‘You look lonely,’ she shouted over the din. ‘You’re not from round here, are you?’ Her Suffolk inflections reminded him of Kath. Must be one of the girls they bussed in from nearby villages for these affairs.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m from Tunbridge Wells.’

One eyebrow raised in a sceptical arc. ‘Pull the other one, fella.’

‘Honestly,’ he said. ‘I’m half English, half Indian.’

‘I’ve never met anyone even partly Indian.’

‘We’re perfectly harmless, as you see. Don’t bite, or whisper evil spells.’

She laughed. ‘Would you like to dance?’ How bold girls were becoming, these days. Must be the war. He rather liked it, this turning of the tables.

‘Not really,’ he said.

‘You don’t have to know any steps.’

Too drunk to resist, he allowed her to take his hand and lead him into the melee. They danced – or rather, he moved his feet around and after a while, cautiously, his arms – until he was quite out of breath.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ he said, pulling out a handkerchief to mop his brow.

‘That’d be nice,’ she said. ‘My name’s Carol. What’s yours?’

‘Vic.’

‘Short for Victor?’

‘Short for Vikram.’

‘That’s more like it,’ she said, threading her arm through his. ‘Now, where’s the bar?’

Just as they were crossing the tarmac the boom of music from the hangar stopped for a second, and in the unaccustomed silence they heard a giggle, then another.

‘Someone’s having fun,’ Carol said. ‘C’mon, I’m dying for a drink.’

Peering into the darkness, Vic could just about make out two figures in the shadows, at the corner of the building. Another giggle. A male voice, American: ‘You’re a sweet kid, d’ya know that? D’ya wanna see my Thunderbolt?’

The girl spoke, and his heart seemed to stop beating. Even though he couldn’t hear the words, it sounded just like Kath’s voice.

‘Gimme another kiss, and I’ll show ya.’ The man gathered the girl into his arms again, smooching her so intimately, so intensely, that it made Vic’s stomach turn upside down. The kiss seemed to go on forever. She didn’t seem to be resisting; in fact, she seemed to be enjoying it.

‘Ooh, you are naughty,’ the girl said, with a giggle that sealed his certainty. It was Kath. What on earth was she doing here? The answer was perfectly plain.

He felt Carol’s hand trying to take his, pulling him along. ‘You coming, or what?’

But his feet were rooted to the ground, watching helplessly as the couple pulled apart from their clinch and disappeared behind the building. His head was spinning, he felt nauseous and desperate to lie down.

‘Sorry, I’m not feeling very well,’ he shouted to Carol and turned away, stumbling in the direction of his barracks. Once there, he dragged himself along the corridor to the bathroom, where he was violently sick. Back in his bunk he succumbed to misery, silently weeping for the girl he’d missed so much, on whom he’d pinned such ridiculous hopes.