Free Wartime Brides by Lizzie Lane

arms of a skeleton windmill.
    Aaron can’t have done anything very dreadful, she thought to herself as she skidded around the floor. If he had he would be under arrest, wouldn’t he? Unless he was facing trial, or unless he’d escaped.
    Haphazardly, because she was moving so fast, she tried to study the flurry of faces as she was whirled, thrown over a shoulder and slid along the floor. White, pink, brown and black, plus shades in between. This truly was an international alliance. Everyone was enjoying themselves and no one was interested in fighting.
    Polly eyed Aaron dreamily and imagined herself in slinky satin, looking every inch the glamour girl in a dimly lit American nightclub – just like Rita Hayworth – when suddenly someone tapped her on the shoulder.
    ‘Polly?’
    She looked up and came face to face with Edna.
    ‘Oh!’ she said, without thinking. ‘You’re the one with the fiancé.’
    Edna winced. ‘Yes. Edna,’ she said, realising that Polly probably remembered her fiancé more readily than her name by virtue of his injuries. ‘We’re having a night out – me and Colin that is. Care to join us? It was Charlotte’s suggestion. She’s been in constant touch since the other day and gave us a lift down in her car. Wasn’t that kind of her?’
    ‘I suppose it was,’ said Polly looking expectantly for the tall, elegantly attired woman who made her feel more envious than anyone else she’d ever known.
    ‘She’s not here,’ Edna added, realising that Polly was looking for her. ‘She’s picking us up at ten o’clock. She’s out collecting sewing for one of those things she does.’
    ‘Oh!’
    ‘I noticed you were sitting by yourself,’ Edna went on. ‘Would you care to join us?’
    ‘I am with someone,’ said Polly, nodding towards Aaron and studying Edna’s face for her reaction. She’d automatically expected her to look shocked, even to withdraw her offer when she saw she was with a black man. Instead a strangely wistful look came to her eyes.
    ‘He’s very talented,’ she said softly.
    Polly, suddenly full of pride to be with such a man, got to her feet and stretched to her full, diminutive height. ‘Reckons he’s going to be a musician.’ Then she followed Edna to the table where Colin was sitting patiently in his wheelchair.
    ‘Hi there!’ he shouted.
    Edna explained to him about Aaron and what his intentions were after the war.
    ‘Best of luck to the bloke,’ he said raising his glass. ‘It looks as though I’m going to be a toy maker if that Charlotte Hennessey-White has her way. First an aeroplane for her lad and now a battleship.’
    ‘You could make one for me,’ Polly said quickly, unable to control her need to outdo or, at least, equal Charlotte. ‘A wooden horse? Could you manage a wooden horse? It’s for my niece,’ she lied, and didn’t bat an eyelid. She rarely admitted to having a child.
    Colin agreed. ‘And what sort of future have you got planned out, Polly?’
    Now it was Polly’s turn to look wistful. Her eyes fixed on Aaron as she answered. ‘All I want to be is someone’s wife in a place as far away from here as possible.’
    Unseen by Polly, Edna and Colin exchanged knowing glances. They hoped it wasn’t Aaron she had in mind. Like Edna, Colin knew that the American army practised a colour bar. There would be no wedding bells for a mixed marriage, but neither of them could bring themselves to mention it.
    Polly insisted on leaving before Charlotte turned up, using the excuse that she had promised not to be late tonight. She couldn’t really explain how uncomfortable she felt when Charlotte was around. It just hurt to see those beautiful clothes and that perfectly coiffed hair.
    Polly introduced Aaron before they left. He offered her his arm once they were outside the door.
    ‘She’s a brave girl sticking by her guy like that,’ Aaron said softly.
    Polly pouted. ‘I suppose so. She doesn’t have to. Anyway how do you know for sure that