The door was ajar giving Polly a glimpse of Jemima sat in front of a shaving mirror painting her face, a cigarette burning to stub on the table top. Their young comrade was wearing a beautiful lace trimmed red silk camisole, french knickers set, her long legs folded to one side and encased in black silk stockings. Polly watched her for several minutes as she carefully applied kohl to her eyelids, delicately tracing their outline with the pencil oblivious to anything else. Polly pulled herself away from the doorway resolving to have words with Missy in the morning.
Anthea did her best to take Polly’s words (and Mal’s reassurance) to heart making an effort to mix more freely with the women pilots. Still Anthea had managed so far to always keep Verity Bliss at a distance fearful that she might make the connection between with the young pilot in her late brother’s squadron. Nothing however lasts forever and before very long Anthea found herself cornered with no way to leave the mess without attracting attention as Verity bore down on her.
‘Anthea’ she said in the breathy voice Anthony had once found so entrancing ‘can we talk… somewhere quiet?’ Anthea nodded and fearing the worst allowed herself to be guided outside.
The air was chill; thankfully as it explained away her shivering, but she was sure her galloping heartbeat could be heard from yards away. Verity led her into an alcove in the outer wall then squeezing in beside her.
Verity had been considered a society beauty and probably still was now in her late twenties. Taller than most women she had a certain grace that allowed her to carry off the extra height with an air of not really caring, an impression heightened by wearing minimal make up. With bright blond hair however, a complexion to match and piercing blue eyes she hardly needed any.
‘I need your help’ Verity whispered. Anthea held her breath. ‘You’re quite close to Mal aren’t you?’ Verity continued.
Anthea nodded wondering where this was leading ‘We play chess’ she said. Verity paused as if taking a deep breath.
‘It’s like this’ she said ‘before the war…’ Anthea’s heart sank ‘…I was mixed up in this crowd; sort of on the edges really… we went to Germany…’ In short bursts Verity told her how she had rubbed shoulders with some of the Nazi elite, not the most famous figures but leading Party members nonetheless. By the time Verity had finished the words were almost spilling out, her cheeks flushed and her voice even more breathy than Anthea remembered.
Anthea considered what to say while Verity looked at her with an almost pleading expression, wide eyed, nervous. ‘I’m sure if Mal was worried he’d have said something already’ she said slowly ‘he’s pretty switched on so he probably knows everything. I can have a word if you like?’
‘Oh thank you’ Verity said catching her in a hug, their cheeks brushing very briefly together. Verity pushed herself back while still holding Anthea’s shoulders. ‘Your skin is very smooth, no beard’ she said stepping back.
‘Electrolysis, not the best week of my life’ Anthea laughed. Verity gave her an appraising look.
‘Smashing legs too’ she said ‘doesn’t it bother you, dressing up like this?’
‘Not really’ Anthea said ‘just a change of uniform really, it’s hard to explain’
‘Say something to me in your man’s voice’
‘I can’t’ Anthea said, Verity was the last person she wanted to hear that ‘it’s part of the training we have to keep… ummm… in character or… well it’s like breaking the spell. Does that sound mad?’
‘A little’ Verity said ‘but you’re a man it must feel strange to give that up…’ she left off quietly fearing that she had gone too far.
‘Oh I gave that up when I decided to ride a motorcycle in the mess’ Anthea said.
