she wants to make certain it reaches him before he’s ordered somewhere else.”
“Well, then, it’s up to you to go with me, Kent,” Talbot said, sitting down on the end of Mary’s cot.
“I can’t. I’m on duty Saturday,” she said, glad she had an excuse. If the dance was in Bomb Alley or one of the other areas that weren’t in her implant—
“Fairchild will trade shifts with you,” Talbot said. “Won’t you, Fairchild?”
“Um-hmm,” Fairchild said without opening her eyes.
“But that’s not fair to her,” Mary said. “Perhaps she wants to go to the dance.”
“No, her heart belongs to the boy who used to pull her pigtails. Isn’t that right, Fairchild?”
“Yes,” she said defensively.
“He’s a pilot,” Parrish explained. “He’s stationed at Tangmere. He flies Spitfires.”
“He’s her childhood sweetheart,” Reed put in, “and she’s made up her mind to marry him, so she isn’t interested in other men.”
Fairchild sat up, looking indignant. “I didn’t say I was going to marry him. I said I was in love with him. I’ve loved him since I—”
“Since you were six and he was twelve,” Talbot said. “We know. And when he sees you all grown up he’s going to fall madly in love with you. But what if he doesn’t?”
“And how do you know you’ll still be in love with him when you see him again?” Reed said. “You haven’t seen him in nearly three years. It might have only been a schoolgirl crush.”
“It wasn’t,” Fairchild said firmly.
Talbot looked skeptical. “You can’t know that for certain unless you go out with other men, which is why you need to go to the dance with me. I’m only thinking of your welfare—”
“No, you’re not. Kent, I’d be delighted to switch shifts with you.” She punched her pillow into shape, lay down, and closed her eyes. “Good night all.”
“Then it’s settled. You’re going with me, Kent.”
“Oh, but I—”
“It’s your duty to go. After all, it’s your fault I lost the pool and haven’t any stockings.”
The siren went, making it impossible to talk. Good, Mary thought, it will give me a chance to think of an excuse, and when it wound down, she said, “I haven’t anything to wear. I lent both of my dancing frocks to Parrish and Maitland, and the Yellow Peril makes me look jaundiced.”
“The Yellow Peril makes everyone look jaundiced,” Talbot said. “You won’t need a dancing frock. This is a canteen dance. You can wear your uniform.”
“Where’s it being held?” she asked, thinking, If it’s in Bomb Alley, I’ll have to pretend I’m ill on Saturday.
“The American USO in Bethnal Green.”
Bethnal Green. So she could finally go look at the railway bridge and stop worrying over whether she could trust her implant. She should be able to sneak away from the dance easily—Talbot would be busy trying to wheedle nylons out of her Yanks—and it was perfect timing. The only V-1s that had fallen on Bethnal Green on Saturday were in the afternoon.
“Very well, I’ll go,” she said, congratulating herself on her cleverness and wondering if she could persuade one of the soldiers at the dance to take her to Grove Road in his Jeep, but at two Saturday afternoon Talbot said, “Aren’t you ready, Kent?”
“Ready? I thought the dance wasn’t till tonight.”
“No. Didn’t I tell you? It begins at four, and I want to be there before all the best Yanks are taken.”
“But—”
“No excuses. You promised. Now hurry, or we’ll miss our bus,” and dragged her off to the bus stop.
Mary spent the ride to Bethnal Green listening anxiously for the sound of a washing machine or an angry hornet and looking for nonexistent street signs. One of the V-1s had fallen at 3:50 in Darnley Lane and the other at 5:28 in King Edward’s Road. “What street is the USO canteen in?” she asked Talbot.
“I can’t remember,” Talbot said. “But I know the way,” which was no help.
“This is our stop,” Talbot said. They descended on a street lined with shops.
Good, Mary thought. This can’t be Darnley Lane. Darnley Lane was a residential street. She glanced at her watch. Five minutes to four. The 3:50 had already hit.
She looked up and down the street. She couldn’t see any sign of a railway bridge, so apparently this wasn’t Grove Road either. She hoped it wasn’t King Edward’s Road. And that the Darnley Lane one had already hit. She didn’t hear any ambulance bells, or an all clear.
“It’s a bit of a hike, I’m afraid,” Talbot said, setting off down the street.
Mary glanced