plotting?’ she asked.
PT and Paul were anxious that Luc didn’t stick his nose in, so they moved across to the dining table at the far end before they explained.
‘Cleaners,’ Rosie said, when she understood. ‘There’s a couple of the young WAAFs who do all the cleaning. We’ve chatted a couple of times in the bathroom.’
‘They’ve got keys?’ Paul asked.
Rosie shrugged. ‘They must get into the rooms somehow, mustn’t they? If they haven’t got their own keys, they’ll know where to get them.’
‘Will they lend ’em to you though?’ PT asked.
‘Probably,’ Rosie said. ‘If I play it right. I’ll need Paul, come on.’
‘What about me?’ PT asked.
‘Go check out the classroom,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
Rosie had always been bossy, so Paul wasn’t surprised that she’d taken control. She quickly put on trousers and a jumper and dragged Paul out into the snow.
‘Move it,’ she said stiffly.
‘I can’t,’ Paul protested. His joints had loosened up as the day wore on, but his knees and ankles still hurt and he couldn’t manage anything above a slow walking pace.
To avoid suspicion from the others, PT left it a couple of minutes before heading out towards the classroom. By this time Rosie had knocked on the door of the WAAFs’ accommodation hut.
‘Keep quiet unless you’re spoken to,’ Rosie told Paul firmly. Her tone changed completely as she stepped into the hut. ‘Hi, everyone,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Ooooooh, it’s lovely and warm in here.’
The hut was identical to the one the kids were staying in, except that the base’s permanent residents got a proper fireplace and sprung mattresses. The girls had also put up movie posters and found some old rugs to cover bare floorboards.
Ten WAAFs slept in the hut, but there were only three present. Luckily they included the teenager called Iris who Rosie had been hoping to find.
‘How’s it going, lass?’ Iris asked, in a north-east accent so thick that you had to concentrate to understand what she was saying.
Paul felt embarrassed as he walked deeper into the hut behind his sister. It was a girls’ world. Underwear hung out to dry and he caught wafts of talcum powder and perfume, mixed with wet shoe leather and armpits.
‘I thought you’d be here at this time of day,’ Rosie said, lowering her voice as she approached the bed. Neither of the other girls seemed remotely interested.
‘Nowhere else to bloody well go, is there?’ Iris said, making it sound as if this was somehow Rosie’s fault. ‘I don’t mind if we lose the war. Then I can marry some nice big German and get out of this bunghole.’
Paul was shocked, but Rosie was clearly used to it. ‘This is my brother, Paul.’
‘Aye-up, mate!’ Iris said noisily. ‘And there I was thinking you was her bleedin’ pet monkey.’
Iris thought this was hysterically funny and broke into a high-pitched laugh. Paul had only known Iris for a minute, but had already decided that she was the most irritating person he’d ever met.
‘Good to see you’re better though, lad,’ Iris said. ‘Your sister was really worried about you the other night.’
‘Thank you,’ Paul said awkwardly.
‘Anyway,’ Rosie said, as she pointed at Paul. ‘This silly sod’s gone and left his parachute helmet in hut P, and you know what those instructors are like. Parris will yell at him.’
‘Oh you wouldn’t want that,’ Iris laughed. ‘Would we, sweetie-chops?’
Iris grabbed Paul’s cheek with four porky fingers and shook his head back and forth. ‘He looks like a nice boy,’ she grinned. ‘Sort of delicate. Not like my brothers, they’re right little bastards. You know what, Rosie? Last time I went home on leave the eight-year-old pissed in me suitcase the night before I left. I’m putting his head through the wall next time I set eyes on him.’
‘Deserves it,’ Rosie agreed. ‘So have you got keys? Like, for when you do the cleaning.’
‘Nah, but she ’as over there.’ Iris shouted. ‘Julia, can you give this lass your keys? She’ll only be a tick.’
Julia was pretty, and her willowy body almost seemed to float above her bed as she sat on its corner filing her nails. She eyed Rosie with suspicion, but apparently had no stomach for an argument with Iris and threw the keys to Rosie.
‘Thanks, girls,’ Rosie said happily, as she dragged Paul towards the doors. ‘You’re lifesavers. I’ll be five minutes, ten maximum.’
‘Eww,’ Paul said, shuddering as they walked on towards the classroom. ‘That girl’s voice is like chalk squeaking on a blackboard.’
Rosie laughed. ‘I thought she fancied