Wartime Brides by Lizzie Lane

amusement until after she’d given Geoffrey a shake. ‘Don’t you dare do it again. And you’d better apologise when your father gets up.’
    Only after he’d been told to get into the bathroom and wash his face did she allow herself to laugh.
    ‘That’ll cheer Doctor Hennessey-White up,’ said Mrs Grey as, still chortling, she turned back towards the kitchen and the precious egg she’d just cracked into a cup.
    Charlotte decided to brave taking her husband’s breakfast up on a tray. What Mrs Grey had said made sense . His son’s pranks had made David laugh before the war and there was no reason why they shouldn’t now.
    She went up the stairs, opened the bedroom door, then stopped dead in her tracks.
    ‘David! No!’ Her hands shook and the crockery on the breakfast tray rattled. Her heart didn’t want to believe it, yet her eyes took in the set of his jaw and the unearthly gleam in his eyes.
    ‘Where is that little swine?’ David growled, his brows knitted in a deep, dark frown. ‘It’s time the little bugger got some discipline. I’ve been away too long and you’ve been too soft with him.’
    ‘David, you can’t!’ With sinking hope for what might have been, Charlotte froze as David slowly wound the end of a leather belt around his fist.

Chapter Five
    GAVIN HADN’T COME home and Polly was not going to put a hold on her life because of that.
    She was not tall but jutting out her chin like an aggressive prizefighter gave her a determined look. And that was certainly how she was feeling as a few days later she marched towards the bus stop, the rabbit-skin collar of her black coat turned up against the chill evening air.
    Gavin had not been on the train and her mind was made up. She had given both him and God this last chance and both of them had let her down. Now it was up to her to take care of her future. If he couldn’t take care of her and Carol, then she had to find someone who could. But the chances of fulfilling her dream were lessening. She had to act quickly.
    Time was ticking away. The war in Europe was over and the American and Canadian troops were going home as fast as the job could be done.
    ‘And what good is that to me!’ she muttered as she marched along. Soon there would be no more GIs left in Britain and her chance to escape to something better would be gone.
    After some persuading Aunty Meg had agreed to look after Carol even though she had taken care of her for most of the day. But Polly had been resolute.
    ‘I’m too young to be stuck in with a kid for the rest of my life!’
    ‘You should have thought of that earlier,’ said Meg.
    Polly had avoided her aunt’s eyes and bolted upstairs where she slid into her favourite dress, a long-sleeved black number with a white satin collar and matching cuffs.
    Her friend Mavis was waiting for her at the bus stop. Mavis was at least five inches taller than Polly, dark-haired and slim enough to fit into Polly’s clothes if it wasn’t for the fact that they’d be far too short on her to be decent.
    ‘Brass monkeys tonight, innit,’ Mavis stated, shrugging her shoulders and nestling her chin further inside the old fox fur whose rigid claws rattled like dry bones each time she shivered.
    Polly grinned and nodded at the glazed eyes and black nose of the dead fox. ‘Must be. Killed ’im dead for a start.’
    They laughed. A bit more gossip and a bit more banter and Polly’s thoughts about Gavin were forgotten. Her determination to find a suitable replacement was not.
    There were about twenty people waiting at the stop by the time the bus came. Cigarette smoke mixed with steamy breath, a few coughs, and raucous laughter from single men just returned home and intent on getting drunk to celebrate the occasion.
    Mavis nudged Polly. ‘They’re looking at us. I quite fancy ’im in the grey suit.’
    Polly glanced quickly then just as quickly looked away. ‘They all got grey suits, stupid. Demobs! What the bloody ’ell do we want with