Home Front Girls

felt inadequate and dull in her company. She wished that things could have been different.
     
    ‘That’s it then!’ Annabelle threw her last pair of nylon stockings down in a temper. ‘They’re laddered too! What am I going to wear?’
    ‘Woollen ones like the rest of us,’ her mother answered drily from the settee where she was darning a pair of her own stockings.
    ‘Oh, I’m so sick of this having to make do and mend,’ Annabelle complained bitterly. ‘I’ll be damned glad when this rotten war is over. Nothing is any fun any more. It’s just work and bed!’
    ‘I dare say your father and our boys at the front are saying the very same thing,’ her mother said acidly. ‘And I dare say they have a lot more to worry about than we do. Like staying alive for a start-off.’
    Annabelle had the good grace to flush. Put that way, she supposed that having to do without nylon stockings was petty, but she still hated the fact that they were no longer readily available.
    ‘Lucy was saying that Mrs P has been unravelling all her family’s old jumpers and cardigans and then reusing the wool to knit larger ones for them,’ she commented.
    ‘A lot of people are doing that,’ Miranda said. ‘Most of the new wool is being used to make uniforms for the forces now. But what are you getting dressed up for? Are you going out?’
    ‘Yes. I thought I’d go and see Dotty for an hour or two,’ Annabelle sighed. ‘There’s not much else to do, is there? And it’s no good going to see Lucy. She still disappears every Sunday afternoon and we have no idea where she goes.’ She stared musingly off into space for a moment before asking, ‘Do you think she’s going to meet a boyfriend?’
    ‘I shouldn’t think so. Not after the way you told me she reacted to that young man at the dance. Perhaps she’s going to visit a relative?’
    ‘No, she isn’t. She told me and Dotty that since losing her parents she only has Mary and Joel.’ Annabelle frowned as she thought of Joel. It seemed such a long time since she had seen him and sometimes now it was hard to picture his face.
    ‘I expect Dotty will be mooning over Robert again when I get there,’ she said next. ‘Between you and me, I think she’s rather smitten with him – although she won’t admit it.’
    Miranda had grown very fond of Lucy and Dotty in the previous months and she grinned. ‘Well, he’s certainly pushing the boat out to help her. Didn’t you say that he’d forwarded Dotty’s novel to an editor friend of his?’
    ‘Yes, he has, but she hasn’t heard what the editor thinks of it yet. She’s almost finished it now. Always typing away, she is.’ Annabelle pulled a face. ‘Apart from at work and on the night we do the first aid course at the Red Cross I hardly get to see her now, although I have persuaded her to come and see a film at the Rex in a couple of weeks’ time.’
    Miranda hid a smile. All three girls had regularly attended the first aid classes, but it was Annabelle who seemed to be getting the most out of it – which had come as a complete surprise to her mother, for Annabelle rarely took an interest in anything other than her appearance.
    ‘Well, if you must go out, just try and be back in before it gets dark,’ her mother advised, and with a nod Annabelle hurried away to finish getting ready. It was when she came back downstairs that Miranda suddenly told her, ‘By the way, there’s a letter that came for you yesterday. I’m so sorry, darling, but I’d forgotten all about it. You’ll find it on the dresser in the kitchen.’
    Annabelle’s heart began to thump. Could it be from Joel? Closing the kitchen door after her, she snatched up the letter and instantly saw from the postmarks that it was. Tearing it open with fingers that were suddenly trembling, she began to read, and as she did so her eyes filled with tears.
     
Dear Belle,
     
Sorry I haven’t been able to write for a while. Things are pretty grim out here as you might imagine. I sometimes wonder if we’ll ever come home. (The next two lines had been censored but then it continued.) One of the chaps I’m serving with became a father last month and he still hasn’t seen his new baby yet. It’s so sad. But then I suppose I shouldn’t complain. At least we are still alive, which is a lot more than can be said of some of the chaps I came out here with. I have seen things that I don’t think I shall ever be able to forget. I miss Mary and Lucy more than