‘Did you go to both bookshops?’ Iris asked, when they’d settled in the still warm seats.
‘No, only Brown’s. He was very helpful so he must be the nice one.’
Iris smiled. ‘I’m glad you got on well with him.’
‘He found me exactly what I wanted. Maybe because I bought a book it cheered him up … even though a customer knocked him down from one-and-six to a shilling – on my behalf.’
‘Oh? Who was that then?’ Iris gazed at her, curiosity sparking in her sapphire-blue eyes.
‘Just some man.’ Blast. She hadn’t wanted to mention Murray Andrews.
Iris immediately pounced. ‘What man? Another old boy?’
‘No. He was an officer – a pilot at that RAF station you mentioned.’ June hesitated. Might as well give the full account now. ‘Actually, I first saw him on the Liverpool train. He offered to help with my case but I wouldn’t let him.’
‘Gosh, it doesn’t take you long to get yourself a boyfriend.’ Iris laughed.
‘Don’t be daft. I doubt very much I’ll ever see him again. Anyway, he was nothing special.’
‘Then why have you gone pink?’
June put her hand to her cheek. ‘Because it’s so hot in here. I’m going to take my coat off.’ She was relieved to see a waitress hurrying over.
‘Tea for two, please, and two scones and jam,’ Iris said. She leaned across the table and gazed at June, her eyes full of mischief. ‘Don’t think you can change the subject. I want to hear all about your pilot. Every detail.’
‘He’s not my pilot and there’s nothing to tell,’ June said, annoyed with herself for starting all this. ‘He was after a map but Mr Brown told him in no uncertain terms there was a war on and a map could end up in the wrong hands. So of course I couldn’t tell him I was also after a map.’
Iris chuckled. ‘Well, you’re bound to bump into him again at one of the dances. Maybe he has a nice friend.’ She patted June’s arm. ‘It’ll be fun going with you. Sometimes a couple of the maids come and we catch a bus together but they giggle over nothing and have no conversation except boys and moaning about Cook. Course, they’re still wet behind the ears.’
The waitress set a tray of tea and the scones on the table.
‘No butter.’ Iris wrinkled her nose at the margarine. ‘But at least we’ve got a teaspoon of jam.’
June was relieved the conversation had taken a turn away from Murray Andrews. Iris chattered on about her family, then said, ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’
It was the question June was dreading.
She swallowed. ‘I had two sisters, but one – Clara – died when she was only eight.’
Iris covered June’s hand with her own. ‘I’m so sorry, Junie. That’s awful. How long ago?’
‘More than five years but it still seems like yesterday. That’s why I’m here – to help children who need me.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘Mum died two years after Clara’s accident, when I was sixteen. She was broken-hearted and became … ill.’
‘Oh, poor you. And your father?’
‘I … he …’
‘Don’t tell me if it’s painful.’ Iris looked over at the wall clock opposite and shot to her feet. ‘C’mon, kid, we’ve got to get back. Harold won’t be able to take us home as he’s got to take the car in for repair. But we can get the bus if we hurry.’
‘This is my treat.’ June got out her purse and left the coins on the table. She dipped in again and drew out a thruppenny bit, hoping it was enough for a tip, and buttoned her coat. She picked up her bag and the shoebox with her old shoes and hurried after Iris.
An hour later they were back at the home. Just as Iris put her hand out to pull the bell cord the heavy oak door swung wide. Matron stood there, her face red and perspiring, eyes wide as though she were about to burst.
‘Have you heard the news?’ Matron threw her hands in the air.
June and Iris glanced at each other, puzzled
‘No, we’ve been—’ Iris began.
‘The Japs have bombed one of the American naval bases in Hawaii!’ Matron’s voice rose a decibel. ‘That means the Americans will be over here in droves, you’ll see! With all their money and fancy goods.’ She gave a contemptuous twist of her lip and shook her head with such force her cap hung at a precarious angle.
Iris shouted in delight. ‘But that’s wonderful news, Matron. They’ll be here to help us win the war – and not before time.’ She grabbed hold of June, who was trying to take it all in. ‘Isn’t it exciting, Junie?’ Iris whirled her so hard June’s head swam. ‘Junie, say something.’
‘I bet Mr Churchill’s relieved,’ June gasped, laughing as she nearly lost her balance when Iris suddenly let her go. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Matron’s grimace before she disappeared inside. June suddenly thought of all the boys and men and women who had already died. How many more would have to die before the world came to its senses? But at least it looked as though Mr Churchill would finally have help.
‘He’ll be dancing for joy like us,’ Iris said, this time pulling June into another spin. ‘The Yanks are coming – they’re really coming,’ she sang out. ‘Oh, thank God! We’re going to win this bloody war, you’ll see. This time next year it’ll all be over.’
Even the welcome news about the Japs invading Pearl Harbor wasn’t enough to stop Murray Andrews thinking about the girl in the bookshop. Fair enough, she was pretty, but he’d known loads of pretty girls. So what was so special about June Lavender? Was it her quiet determined manner? Or the hint of mischief behind those grassy-green eyes? Was it because she shared a love of books? Was it simply because she hadn’t shown the slightest interest in him when she’d tried to get past him in the corridor of the train? Her polite but firm reply when he’d offered to pay for her book? He was so used to women being impressed with his being a fighter pilot that it was odd not having to fend off yet another pretty girl.
He grinned. If he wasn’t careful he’d get the reputation of being a cocky sod. And that was best left to the likes of the handsome, full-of-himself Yank, Captain Charles (‘Call me Chas’) Lockstone, who’d breezed in six weeks ago along with a handful of other American volunteer pilots by going over the border and joining the Royal Canadian Air Force. It was inevitable that today’s news would bring the Yanks into the war and a lot more of them would soon be over here. No question we need them, Murray thought, lighting a cigarette, even though he couldn’t work up a lot of enthusiasm. He’d heard too many stories about them – many of them not very favourable – to look forward to their arrival. But Churchill would be ecstatic as he’d tried so hard and for so long to convince Roosevelt to enter fully into the war, so surely now the tide would turn in the Allies’ favour.
Murray tried to concentrate on his newspaper but it was impossible. Everything was bound to change now.
The news about the Americans coming into the war was the only topic in the dining room at dinnertime. Even Matron couldn’t stop the children cheering and shouting ‘hurray’ when they heard the grown-ups talking and laughing that Jerry wouldn’t