We'll meet again

"I am undecided... my mother does not want me to. She thinks I am better with them and the occasional visit to London. I had my work in Cornwall, as you know.”

"You could do something up here.”

"I suppose so. There has been no difficulty in finding replacements for me.”

"You must consider it. Cornwall is a little tucked away and travel is not easy in wartime. It has been such a pleasant evening for me.”

"For me, too.”

"We must do something like it again.”

"That would be enjoyable.”

"It is a promise, is it?”

"Of course.”

He kissed me lightly on the cheek and I went in. Dorabella was waiting up for me. She looked expectant.

"Well!”

"Well what?”

"How did it go?”

"The play was not very memorable; there was an air raid warning during it, and we had supper afterwards.”

"And Richard... how was he?”

"Very nice indeed.”

"And?”

"Isn't that enough?”

"In the circumstances, no.”

"What circumstances?”

"He's very attractive.”

"Oh, good night, Dorabella.”

"Nothing to report then?”

"Nothing.”

"You disappoint me.”

"There have been occasions when I felt the same about you.”

Banter, I thought. What did she expect? She was like my mother.

They were both hoping that I should give up grieving for Jowan.

They could not believe I would never forget.

The Dark Secret

Mary Grace had talked a great deal about her work at the ministry and the people she met there, and she thought I might be interested to meet her special friends.

"Don't get the idea," she said, "that we are doing very vital war work-involved in top secrets and such like. This is the Ministry of Labour and our work has a great deal to do with putting papers in alphabetical order and finding jobs best suited to the abilities of the people who are registered with us. Those who work with me are rather like myself-inexperienced. Some have never been out to work before and what we have to do is simply the sort that anyone could do.”

I said I thought she was being modest.

"No, no," she answered. "That is not so. You will see I am right when you meet my special colleagues. We all sit together at a table, sorting out our papers, making notes of information, watched over by our supervisor. The supervisor is, of course, a bona fide civil servant.”

I realized what she meant when I met the girls. They often lunched together in a Lyons or A.B.C. teashop. There were four of them including Mary Grace. She was what was called a "part-timer" on account of certain responsibilities concerning her mother. The others worked full-time-nine until five.

The Ministry was in Acton, not so very far from the center of town, and I was to meet them in the Lyons teashop at twelve-thirty.

No sooner had I entered the restaurant than Mary Grace rose to greet me. Seated with her were the three I was to meet. They all surveyed me with interest.

"Mrs. Marian Owen, Mrs. Peggy Dunn, and Miss Florette Fields," said Mary Grace with dignity. "And this is Miss Violetta Denver.”

"Oh, that's a classy name," said Miss Florette Fields. "I like that.

I was Flora but I changed it to Florette. Professional reasons, you understand?”

"Florette," I said. "That's charming.”

She flashed her rather toothy smile in my direction. There was something very friendly about her.

"We're ordering the Home Pie," said Mary Grace. "The ingredients may be a little mysterious, but it's tasty.”

Everybody laughed. I was to discover that they laughed easily and in this they reminded me of the soldiers in the theater.

"You are staying in London for a while then?" said Marian. She was different from the others and I realized that she was eager for me to know this.

"Yes," I told her. "I shall be going back to my parents' home at the end of the week.”

"Lucky you," said Florette.

They were all a little stiff at first but it was not long before conversation was flowing easily. We spoke mainly about the Ministry.

There was a Mrs. Crimp, who was called "Curly," and a Mr. Bunter, who was known as "Billy" for obvious reasons.

Mary Grace, I discovered, had a hitherto unsuspected gift for making people talk. I think she was very eager for her friends to reveal themselves and over Home Pie, which was indeed surprisingly tasty, and coffee, I glimpsed something of the backgrounds of Peggy and Florette, though Marian Owen was quite reticent.

Peggy and Florette were quite different and both had the gift of being able to laugh at themselves. Florette was a girl without guile or pretense. Within fifteen minutes of our acquaintance, I knew of her ambitions. She was going to be what she called a "star." Peggy admired her as someone she herself could never be. She listened avidly, watching her as she talked, with wondering eyes full of admiration.

"Florette won a competition once," Peggy told me. "Came first, didn't you, Florette?”

Florette smiled broadly.

"Tell Violetta about it," said Peggy. We were on Christian-name terms by that time.

"Well," said Florette. "There was this talent-spotting competition, wasn't there?”