‘Excuse me, ladies, but would you care for a dance?’ asked the taller one, and Mary immediately jumped off her stool. Edith took in his friend, a pleasant-enough seeming young man, slightly more bashful but evidently keen to hit the floor. ‘Shall we?’ she said, carefully putting her glass on a small side table.
‘Gosh, you’re a good dancer,’ Mary said after the Canadians had reluctantly retreated in order to catch their breath. ‘I can see you’ve done this before.’ The loud hum of many young people enjoying themselves almost drowned out her voice.
‘I have, though I didn’t come here very often,’ Edith admitted. ‘Tottenham Court Road was too far from where I grew up, and we trained in West London so it was usually the Hammersmith Palais. That’s too far from Dalston though. Anyway, you’re not so bad yourself.’
‘That nice pilot was very sweet and said all the right things, but actually he had two left feet. I had to do all the work while making him think he was leading me.’ Mary sighed. ‘Why is it some grown men can’t count to four? It’s not hard.’
‘I hope he’s better at numbers when he’s navigating,’ Edith giggled, swigging the last of her ginger beer. Then her face fell. ‘Talking of numbers, have you seen the time? We’ve well and truly missed curfew.’
Mary shrugged. ‘We knew we probably would.’
Edith looked guilty. ‘Yes, but Alice will wait up. It’s not fair on her. We’ll have to go. What a shame, here come those pilots again. You explain to them we must be off and I’ll go and queue at the cloakroom.’
Mary nodded reluctantly. ‘All right, although we might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. I don’t want to upset Alice, though. You fetch my cream jacket and I’ll let these nice young men down gently, and won’t tell them it’s because one of them can’t dance for toffee.’
Edith and Mary crept carefully along the back fence of the nurses’ home, having just caught the last bus. The ground behind the home was uneven and tricky to navigate in their dancing shoes, which made Edith want to giggle. She knew that would be a bad idea. It was a warm evening and some of her fellow nurses might have kept their windows open, which would surely mean they would hear every unusual noise.
‘Ouch!’ Mary grabbed on to Edith’s arm as she nearly twisted her ankle. ‘That was lucky, I thought I was a goner then. That will teach me to wear heels. I could take them off but these stones will rip my stockings to bits.’
‘Shh, keep it down,’ Edith hissed. ‘We’re nearly there.’ She felt along the fence, testing each panel by gently pushing it, until she found the spot she was searching for. With a little creak it gave way, exposing a gap just wide enough to squeeze through. Carefully she gathered her skirt and hoiked it up so she wouldn’t rip the seam. ‘Mind that nail, don’t want to damage your lovely silk frock.’ She gave a final wriggle and was through.
Mary struggled to fit through the gap, cursing the curves that had brought her so much admiration during the evening. She finally made it, but there was a splintering noise as the adjacent panel gave way. ‘Now what?’ she asked.
‘Shhh. Not so loud. I left one of the common-room windows open just a little and asked Alice to check nobody had shut it before she went to bed.’ Edith made her way across the back yard and approached the casement. ‘This is it. I hope she didn’t wait up for us.’
Slowly she edged the sash upwards, making sure not to let it squeak in its frame, and then pulled herself up and over the window ledge and into the common room. ‘Here, take my hands, I’ll pull you up,’ she whispered, not knowing how agile Mary was. Excelling on the dance floor didn’t mean she would have the strength to climb in through a window.
Mary gratefully accepted the help and struggled to reach the windowsill, using all her strength to make it over the threshold. ‘Gosh, that was harder than I thought,’ she admitted, sinking down onto the nearest chair in the dark room. The streetlight from the side road illuminated the sofas and the dining tables, all neatly laid and waiting for the following morning’s breakfast.
Slowly it became clear there was a tall figure standing by the entrance to the service room, half hidden by the deep shadow. ‘Alice? Is that you?’ Edith called as loudly as she dared.
The figure came swiftly forwards; the hair was scraped back in a severe bun, not falling in long waves, and too late Edith realised her mistake. ‘Nurse Gillespie, Nurse Perkins,’ snapped Gwen. ‘What is the meaning of this? Not only have you broken the rule of curfew, which is there for a very good reason, namely your own protection, but you are also utterly incompetent. If you intend to go sneaking around at night, you might consider your clothing. That dress and that jacket make you stand out like beacons. Clearly you don’t mind missing your sleep but I do. You will report to me before breakfast in the morning.’ With that she turned briskly and strode out, leaving Edith and Mary with a cold feeling of fear in their stomachs.
‘Was it awful?’ Alice asked in sympathy when Edith finally took her place at the table for breakfast. There was very little left, but Alice had saved some toast for her friend and persuaded Gladys not to put the butter and marmalade away.
Edith’s shoulders slumped in dejection. ‘It wasn’t very nice. She hauled us both over the coals. There wasn’t much we could say as we were caught red-handed.’ She brightened a little. ‘Still, I convinced her that you weren’t part of it. I stupidly said your name when I climbed in and Gwen was sure you were down here somewhere up to no good, but I just said I thought she was you because you’re both tall.’
Alice pulled a face. ‘That’s kind. I did check the window for you, though, so I’m guilty too. Should I tell her – will that make her less cross?’
Edith shook her head vehemently. ‘No. Absolutely not. It won’t achieve anything useful; it’ll just make her mistrust you as much as she does Mary and me, which you don’t deserve seeing as you didn’t go out dancing but stayed in with your book. And anyway …’ She took a big bite out of her toast ‘… you’d only get in the way. Me and Mary have got to clear out the district room, wash the whole place down with Dettol – shelves, cupboards, walls, the lot – and then put it back together again. Two’s plenty for that. Oh, and we’re grounded for a week.’
‘That’s tough luck.’ Alice grimaced, sorry for her friend. ‘But was it worth it? Did you enjoy yourselves?’
Edith gave a cheeky grin. She was rarely depressed for long. ‘It was. You should see the Paramount. It’s packed to the rafters with people who want to dance, including some very friendly Canadians. I didn’t really fancy mine but he was good for a few spins on the dance floor and he bought me a ginger beer. So yes, it was worth it.’
‘You are impossible.’ Part of Alice thought she should disapprove of her friend taking such a risk but the other part knew how much Edith enjoyed a night out.
‘Not at all. It was good clean fun. Maybe you’ll come along next time?’
Alice’s expression closed down. ‘Maybe,’ she said cautiously, in the tone of voice that Edith knew meant ‘no’.
‘Go on, Alice. Say you’ll come,’ begged Edith. ‘It’s a lovely day. You’ll enjoy yourself once you’re there.’
Alice hesitated. It was rare that they both had the afternoon off together, and there was no denying it – the sun was shining, and only a light breeze disturbed the leaves of the trees outside. Edith’s long, dull week of being grounded had at last come to its end, and to give her her due, there had been little in the way of complaining, even if she had reeked of Dettol for days on end. A concert in Victoria Park might take Alice’s mind off all the sombre news she’d been hearing on