Adelaide. “But I wouldn’t want to spend my time simply translating documents. I want to do my bit in a more active way.”
“Then by all means put in for retraining,” agreed the group captain easily, “but I shall miss you as a driver!”
It was when she’d been home on a forty-eight that she saw Andrew again. He had come to see her on the first morning.
“Andrew!” she cried in surprised delight as she greeted him with a hug.
“Heard you were home from Grand’mère,” he said. “I’ve got a forty-eight too. Thought we might do a show, or would you rather have dinner and dance somewhere?”
“Both?” suggested Adelaide hopefully, adding as he laughed, “Well two days in London is too much of an opportunity to miss, don’t you think?”
He did think, and when they came out of the theatre he took her on to the Savoy. They had a wonderful evening together and when he finally took her home again it was into the small hours of the morning. Even so, she invited him in and they sat over one last drink before he left.
“My train goes first thing,” he said, nursing a glass of Richard’s best cognac, “so there’s no point in going home to bed.”
“Won’t Grand’mère wonder where you are?” teased Adelaide, knowing that he was meant to be staying at their grandmother’s house.
He grinned his familiar grin. “She’ll be tucked up in bed so she won’t know I wasn’t there, will she? Anyway, I have to go back before I leave to collect my kit, so I’ll see her then.”
“Where are you going?” asked Adelaide with interest. “You didn’t say.”
“No, I didn’t,” agreed Andrew. “Up north.”
“Have you finished at the Air Ministry, then?”
“For now.”
“And you can’t tell me…?”
“No.”
Adelaide shrugged good-naturedly. “Fair enough. Though actually, I’m not a German spy.”
“Aren’t you?” grinned Andrew. “Well you never know! ‘Careless talk costs lives!’” The well-worn slogan made them both laugh.
They had been talking about her life on the air base and Adelaide had told him how she felt about her driving and wanting to retrain.
“I must do something better than driving. Anyone can do that!”
“You are doing important work,” Andrew said as he listened. “But, I agree, anyone trained properly could do your job. I think you’re right to be looking for something else, but not a plotter or r/t operator. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling what you want to do,” he added hastily as she began to protest, “far from it. It’s just that you have other talents and skills that are not so readily available, which could be put to good use.”
Adelaide looked surprised. “Like what?” she asked.
“Like speaking French like a native,” he said. “Thanks to Grand’mère your French is perfect.”
“And to the university. I did get my degree, you know,” Adelaide pointed out.
Andrew laughed. “That’s all about French lit,” he said. “Being able to spout Molière is not so helpful when there’s a war on and France occupied!”
“So what sort of thing?” asked Adelaide intrigued.
Andrew shrugged. “Well, translation of documents, that sort of thing,” he said vaguely. “Acting as interpreter for Free French brass, something like that. I could have a word, if you like.”
Adelaide wasn’t particularly keen on this idea, but she didn’t say so. She did not really think he would have any influence in such matters. For her own part she had no intention of applying for such a position. When the time came, she had decided, she would put in for r/t training.
However, Andrew must have had the ear of someone, because here she was waiting to find out what they might want her to do.
It must be using my French, she thought. I can’t think of anything else.
A door opened and a man came out. He was in his early forties, tall and thin, dressed in the uniform of an army captain. He walked over to Adelaide. “Aircraftswoman
“Then by all means put in for retraining,” agreed the group captain easily, “but I shall miss you as a driver!”
It was when she’d been home on a forty-eight that she saw Andrew again. He had come to see her on the first morning.
“Andrew!” she cried in surprised delight as she greeted him with a hug.
“Heard you were home from Grand’mère,” he said. “I’ve got a forty-eight too. Thought we might do a show, or would you rather have dinner and dance somewhere?”
“Both?” suggested Adelaide hopefully, adding as he laughed, “Well two days in London is too much of an opportunity to miss, don’t you think?”
He did think, and when they came out of the theatre he took her on to the Savoy. They had a wonderful evening together and when he finally took her home again it was into the small hours of the morning. Even so, she invited him in and they sat over one last drink before he left.
“My train goes first thing,” he said, nursing a glass of Richard’s best cognac, “so there’s no point in going home to bed.”
“Won’t Grand’mère wonder where you are?” teased Adelaide, knowing that he was meant to be staying at their grandmother’s house.
He grinned his familiar grin. “She’ll be tucked up in bed so she won’t know I wasn’t there, will she? Anyway, I have to go back before I leave to collect my kit, so I’ll see her then.”
“Where are you going?” asked Adelaide with interest. “You didn’t say.”
“No, I didn’t,” agreed Andrew. “Up north.”
“Have you finished at the Air Ministry, then?”
“For now.”
“And you can’t tell me…?”
“No.”
Adelaide shrugged good-naturedly. “Fair enough. Though actually, I’m not a German spy.”
“Aren’t you?” grinned Andrew. “Well you never know! ‘Careless talk costs lives!’” The well-worn slogan made them both laugh.
They had been talking about her life on the air base and Adelaide had told him how she felt about her driving and wanting to retrain.
“I must do something better than driving. Anyone can do that!”
“You are doing important work,” Andrew said as he listened. “But, I agree, anyone trained properly could do your job. I think you’re right to be looking for something else, but not a plotter or r/t operator. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not belittling what you want to do,” he added hastily as she began to protest, “far from it. It’s just that you have other talents and skills that are not so readily available, which could be put to good use.”
Adelaide looked surprised. “Like what?” she asked.
“Like speaking French like a native,” he said. “Thanks to Grand’mère your French is perfect.”
“And to the university. I did get my degree, you know,” Adelaide pointed out.
Andrew laughed. “That’s all about French lit,” he said. “Being able to spout Molière is not so helpful when there’s a war on and France occupied!”
“So what sort of thing?” asked Adelaide intrigued.
Andrew shrugged. “Well, translation of documents, that sort of thing,” he said vaguely. “Acting as interpreter for Free French brass, something like that. I could have a word, if you like.”
Adelaide wasn’t particularly keen on this idea, but she didn’t say so. She did not really think he would have any influence in such matters. For her own part she had no intention of applying for such a position. When the time came, she had decided, she would put in for r/t training.
However, Andrew must have had the ear of someone, because here she was waiting to find out what they might want her to do.
It must be using my French, she thought. I can’t think of anything else.
A door opened and a man came out. He was in his early forties, tall and thin, dressed in the uniform of an army captain. He walked over to Adelaide. “Aircraftswoman
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