Dilys rolled her eyes. ‘What she’s trying to tell you is that she’s besotted with some officer she served lunch to today.’
Bobby sat on her bunk and started rolling down her itchy lisle stockings. ‘Who is he, Car?’
Carol put out her cigarette and pushed herself up, her eyes sparkling. ‘You’ll never guess. He’s a Yank! My first one.’
Bobby frowned. ‘What would a Yank be doing here?’
‘He was in an RAF uniform. Guess he must be a whatchamacallit – you know, the ones that joined our Air Force right at the start. Eagle Squadron.’ Carol sighed again. ‘And Bobs, he looks so like Robert Taylor it’s untrue.’
‘Doesn’t exist,’ Dilys muttered as she went back to laying out her cards. ‘You shouldn’t read so many film magazines, Car. They’re giving you hallucinations.’
‘Honestly, he’s solid – dead solid,’ Carol said with a grin. ‘Those shoulders! I didn’t get his name but I guess he’s a new instructor. Never served him before so he must be just arrived, which means hopefully no one’s got their claws into him yet.’
‘Why would they send a Yank here as an instructor?’ Bobby asked. ‘The Eagles are fighter squadrons. Ryland Moor trains bomber crew.’
‘Maybe they sent him especially for me,’ Carol said, smirking.
‘So much for finding men for us all,’ Dilys grumbled. ‘Should’ve known you’d bag the best one for yourself.’
‘There’s plenty to go around,’ Carol said airily. ‘I’ve got my eye on some for you three, don’t worry.’
‘I told you—’ Bobby began.
‘Yes, we know, you’re far too deeply in love to ever betray the wonderful Charles,’ Carol said, clutching her heart. ‘Like I said, this is in case you change your mind. Just remember though, ladies: the American flying officer’s mine, all right?’
Chapter 33
Bobby didn’t have long to wait to set eyes on the new love of Carol’s life: this handsome American officer. In fact, she saw him the next day, when the women arrived at the hut where they were forced to sit through long, dull lectures on the history of the service.
‘Surely we must know everything there is to know about the history of the RAF by now,’ Mike muttered as they went in.
‘It’s not history today,’ said one of the WAAFs filing in alongside them. ‘I heard it was going to be first aid.’
‘No, that’s not right,’ another said. ‘We’ve got a first aid demonstration after lunch, before the route march.’
‘Well, what is it then?’
‘International relations or something,’ another woman said, stifling a yawn. ‘Some officer is going to talk about cooperating with foreign Allied services and all that rot. Here, let’s grab a desk at the back and see if we can have a crafty kip while they’re droning on.’
‘Oh blimey.’ Carol grabbed Bobby’s arm. ‘I bet it’s him!’
‘What, your divine Yank?’
‘Who else could it be? There aren’t any other foreign officers in the mess.’
‘But you said he was RAF,’ Bobby pointed out. ‘Why would they get an RAF officer to talk to us about working with foreign services? If he’s one of ours he won’t have any special knowledge, even if he is American.’
‘I don’t know, do I? I’m sure it has to be him though. Come on, before the good desks are taken.’
Carol dragged her three friends to the front. Since most recruits preferred to sit as far back as they could, out of sight of the lecturer, they were able to claim a place right in the centre.
‘You’d better be right about this, Car,’ Dilys whispered. ‘Otherwise we’ve got an hour of having to sit up prim and proper for some ugly old officer while everyone at the back is playing Noughts and Crosses.’
A man appeared and mounted the lecturer’s podium – a short, squat RAF NCO. Carol looked devastated, until she realised this wasn’t the lecturer but someone to introduce him.
‘Settle down, ladies, settle down,’ the man said pompously. ‘This morning’s lecture will be on the subject of “Our Commonwealth Allies, and How We’re Stronger Together”. In a moment it will be my privilege to introduce Flying Officer Ernest King of the Royal Canadian Air Force, who has recently joined us at Ryland Moor.’
Bobby blinked. ‘No!’
