Free As Time Goes By by Annie Groves Page A

frowned as she saw the relief in Mouse’s expression as she handed over her supper. She had noticed that Mouse had only had a few bites out of the sandwiches they’d been given for their midday meal, and now she wasn’t eating her supper.
    ‘You’ve got to eat something,’ she told her, ‘especially if Captain Elland is going to keep us working the way he did today.’
    Just the mention of the captain’s name was enough to have Mouse trembling and blinkingback tears, and Sam cursed herself inwardly. She had never come across anyone like Mouse before and her pity for her warred with her own far more robust temperament.
    Later in the evening, when the girls were enjoying an hour’s relaxation in their shared common room, Hazel confirmed Sam’s own opinion of Mouse by commenting to her quietly, ‘That poor kid, she should never have been allowed to join up. Pity that no one’s seen that and sent her home. She’s far too nervy to be in uniform. We’ll need to keep an eye on her.’
    ‘I thought she was going to break down in tears and run off when Captain Elland refused to let her go to the lavatory,’ Sam confided. ‘Mind you, it was a rotten thing to do to the poor kid.’
    ‘It sounds to me as though you’re going to have to watch out with him, Sam,’ Hazel warned her, looking serious. ‘You do get that sort sometimes, worse luck, and sadistic bastards they are too. Toadie’s another of the same breed. Wants bringing down a peg or two, she does. Pity we can’t give her a dose of her own medicine, not that I should be saying so. I think we’d better talk about something else.’ She looked pointedly at her corporal’s stripes and then took a deep breath and told Sam lightly, ‘I hope you’ve brought a decent dance frock with you. I dare say I should warn you that there’s a strong bit of competition between the services here in Liverpool to see whose girls can look the best. All the more so because we’ve got a fair contingent of Wrens based here, working at DerbyHouse.’ A small shadow sobered her expression. ‘They are the Senior Service, of course, and don’t they know it. Their uniforms make ours look very poor, especially their stockings.’ She gave Sam a rueful smile. ‘Of course, we should be thinking about far higher-minded things than stockings. There is a war on, after all, but sometimes … If you are keen on this sergeant I’d advise you to keep him away from them.’
    ‘I’m not keen on him, not at all,’ Sam denied quickly, ‘and as for the dance,’ she gave a small shrug and tried not to look as uncomfortable as she felt, ‘to be honest I’m not really one for frocks.’
    ‘So what are you going to wear?’ Hazel asked her bluntly. ‘A siren suit?’
    Sam forced herself to laugh, knowing that was the response Hazel was expecting, but the truth was that she would have felt far more comfortable in a siren suit, as people had nicknamed the all-in-one padded suits people wore at night to keep them warm in the air-raid shelters, than she ever could in a pretty dance frock.
    She could remember the disappointment creasing her mother’s face when she had refused to wear the pretty dresses she had made for her, especially when she was older and of an age to go to dances. She hadn’t been able to explain to her how awkward and ugly they made her feel, like a fish out of water, as she struggled with the restrictions they forced on her.
    ‘I’ll probably wear my uniform,’ she told Hazel carelessly.
    ‘You can’t do that. Not with the Wrens there showing off theirs,’ Hazel told her firmly. ‘Look, if you haven’t brought a frock with you then I’ve got a spare and we’re much the same size. I don’t mind lending it to you.’
    ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly …’ Sam protested.
    ‘Don’t be silly, of course you can,’ Hazel contradicted her. ‘And that’s an order, Private,’ she added with a grin.
    Sam tried to look enthusiastic and grateful, knowing there