Jane agreed to this, and presently they reached Ranelagh Street and dived into Lewis’s. Used, by now, to empty shelves and a scarcity of goods for sale, they still found it thrilling to be in a big store, and by the time they had visited every department and actually come upon a tiny amount of makeup for sale, they felt that they had had a really exciting day out. Glenys bought a lipstick and a pale brown eyebrow pencil which, though it did not go perfectly with her ash blonde hair, was better than a darker shade would have been. Jane, blessed with very dark and gleaming curls, bought rouge and a tiny pot of eye shadow. ‘Though when we’ll get the opportunity to flash our new makeup, heaven alone knows,’ she said rather ruefully. ‘What’s the point of getting all dolled up for a NAAFI dance? And now, dear Glenys, I must be off or I’ll miss the beginning of the film.’ She sighed dramatically and cast her eyes heavenwards. ‘Imagine missing even a minute of Laurence Olivier or Joan Fontaine. Meet you outside the Corner House at six. Not that you’ll be in any hurry to leave the bright lights since you’ve got a week’s leave coming up, you lucky thing you.’ She hesitated outside the cinema of her choice and faced her friend. ‘Look, I wouldn’t dream of interfering, you know that, but I do think you ought to go back to the farm now that you haven’t got the excuse of being too far north to make it there and back in your time off.’

Glenys felt the blood creep up her neck and flame in her cheeks. ‘I can’t go back yet,’ she said. ‘I left because I got too fond of someone and I knew he wasn’t fond of me. Oh, we were friends all right, but nothing more. Now you get off and swoon over Laurence Olivier whilst I go down to the docks for a good look at the shipping.’

Jane did not need telling twice. They were on London Road and already a short queue was forming outside the cinema. She did turn and give Glenys a quick wave, however, and Glenys shouted: ‘Lyons Corner House, six o’clock. Shall I order for you if I’m first?’

‘Might as well; sausage and chips and a penny bun for pudding,’ Jane bawled. ‘Be good, and if you can’t be good . . .’

‘. . . be careful, and if you can’t be careful buy a pram,’ Glenys finished for her. Then she saluted an imaginary officer, clicked her heels the way the Jerries were supposed to do, and headed for the docks.

As she went she told herself, not for the first time, that she really ought to go back to the farm. Despite Jane’s urging she had never given them her address, but she had said that the ATS girls were always being posted to different parts of the country and if she ever got near enough to Weathercock Farm she would definitely come and see them.