As Isobel moved across to her own bed, she murmured, so that only Kate could hear, ‘Have they got their rulers and scissors at the ready? Should we kneel down, do you think?’

Kate spluttered with laughter and Isobel gave her a rare, wide smile. Kate was still trying to stifle her giggles as the NCO and corporal entered the hut, but Isobel stood at the end of her bed, cool, calm and in complete control of her features.

‘Shut up, Kate,’ Mavis hissed. ‘You’ll get us all on a fizzer and then there’ll be no dance in the Officers’ Mess for any of us!’

She would never have believed it possible, Kate thought later, that she could have been laughing so uncontrollably over memories of St Mary’s School for Young Ladies! And with – of all people – Isobel Cartwright!

*

As the four of them entered the Mess the following evening, Mavis gasped. ‘It’s like Christmas!’

The large room had been decorated with trimmings and balloons and at one end, on a raised dais, seven officers were setting up their musical instruments.

Mavis nudged Kate. ‘Dave was telling me about them trying to get a band together. I say, he’s a bit of all right on the drums, isn’t he?’

‘Really, Mavis – what about Dave?’

Mavis smiled. ‘Oh, he’ll do for me all right, but I was thinking about you.’

‘Thanks very much – I can find me own fellers, ta!’

The newly formed band struck up, slightly hesitant at first, and then from the floor a young fair-haired Pilot Officer jumped up on to the dais and began to conduct. With more confidence, the players swung into ‘We’re going to hang out the washing . . .’ The room began to fill and soon couples were moving on to the area cleared as a dance-floor.

Soon the girls, outnumbered by the men, were never without a partner. Kate found herself dancing with a tall, dark-haired man who danced woodenly round the floor, not speaking and holding her almost at arm’s length. As they danced close to the dais, the fair-haired conductor jumped down and cut in. “Scuse me, mate . . .’ and Kate found herself looking up into his eyes as he took her hand and put his arm around her waist. ‘Hello, there. My name’s Sandy. What’s yours, pretty WAAF?’

‘K-Kate,’ she gasped from surprise and now breathlessness too, for they were jigging round the floor at twice the speed of her previous pedestrian partner. ‘What – what about the band?’

‘Oh, they’ll survive ten minutes without going to pieces completely.’

‘Are you their conductor?’

‘Not officially. I’ve done a bit in my time and I could see they needed a hand.’ He grinned as he added, ‘Literally!’

Kate laughed and shook back her hair which tonight she had left long.

‘Has anyone ever told you you’ve got the most beautiful hair?’ Sandy said.