Wartime Family Read Online Free PDF Page A

often?’
    A huge grin divided Margot’s peaches-and-cream complexion. ‘Quite a bit, actually.’
    Lizzie nodded at Margot’s wrinkled coverlet. ‘Better smooth your bed before the Welsh dragon sees it.’
    The Welsh dragon had tightly permed hair and protruding teeth. Lizzie couldn’t help getting the impression that the imperfection was exaggerated, especially when Lieutenant Morgan snapped an order. ‘Like they’re going to bite you if you don’t move fast enough,’ she’d said to Margot.
    Everyone stood to attention at the end of their beds, waiting nervously to hear what she had to say. She’d keep them waiting of course, drawing out the agony like the innards of a dead duck.
    She went through the usual spiel, did the customary check of their beds, their lockers and even ran her fingers along the picture rail. Even when she rubbed her thumb and ringer together, Lizzie knew she would feel no dust or grime. Everyone had made sure of that, polishing and dusting until their arms ached.
    ‘Right!’ she said at last.
    The eyes of her charges glittered. Their breathing quickened. Their cheeks turned pink with anticipation.
    The lieutenant’s voice rang like an alarm bell. ‘The notice giving details of your postings has been pinned up on the board. You will file there in an orderly manner.
Orderly
, mark you. You will not run to the notice board. Neither will you shout, scream, laugh or cry when you see where you are to be posted. Now …’
    The Welsh dragon glanced at her wristwatch, scrutinizing the second hand, intent on prolonging the agony. Lizzie held her breath.
    ‘Fall OUT!’
    Stiffly, because they were trying so hard not to rush en masse, the girls filed down the avenue between the beds. Lizzie joined them.
    ‘Randall! Fitzpatrick! Ponsonby-Lyle! Attention!’
    The three did as ordered, snapping to attention, yet each wishing for their feet to be following everyone else.
    Lieutenant Morgan stood before them, her thick legs braced to better support her stocky – tending towards fat – frame.
    As was her nature, she yet again made them wait. Her neat grey eyes surveyed each of them in turn. She heaved her shoulders and took in a deep breath before she spoke.
    ‘Well, ladies. You three have hit the jackpot. Not for you the rigours and responsibilities of keeping a truck or an ambulance on the road. Not for you the wearing of overalls for the riding of motorcycles. You three have been selected as drivers for important personnel. You will become part of the Lavenham pool. Each of you will be allotted to whoever needs you. Sometimes you will be seconded for only a day. Other times for longer. Now, collect your things. No need for travel warrants. A truck will take you to your new home.’ She saluted. ‘Good luck in all you do, ladies.’
    ‘Somebody up there loves us,’ said Margot, raising her eyes to heaven.
    ‘Thank ’im for me,’ said Bessie, whose impatience was obvious. Everything she owned was being pressed into her kitbag in double-quick time.
    Lizzie was excited. ‘I’ve heard you can end up as driver to some really important people. Imagine! One of us might end up driving Winston Churchill around.’
    ‘I don’t care who it is,’ said Bessie, finally drawing her kitbag shut. ‘Driving suits me a lot better than square bashing.’
    Margot was more measured in her packing. Everything about her was methodical and calmly thought out. Even her complexion looked cool and smooth. Her hair was dark brown and permed into thick curls that never looked untidy.
    Lizzie tucked her own tresses back around the length of old stocking she used as a base for the ‘looped bun’ lying at the nape of her neck.
    At least it’s not as unruly as Bessie’s red mop
, she thought to herself. Because she’d been rushing, wisps of redness burst like horsehair stuffing around Bessie’s cap.
    ‘Right. I’m off!’
    Lizzie exchanged a quick smile with Margot before they followed speedily