Dash stiffened at the mention of Jim. He had cornered her a few days ago, asking her to dinner again. She’d refused politely, but he had smiled in that ugly way of his and said something about wearing her down over time. Then he’d patted her bottom when she turned back to her bay. Shocked, she’d spun back to face him, but he only grinned over his shoulder as he walked away. She wished he’d been closer so she could have slapped him.
“If he’s going, I’m not,” she told her friends. “He chases a lot of skirts that don’t belong to his wife. I don’t want to be in the same room with him if I don’t have to.”
“He watches Dash like a lion watches a lamb,” Ginny told Mary.
Mary shuddered. “He sounds like a pig. My Arnold has an uncle I try to avoid. I don’t like the way he looks at me.”
Dash wasn’t naive, she just hadn’t ever had to face any of this before. Growing up, she’d always been one of the boys, albeit one who could dress to impress. She’d thrived in a world of baseball and hockey, car engines and dirt. Fred and Gus and all the other boys cheered when she was on their team. She’d gone to dances and she’d flirted, but no one had ever taken advantage. If they had, she knew she could count on Gus and the others to defend her. The boys she’d grown up with had shown respect. This aggressive behaviour was new to her, and unsettling. She’d told Jim no, then she’d told him no again, but it hadn’t changed anything. She tried changing tactics by coming to work with messy hair and no makeup at all. She was curt with him, but he always followed. Either he thought her rejections weren’t important enough to acknowledge, or he was just plain stupid. Dash was at a loss for what to do.
She needed this job, and the last thing she wanted was to annoy the boss’s son. The Wrens had placed her here because she was a good mechanic, and she was determined to earn their respect. Every day she did her job to the best of her abilities, and she knew the men in the shop were impressed, though none of them would say anything out loud. But along the way she’d discovered that her skills wouldn’t be enough. When she’d felt the slap of Jim’s palm against her backside, she’d understood this wasn’t something she could simply hope would go away.
She felt Ginny’s sympathy constantly, but her friend was trapped as well. Jim wasn’t coming after her in the same way, but if Ginny said anything about his conduct, she could jeopardize her job as well. They’d talked about the problem on their walks home, and Dash had told her not to worry about it, since there was nothing she could do. It was an awful feeling. The more they spoke about it, the more humiliated Dash felt. She didn’t want anyone else to know, so she left it out of her letters to her family.
But Jim was getting more brazen by the day. She’d have to be more forceful, though that could spell the end of her job. What choice did she have?
thirteenDOT— Oshawa, Ontario —
It was after a particularly encouraging French lesson that Dot received the same letter Dash had gotten a month or so before, only this time it was addressed to her. She broke into a cold sweat just holding it. Soon she would board her first train, ride the rails toward HMCS Conestoga like Dash had, and she would become a probationary Wren. A member of the navy. The very idea would have been inconceivable to her a few weeks ago.
The night before she was to leave, Dot pulled out her suitcase and stared at it, wondering what on earth she should bring. When she had packed for Dash, she had filled the suitcase with a lot of sweaters, but they took up far too much space and they’d had to repack. Shoes? She hesitated, then tucked two pairs into the sides. Would she need that many? After all, she would be getting a uniform identical to Dash’s—
“Don’t you dare close that suitcase yet,” her father said, appearing in the doorway.
“Oh, Dad. I have to.” She felt homesick already. How on earth would she survive this ordeal without her father’s sage council and company? Who else would understand her like he did? “I’m sorry.”
“Not without this.”
He pulled a bag from behind his back and presented Dot with a new crossword puzzle book. She hugged him and tried valiantly not to cry. She shouldn’t leave. Who would he do crosswords with? Who would bring him a cup of pretend coffee? Who would look after him when he had one of his headaches?
“I’ll miss you so much, Dad. Are you positive you and Mom will be all right?”
“My darling Dorothy. You must stop worrying about us. Your mother and I have each other, and we’ve been around a long time. Still, I will miss my crossword buddy.”
Dot held in a sob and gave him another squeeze.
The next morning she stood on the crowded train platform, her parents on either side of her, feeling unbalanced. Gosh, she was scared. If only Dash was there. When Dot had written to her about joining the Wrens, she hadn’t mentioned her reticence. She’d never told Dash about the hours she’d sat alone, paralyzed by anxiety. She hadn’t needed to, because Dash knew her inside out. She would have known this was the most difficult decision Dot had ever made.
“All aboard!”
“Oh no,” Dot whispered. “Is it too late to change my mind?”
“You’re going to be fine,” her mother said, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. “Have fun, learn lots, and don’t take any garbage from anyone. Make lots of friends.”
“We’re so proud.” Her father’s voice wavered, and she nearly broke. “I know you will do so much good out there. You will be saving lives. There is no greater honour.”
When it was time, Dot climbed onto the train, found a seat, and smiled gamely out the window at her family, trying to mask her fear. Dot was eighteen, a grown woman, like Dash had said before. It was time to grow up and take responsibility for herself. This was exactly what she needed to do.
A tall, slender girl with a tweed coat and a head full of bouncing orange curls paused by her seat. “May I sit here?”
Dot froze, then said, “Of course.” Goodness. If she was this nervousmeeting a friendly stranger on the train, how on earth would she manage the Wrens? She cleared her throat as the girl settled next to her. “My name’s Dot Wilson.”
“What a fun name,” she said. “I’m Alice Renwick. I don’t suppose you’re with the Wrens, are you?”
“I am.”
Alice grinned, revealing a mouthful of slightly crooked teeth. “I am, too. Maybe we’ll be roommates. I’m excited, aren’t you?”
Dot reminded herself to speak slowly. “I suppose I am. I’ve never been away from home before.”
