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war ended.

Jessica looked her up and down.

‘It won’t do, Ronnie,’ she said. ‘Not for New Year’s Eve.’

‘No one’s going to take any notice of me,’ Ronnie protested, not nearly as bothered as she’d been on the night of the dance.

‘That combination of navy skirt and blue blouse looks like a school uniform,’ Jessica said, frowning. ‘I can at least lend you a top.’

Five minutes later Ronnie was wearing a long-sleeved red top with a scooped neck and a pair of Jessica’s pearl studs on her earlobes.

‘That’s a lot better,’ Jessica said, ‘though we have the usual shoe problem.’

‘You’d better ask Miss Dummitt if you can borrow hers again,’ Angela said with a smirk, looking up from her magazine. ‘That’s if she doesn’t want to wear them herself tonight.’

‘I shall be wearing my brogues,’ Ronnie said, ignoring her and putting on one of her old jumpers.

‘At least there’s no snow this time,’ Jessica grinned, ‘so the brogues won’t be as noticeable as the wellies.’

Ronnie laughed. ‘What an evening that was.’

‘And your Michael didn’t seem to mind one bit.’ Jessica joined in the laughter. ‘In fact, I think he was intrigued.’

Ronnie blushed, aware of Angela’s eyes on her, and her lip curling in an ugly manner.

‘Shows what taste he has,’ Angela muttered.

‘Are you ready?’ Jessica said pointedly to Ronnie.

‘Once I get this second jumper on.’ Ronnie pulled a baggy piece of knitwear over her head and reached for her raincoat. ‘Right. Now I’m ready.’

‘Happy New Year,’ Angela called after them in a sarcastic tone.

Stomachs full after a delicious fish and chip meal, the group led by Dora walked a hundred yards on to the Greyhound. From the laughter emanating from inside, a large crowd must have already gathered for the long evening ahead. Dora pushed open the door. Angela was correct on one thing, Ronnie thought, as the smoke hit the back of her throat, sending her straight into a bout of coughing.

‘What yer havin’ ter drink, ladies?’ Dora said.

Ronnie hesitated. The last proper drink she’d had was the punch at the dance, and it might have contributed to her somewhat outrageous behaviour of dancing barefoot.

‘What about a sweet sherry?’ Jessica said, glancing at her.

‘Oh, yes, that’ll be nice.’ At least she’d sampled it one Christmas.

The other three quickly gave their orders and Dora headed straight for the bar, pushing her way through the mostly male drinkers, leaving Ronnie and the others squashed into a corner, with people still coming through the front door.

Dora was back in less than two minutes, a grin spread across her face.

‘Good thing I made a bookin’,’ she said. ‘Dick’s saved us a table.’ She jerked her head. ‘Through the arch by the other fire.’ Her glance fell on May. ‘Yous can come with me, miss, ter help carry the drinks.’

Ronnie followed Jessica and Sally through the archway, Jess bending low so as not to knock her head against the beams. Most of the tables in this smaller room were occupied by couples. Several of the men eyed the girls as they walked over to the vacant oblong table which had a piece of card propped up by an upturned beer mug in the centre with ‘RESURVD’ scrawled on it.

The three of them removed their coats and hats, chatting about their day, but soon the conversation turned to the missing trainee.

‘It’s awful to say it, but I’m so pleased Angela decided not to come tonight,’ Sally said. ‘What a misery she is. Never got anything good to say about anyone.’ She sent Ronnie and Jessica a mischievous grin. ‘I’m just so pleased Dora swapped her and me over so I don’t have to listen to her constant “poor me” act.’

‘I doubt she’ll stay,’ Jessica said. ‘All she likes doing is steering and there’s a lot more to it, and many more dirty, heavy jobs she’s not keen on tackling.’ She leaned back and lit a cigarette. ‘If she does decide to leave it’ll be good riddance, so far as I’m concerned.’

‘Dora’s certainly unbending, isn’t she?’ Sally said. ‘Did you notice how she called us “ladies”? I’m pretty sure that’s a first.’

‘Shhhh!’ Ronnie warned. ‘Here they come.’

Dora and May put the trays on the table, and Dora took a jug of ale and a mug and set it in front of her chair at the head of the table.

‘Before we git started I need the lav. Shan’t be a mo.’

She picked up her canvas bag and still in her coat and hat disappeared.

The girls chatted on until Jessica looked at her watch.

‘Dora’s been gone twenty minutes. Do you think she’s all right?’

‘Shall I—?’ Ronnie started, then spotted a woman coming through the archway. ‘Dora!’ she said in an undertone.

The others followed her gaze. Dora was almost unrecognisable. She was wearing a plain fitted black dress which transformed her stocky figure. She’d smoothed her hair into a tidy knot, leaving a few yellow tendrils at the nape of her neck. But what immediately drew Ronnie’s eye were Dora’s feet. She was wearing the very shoes she’d lent her for the dance at Leamington Spa! They made Dora appear to glide over to the table, and Ronnie noticed several appreciative pairs of eyes following the woman in black.

Dora smiled as she sat down. ‘Well?’ she said challengingly.

‘You look marvellous,’ Ronnie blurted, having sipped half of her sherry. ‘Those shoes are so pretty. To think I never got the chance to wear them.’

Dora seemed to bask in the praise of the others. ‘I’ve decided to git my teeth fixed,’ she stated to everyone’s surprise. ‘No good bein’ dressed to the nines if there’s black gaps in me gnashers.’ She roared with laughter as she poured a huge mug of ale and gulped a quarter of it in one go. Then she turned to Ronnie.

‘Yous is brave, Ver-ron-eek.’

‘Why?’ Ronnie braced herself.

‘Sittin’ next to me,’ Dora chuckled.

Ronnie gave a timid smile.

Dora looked round at the others. ‘Yous all worked like real boaters terday,’ she said. ‘Can’t fault any one of yer, so well

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