The Skylark's Secret(45)

It came as no surprise that the role of the base might be changing. The war seemed to be spreading like wildfire, and it felt as if the map of the world was changing colour in front of their eyes as more and more countries were consumed by the flames. Only the other evening they’d seen newsreel footage of the aftermath of an attack by Japanese bombers on a place far away on the other side of the world called Pearl Harbor. The images of broken ships, half-sunk in the oil-slicked water, and of stretchers bearing burned bodies had silenced the usually talkative audience in the hall. Although the devastation was thousands of miles away, to those watching beside the anchorage in Loch Ewe it seemed all too close to home. Those ships could have been their own. Those broken and bloodied bodies could have been their friends and shipmates.

‘Now that the Yanks are in, maybe we’ll be getting some American visitors,’ speculated Bridie hopefully. To date all her romantic liaisons had fizzled out, usually ending in tears due to deployment elsewhere or, in one case, the discovery of a fiancée back at home.

Mairi laughed. ‘D’you think they’ll be a better bet than our British boys then? They’re even more likely to be just passing through.’

Bridie took a bite of cake, considering this. ‘Yes, but they might bring things with them. Wouldn’t it be grand to have some perfume again? And a lipstick? Maybe even some stockings that don’t make your legs look like they belong to a heavyweight wrestler?’ She sighed disconsolately, scratching at her calf; the thick wool cladding was perennially itchy.

‘I’d settle for a bar of soap,’ Mairi said. ‘It’s to be rationed too now, did you hear?’

‘That’s rich, coming from you, Mairi Macleod,’ retorted Bridie. ‘You never settle for anything.’ Flora knew that in Bridie’s opinion, Mairi was far too picky, having turned down several young men who’d asked her for dates.

‘There’s nothing wrong with waiting for Mr Right to come along,’ chipped in Flora.

‘It’s fine for you to say that.’ Bridie sighed again. ‘You’ve already got your Mr Right.’

Mairi shot Flora a sympathetic glance. Her friend had confided that Alec’s father was standing in the way of their betrothal. He’d threatened to pull some strings with his friends in high places and have Alec transferred to Portsmouth unless his son’s ‘absurd liaison’ with the gamekeeper’s daughter ended. They knew that this was entirely within his powers, as was his ability to replace his keeper, so they met in secret now, being careful not to rock the boat.

The wind had begun to fling scatterings of sleet against the sides of the corrugated tin huts by the time the briefings ended. Those personnel who were off duty sprinted across the dark parade ground to regather in the warmth of the NAAFI and Bridie hurried back to her post behind the counter to brew another gargantuan pot of tea.

Ruaridh and Alec joined Flora and Mairi, removing their peaked caps and setting them on the table to dry, and quickly filled them in on the latest news. With Russia fighting against Hitler’s army on several fronts, keeping the Soviet supply lines open was essential. But in the south the borders were controlled by Germany now. The only way to get vital munitions and equipment in would be through the Arctic. Convoys of ships would have to run the gauntlet past the northern cape of Norway, now defended by German battleships and U-boats as well as the Luftwaffe. And Loch Ewe was to be one of the mustering points from which these convoys would depart.

The mood in the canteen – which was usually light-hearted and jocular, the noise of friendly banter mingling with the clatter of cutlery and the hissing of the hot water urn – had become more serious all of a sudden. What they had seen up until now had only been the beginning.

As Bridie topped up their cups, the three girls exchanged a look of fear as they realised that the safe harbour alongside which they made their homes had just become a strategic focal point in a world torn apart by war.



The hilltops were blanketed in a layer of fresh snow the next morning, and Flora blew on her hands to warm them a little. She’d just had to change a spark plug in the ambulance she was to drive that day, which had refused to start, and her fingertips were frozen. She climbed into the cab and tried the engine again, breathing a sigh of relief when it started with ease. Her orders were to transfer two patients from the sick bay at the base over to Gairloch, where the hotel had been turned into a military hospital. She scraped the layer of crisp frost from the windscreen and then, as she waited for her charges to be brought out, thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her navy-issue greatcoat and paced back and forth in an attempt to keep warm. Her attention was caught by the sight of a familiar figure emerging from the command hut across the parade ground.

‘Alec!’ she called, waving to attract his attention.

He appeared to be deep in thought, but his eyes, which had been fixed on the path, lit up as he saw her.

He hurried over. ‘Flora, I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I have to tell you.’ The tone of his voice was flat, and she realised that behind his smile his expression was taut with tension.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, the good news is that I’ve been promoted to lieutenant commander.’

‘Why, Alec, that’s wonderful. I thought you still had two more years to go?’

‘I did. They’ve speeded things up a little.’