Page 21 of The London Girls
Jack looked at her as if she couldn’t possibly understand, or perhaps that was just him wondering how anyone could ever understand his personal pain – another feeling she knew well. There were so many times she looked at someone and wished they could see the pain inside her, the gaping loss that was almost impossible to live through. Wished they knew what she’d experienced, what the war had taken away from her, so they could understand her suffering.
‘The tyre,’ she said, trying to sound bright. ‘Show me what to do.’
Jack leaned forward and began his demonstration, and as he did so his sleeve slipped back, showing skin that had healed red, the appearance almost twisted – as if the skin were struggling to stretch across the breadth of his forearm.Burned flesh. She wondered then what exactly he’d been through, whether he’d survived a fire or been burned while serving, and it was also then she noticed just how handsome he was. If he smiled, if his strong face wasn’t marred by such sadness, she could imagine that he’d be the kind of man whocould light up a room – the kind of man with a presence perhaps not only due to his size, but to a belly-deep laugh and a wicked grin that stretched his full lips wide.
But when Jack turned back to her, the sadness swimming in his eyes told her that even if he had been that kind of man once, his pain was too deep to ever let him be that man again.
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVIA
‘Oh no, they can’t be our new uniforms,’ Ava cried.
‘Shh,’ Olivia hissed.
‘Is there a problem over here?’
Olivia kept her head down as George walked over to them, watching the ground as his shiny boots came to a halt in front of Ava. Trust Ava to make a fuss.
‘Not up to your standards?’
‘They look like clothes for men,’ Ava huffed. ‘I was merely stating how unsuitable they appeared forwomen.’
‘They look like they’re for men, because theyarefor men,’ George said, loudly enough for everyone to hear as he paced back and forth. There were four women gathered, Ava and Olivia, one of the other girls who’d been selected on the same day as them, and another woman who’d been chosen since. ‘In case I haven’t been clear, the positions you’re filling are usually reserved for men, and as such, we are woefully unprepared for your arrival. So yes, these uniforms were made with men in mind, but I can assure you that they are perfectly suitable for motorcycle riders. Are there any more questions?’
Olivia shook her head, not at all concerned about the uniform in the first place. Why did Ava have to complain and drawattention to them? They were riding motorcycles, not working in a fancy office!
‘I would like to point out, however, that these are to be your wet-weather uniforms. They are to be worn only in inclement weather, and you will also be fitted with a pair of wellies before you leave today,’ George continued, walking back and forth before them. ‘On all other occasions you will wear these uniforms,’ he said, smiling at a woman who ran over with a folded pile of clothes. ‘These will be suitable for riding in and also any mechanical work you find yourself undertaking. And I should add that sturdy leather boots will also be provided, and no other footwear, other than your wet-weather wellies, is ever permitted when riding.’
‘Sir, will we be given helmets?’ Olivia asked.
‘You’ll be issued with hats that will form part of your uniform. They have a solid brim at the front to keep the sun from your eyes.’
Ava leaned close to Olivia, her lips whispering against her ear, ‘Would it kill him to crack a smile? He’s so stern all the time.’
Olivia managed to keep her face straight, determined not to be lumped with Ava in George’s bad books, and when he turned back she hoped the warm smile she gave him was convincing. He passed them all their dry-weather uniforms, and she resisted the urge to unfold hers and see how it looked. It turned out she needn’t have been curious, as Ava held up the dull trousers and jacket immediately, not saying a word this time but with her eyebrows rising sky-high on her forehead.
‘We can alter them,’ Olivia whispered when George had his back to them. ‘They might not be our Wren uniforms, but we can still make them look good if we cinch the waist.’
‘Hmph,’ Ava grumbled. ‘I doubtverymuch we’re going to look good in them.’
Olivia smiled. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m here for the motorcycle riding. No, the uniforms aren’t as fancy and stylish asour old ones, but how many other women can say they have a job ridingmotorcycles? I’d say that’s enough on its own.’
Ava nudged her shoulder into Olivia’s then, and Olivia nudged her straight back.
‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘You suppose?’ Olivia teased.
‘Fine, youareright,’ Ava whispered. ‘But can you let me mourn my old uniform for just a little longer? I shall be hanging it on the back of my bedroom door so I can admire it. I can’t help it if I like to look nice.’
George turned back to them then, and they both straightened, standing to attention and staying quiet. He certainly did seem very unimpressed with them all.
‘Today you’ll be taught how to maintain your own motorcycle,’ George said. ‘It’s crucial that you keep your motorcycle running well, and that you don’t find yourselves stranded on the roadside, unable to ride.’ He nodded to a couple of men in overalls who’d been standing behind him, and they disappeared for a moment before returning, each pushing a shiny new motorcycle.
‘Today is also the day youreceiveyour motorcycle,’ George said. ‘No one else will drive your bike; for all intents and purposes they belong to you, so treat them as if they’re your most prized possession.’
Olivia’s eyes widened as she stared at one of the mechanics, realising he was coming directly towards her. She stepped forward, taking hold of the handlebars as she looked the motorcycle over. Ava was whispering something but she didn’t even hear her; she was suddenly filled with so much pride, so much excitement about what they were doing.
