Grace told her about gardening and their experience with cutworms, which made Viv laugh. She told Viv about Mrs. Weatherford and Colin and Jimmy, which made Viv cry, and she told her about the ARP warden position and working with Mr. Stokes. Grace omitted, however, the dangers of the job and the horrible sights she’d witnessed.

Not that it mattered when Viv knew her so well. After she’d finished sharing how things had gone on in London, Viv approached and gently touched the wristlet on Grace’s arm. “It’s worse here than I thought,” she said softly. “You can try to mask it, but I know what the ARP wardens do. I know your job has great dangers.”

“We all do our bit,” Grace said, not wishing to delve into such matters on so happy an occasion as finally seeing her friend safely returned. “What of you? Everything you try to say gets blotted out by censors, so I’m left to supply my own details.”

Viv’s smile returned. “Oh? Then pray tell what it is I do in the war.”

“You’re a spy,” Grace said. “You went to France and rescued several boats full of men during Dunkirk, then flew over to Germany in a mink stole to personally pry the secrets from Hitler himself. You did such a fine job of it, we have all the intelligence we need and the war will soon be over.”

Viv laughed. “Oh, if only that were the case. I’ve actually been working as a radar operator, if you’d believe it.” She folded a pink cardigan and tucked it into a drawer. “As it turns out, I’m better at maths than I realized.”

“I’m not surprised,” Grace said earnestly. Her friend had always underestimated her own intelligence. “How is it working with radars?”

Viv sat back on her heels in front of the chest of drawers. “It’s exciting, but it’s also sad. We see the men off as they go to Germany to bomb. Some of the women are married to the men who fly out.” Her mouth twisted as she appeared to bite the inside of her lip.

A lot went unspoken in this war. Far too much was easily assumed in the silence.

Grace had seen enough German planes shot down to know that whatever Britain gave to the Nazi bombers, they received right back. Not all of those men came home.

“The dance halls have been divine though.” Viv got to her feet and pulled a bottle of red nail lacquer from her bedside table drawer where she’d left it before departing for the ATS. “The men there practically line up to dance the night away and dawn arrives before you know it.”