“Can you at least try to stay in touch? Even if it’s a few lines of your messy handwriting, I’ll take it.”
“I’ll do my best,” he replied.
“And if they ever ask for an errand boy again, raise your hand.”
He stuck it up. “I promise.”
“I gotta go,” she said reluctantly. “This night has flown by.”
He stood and held out his arm. “I’ll walk you.”
The snow had stopped before it really got started, but it was still chilly. The streets were dark, with barely a car to cast a passing light along the shiny street. They were the only two on the streetcar, and they sat quietly, lost in their thoughts. Dash felt like there had to be a million things to say, but she couldn’t find them. They’d run through everything, it seemed.
After a few minutes, she reached up and rang the bell. “This is my stop.”
He walked with her toward the darkened windows of the Pigeon Coop. The remains of Mrs. Pidgett’s fallow vegetable garden poked through the dark like ghosts, looking sad. Just above the front door Dash could picture her roommates, sound asleep.
“I’m so glad we had tonight,” Gus said. “I miss you.” He pulled her into a hug, and Dash squeezed him tight, fighting tears. “Please tell Dot I said hello, and that I miss her, too.”
“I will.”
For a split second she saw the little boy she’d grown up with, his mouth puckered with disappointment. “I wish we had longer.”
“Me, too.”
“Good night, Dash.”
“Good night, Gus.”
She closed the front door quietly behind her and hung up her coat, leaving her wet boots on the mat. On the stairs, she paused at the window and watched him walk away. He’d been so vague about what he was doing, and she was sad about that. Even if it was dull, she still wanted to know. Maybe he was ashamed about not physically helping the war effort. In a way, she felt sorry for him.
Mostly, though, she was relieved. Seeing him tonight, with his familiar blue eyes and that smile that warmed her all the way through, had been everything. Exactly what she’d needed, though their time together had been far too short.
Down the block, he turned the corner and was briefly lit by someone’s headlights. Funny how grown up he looked, and yet how young she suddenly felt, being with him again. He might not be happy about what he was doing, but she was. It was such a comfort knowing he wasn’t in danger. She couldn’t imagine living without him.
fifteenDOT— Galt, Ontario —
Dot bolted upright at the sound of the wake-up call: a blasting, distorted recording of a bugle reveille played through a loudspeaker. She had been at HMCS Conestoga for three days, and she still couldn’t get used to that noise.
“Let’s go, ladies! Ten minutes!”
She groaned without meaning to, trying to move stiff and sore limbs. All around her, similar sounds came from other bunks.
“Oh boy,” Alice muttered.
“Do you suppose we’ll have to run again even though we hurt this much?”
“I think, dear Dot, that they’ll make us run every day, no matter what.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Nonsense. There’s nothing we can’t do, my friend.” Alice swung her long legs over the side of the bunk. “Let’s get something to eat.”
Dot and her two dozen classmates had fifteen minutes in the mess hall for breakfast, where they downed a quick serving of oatmeal, bacon, and coffee. On her first morning, she’d barely eaten anything she was so nervous. Now that she knew what was coming, she gobbled down the entire plate.
That first day, Chief Wren Merrivale had gathered all the girls together and told them what would be expected of them over the next three weeks, in addition to their lessons and training. She made it clear that no matter how hard they worked during the day, there would be no getting away from scrubbing floors, pots, and toilets, and peeling vegetables for soup. It hadn’t surprised Dot to hear that they were not only there to learn, but to work. After all, the Wrens were a branch of the military.
It was the next part of the lecture that had taken Dot by surprise.
