A Different World by Mary Nichols

with a nipped-in waist and puffed sleeves. He had taken off his jacket and was carrying it over his other shoulder. A camera hung from a strap about his neck.
    ‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘I feel sorry for the blighters being so far from home and loved ones. But don’t you go falling for him.’
    ‘As if I would! Don’t you know how much I love you?’
    ‘So you say,’ he teased. ‘But I’ve heard tales of their exploits with the ladies. Since they turned out to be such heroes, there’s no holding them back.’
    The Polish flyers had distinguished themselves in the Battle of Britain, bringing down more enemy aircraft than any other squadron with fewer casualties, although those were far from light. Not until Churchill told the nation ‘Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few’ did the people of Britain realise what a narrow squeak it had been and the extent of the contribution of the Polish airmen. They were feted everywhere and invited into people’s homes. In the public houses they hardly ever paid for their own drinks and the clippies refused to take their fares on the buses and received kisses for a thank you. Articles appeared about them in newspapers and magazines, all of which they lapped up. London society hostesses held lavish parties in their honour, where there seemed to be no shortage of food and drink. Girls almost threw themselves at them to the chagrin of the British airmen. In the air, fighting for their lives, they concentrated on what they were doing, but on the ground they had an endless capacity for enjoyment and causing mayhem.
    Louise, who had come to know Jan from his letters, understood what lay beneath the surface. ‘I don’t think Jan is like that,’ she said. ‘He is pining for his wife. All I’m doing is trying to cheer him up.’
    ‘Then you do that, sweetheart. How could I begrudge the man a letter or two when I have so much more?’
    ‘I knew you’d say that. Where are you going to be stationed?’
    ‘Coltishall, 2-4-2 Squadron. It’s commanded by Squadron Leader Douglas Bader. He lost both legs in a flying accident nine years ago. I’ve been told he doesn’t let that hamper him and he’s still flying. The good thing is that the station is near enough to take advantage of a twenty-four-hour pass when I get one.’
    ‘It’s near enough for me to come over and see you for a weekend too.’
    ‘That’s an idea, though I don’t know how long I’ll be there. I might not come up to scratch.’
    ‘What makes you say that?’
    ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m nervous, I suppose, going on ops for the first time. Will I have the guts to do it?’
    ‘You’ll be all right, more than all right, I should say.’
    ‘How do you know that?’
    ‘Because I do.’
    They wandered down a grassy path just wide enough for a horse and cart or a very small car if you didn’t worry about its springs on the rutted surface. On either side were meadows dotted with bright yellow buttercups where cattle grazed. Tony took several pictures of Louise, positioning her with a wild rose hedge as a background.
    ‘I want one or two of you,’ she said. ‘Show me how to work the camera. It looks complicated. I’ve only ever had a Brownie Box.’
    ‘That was my first one, I had it for my tenth birthday and that started me off. It won’t help me much in the building trade, but I find the subject fascinating. When I go to the pictures I find myself thinking of camera angles and different shots, when I should be concentrating on the story.’
    ‘Would you like to do that sort of thing after the war, be a film cameraman, I mean?’ Louise asked
    ‘No, I don’t think so, taking pictures is only a hobby. Look, allyou’ve got to do is look through the viewfinder and when it looks OK, press this knob.’
    She did that, though she doubted her hand was steady enough, and then he set the camera up to take them both together and by then he had used up all the