officer, only once turning back to glance over his shoulder at the girls as they made their way across to the other side of the camp to collect their uniforms.
On New Year’s Eve the hall filled up rapidly as more and more of the men arrived, having stopped off at the bar in the Aultbea Hotel for a pint or two, shouting greetings and slapping the backs of their shipmates. There were some faces that Flora recognised from the camp and many others who were strangers, recently returned from duties out at sea.
Alec had very gallantly collected Flora, Mairi and Bridie for the Hogmanay dance and driven them to the hall, preserving their newly waved hairdos and carefully pressed skirts. He found them chairs and brought them drinks, introducing them to some of his fellow officers. A small band began to tune up at the far end of the hall, the notes of a fiddle rising above the hubbub of voices.
Flora’s face lit up at the sight of her brother entering the hall with a girl on his arm. So that’s where he’d disappeared off to earlier; she’d thought he must be heading for the hotel, whose recently rechristened ‘Jellyjar Tavern’ had become a popular gathering place for naval personnel. The jelly and jam jars in question had been pressed into use when the hotel had run out of glasses, to satisfy the increase in demand from thirsty soldiers and sailors, so the men had begun bringing whatever they could lay their hands on to be filled with beer. Ruaridh had told her that one especially enterprising sub-lieutenant had managed to persuade Miss Cameron, the postmistress, to part with one of the large sweetie jars that were now sitting empty on the shelf in her shop since sugar rationing had come in. The jar could be filled with several pints of beer and passed around between those who hadn’t managed to find a suitable drinking vessel of their own.
As Ruaridh and his date approached, Alec stood and shook his hand.
‘Hello, Alec. Mairi. Bridie.’ Ruaridh nodded towards the girls. ‘This is Wendy. And that’s my sister, Flora. Wendy’s a Wren, too.’
‘Pleased to meet you all,’ she beamed. ‘I’ve heard lots about you.’
Flora wondered briefly when the pair had found time for such discussions. Ruaridh seemed to have been very busy of late, at his post at the signal station on the hill beyond Tournaig Farm at all hours, relaying directions to the mass of ships manoeuvring in the loch below.
‘Wendy’s a meteorologist,’ he explained. ‘She has to take the weather readings up at the signal station. That’s where we met.’
Flora smiled, the penny dropping.
The band struck up a dance tune and Alec held out his hand. ‘Would you honour me with the first dance, Miss Gordon?’
‘Why, I’d be delighted to, Lieutenant Mackenzie-Grant,’ Flora replied, laughing at his formality.
They joined the general surge on to the dance floor, which was quickly packed with couples. Flora smiled over at Mairi and Bridie who were dancing with a pair of officers. Following her glance, Alec bent close to her ear and whispered, ‘Good. Now I don’t have to be polite and ask them, too. I’d much rather spend the evening only dancing with you.’
Flora hoped that the flush on her cheeks would be attributed to the dancing and the heat in the crowded hall. She’d found herself thinking about Alec a great deal lately, looking out for him at the camp when she was ferrying personnel back and forth to the jetty and hoping that one day he might turn out to be the passenger she was collecting. There was no one else she wanted to dance with, either. He held her hand a little more tightly as the current of the dance carried them along in its flow.
The noise and the heat reverberated in the tin-roofed hall as the evening wore on and midnight approached. Then the band leader stopped the music and everyone shouted out the countdown as the hands of the clock ticked towards 1940. And then there was cheering and kissing as a piper joined the band and struck up ‘Auld Lang Syne’.
‘A good new year,’ Flora whispered to Alec.
Without a word, he drew her close, his arms a quiet haven in the midst of the voices raised in song and celebration, and for a moment she imagined them to be alone, the pair of them marooned on their island of silence in a sea of sound.