Page 20 of The London Girls
She unscrewed the radiator cap and peered in, turning to Jack when she realised how low it was. She could barely see any.
‘Over there,’ he said, inclining his head.
Florence looked around until she set eyes on a metal container with a spout, going to inspect it before picking it up. ‘Is there a tap outside?’
He nodded and she went out, grateful for a second to herself to catch her breath. She had a feeling this was going to be harder than she’d expected.
Florence only let herself wallow a moment before filling up the container and going back inside, carefully pouring the water in until she was happy with the level.
‘Are you an ambulance driver yourself?’ she asked.
‘No,’ Jack replied.
She pursed her lips, wondering how on earth she was going to manage a one-sided conversation. She didn’t find talking to people she didn’t know difficult, but it helped when the other person gave more than one-word replies, and she didn’t fancy spending the morning in silence.
He stretched out his leg then, and she glanced at it, the colour draining from her face as she recalled his limp.Of course he can’t drive an ambulance, you idiot! He has a damaged right leg!
‘So your role is primarily in training new drivers?’ she asked, screwing the radiator cap back on.
‘Sometimes.’
Oh good Lord, this man is impossible!
She set the water can down and turned to him, hoping she didn’t look as flustered as she felt.
‘We’ve been partnered together, for now. You and me,’ he said, before gesturing at his leg. ‘I can’t pass the physical for driving myself.’
And this day is just getting better and better.
She stifled a sigh and forced a bright smile that belied her despair. ‘Fantastic. Well, it’s good to know who I’ll be working with each day.’ Gosh, she was going to have to get used to very long periods of silence if they were going to spend hours in a vehicle together.
‘Nights,’ he said. ‘We’ll be working nights, six till eight.’
‘Right then.’
He dropped to his haunches then, and she noticed the tightening of his mouth when he lowered, the awkward angle he positioned his right leg at as he gestured to the tyre, his big hands steady on the rubber.
‘You know how to change a tyre?’
She smiled, but this time it didn’t feel forced. The poor man was clearly in pain and had been through some kind of terrible trauma, which meant she needed to perk up and keep the conversation going for both of them.
‘I helped my father once, but I wouldn’t say I know how to do it,’ she replied. ‘We were up to our ankles in mud, rain was pelting down and—’
‘The less you talk, the faster we’ll get through all this.’
Florence bristled. ‘Sorry, I was just—’
‘The tyre,’ Jack said, grunting as he extended his leg out further, shifting his weight again. ‘You need to be fast at taking it off and putting the spare on.’
‘Righto,’ she muttered, blinking away unexpected tears and hoping he hadn’t noticed. She was furious at herself for getting emotional, but she couldn’t help it, not used to such unfriendliness.
‘When you’re out at night, with bombs falling, a flat tyre could kill you if you can’t change it quickly,’ Jack said, his face softening as he looked at her.So much for him not seeing her tears.‘The most dangerous place you can be is out of your vehicle at night, so I need to know you can change it faster than anyone else out there. I may not always be with you, and you’re the driver, so it’ll be your responsibility.’
She nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I’m not ...’ Jack made a noise in his throat that sounded half-grunt, half-sigh. He shook his head, as if he were frustrated with himself. ‘Look, I used to be better with people.’
Florence quickly wiped at her eyes. ‘War changes us. I do understand.’
