‘Kate!’ he exclaimed, pretending to be shocked, but in truth enjoying her admission that she enjoyed their love-making as much as he did. He put his arm along the back of the seat and caressed her neck. The tingling sensation his touch caused made her swerve slightly.

‘I think you’d better stop that unless you want to end up in the ditch again,’ she said.

They laughed together.

Their love affair continued through the winter months of 1941. As its intensity grew, it was inevitable that they could not hide it from everyone. Though they tried to be circumspect in public, strove valiantly to be strictly CO and driver in front of others, there was the light of love in their eyes when they looked at each other, such a spring in their steps as they hurried to drive away from the camp to be alone for a few snatched moments, that soon, someone must notice and the tongues would start wagging.

At the Christmas dance in the Officers’ Mess, Philip came towards Kate and she went into his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They danced together the whole evening. He did not dance with any other girl – not even the senior WAAF officer there – and when he led Kate to a table, brought her a drink and sat down with her, all the other airmen and officers shrugged their shoulders and turned their thoughts away from even thinking of asking the CO’s beautiful driver for a dance.

But for some, the sight of Group Captain Philip Trent monopolizing the company of Corporal Kate Hilton was not so easily forgotten.

‘Kate – you’ll get yourself into bother.’ Mavis, with Isobel one pace behind as if to back her, was standing at the foot of her bed the following morning.

‘Eh?’ Kate glanced up from the letter she was writing home, and could see at once by their faces that they had guessed. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh yes, you do. You don’t usually tell lies, Kate Hilton.’

Kate felt herself colouring. No, she didn’t. She had always been a very truthful person, but this time it was not just herself she was trying to protect.

As if reading her thoughts, Isobel murmured, ‘You see, Mave, her trouble is that she’s not a tell-tale. I can vouch for that.’

‘And don’t say it’s none of our business . . .’ Mavis began, as they came and sat on her bed, one either side of her.

‘ . . . Because it is,’ finished Isobel.

‘You’d make a good double act,’ Kate said, trying to steer them off the topic. ‘Ever thought of applying to ENSA?’

‘It’s got to stop, Kate,’ Isobel said. ‘You’ll get into awful trouble – and so will he. He might lose his whole career and he’s a nice bloke.’

‘Too nice,’ Mavis said.

‘You’ve got it wrong. We’re just good friends . . .’