Wartime Family Read Online Free PDF Page B

expensive perfume. Everything about Margot was expensive. It got her noticed. That was how she knew the secret she was just about to impart.
    ‘This wing commander is Canadian. Not too old either. Fingers crossed, my dear, and he could be Prince Charming.’
    The wing commander’s train was not on time. After waiting outside for over an hour, Lizzie got out of the car to stretch her legs. The sound of tinkling water led her to a small pond just opposite the railway station. The sound was made by a small brook tumbling over upright stones and into the pond. Some thoughtful soul – or perhaps everyone in the village – had provided a wooden bench on the grassy bank. At present it was bathed in some unseasonal sunshine.
    Lizzie looked down at her feet. As usual, thanks to the heavy dumpers the army provided, her feet were killing her. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to sit here a while in the fresh air? She checked the time on the station clock and strained her ears. The train was overdue and the track leading off into the distance was totally deserted. No, it wouldn’t hurt to sit down.
    Sighing with contentment, she sank on to the warm wood, undid her laces and slid her feet out of her shoes.
    The sun was warm – too warm. The grass was cool and tickled her stockinged feet. All the early mornings and last night’s visit to the pub had taken their toll. Her eyes closed and she drifted off.
    Way off in the distance a wooden toy train was chuffing up a cardboard hill, its little whistle tooting just like a real one. Funny, she thought, how dreams can mirror reality, and somehow the two can fuse together as the sleeper begins to wake up …
    The sun had gone in. At least, it seemed that way. A shadow had definitely fallen over her.
    Drat! She’d fallen asleep. The train! The wing commander! He was looking down at her, his eyes veiled as he scrutinized her feet.
    ‘I’m sorry …’ she began, all of a fluster. Suddenly she remembered to salute. Couldn’t she be put on a charge if she didn’t? she wondered absently. She shot up, saluted – and hit her toe on a stone.
    ‘Ouch! Sir,’ she said, wobbling slightly as she fought to carry out the formality while standing on one leg.
    His expression remained implacable. No hint of a smile or any sign of amusement in his eyes. His voice was as emotionless as his eyes. ‘Put your shoes on and tidy yourself up. I’ll wait in the car.’
    Red faced she slid her aching feet back into their torture chambers, tidied her hair and straightened her tie and jacket. She noticed grass stains around her ankles, but there was nothing she could do about them now. Appropriate apologies ran through her mind. She opened her mouth to utter them the moment she got back to the car.
    ‘I’m sorry—’ she began.
    ‘Never mind that,’ he snapped, turning round to face her. ‘Drive me to where I have to go.’
    ‘Ainsley Hall?’
    ‘Whatever.’ He turned his face away to look out of the window.
    Lizzie melted into her seat behind the steering wheel, her face red and her embarrassment total.
    On the way to Ainsley Hall, the sun went in and the rain started. It pattered on the windscreen, pooled in ditches at the side of the road and leaked from thatched eaves.
    She glanced in the rear-view mirror. Silent and still, her passenger gazed relentlessly out of the window. He’d said nothing to her and so far she’d said nothing to him. Would he report her for being improperly dressed? She bit her lip. It had been her plan to join up and see a bit of life, have a little adventure. And she’d been quite prepared to serve for the duration, but if he reported her …
    What would be so wrong if I attempted to break the ice?
she thought to herself.
Here goes!
    ‘Well. This is England. Raining again.’
    She saw his head jerk round to face her. His expression was unchanged. His eyes were steely blue and his face was … She almost held her breath. He was handsome. No doubt about it.
    She decided to try