Under a Sky on Fire - Suzanne Kelman Page 0,29

looked shocked as Carol shook her head. ‘It’s a standing joke down here. Because we never see the daylight, we are like bats. Laughing about it is how we keep ourselves sane.’

‘And lastly,’ continued Stephanie, ‘if you need a good laugh talk to Sally. She is the life and soul of the party. Mind you, she has been very quiet today,’ she added, pointing to a girl with ruddy cheeks and fair hair at the back of the room who was staring blankly at her shorthand pad.

‘Worse for wear, girls,’ Sally growled back, giving the girls a hangdog look. ‘Should never have gone out last night with that Welsh sergeant. He had me dancing and drinking till two and my head is still spinning.’ She squinted back at her pad. ‘I think this word is supposed to be bombs, but it looks like we might be considering dropping babes on Hitler, if I’m to believe my shorthand notes,’ she announced with a chuckle, moving her pad further away from her eyes to try and focus better.

Her laugh was infectious and there was a snigger throughout the pool.

‘Maybe it’s a new propaganda technique to keep those German soldiers busy elsewhere,’ added Stephanie drily.

Julia started to relax. She could sense the spirit of camaraderie in the room. Probably developed through hours of being down here alone together.

Carol showed Julia where to hang her coat and hat and told her where the cloakroom was. As Julia uncovered her typewriter, she also instructed her how to deal with the in-tray.

‘Are you married?’ Carol asked as she helped her stack her files.

‘My husband’s away.’

‘Mine too,’ smiled Carol. ‘Is yours in Africa as well?’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ Julia admitted. ‘I’m waiting to hear where he will be posted. He just left last week, and I only got a short note from him so far.’

‘It can take a while,’ Carol admitted, dragging her hand through her blonde curls. ‘Mind you, I think Dave used it as an excuse not to write for the first month. He hates writing and it was that long before I actually got four lines on a piece of paper, telling me he was alive. At least in the other three he told me how much he loved me and missed me.’

‘Have any of you met the prime minster yet?’ asked Julia in a hushed tone.

All the girls nodded. ‘Mr Churchill’s rather nice when you get used to him. A little unconventional,’ Stephanie informed her. ‘And he mumbles. You have to be able to type and be able to listen really well. And he hates the clatter of the keys on the typewriter so you have to type softly. He can come across a little bombastic, but he seems like a nice man. He’s always pretty nice to us, though he is short on patience. But don’t take anything personally. You’ll probably be working on his speeches, just like Emily was. You have to type as he speaks. He hates people taking shorthand notes and does a lot of corrections last minute. He’s always changing his mind. That’s probably why they picked you to replace Emily, because you’re fast, and you will need to be.’

‘He won’t be around today,’ added Linda, stamping out her cigarette, bobbing her rolled hair and scrolling up her barrel to check her work. ‘He’s got meetings upstairs today. Unless Germany attacks, you’ll probably have the whole day to get yourself settled in, get used to the warren. It takes a little getting used to, but I’m sure you will fit in fine.’

Julia smiled and thought again, I’m actually going to meet the prime minister. For the first time since before John had left, she felt excited. Even though a war was not the best reason for being here, it felt like she could really make a difference. And she hadn’t realized she’d be working on Mr Churchill’s speeches. As Julia started to read through Emily’s notes to her in the in-tray, the exhilaration of that made her cheeks redden. She would have the honour of seeing those speeches presented to the Houses of Parliament or hear them on the radio. Who would have thought it? A girl from Brixton sitting here working, hobnobbing with the prime minister. Pulling out two sheets of paper, she added carbon and rolled it into her typewriter.

10

Diana collapsed onto her bunk. She couldn’t recall a time when she’d experienced so much pain. Every muscle in her body ached. She had thought being a

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