Page 129

You are cordially invited to

a showcase of original designs by

fourteen London dressmakers

in aid of the War Widows’ Fund

16th June 1942

Two o’clock

Winman House

Eaton Square, Belgravia

RSVP

Izzie,

I thought you’d like an official invitation to the proceedings. I wish you could attend and see what a wonderful thing we have created.

Your loving sister,

Sylvia

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jack picked Izzie up in a civilian car at five o’clock sharp on the ninth of June.

“How did you manage to borrow a civilian car and find enough petrol to run it?” she asked in wonder as he held the passenger door open for her.

“I have my ways,” he said with a grin.

She climbed in and, once she was settled, held her hands on her lap to keep them from shaking.

The rest of the unit thought that Jack was taking her to the train station to visit an aged aunt just over the border in Essex, but when Alexandra had shot her a look as though to say And what aged aunt would this be exactly?, Izzie pulled her away and confessed.

“Going away with a man?” Alexandra asked, sounding impressed.

“You don’t think it’s a bad idea, do you?” she asked.

“Izzie, all I’ve ever had are a few chaste kisses. What do I know?”

“There’s always Ben,” she teased.

Alexandra made a face. “Ben Martin is the kind of man who doesn’t think he’s looking for a wife but most certainly is, and I’m not looking for a husband quite yet. I still have some adventures I want to live. Anyway, this is about you and your night with Jack. Just remember, don’t do anything you don’t wish to and make sure that Jack takes precautions if it comes to that.”

“Alexandra,” she hissed, blushing fiercely.

Her friend shrugged. “I’m simply saying, it makes sense to be sensible if you don’t want to be bounced out of the WAAF for falling pregnant. Otherwise, go enjoy yourself. It’s boring being too good.”

Now, bolstered by both her sister’s advice and Alexandra’s endorsement, Izzie sat nervously but happily while Jack rounded the bonnet and climbed behind the wheel.

“Nervous?” he asked as he turned over the ignition.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Don’t be,” he said. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”