Hot water! That reminded her that there was something other than drill to anticipate with pleasure. Today was her section’s turn to march right across the city to the bath house, where they would wallow in hot soapy water, dry themselves off on the somewhat inadequate issue towels, and then march back to camp, where she and Jane would decide what to do with the rest of the day. Tonight was Glenys’s last night on duty before she was due for what the officers called ‘a spot of leave’, a week for which she had not yet made plans.

She lay quiet for a few minutes, then leaned over and dug Jane in the back. ‘Wake up, it’s a lovely day,’ she hissed. ‘If we get up now we can be first at the cookhouse, then we can check our uniforms and so on and perhaps find a way of disguising our towels and soap and that for bath parade.’

Jane groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. The previous night had been a busy one for the girls on searchlights and Jane had been on the predictor, which meant she had had to track the target visually and pass the information on to the gunners. The other members of the section had not been idle, of course. Glenys was a spotter because she had done well on the aircraft recognition course; she had a good memory and found it easier than most of their team to pick out the identifying features of the planes making for the docks. She used this gift to good effect; already their team had accounted for several hits. Her worst fear, however, was that she might make a mistake and cause a friendly aircraft to be shot down . . .

‘What’s up?’ Jane’s sleepy voice cut across her musings. ‘Oh, hooray, bath parade! And I haven’t forgotten I said you can have a bit of the rose-scented soap that French flyer gave me at the last NAAFI dance if you can hack it off the bar.’ She chuckled. ‘Is that why you’re awake early?’

‘I’m awake early because you were snoring,’ Glenys said, pushing her blankets right down and getting out of bed. ‘And having woken, I’m going out to enjoy the sunshine. Come with me, there’s a dear.’

She half expected an indignant refusal but Jane, though she groaned, agreed, and after a very quick – and cold – wash in the half-empty ablutions hut they presently joined the queue for porridge and toast in the cookhouse and dipped their mugs into the enormous bucket of tea at the end of the line. ‘After the parade I thought we could catch a bus into the centre, get our shopping over early, and then see a flick, if there’s anything decent on,’ Glenys suggested as they settled themselves at a table for two. ‘Only don’t you go and fall asleep like you did in The Hunchback of Notre Dame because it’s dead embarrassing.’