As Time Goes By by Annie Groves

gets them back if this new baby is a boy.’
    ‘It’s hard on the kiddies having to grow up in this war, bless ’em,’ Doris said quietly.
    ‘I’ve got to go,’ Sally told her, calling over her shoulder as she hurried down the hallway, ‘I’ll be back around half twelve as usual.’
    No, she shouldn’t think badly of Ronnie, not with him being where he was, she told herself fiercely as she stepped out into the street, her heart thumping. Sometimes she missed him so much she could hardly bear her longing to see him, whilst at other times she felt so angry with him that she couldn’t bear the thought of ever seeing him again. One thing she did know was that he wouldn’t have meant to leave her with all this mess, but he could be such a softie, for all that he was a soldier.
    The continual dull ache of her anxiety for him since she had been told he had been taken prisoner when Singapore had surrendered, which she had banked down as best she could, unexpectedly burst into a surge of panic and fear. No one wanted to talk about it openly but everyone had heard the horribly graphic reports coming out of the Far Eastof the way the Japanese treated their prisoners. She had read about it herself in Picture Post , and only the other day another woman had broken down on her shift and said that she almost wished her son had been killed outright rather than her having to think about what might be happening to him.
    Sally broke into a faster walk. Sometimes there were things it just didn’t do to think about.
       
    Hazel’s rueful, ‘Oh dear’ as she finished fastening the last of the white buttons, which ran from the square neckline of the cornflower-blue and white floral frock she was loaning Sam to just short of the hem of its flared skirt, confirmed all of Sam’s own worst fears. She obviously looked every bit as dreadful in the dress as she had feared, despite the fact that it was very pretty, and should have suited her fair colouring.
    ‘Lynsey, May, come and look at this,’ she called without taking her gaze off Sam. Obediently the other girls came over and, like Hazel, stood in front of Sam and frowned.
    ‘It’s me,’ Sam told them desperately. Her face was so hot she felt sure it must be the colour of a tomato. ‘I’m just not frock person. They don’t suit me.’
    ‘It’s the waist, that’s what it is,’ Lynsey announced, totally ignoring Sam. ‘She’s a lot smaller than you, Hazel. Put a belt round her waist to pull it in a bit and it will be fine, won’t it, May?’

    ‘Have you got a belt, Sam?’ Hazel asked. ‘A white one would be best.’
    Sam shook her head.
    ‘I’ve got one,’ Mouse suddenly piped up, surprising them all. ‘I’ve got a cousin who used to work in a dress shop before the war and she gave it to me.’
    ‘Let’s have a look at it then, Mouse,’ May encouraged.
    When Mouse handed over a wide white patent leather belt she had all the girls oohing with envy.
    ‘I can’t wear that,’ Sam protested. Somehow the belt epitomised everything she knew she could never be. It was made to encircle the waist of someone dainty and pretty, with curls and dimples, not a girl like her, but it was no use her protesting. Hazel was already cinching the belt around her waist.
    ‘My heavens, will you just look at that,’ May breathed.
    ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Sam demanded tensely.
    ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ Lynsey told her, ‘excepting that nearly every other girl at the Grafton tonight will be wanting to kill you for having such a tiny waist, you lucky thing.’
    ‘Lynsey’s right, Sam,’ Hazel agreed. ‘That belt sets the frock off perfectly and it pulls in the loose fabric on the waist.’
    ‘But maybe Mouse wanted to wear her belt herself,’ Sam pointed out, struggling to get used to the odd sensation of both the belt and the skirt.

    ‘Not with that skirt and blouse she won’t,’ Lynsey pronounced firmly. ‘It won’t go with them.’
    ‘Sam, stop arguing,