His mention of dancing made her look nervously across the room in case the belligerent airman was somewhere about. It was hard to tell one from the other as they were all dressed identically. There must have been about thirty villagers scattered amongst the crowded floor – but most of them were women. The young men had already been conscripted or volunteered, unless they were working on one of the local farms.

  ‘I know the name of the bastard who upset you. He’s a troublemaker – one of the mechanics with a massive chip on his shoulder. Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him tomorrow. He’s a member of the Communist Party…’

  ‘Well, good for him. Better than a member of the fascists. Let’s not talk about him. I can just about manage a waltz – if you don’t mind having your toes trodden on, would you care to dance with me?’

  Sarah wasn’t sure if she was pleased that Angus had stepped in or cross that he felt she needed to be protected by him. After all, she hardly knew him, did she?

  6

  Angus didn’t need asking twice. He’d much rather dance with Sarah than with someone he didn’t know. ‘Why don’t you stand on my toes and let me carry you around?’

  ‘I’m no lightweight, even if it was a sensible suggestion you wouldn’t be able to move with me standing on you like that.’

  ‘Let’s give it a go. You can always get off if it doesn’t work. After a few turns around the floor I expect you’ll have got the hang of it anyway.’

  They both knew the idea was ridiculous but as soon as they were safely in the throng on the dance floor she carefully stepped onto his shoes. What neither of them had considered was that this meant she was now far closer to him than she would have been otherwise.

  He didn’t give her the chance to change her mind but held her close with one arm and gripped her other hand in his. Every inch of her was pressed against him and the softness of her breasts was having a disastrous effect. He moved a few yards and pretended to stumble.

  ‘This won’t work. Let’s do it the conventional way.’

  She was the correct distance so fast he had a nasty suspicion she’d been aware of his arousal. She wasn’t perhaps as naïve as he’d thought.

  It didn’t really matter if she didn’t know the steps, as it was impossible to dance properly with so many couples milling about. After a few minutes, he stopped moving and drew her a little closer but not close enough to cause the same reaction.

  ‘Do you want to continue or shall we make a dash for the bar and refill our glasses?’

  ‘To tell you the truth, I’m not enjoying this at all. I really don’t like being in a crush and although I hate to say so, a lot of the people – including some of your airmen – would have done well to have taken a bath before they came out tonight.’

  He shouldered his way to the edge of the floor and then keeping her hand in his led her into the comparative peace of the bar. ‘I doubt that many here have access to a bathroom as you do.’

  She was unbothered by his gentle reprimand. ‘Everyone has access to soap and water.’

  ‘It’s the worst weather we’ve had in Britain for decades. How do you think ordinary folk can get their laundry dry?’

  She stopped so suddenly he cannoned into her and they both narrowly avoided ending up on the floor. Whilst he’d been struggling to regain his balance and keep her from falling, she’d remained within his grasp, but as soon as they were steady she stepped away.

  ‘Point taken, flight lieutenant. My mother called me a snob the other day and now you’ve confirmed her opinion. Excuse me, I’m going to find the powder room.’

  She was gone before he could react. He watched her move gracefully through the crowd and was aware how many admiring glances she got from the men she hurried past. For some reason, their interest annoyed him.

  He wasn’t going in search of her – he’d monopolised her for far too long and didn’t want to cause comment – but he’d keep a careful watch and make sure none of the men under his command did anything to cause her further distress.

  After circulating, stopping to talk to as many from the village as he could, he returned to the tables and chairs thinking Sarah must be sitting down and that’s why he couldn’t see her. But she wasn’t there. He was now seriously concerned as she’d been absent for almost an hour and it had just been announced that the afternoon tea was about to be served.

  From his height he could see over the heads of most of the people in the room and was quite certain she wasn’t there. He would find Lady Harcourt and ask her if she knew where her daughter was. She too appeared to have vanished into thin air but he saw Tony heading for the canteen and pushed his way through the crowd so he could speak to him.

  ‘Have the Harcourts gone home, Tony? I can’t find either of them.’

  ‘The girl was feeling unwell and Joanna insisted on returning with her. They left some time ago. Don’t look so disappointed, old bean, they’re both out of our league. Plenty of pretty popsies here tonight for us to canoodle with.’

  ‘I’m not interested in canoodling with anyone, Tony. I’ve got a couple of things I need to do in the office but I’ll be back in an hour.’

  He hadn’t bothered to bring his greatcoat to the dance as finding it again would have proved difficult with so many other coats piled in heaps on the tables in the cloakroom. God knows how anyone would find their own belongings and boots when the event finished.

  The temperature had dropped by several degrees, the cold caught his throat and he could feel the inside of his nostrils freezing. The concrete had been cleared of snow but there were patches of ice underfoot which were potentially lethal. The fact that it was now dark didn’t help.

  When he shone his torch to where the Bentley had been parked, he saw Tony was right – Lady Harcourt and Sarah had gone home. He didn’t blame them, he was going to abandon the dance too. There didn’t seem much point being there now Sarah had gone home.

  He slithered his way across to the offices and his own billet and fumbled for his keys. He thought to try the door and it opened. Some silly bugger had forgotten to lock up – the petty cash was kept here as well as records and information that wasn’t exactly top secret, but certainly not for general consumption.

  The interior of the building was pleasantly warm but it took him a few moments to recover. It occurred to him that returning the villagers was going to be considerably more perilous than bringing them. Holding a dance in this weather had been a bad idea and he should have cancelled it and put up with the flak that would have followed from the enlisted men.

  The blackouts were permanently drawn so there was no need to worry about putting on the lights although he doubted there would be any vigilant wardens about tonight. There certainly wouldn’t be any Luftwaffe coming to drop bombs. So far, the only enemy kites they’d seen had been reconnaissance aircraft and most of those had been chased off.

  RAF bases would be the first places to be attacked and being only a mile from the coast closest to France meant Manston was likely to get a hammering once things kicked off. He pushed the sombre thought aside and went to the cabinet to find the file he needed for tomorrow.

  AC2 Frederick Jenkins had volunteered at the start of the war, which somewhat contradicted his belligerent attitude and statement that men like him were being used as cannon fodder. His membership of the Communist Party meant he would never get a commission, and was unlikely to get promotion either. If Stalin’s Russia remained neutral then he rather thought anyone with such affiliations might well be in trouble with the authorities.

  Angus filled out the requisite forms to put the man on a charge for insubordination and behaviour towards civilians which brought the service into disrepute. Tomorrow he would have the man arrested and brought before him. He would have Jenkins transferred if necessary. This wasn’t the first time the man had been in trouble and it needed to be dealt with now. Tony had been too lax where discipline was concerned.

  Sarah was relieved to reach Goodwill House without mishap. ‘There was no need for you to come back with me, Mummy. I didn’t want to ruin your afternoon.’

  ‘Good heavens, darling, do you really think I would have been prepared to travel in the back of a lorry in this gown? No, I did enjoy myself but was quite ready to return.’

  Her mother jumped out of the Bentley close to the side door and Sarah drove it into the barn alone. This gave her a valuable few minutes to decide exactly how she was going to explain her reasons for deciding to abandon the party so precipitously.

  She wasn’t exactly sure herself what had made her decide to leave. It had been a combination of the unpleasant experience with the airman and the exchange between herself and Angus. She tried not to think of herself as better than others, but her upbringing had made her see that her life was quite different from the majority of those she met.

  The house they lived in was the largest in the neighbourhood by far and, until the turn of the century, she was pretty sure the family had once owned thousands of acres – had been indecently wealthy. Where had the money gone? It couldn’t all have been lost when businesses crashed a few years ago. She’d been too young to be bothered about outside events and had been more interested in her pony.

  A flurry of snow enveloped her as she struggled to close the barn doors. She shivered. There was definitely another blizzard on its way and she hoped the girls would get home safely. Bates had shut up the poultry before he’d left and there was no need for her to check on the horses as that was his job.

  Once in the house she removed her boots, hung up her thick coat and shoved her feet into her slippers. The house was eerily quiet – surely her mother hadn’t retired so soon? They’d not stayed for tea and so both of them would need something to eat.

  ‘Mummy, I’m going to light the fires upstairs so it will be warm when the girls get back. It’s snowing again.’

  ‘There’s no need to yell, Sarah, I’m in the kitchen, not the other side of the house,’ her mother called back brightly.

  ‘Put the kettle on, I’ll be down shortly.’

  It didn’t take long to get the fires going as the girls had left them ready to light. The coal cellar was accessed from the boot room so there was no necessity to go outside to get the coal or logs to keep the fires and the range burning.

  As she was already upstairs, she decided to take off her smart frock and change into her usual outfit of dungarees and jumper. Not flattering, but comfortable and warm.

  The kitchen as always was the warmest room in the house and Sarah wasn’t surprised to find her mother sitting at the table looking at last week’s newspaper.

  ‘Let’s eat now as our guests won’t want anything other than cocoa and toast. They’ll have stuffed themselves with the free afternoon tea. I almost wish I’d stayed now as the thought of scones, jam and cream is rather appealing.’

  ‘I think they should have cancelled the event,’ said her mother. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s at least one accident on the way home, not just because of the weather, but because some of those who came on foot might well be inebriated and end up dying of hypothermia in a ditch.’

  ‘That’s a happy thought, Mummy. The RAF invited them so it’s up to them to get them home safely. I’ll be glad when the weather improves as I’ve missed my weekly St John’s ambulance meetings. I’ve been thinking, if I can’t be a doctor then I’m going to train to be a nurse as having passed all the St John’s exams I’m already well qualified to do that.’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly allow you to do that, Sarah. Your father wouldn’t want you to do something that involved emptying bedpans and other awful things. Becoming a doctor is quite different – you would be giving the orders and the menial tasks would be carried out by the nurses.’

  ‘I’m not prepared to sit around doing nothing, Mummy.’

  ‘Daddy wouldn’t approve and I must stand in his stead.’

  ‘If I did decide to become a nurse, I could train at Ramsgate General. All nurses have to live in, but I’d be paid to train instead of having to pay. When I got a day off, I could come and see you, I wouldn’t be able to do that if I joined one of the services.’

  ‘I wouldn’t allow you to do that either. I’m sure you have to have your parents’ permission to do anything until you come of age…’

  ‘There’s a war on, Mummy, and we’ve all got to do our bit. Daddy has gone to fight the Germans in France and I’m quite possibly going to train to be a nurse and you will be accommodating female service personnel here. Nobody can say that the Harcourt family are slackers.’

  ‘You can’t leave me in this house on my own with six people to cater for. I only know how to make an omelette and vegetable soup.’

  Sarah laughed, gently. ‘Betty will be back long before I go – I can’t enrol until I’m seventeen and a half and that won’t be until March.’

  The kettle whistled and Sarah made the tea. They had scrambled eggs on toast and bottled plums and evaporated milk. The dance should have finished and it only took fifteen minutes to drive from the base.

  ‘I’d better unlock the front door as the girls will be back soon.’

  She wasn’t envious of the girls, she didn’t like crowds, and certainly wouldn’t accept any further invitations to the base. However, she had enjoyed talking to Angus and wouldn’t object to spending a little more time with him.

  The following morning there were icicles on the inside of the window. Sarah scrambled out of bed, collected her underwear and clothes, and got dressed under the covers. The girls had told her last night that they had enjoyed their outing and were delighted they could stay in comparative luxury, with absolutely nothing to do apart from domestic chores, until the weather improved.

  Sarah headed downstairs to get the range riddled so she could prepare the morning porridge. She hated it – gloopy, slimy stuff – but their guests had asked to have it served so she had no choice but to stand over a saucepan of oats stirring constantly until it thickened. She made it with milk and served it with sugar and jam, but even with these sweet additives she wouldn’t eat it herself.

  The blackouts were left in place until after breakfast so she’d no idea if the weather had worsened overnight. Occasionally, the windows rattled so there was obviously a storm of some sort raging outside. If it was too bad, neither Bates nor Billy would be able to come so, once the guests were fed, she’d have to go out and see to the horses herself.

  This was another thing she must deal with before she left – if she did pluck up the courage to go. The horses were an expensive luxury they couldn’t afford. She would try to find homes for the three of them because if she didn’t, they could end up at the knacker’s yard. This would be a dreadful shame as they were all thoroughbreds and had cost Daddy a fortune. There had always been horses here but these two weren’t hers and she couldn’t afford to be sentimental about keeping them.

  She pushed this horrible thought aside. There was enough fodder and bedding for one winter and as soon as it got warmer the three horses would be turned out in their rugs. If she had their shoes removed, that would be one less cost.

  The sound of voices approaching meant the WAAF were on their way. Mummy had yet to put in an appearance – she preferred to get up when all the work was done. That was going to have to change if she wanted Goodwill House to survive the war.

  Joanna had greeted the girls last night but left Sarah to deal with them and hear all their excited chatter about who they’d danced with and so on. She’d retreated to the small sitting room they used and had been delighted that the fire had been lit for her. She’d had a lot to think about and none of it pleased her.

  If her daughter insisted on enrolling either as a student nurse or in one of the services, then running the house would be left to her and Betty. When she’d been living at home, Joanna hadn’t had to do more than hang up her own clothes – everything else had been done by a live-in maid. The house and kitchen had been run efficiently by Mrs Hendry so she’d never had to take care of herself.

  On her marriage, she’d been even more mollycoddled as David wouldn’t allow her to lift a finger. A servant would be fetched even to open the curtains or put a log on the fire. Running this enormous house with just one inside servant was going to mean she’d have to do a lot of the menial tasks herself.

  Only now did she understand just how much Sarah must have been doing to keep the household running smoothly since the war started, and without a murmur of complaint. Being chairman of the WVS and an active member of the WI was something within her capabilities, something she was confident doing, but housework, cooking and other mundane tasks didn’t appeal to her at all. Goodness knows how she was going to cope if she was left in charge of running the house and it was full of boarders.

  Another thing she wasn’t familiar with was being in charge of finances. David had paid all the bills and taken care of that side of things and since he’d gone she was just muddling through. She was Lady Harcourt, everybody in the village looked up to her, she had standards to adhere to and couldn’t let the side down.

  What would people think if they knew she was so short of money she had to take in lodgers and act as cleaner and housekeeper herself? Her mind wasn’t any clearer today. She recalled word for word last night’s conversation with Sarah.

  ‘Mummy, the girls have gone up and said they’d make their own cocoa later. This is the last of the coffee and I doubt we’ll get any more. Even if it was available in the village stores, it’s too expensive for us now.’

  ‘Sarah, I’ve decided that you can’t leave here until you’ve got permission from your father. I’m going to write to him now. The letters seem to take about two weeks to reach him and the same to return so you should get your answer by the end of February.’