‘Shush, Bobs,’ Mike murmured, ventriloquist-style. The NCO glared in their direction, but didn’t reprimand them for talking out of turn.
‘Flying Officer King is taking a temporary hiatus from operational flying while he heals from an injury sustained in the course of his duties,’ the man went on. ‘I hope you will remember to treat him with the respect he deserves. Now, notebooks at the ready.’
The NCO went to fetch Ernie, and Bobby took advantage of the hubbub that arose while the WAAFs hunted for writing materials to whisper to Carol.
‘I thought you said he was a Yank,’ she hissed.
Carol shrugged. ‘Well, he sounds like a Yank. Anyway, he’s still bagged.’
‘What’s up, Bobs?’ Mike asked.
Bobby tucked an escaped tendril of hair under her cap, feeling flustered. ‘Nothing.’
‘It doesn’t look like nothing,’ Dilys observed. ‘You’re red as anything, you are. What’s the secret?’
Bobby was spared the necessity of answering by the arrival of the NCO, showing in their speaker. As soon as Ernie entered, twenty-odd heads swivelled in his direction.
Behind her, Bobby heard a WAAF whisper to her friend, ‘Bloody hell! How many coupons do you need for something as sweet as that?’ Her pal guffawed appreciatively.
Bobby couldn’t avoid him noticing her. Thanks to Carol, they were directly in front of the speaker’s podium. Sure enough, she saw Ernie blink when he spotted her, and then the twitch of a smile. She didn’t smile back but looked straight ahead, summoning all the military professionalism she could muster.
Ernie King, here! Topsy had told her he was down in Cambridge.
Various emotions flooded her. Pleasure at seeing her friend looking so well after his recent injury, with his arm now out of its sling. Guilt, still, over that night on the ice. Confusion about what the look he had given her might have meant. Worry about Charlie, and how he would feel if he knew Ernie was here with her while he was far away. Fear about whether he would still care, or if he had really forgotten her. But more than all that, Bobby felt an overwhelming sensation of comfort at seeing a face that belonged to home. Ernie King, something familiar amongst all this strangeness, felt like a panacea for the gnawing homesickness she was unable to shake off.
He had mounted the podium now, and was endeavouring to catch her eye. Bobby allowed him to do so, flashing a small smile. He smiled warmly back before turning his attention to the recruits waiting for him to speak.
Bobby didn’t hear much of the talk on Commonwealth relations. She was too bowled over by Ernie’s unexpected appearance. What she did hear didn’t sound particularly enthralling, although you might have thought Ernie was another Svengali, the way he seemed to hold his audience rapt. It was clear Carol was going to have some competition for his favours.
Would he speak to her, afterwards? Bobby half hoped he wouldn’t. Her friends were already suspicious about her pink cheeks. She could dissemble her way out of that, perhaps, but if Ernie acknowledged their prior relationship, she would be bombarded with questions about him.
After the lecture, the pompous NCO engaged Ernie in conversation. For a moment, Bobby thought she might be able to slip out unseen in spite of the crowd of women pressing through the door so they could be first in the queue for lunch. The NCO disappeared as she was preparing to fight her way out, however, and Ernie hailed her at once.
‘Hey. Slacks.’
Her friends hadn’t hurried to leave, lingering to enjoy a last gaze at the object of Carol’s affections. They stared at Bobby on hearing her thus acknowledged, and she cursed her stupid flushed cheeks.
‘Ernie,’ she said, smiling warmly. Despite the muddle of emotions, she was genuinely pleased to see him. ‘I mean, sorry.’ She whipped off a salute. ‘Flying Officer King.’
He laughed. ‘At ease, Aircraftwoman Slacks. It is Aircraftwoman, I assume?’
Bobby laughed too, relaxing a little. ‘Yes, ACW/2, the very lowliest of erks. May I shine your boots, sir?’
He stepped towards her, and for a moment she thought he might take her hands, but he didn’t, thank God.
‘No, but you can have a drink with me in the NAAFI tomorrow night.’ He nodded politely to the other three, who were gogglingat him wonderingly. ‘And your friends, of course. It’s good to see a familiar face.’
Carol came forward to slip her arm through Bobby’s. ‘We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Bobs?’ She beamed at Ernie. ‘I’m her best friend.’
Ernie laughed. ‘A new best friend already? You’ve barely been here a week, Slacks. Have you forgotten Her Ladyship so soon?’
Mike frowned. ‘Ladyship? What ladyship? Bobsy, do you know a ladyship?’
Bobby cursed Ernie silently. What did he have to go and say that for? She was struggling enough to shake off a reputation for holier-than-thou primness without it getting out that she knocked around with the landed gentry.
‘Oh, it’s just a nickname for a mutual friend,’ she told Mike airily, casting Ernie a keep-quiet look. ‘Mrs Nowak. I was maid of honour at her wedding recently.’
‘A wedding that the RAF decreed I had to miss,’ Ernie said. ‘How about tomorrow night then, girls? Bobby, you can tell me all about the nuptials over a drink.’
