LITMIR.BIZ

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storeroom last week may well be a VIP’s office now. At last count there were twelve companies in ENSA but there may well be more as the need grows, and the managerial staff from each one will have to come here for general meetings. So, be thoughtful. I know you’ll give it your best and in a few days we’ll be completely at home again.’

      Sally, who had managed to get home for a few hours to put her mother’s mind at rest, was aware that it was a while since she had spent any time with her oldest friends and she missed their closeness. Rose Petrie was still hard at work in the Vickers munitions factory and Grace, according to Mrs Petrie, was working on a farm somewhere in the wilds of Scotland. But the most amazing and exciting news of all was that Daisy – little Daisy, who was always thought to be delicate – had been learning to fly an aeroplane and had actually joined the WAAF. Would any or all be home for Christmas? Would she, or was Christmas without family a very small sacrifice that she would be asked to make?

      How strange. A picture of a sailor had come unbidden into her mind. Thousands of sailors, soldiers, airmen, nurses – indeed, everyone involved in this blasted war – would probably not be going home for Christmas.

       They’re all in great danger every minute of the day and night and they get on with the job. Grow up, Sally, you’re in no danger, not every day, anyway. I’ll think of them wherever they are: the Petrie brothers, Daisy, the chap who’s teaching her to fly – and … Jon, Just Jon.

      Sally did mean to be brave, but during a morning break she found herself asking Sebastian if they might be given a day off during what she had used to call the Christmas holidays.

      ‘A day off? Sally, you’re not serious. “You’re in the army now”,’ he sang.

      Sally, her heart still somewhere in the pit of her stomach, looked up at him and, for once, did not find herself thinking how very beautiful he was, perhaps too beautiful. ‘Does that mean we don’t celebrate Christmas?’

      ‘Have one of these biscuits; Grandmamma sent them and I swear there’s an egg and a teaspoon of sugar in them somewhere.’

      Sally took one of the drab-looking biscuits and dunked it in her tea. ‘Are you ever serious?’

      ‘Of course. When I tell you you’re practically perfect, I’m serious.’

      Sally pretended to believe him. ‘And what do I need to be absolutely perfect?’

      He smiled but Sally thought that it was not his usual smile but one with a tinge of sadness. Why should joking with a chum make him sad?

      ‘I wouldn’t expect you to love me as I love you, Sally Brewer, champion fairy guard of the Tiny Tots dance troupe, but if you could love me a little …?’

      ‘But I …’ Sally had been about to say, ‘But I do love you, Sebastian,’ when some instinct stopped her. She did love him, of course she did. When close to him or even when apart, she felt somehow different; something in her had changed. How could she not love someone who was kind and gentle, unfailingly patient and polite and amazingly handsome? Again, the image of the man in naval uniform flashed across her mind but melted away as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her somehow frustrated. What is this? He stays in my head like a tune that keeps repeating.

      She forced herself to ignore Just Jon. ‘You’re being silly, Sebastian, and haven’t answered my question.’

      ‘Very well, mon ange, we will acknowledge the advent of Christmas this year but leave is, I believe, totally out of the question. I hear – and should not be telling you so “Mum’s the word” – that we are taking Christmas joy to some casualties of this blasted war. Now, control yourself when I tell you that you are going to be the Christmas fairy dispensing little gifts to children – yes, I know, someone should tell the War Office that children do get hurt when bombs are dropped on their homes – and after what passes for cake and fruit juice, I will, in my Prince Charming satin suit and buckled shoes, waltz you out of Children’s to Maternity – don’t groan, darling, it’s Christmas – and after that we’re doing a slightly naughty little play in Men’s Casualty; Spiced Shakespeare, I think they’re calling it.’

      ‘Just the two of us?’

      ‘Of course.’

      He saw her expression of abject dismay and took pity on her. ‘No, silly, everyone in our group will be there and, with luck, a few more seasoned performers will join us. It’s for our war wounded and I know they’d prefer George Formby, but quite a few of them will feel much better after a discreet glimpse of your lovely legs.’

      Her heart beating with excitement, Sally smiled. At last she had a starring role – as a fairy – but at least she was the only fairy. She decided that it would be quite fun to dance with Prince Sebastian along the hospital corridors. What she would be required to say in a spiced-up version of something from the huge canon of the Swan of Avon, she shuddered to think, but it was in a good cause.

      ‘I’m actually going to be billed as a member of an ENSA troupe, Sebastian?’

      ‘You are indeed. Eventually we will all have uniforms, just like the other Services.’

      ‘Uniforms? For actors and singers, comedians and hoofers?’

      ‘For ENSA and, unlike the other services, we automatically become officers.’

      ‘Officers? I rather like the sound of that.’

      ‘It simply means you can use NAAFI canteens. Now to work.’

      Sally was no Vera Lynn but she created what the director termed ‘a pleasant sound’ and as a result of concentrated professional teaching she was improving in every way. Besides, she was pretty, taking her loveliness for granted so that few of her female colleagues resented her. She knew that she had a great deal to learn and was determined to improve, and the more established performers basked in her admiration.

      Having little knowledge of children, her ability to play the ‘good’ fairy worried her, but the young patients recognised her genuine kindness and they loved her appearance.

      ‘You’re a perfect Christmas fairy, Sally,’ Sebastian congratulated her as they left the children’s ward. ‘All the little girls want to look just like you when they grow up, and, Deo volente, they will grow up. Now glide with me down the corridor on fairy gossamer wings and we’ll enchant all the new mothers.’

      Sally climbed into bed that night with her hot-water bottle and her writing case, put her cold feet on the not-quite-hot-enough bottle and wrote first to Daisy, both to congratulate her on her exciting life and also to ask her all about the mystery flying teacher, and then to her parents.

      She had been told that she would be allowed to go to Dartford for at least a few hours over the holidays, but she wanted her parents to know about her first ENSA performance as quickly as possible.

      My frock was every little girl’s dream, and I had a ‘diamond’ crown made of silver paper we’d been collecting for weeks. Don’t worry, every piece has been straightened out and will be delivered to the collection points after Christmas. Sebastian and I danced – he did look perfect as Prince Charming – and all the new mothers in Maternity loved him. He is a dear, walked round the ward and kissed every patient and at least two of the nurses. Then we did a bit from The Taming of the Shrew. Max spiced it up a bit although I remember it quite well from school and I didn’t think it needed spicing; don’t worry, Mum, I was the sister and really all I had to do was look pretty. But I have a credit in a Shakespeare play to put on my CV. Yippee.

      Sebastian took me to an actors’ club for lunch and I had a glass of champagne – very sophisticated.

      See you soon, I hope, but ENSA is part of the Forces and we have to obey orders. Give my love to everyone.

      Sally

      On Christmas Day, the company visited a convalescent home in what had been, just a few months before, a stately home. She was to remember the luxury of the house with grateful nostalgia many times

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