Wish Me Luck by Margaret Dickinson

grass. Mekin’ a good job of it an’ all,’ Harry said with a note of pride, almost as if he had trained Fleur himself.
    ‘Then what’s she goin’ to do?’ Ruth turned wide eyes on Harry. ‘She’s never going to dig that lot?’
    Harry began to chuckle and Ruth cast her glance skywards. ‘Don’t tell me! She is.’
    At that moment, Fleur, red faced and breathing hard, paused and looked up. Seeing Ruth, she waved.
    ‘I’ve got a message for you,’ Ruth shouted. ‘From Flight Sergeant Watson and …’ Her eyes were full of mischief. ‘From lover boy.’
    Fleur dropped the scythe and pushed her way through the long grass, her eyes anxious. ‘What is it? There’s nothing wrong is there?’
    Ruth shook her head. ‘Far from it. Flying’s cancelled tonight. Low cloud over the target.’ She pulled a face. ‘Wherever that was. So he’s got the night off.’ She grinned. ‘And so have we, ’cos we’re not needed if they’re not flying. A gang of us – including your Robbie – are going to the Mucky Duck in the village.’
    Fleur’s eyebrows rose. ‘The Mucky Duck? What on earth is that?’
    She heard Harry’s deep, rumbling chuckle and saw Mrs Jackson’s smile. ‘It’s the locals’ name for our pub – the White Swan. It’s been called the Mucky Duck for as long as I can remember.’
    ‘Right,’ Fleur said. ‘I’ll just clean the scythe and—’
    ‘No, no, lass,’ Harry said, pulling himself up off the stool. ‘I’ll see to that. You get off and enjoy yourself.’ He seemed about to say more, but then cleared his throat and, instead of whatever he had been about to say, added, ‘You’ve earned it.’
    ‘Thanks, Harry. Can I borrow the scythe next time I get some time off?’
    ‘Course you can, lass. Any time. Just come round and help yoursen out o’ me shed.’
    ‘And I’d better get you girls a bite to eat if you’re going out.’ Mary was struggling to pull herself up. Ruth and Fleur held out their hands to haul the old lady to her feet. ‘Thank you, my dears. Now off you go and make yourselves pretty.’
    ‘That won’t take too long to do,’ Harry laughed. ‘Pretty as a picture already, they are.’
    ‘By the way,’ Ruth said. ‘Sorry, but we have to wear uniform. Ma’am’s orders.’
    Fleur shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I’m proud to wear my uniform.’
    ‘You might change your mind when you see all the local girls in their pretty dresses being chatted up by all the fellers.’
    ‘There’s only one I want to be chatted up by and he’d better not be looking at other girls while I’m around – uniform or no uniform.’
    The two girls laughed and hurried into the house to wash at the sink in the back scullery and change their clothes.
    The two old people watched them go. Quietly, Harry said what he had stopped himself from saying earlier. ‘Aye, let ’em enjoy themselves, eh, Mary? While they can.’

 
Nine
     
    The moment Fleur and Ruth stepped into the public bar of the pub, she spotted Robbie with three other airmen. Kay and Peggy were already sitting with them. Robbie must have been watching the door for he rose at once and threaded his way around tables to reach her. He didn’t kiss her, but took her hands in his and squeezed them warmly. ‘Come and meet the rest of the crew. They’re great lads.’
    He pulled her behind him, weaving his way through the crowded bar room, and made the introductions. He reeled off the names. ‘This is our skipper, Tommy Laughton. And these two reprobates are Alan Hardesty and Johnny Jones.’ Then Robbie waved his arm to encompass other airmen sitting in small groups around the bar room. ‘We’ll no doubt get to know a lot of the other chaps on our Flight in time. They all seem a great bunch.’
    Tommy unfolded his lanky frame and shook her hand warmly. He was thin faced with sharp eyes that missed nothing and he sported a moustache that stuck out on either side of his upper lip like a stiff, bristly shaving brush.
    It