“Yeah, how was the piano man? Still got the girl at home?” Viv said.
“Joe was very chivalrous and as handsome as ever,” Dottie said, the color returning to her cheeks at the sound of his name. “I can still smell his Old Spice from when he carried me, which is driving me crazy. And he stayed with me for as long as he could. But yes, he’s still got Mary Jane. I asked him when he tried to hold my hand and kiss me on the cheek. He was almost apologetic about it, but again no mention of breaking it off with her, so I have to tell you, I was in such a bad mood from the day, and my arm was hurting so much, I just let him have it.”
“Really?” I said. “What did you say?”
“Oh, I wish we had been there,” Viv said. “Tell us.”
“I said what kind of guy has a girl at home that he’s supposedly in love with, while trying to kiss another one over here? And what kind of girl does he think I am? I told him I liked him, but I deserve better, and that we could still be friends, but absolutely nothing more unless he breaks it off with Mary Jane.”
“Of course you deserve better,” I said.
“Good for you, Dots. So how’d you leave it?” Viv asked.
“He apologized,” Dottie said, with a sad smile. “Multiple times. He said he was confused, that he had feelings for me, and he hadn’t expected that to happen. He said part of him just wants to live for the moment because, after all, we’re living in the war, but he agreed, I deserve better. And he needed to figure things out.”
“Figure things out how?” I asked.
A knock at the front door interrupted our conversation, and I could hear Martha’s voice from the other side. Mrs. Tibbetts hurried over to let our friends in. “We heard you gals had a rough day and came over with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers and a chocolate cake that one of the mess hall cooks baked us,” Martha said, handing Dottie the flowers.
“And some of our liquor rations to cheer you up,” Blanche said, smiling as she took two bottles of wine out of a paper bag.
“I’ll fetch us some cups,” Mrs. Tibbetts said, clapping her hands together, happy for our small party.
“Only a half glass for me,” I said. “I’ve got a date with six men and a cement mixer.”
“What?” Blanche said, pouring glasses as quickly as Mrs. Tibbetts handed them to her. “You’re kidding? Liz can’t find someone else?”
“I’m sure she could, but after today, we’ve got to do all we can to stay on her good side,” I said. We filled our friends in on our disastrous observation day, and after some cake and wine, we were feeling a bit less glum about it all.
“And then at the end of the day, when we had no mop, nothing to clean up that absolutely nasty pond of coffee, flour, and grease, Norman felt so guilty. So he went and grabbed a brace and bit, and we actually had him drill holes in the floor of the Clubmobile to drain it,” I said, shaking my head laughing.
“We had to—nothing else was going to get rid of it completely,” Viv said.
“And we’ve got holes in the floor now?” Dottie asked, cringing.
“We do, but it worked,” I said. “We’ll have to get a little rug or something to hide them next time Miss Chambers comes around.”
“We might have to try that. We had a huge spill the other day and it was nasty,” Frankie said, reaching for a second piece of chocolate cake.
“Hey, so Miss Chambers isn’t sending you gals to France, is she?” Viv asked.
The room got quiet, and Frankie, Blanche, and Martha all looked at each other.
“You’re going, aren’t you?” I said, the ache in my stomach returning. Our friends were leaving us behind. Viv swore softly as she lit another cigarette. Dottie was on the verge of tears.
“We are going,” Martha said quietly, putting an arm around Dottie. “And I’m so sorry you girls aren’t coming with us. I’m sure we’ll reunite soon.”
“When do you leave?” I asked.
“We head to London in a few days to regroup, and then we go to Southampton from there,” Martha said.
“We will definitely reunite soon,” Frankie said, nodding. “One of the things that helped our cause is that Martha and I are both great drivers.”
“Uh, no,” Blanche said. “Martha is a fantastic driver. Frankie, you drive like a crazy person.”
“I prefer the term fearless,” Frankie said, giving Blanche a fake scowl.
“Uh-huh,” Blanche said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you have to make the next group, you just have to. But who’s going to drive? No offense, but I’ve seen you all in action, and you couldn’t be worse.”
“Only driver here is me,” Jimmy said, pointing to himself as he walked in from the front hallway.
“Oh, Jimmy, I didn’t even hear you knock.” Mrs. Tibbetts came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a bright-blue tea towel. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of him.
He stumbled into the sofa and nearly fell on Dottie. And he stank of whiskey.
“Jimmy, any chance you’ve been at the pub?” I said, frowning.
“There’s a chicken,” Jimmy said, ignoring my question and pointing to the bird we had named Speckles, who was sleeping in the corner of the room. “What’s a bloody chicken doing in ’ere?” His words slurred together.
“Swell,” I said, rubbing my hands over my face. “Jimmy, you’re supposed to be driving me to this cement mixer crew. Did you pick up the supplies? Did Liz see you like this?”
“Picked ’em up. Wasn’t no sign of Miss Liz,” Jimmy said with a shrug. “And I’m fine. Just had me some strong tea—I’m good.” He patted his chest.
“I think tonight might be the night for a driving lesson for Fiona,” Frankie said, giving me a pointed look.
“In the pitch black with only cat-eye lights?” I said, cracking my knuckles.
“Frankie’s right,” Viv said, eyeing Jimmy warily as he tried to stay upright. “Take your flashlight, and have Jimmy give you the directions, if he can remember them.” She stood up and whispered in my ear. “It’s safer with you at the wheel, don’t you think?”
We both looked at Jimmy, swaying next to the sofa.
“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Time for my driving lesson, Jimmy. Let’s go.”
The temperature had dropped at least thirty degrees since the afternoon, a sign that fall was on its way. The rain clouds had cleared, and the lack of artificial light anywhere revealed a brilliant star-filled sky and a nearly full moon. Despite the cool night air, I was sweating as I drove down the country roads with Jimmy as my questionable teacher and navigator. I gripped the steering wheel so hard, my hands hurt as I tried to remember everything I had learned in London.
My mood was still low, but if nothing else, driving offered me a distraction. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than not getting the two of us killed.
“How am I doing, Jimmy?” I asked, making sure he was still awake next to me.
“Goin’ a bit slow, but you’re all right,” he said. “Just a few more miles ’til the turn.”
He seemed to be sobering up. Mrs. Tibbetts had given him another strong cup of tea on our way out the door.
“You’re stuck with us for a while longer, you know,” I said. “We found out today we’re not going to the Continent yet.”
“Don’t mind at all. Like you loads better than the last crew I drove. Your lot are more fun,” he said. I looked over, and he was smiling. “More up for a laugh.”
“Really?” I said. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Thanks.”
“Really. Dottie reminds me of me own daughter—small and dark like she was, loved music,” he said quietly. “I loved listenin’ to her play the guitar.”
“Jimmy, you didn’t tell us you have a daughter,” I said.
He didn’t say anything for a few moments. I glanced over at him, and he was staring into the darkness.
“Had a daughter named Anne,” he said. “And a wife, me Shirley. Lost ’em both in the Blitz in September of ’40.”
For a few seconds, I was speechless, stunned by this fact about our driver, whom I realized I didn’t know that well at all.
“Jimmy, I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling physically ill. “I had no idea . . .”
“Don’t talk much about it,” he said, his voice sounding thick. “Ain’t much to say. I was comin’ home from work, missed the blast. Finally got there; there was nothing left. Me darlin’ girls were gone. Whole city was on fire. Don’t know how I survived it really.” He paused before adding, “Sometimes wish I hadn’t.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, swallowing hard. I reached across to squeeze his hand, unable to wipe the tear running down my face. “So incredibly sorry.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, glancing over at me in the dark, squeezing my hand back. “I know you’ve got troubles of your own. I hope you find him.” He looked up and added, “Oh blimey, here’s the turn.” He pointed to a road with no sign that I had nearly missed.