Easterleigh Hall at War by Margaret Graham Page A

agree to shift his arse and get the package to where it should be?’
    Auberon laughed, and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Bumped into a friend of Ver’s who is also one of the Very Adorable Darlings and asked if they had a Grace Manton. One gets so tired of letters from home asking if Jack’s delivered the wretched thing. My sister doesn’t seem to understand that the VADs are a movable feast and could be anywhere, and what’s more there’s a war on and we actually have more important things to do than fulfilling Evie’s wishes.’
    Simon shrugged. ‘Don’t tell her that, or we’ll all be buried six foot under.’ Captain Bridges was standing watching the new intake again, as the sergeant major yelled at them to get a bloody move on.
    Auberon laughed. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it, Corporal. But miracles happen, and this VAD said that Miss Manton is here, or as near as dammit, just a few miles or so away, near the railway station at the camp hospital. I suggested to Jack yesterday that I find and ask this particularly attractive VAD to deliver the package but our Jack refused, wanted to make sure it reached her himself. I daresay that was one of Evie’s directives. So I was denied a reasonable excuse to make contact with the most recent apple of my eye.’
    Jack listened to the pair of them behaving like little girls. Daft buggers. Around them bugles played. It would be the same over at the camp hospital as the nurses skidded along the duckboards, just as the men did here.
    He let them light up yet more cigarettes, and blow the smoke away across their shoulders, saying nothing. Why should they know that he always knew just where Grace Manton was, because he asked every nurse or VAD he came across.
    Auberon wagged a finger at him. ‘Why are you still here? Surely you’ve remembered I suggested sixteen hundred hours in my message to Miss Manton, at the
estaminet
, but she has officer status and you have not, so sit at the back where you are unlikely to be seen, there’s a good lad. And think about taking a commission as Bridges suggested. We’d all support it.’
    â€˜What, and have to buy my own bloody uniform and mingle with the bosses?’ Jack retorted.
    Auberon laughed. ‘Not sure the bosses are ready for it, but he’d look good in long boots, wouldn’t he, Simon? Then you could have his stripes and before we knew where we were we’d have you buying your own uniform too. Just a short step to you two running the ruddy war, each with a batman like Roger.’
    They all laughed. Jack said, ‘Over my dead body.’
    â€˜Highly likely, Jack.’ Auberon’s tone was dry, their laughter was loud. They seemed to do a lot of it, but not deep down.
    The
estaminet
was well over an hour’s walk, Auberon had said, or he could grab a ride on the ration lorry. Jack refused. Why meet sooner than they had to? ‘Once there,’ Auberon said, ‘you’ll see a narrow road that leads from the square, dominated by the church. It leads to Le Petit Chat.’
    Auberon shrugged when Jack asked if there actually was a little cat. ‘You’ll have to wait and see, and for God’s sake, man, get there, give the package over and only after that may you head for the cellar at Rogiers’. Yes, I know you can get good beer there, but it’s as good at Le Petit Chat, I’ve tried both. Bear in mind that I’ll tear your stripes off myself if you retreat before hand over. Just give us all some peace from home, there’s a good lad, and let’s be done with it.’
    Jack made his way to the exit, passing the Lea End lot who had been dismissed and were scrounging amongst the tents and stores, looking for hand-bomb-making material no doubt, to supplement their personal armaments: jam tins, bits of metal and screws, and fuses, all of which Aub and he knew from experience worked a treat. Soon, the rumour