlies back to billets. And Corporal Finnigan expects me to learn engine maintenance, too. Mind, there’ll always be Norman to fall back on. He seems very affable, now he’s had his toothache seen to. But shift-working is a seven-day job, and my last run will be at ten at night. I’m not going to get any time off at all.’
‘Of course you will,’ Evie laughed. ‘If men are going to do night-shifts, then maybe your corporal will arrange something for you. It was him collected us from Lincoln, remember. Or maybe the mechanic will do some of the late runs.
‘Of course, when we are working from two till ten it means that every other night we won’t be able to go anywhere. It could play havoc with your love life, if you think about it. Not that I mind, of course, though Bob doesn’t expect me to live like a nun. I’ll be going dancing, though I won’t be up for dates.’
Her wedding ring would see to that. If asked, she held up her left hand and smiled and said, ‘Sorry.’ The decent ones accepted it, and it was tough luck on those who thought a young married woman in uniform was fair game.
‘I suppose there’ll be dances round about.’ Carrie loved to dance, though Jeffrey wasn’t too keen. ‘One of the girls at Priest’s told me there’s a village not far away. Within walking distance, she heard. Perhaps there’ll be a pub we can go to – just for the odd drink and a change of scene, I mean.’
‘Suppose we’ll give it a try,’ Evie was fondling her ring again. ‘But had you thought that we’ll be on duty from two in the afternoon until ten at night, then next day we’ll be on earlies – six till two in the afternoon.’
‘A bit much, if you ask me,’ Nan grumbled.
‘You still haven’t got the point. We do a late, followed by an early, then we’re off duty till two o’clock the following afternoon. Virtually twenty-four hours off. We could go much further afield than the local pub. There’ll be dances and flicks in Lincoln and if Sergeant James allows us sleeping-out passes, we could get a bed at the Y W and make a real night out of it.’
‘What,’ Nan wanted to know, ‘is the Y W?’
‘You’ve heard of the YMCA, surely? Well, the YWCA is the female equivalent. If you can manage to bag a bed there, it’s a