We'll meet again

I was still a little bewildered. I could not understand why she had contrived this meeting, yet I was sure it was not without some purpose.

Richard did not go overseas immediately but was posted down to the coast before I could tell him that his wife had been to see me.

I could not tell Dorabella or my parents that I had met Richard's wife because I did not know whether he wished his marriage to remain a secret, and I felt it was not for me to divulge it.

I tried to put the thought of that meeting from my mind. It was not easy. There was something about Lady Anne which repelled me, something a little sinister. But still, I laughed at myself. I was building up some drama.

Life slipped back to normal. There were the same jokes, the same lunches at the teashop, but now, whenever I entered the place, I thought of that cool slender figure in gray.

We had the additional menace of the Flying Bombs which were coming over in large numbers. Many of them were disabled at the coast, which was not much use, as the damaged objects just went on their way, dropped, and the bombs exploded anyway, so they were as lethal as the sound ones.

They were just an added trial. People said their unmistakable "hum-hum" as they went along meant "you, you," because, if you heard the noise, you were in danger and the thing might be intended for you.

But the cheerful mood held. The Flying Bombs could not affect the people's morale while there were successes on the Continent. But the tragedy was to continue.

I remember the day well. Indeed, it was one which I shall never forget. June had passed and it was a sultry July afternoon. We sat at our tables working, now and then gossiping in quiet voices, for while Billy Bunter knew it was impossible to stop the whispers he did not want our voices to become too audible.

Florette was very happy that afternoon. A week before she had met a young man who was "in the business"; he was a conjurer and had appeared in Blackpool for a few weeks-not exactly top of the bill, but at least halfway down. He was working on munitions because he was not quite fit for the army; but he had great hopes for the future.

So she had found a soul mate with whom she could share her dreams and learn a great deal about theatrical rules.

Peggy was looking forward to Florette's future as such as she could never have for herself, and, with a guilt-free Marian and Mary Grace her usual steady self, fitting in with everyone's mood, that began as a very happy afternoon.

Terry Travers, the conjurer, had given Florette some cuttings about his show in Blackpool; she had stuck them in her book and brought it along to show us. There was no room for it on the table, so she had left it in the cloakroom.

Halfway through the afternoon the sirens wailed forth their warning.

As usual, no one took much notice of this. Then suddenly a shrill whistle was heard throughout the building. It was the "imminent.”

That meant that whatever was coming our way was very close indeed.

We stood up, and, as we did so, we saw the object come into view.

I had never before seen a Flying Bomb at such close quarters. It was almost on a level with the window and moved in a lopsided way which indicated that it had been damaged.

We stared in horror. It was too late to take cover now. The thing was upon us.

Florette cried: "I've left my cuttings book in the cloakroom," which would have made us laugh because she could think of such a thing at a moment when death was staring us in the face. But this was no laughing matter.

"You, you," said the thing very loudly. We scrambled under the table.

Any moment now it would drop and that would be the end of us and everyone in the building. I was aware of Mary Grace beside me. She gripped my hand. I started to think of the past: the miniatures she had painted of Dorabella and me, the day I had given mine to Dorabella, the time when we had thought my sister was drowned waiting for news of Jowan after Dunkirk.

Time slowed down. There was no sound in the room except that of the relentless engine which could stop at any second... and that would be the end.

"You, you." It was slightly fainter. Billy Bunter was standing up.

He cried: "It's gone past, but keep under cover.”

He himself did not. He went to the window.

Florette said: "I'm going to get my book. I thought I'd lose it. I shall always keep it with me now.”

"Wait!" I said, but she was off.

Then Billy Bunter, who was at the window, called out: "Hey, I do believe ... Good God! It's coming back!”

There was silence.

"You, you, you." It was louder.

Billy was right. The thing had turned and was limping its way back, which meant it was immediately outside the building.

"Get under cover!" shouted Billy, and we darted once more for the tables. Slowly, deliberately, the sound was increasing; the damaged bomb was coming our way.

Nearer, nearer and then ... the dreaded silence.