Beauty Chorus, The (15 page)

‘See you soon, Daddy.’

Leo watched her disappear into the crowd heading towards Aldwych. Instead of going through the door to the Ministry, he stepped out into the road and hailed a cab. As they set off across town he
settled back in his seat, his face set grimly.

A couple of hours later, Evie hobbled up Regent Street towards Austin Reed, her arms full of parcels.
Almost there
, she thought. As she leant against a red telephone
box, she winced.

‘Damn new shoes,’ she muttered. The stiff patent leather had rubbed a blister on her heel.

‘I say, Evie isn’t it?’ someone called. Evie turned to find Olivia walking towards her. She was immaculately dressed in a powder blue tailored coat and a hat with an elegant
white feather that trembled against her cheek as she spoke.

Evie caught her breath and brushed aside a strand of hair that had stuck to her face. ‘Olivia? How lovely to see you again.’

‘Shopping?’

‘I was just about to collect our uniforms,’ she said proudly.

‘Yes, I was hoping I might bump into you. When I spoke to Joy this morning she mentioned you were coming up to the tailors.’ Olivia rummaged in her bag and pulled out a lace
handkerchief. ‘I couldn’t bear to be in uniform myself, so …’ She waved her hand vaguely. ‘Masculine.’

What’s this about?
Evie thought.
Why has she been talking to Joy about me?
She had the uneasy feeling Olivia had been hanging around Austin Reed all morning waiting for her
to turn up. ‘What are you doing for the war effort Olivia?’

‘Oh, gosh, lots. Listen, I was just about to take some tea. Would you care to join me?’

Evie glanced at her watch. ‘I only have …’

Olivia tutted, and took her arm. ‘There’s plenty of time for you to pick up your uniforms and get back to Maidenhead. I have to pop into Liberty for a few things, why don’t we
have a cup of tea there?’ She steered Evie towards the store. For someone who seemed so languid and ethereal Olivia had surprising strength.

The girls settled at a window seat and a waitress in a starched white apron came to take their order.

‘Darjeeling please,’ Evie said as she slipped off her heavy coat. Her blouse was sticking uncomfortably to her. She settled back on the plush chair and smiled, waiting for Olivia to
come out with whatever was so important. Only her ramrod straight back gave away how on edge she felt. Whenever she was under pressure her old headmistress’s words came back to her:
‘Deportment, girls. A nice straight, confident back can fool the world and hide a multitude of sins.’
Evie waited. ‘Gosh I feel like I’ve walked half of London this
morning. I get up to town so rarely these days, we’re very busy—’

‘Mmm,’ Olivia interrupted. She scanned the menu. ‘Let’s order some of those delicious little cakes they have here. My treat.’

‘And tea, madam?’ The waitress stood with her pencil poised.

Olivia glared at her. ‘Lemon and warm water for me. Not hot, warm,’ she said emphatically. She gazed after the girl as she retreated. ‘I don’t know where they get these
girls. I’ve been coming here with Mummy for yonks, but it’s like the whole country is going to pot at the moment.’

Evie watched her warily. ‘Well, this is nice. I haven’t had a chance to stop all morning.’

‘Do they work you hard, the ATA?’ Olivia asked suddenly.

‘Yes, it’s non-stop. Once we’re trained up we’ll be lucky to get a day off each fortnight from what I’ve been told.’

‘That’s interesting.’ Olivia pursed her lips as the waitress placed a cup of steaming water in front of her, the spoon rattling in the saucer. ‘Be careful!’ she
said tetchily.

‘Sorry, madam.’ The girl cautiously set a bowl of lemon slices beside the cup.

‘Thank you,’ Evie said as she took the pot of tea. A tier of elaborate little cream cakes was placed between them. ‘These do look good,’ she said as she helped herself to
a tiny scone. ‘What a treat.’ As she took a bite, she noticed Olivia was toying with her cake, breaking it into tiny pieces with her fork without eating a single morsel. ‘Do you
live in town?’

‘Yes, I have a pied-à-terre near here.’ Evie noticed that when Olivia spoke, her eyes rolled upwards occasionally. ‘Mummy and Daddy have a small estate in
Norfolk.’

‘Lucky you. What a beautiful place to grow up.’ Evie adjusted her vision of Olivia and Beau as children, imagined them boating on the Broads, or racing across the wide flat sands at
Holkham. ‘Your fiancé, Beau,’ she said awkwardly, ‘he mentioned that he spent his holidays with your family.’

‘Did he?’ Olivia’s eyes locked onto hers and she stopped fiddling with her cake. ‘Dear Alex.’ She laughed, a tinkling coquettish sound. She glanced at the table
next to them, where two soldiers sat talking quietly. One of the men looked over and smiled. Olivia stabbed at her cream cake, showering choux pastry as she leant towards Evie. ‘I do wish
they would stop gawping at us, don’t you? It’s so tiresome.’

Evie looked at them. ‘They’re harmless enough.’ She tried to guess Olivia’s age – eighteen, perhaps nineteen? Something about this impromptu tea party reminded Evie
of the family dinners where she ended up sitting at the children’s table entertaining her little cousins. ‘Why did you say it was interesting we work so hard?’

‘Hm?’ Olivia waved the steam from her cup as she sipped elegantly at her water. Her eyes flickered. ‘It’s Alex … or Beau as you all call him.’

‘Actually I call him sir.’

‘Do you? How amusing.’ When she laughed, Evie thought of the peal of tiny bells. ‘He’s been saying he can’t possibly come and see me, he’s working round the
clock. I thought he was giving me the brush off.’ She paused. ‘Or that he was seeing someone else.’

So that’s what this is about
, Evie thought. ‘I hardly know him …’ she said, and set down her cup of tea.

‘Oh! No!’ Olivia laughed, her tinkling little laugh grating on Evie’s nerves now. ‘You? Not you, my dear. You’re not his type at all.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Please don’t be offended.’ Olivia patted her hand chummily. ‘I just meant Alex prefers—’

‘Someone like you?’

Two bright spots of colour rose in Olivia’s cheeks. ‘We grew up together, Alex and I. Of course he’s a lot older than me. He was more like an elder brother at first.’ Her
eyes flickered. ‘I’ve been such a fool. His parents adore me.’ She tossed her hair. ‘I just can’t bear the thought of losing him. We are meant to be together. I will
be the Countess von Loewe. It’s my destiny. Alex will come back to me.’

‘Really?’ Evie extricated her hand. ‘I heard you ran out on him.’

Olivia glared at her. ‘Did Alex say that? That’s nonsense. I was scared, that was all. I didn’t think I could cope.’ She brushed the petals of the flowers on the table.
‘Even if he wasn’t himself – I mean physically – any more, our children would still be beautiful and pure. Oh we’ve talked and talked about the gorgeous babies
we’ll have together.’

Pure?
Evie thought. With a dawning horror she realised what Olivia was talking about. She thought of the German propaganda films she had seen, of flaxen Aryan youths striding wholesomely
through the countryside.

‘That’s what you meant, isn’t it?’ She gathered up her parcels. ‘You said I’m not Beau’s type. What you meant was I’m … too
dark!’

‘Hush!’ Olivia glanced nervously around. ‘I just meant that our families want the blood line of our children to be unblemished. Uncle Hans says—’

‘But he’s a Nazi.’ Evie’s eyes widened in horror. ‘You’re a sympathiser aren’t you?’ she said.

Olivia folded her hands in her lap. ‘My father and Uncle Hans are very close. They … we, share certain ideologies.’

‘We? You mean you and Beau?’ Evie’s heart was racing. ‘I’ll have you know my mother is Danish, and my father’s family is Jewish. I may not be
“pure” like you, but I’m damn proud of my family and who I am.’

‘Oh dear, I’ve upset you,’ Olivia said limply. ‘All I wanted was to be your friend. You seemed so kind the other night, and I thought …’ She hesitated.
‘I thought you might be able to tell me what Beau gets up to.’

‘You want me to spy on your fiancé?’ Evie said incredulously. She pulled on her coat. ‘Ridiculous! Why don’t you grow up and ask him yourself what’s going on
Olivia?’

‘Yes, yes … I’m quite sure you’re right.’

‘As for your precious Beau, or Alex, or whatever you call him, he may be making love to half the women at White Waltham as far as I know, but I wouldn’t touch him if he was the last
man on earth.’ Evie tossed a few coins onto the table with a flourish. ‘Good day.’

As she watched Evie leave, a satisfied smile crept over Olivia’s lips.

13

The girls marched through the offices side by side. In their new uniforms they felt ten feet tall. One of the men couldn’t help wolf whistling as they walked past, and
every head turned.

‘Aye, aye – here comes the beauty chorus,’ he said to Doyle as they stepped aside to let the girls pass.

‘Oh God, I love our uniforms!’ Megan whispered as they signed the students’ attendance book. ‘I’m going to wear mine even on my day off!’

‘Good morning, everyone,’ Badger said as the class settled down, chairs scraping on the lino floor. Someone sneezed. ‘I’d take a whisky and aspirin for that, laddie. We
don’t want you falling sick on us now.’

‘Yes, sir,’ the man said.

‘Right, chaps,’ he said, and paused, looking directly at Evie, ‘and girls. We’ve reached the point you have all been waiting for. Congratulations on passing your
ground-school tests. Captain Gribble has signed you off, and it is now time for your cross­country training. You will all be flying dual then solo in the Magister. As cadets we expect you to
complete thirty cross­country flights solo before we admit you to the ferry pool. You will also fly dual then solo in the Miles Master, before progressing to the Harvard—’

‘Is that the one that sounds like an angry bee?’ Megan whispered to Evie.

‘Now,’ Badger continued, ‘you have each been assigned an instructor. Because we urgently need fresh blood, as it were, Nora will be working with several other pilots to train
you.’ Through the sea of heads, Evie caught Beau’s eye.

Nora stood, and shuffled through her papers. ‘Thank you, sir. Let’s get cracking. Will those pilots flying this morning please change and meet their instructors on the
field.’

Evie’s stomach tensed with excitement. ‘That’s us then, girls,’ she said, as the meeting broke up and the pilots filed out of the room.

They changed quickly in the cloakroom. As Evie touched up her lipstick in the mirror, Megan slipped out of her pleated skirt. ‘This lovely uniform,’ she said as she
carefully folded her skirt in the locker, ‘all this and £26 a year, I feel like I’m dreaming.’

Evie shrugged on her heavy black leather sheepskin jacket over her Sidcot suit. ‘I wish this was blue,’ she said as she turned in front of the mirror. ‘Do you think
…?’

Stella laughed as she fastened her high boots. ‘It’s RAF regulation, Evie, not a fashion statement.’

‘I know, darling, but black and navy.’

‘Your shirts are wizzo,’ Megan said, touching the soft fabric of Evie’s spare shirt in the locker. Evie had turned the tiny space into a miniature version of her dressing
table. A beaded evening dress glittered in the shadows at the back, and beside her ferry notes were scattered a gold lipstick and a bottle of Chanel Cuir de Russie.

‘Well, it’s such a relief that we could at least choose our own shirts and ties,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t go quite as far as Wendy.’

‘Who?’ Megan said as she wriggled into her flight suit.

‘Audrey Sale-Barker,’ Evie said. ‘She had her uniform made up in Savile Row. Haven’t you seen it? It has a scarlet lining.’ She brushed down her jacket before
hanging it up, imagining the day when there would be gold wings in the empty space.

‘Right,’ Stella said. ‘Everything tiggerty-boo?’

The girls linked arms. ‘Let’s go and show them what we’re made of,’ Evie said.

A haze of tobacco smoke hung like a cloud across the mess ceiling as Evie pushed her way through the crowd after her flight. Several of the pilots were clustered around the
stoves for warmth. A paper dart shot across the room as she walked past, and she saw Miss Gold the secretary pinning a lost property notice on the board. Evie was freezing, and dying for a cup of
tea. She couldn’t see Stella or Megan, so she joined the queue and waited patiently, rubbing her arms to warm up.

‘Don’t give me your “Hi babe” look, Arthur Smith,’ Jean said from behind the counter.

‘Come on, Jeanie, you know you want to go out dancing with me Friday. We could have a couple of pints at the Beehive first …’

Evie peered around the side of the queue and saw one of the engineers leaning against the counter, his hat at a jaunty angle. He picked up a cake, but Jean smacked his hand.

‘Taking liberties like that. Get your filthy oily hands off my scones,’ she said.

Evie suppressed a laugh.

‘There you are!’ Stella joined her in the queue. ‘How did you get on?’

‘Fine,’ Evie said. ‘Old misery guts didn’t say much, but at least I didn’t get told off this time.’ She didn’t like to admit how much she had enjoyed
flying with Beau again, the sensation that he was right behind her. She had to force herself to concentrate on his instructions because all she could think about was the ride home on Monty. She had
thought after lunch the other day he might have been more friendly, but he had closed off again. ‘I mentioned I bumped into his fiancée the other day in town, but he just cut me
dead.’ Evie flushed angrily at the thought of her confrontation with Olivia. As Beau debriefed her after the flight, she had looked at him and wondered if he really did have the same twisted
views as Olivia. She couldn’t make sense of it at all. ‘How did you get on?’

‘Nora is a marvellous instructor,’ Stella said. ‘She just gives you so much confidence.’

Lucky you
, Evie thought.

‘To be honest it was the first time I’ve really enjoyed myself flying. I was always so nervous with Richard, worried that I had to impress him.’ She hesitated. ‘Nora said
she couldn’t believe I only had 250 hours.’