Sylvia was nervous. She wasn't very often – growing up as the only girl in a family of boys and being in the Army now generally made sure of that, but faced with trying to impress Mavis Pike, she was. She'd only seen her once, when they brought the car back, and she'd been too busy berating her son to take much notice of her, but suspected she wasn't her favourite person. As far as she was concerned, Sylvia was most likely still the bad girl who'd tried to lead her boy astray (which wasn't exactly untrue, she had to admit), but somehow, she had to convince her otherwise at tea this afternoon.

'There,' Ada said, brushing her daughter's newly set curls. 'You look lovely.'

'Thanks Mum…do you think she'll like me?'

Ada smiled, slightly on edge herself. She'd never had much to do with Mavis, not having been in Walmington for very long herself, and getting the distinct impression from Bill that there were…reasons…why she shouldn't get too friendly, but knew she was very protective of her boy, and some other things too. Things about the boy's father…not that anyone really knew, but…well, you heard things…not that it was his fault…

'And there but for the Grace of God…' Ada told herself, hoping yet again that Sylvia would continue to be…sensible. She could remember when she'd first met her Stan, and knew it wasn't easy. If Frank's mother had forgotten that once, well…that led down a path she'd never want Sylvia to tread. Some of the ladies of the town still gave her stomach sidelong glances, even now.

'Course she will!' Ada replied briskly, squashing down her concerns. 'Just you be nice, and respectful, and you'll be fine!'

On ringing the bell to the neat semi in Laburnum Gardens, the door was opened almost immediately by a rather overexcited young man.

'Hello!' Pike hadn't seen her in nearly a month, and really just wanted to give her a big hug and kiss right there on the front step, but knew such behaviour wouldn't help if they were going to impress his Mum, and had to settle for giving her a quick peck on the cheek before anyone noticed. Even that made his head spin slightly, and he attempted to cover his reaction by taking her hat and coat (as he'd been taught to do with 'company') by taking more time than was strictly necessary to arrange it on the hall stand before turning back.

'Hello…' That smile and somewhat naughty look in her eyes that he loved so much sparkled. 'Thank you for asking me round…'

'Frank? Is that…oh, yes.' At that Mavis bustled out from the kitchen, her eyes on the young woman all the way down the hall.

'Good afternoon, Mrs Pike,' Sylvia greeted, just as she'd been taught. 'I've brought this for tea,' she added, holding out a small cake tin.

'Oh, thank you dear.' She was being polite too. 'Do come in.' And she was trying to sound posh.

'Thank you.' As she followed Mavis, Pike couldn't quite believe she was there. No girl had ever set foot in this house, not since his birthday parties as a kid, and he hadn't even really wanted them there…this was different. There was no way on Earth they'd ever be left alone in the house together, but tonight he might imagine they were…

'Oh hello!' Sylvia knew that Sergeant Uncle of his was a different matter. She'd charmed him already. 'Sylvia, my dear, it's so good to see you again, it really is. Frank, why don't you get Sylvia some tea?'

'I was going to!' Pike whispered, slightly put out that he'd told him. 'Sylvia's brought a nice cake,' he continued then, putting it on a plate.

'Oh how lovely!' Wilson exclaimed, just as Mavis asked, 'Did you make it yourself, dear?'

'Yes, well, me and my Mum did,' she replied, still smiling. It was dawning on her that the only way to approach this was to have just the same attitude as Mavis did. 'It's Carrot Cake.'

'I like Carrot Cake,' Pike said then, with a flash of that adorable smile she loved.

'Yes, it's one of your favourites, isn't it?' Wilson asked, trying to let the girl know she'd done something right.

'Well, it's tricky to get right these days,' Sylvia put in, before there could be any comment on it not being the way Mavis did it. 'How do you do it?' she asked, turning the attention away from her.

'Oh, I do it with Bicarbonate of Soda.' In spite of herself, Mavis smiled. 'That's the only way to get it to rise you know, with no eggs.'

'And so you drive…things?' Wilson asked then, putting down his cup.

'Yes. I can fix some of them too!' Pike felt so proud of her.

'Isn't that awfully dirty?' Wilson wasn't sure about young ladies doing that sort of thing. 'Couldn't some of the chaps there do that?'

'Oh they do, but they do their training with us and then they go off somewhere else. We're the ones who deliver things!' she replied proudly.

'That's nice, dear. And you're from Hastings?'

'Yeah – yes. We moved over here not long after we lost my Dad, 'cause Mum didn't have any family there, and she's got my Uncle Bill here.'

The others around the table weren't quite sure that moving to live in the same town as Hodges was any kind of advantage, but let it pass.

'And what did you do before the War?' Mavis continued.

'I was a hairdresser. Always do the girls' hair on camp.'

'Do you know, I thought you'd do something like that,' Wilson said then, interrupting her questioning. 'Your hair suits you so very well, it really does…' He stopped there though, noting the flash of warning that came into Pike's eyes, and remembered himself. Not that he meant anything by it – not the sort of thing any decent chap would do, but…all right. Mavis probably wouldn't like it either...

'I had my hair done the other day,' stated Mavis. 'Don't you remember, Arthur?' The tone implied he'd better had.

'Oh, you did, yes.' He hadn't managed to hold on to her all these years without knowing when to say what. 'And it was really most awfully nice. That little…roll thing…at the front, lovely.'

During this exchange, the younger couple grinned rather self-consciously at one another, and were quite glad when the conversation turned sufficiently for a mollified Mavis to get out a small stack of sponge fingers.

'Would you like some of these?' she asked Sylvia, handing her the plate.

'Oh, thank you, yes please,' Sylvia replied, then stared down at them, trying very hard not to let herself be reminded of a conversation she'd had with Elsie and Jean just before she'd come down.

'You're going to see your Frank again, then?' Elsie asked, fixing her friend with a wicked grin.

'Yeah…can't wait,' Sylvia admitted.

'You're lucky,' Jean added. 'What with Don on the convoys, there's hardly any chance of seeing him!'

'I know,' Sylvia felt sorry for her friend. 'You did get to see him this time though!'

'Yeah…' A faraway look came into Jean's eyes. She'd announced their engagement not long before.

'And…?'

'Did you, then?' Sylvia asked. 'Before he went?'

Jean smiled. 'Well…not exactly…'

'Not exactly?' Elsie seemed to know what she was talking about, but Sylvia didn't.

Jean blushed. 'No, but…his Dad's got an allotment, and a little shed…Don took me down there…'

'Jean Burrows, you naughty girl!' Elsie's eyes sparkled with gossip.

'You didn't though, not everything?' These were Sylvia's best friends. No matter how good she was at making out she knew it all with the lads, they were still a vital source of information when she didn't.

'No, but, well…you know sometimes…men need a hand…?' That she did know. The lads at work didn't stop going on about it. 'Well, sometimes…you can help…'

'And there's other things too…' confided Elsie, flicking her tongue over her finger, held up in front of her, and suddenly Sylvia remembered innocently licking those sweets off. Was that what he thought…did he know that? It didn't seem likely, but…

In any case, she really wasn't going to think about that – but couldn't help a slight blush rising and knew she'd deliberately tease him with it sometime, now she knew what it meant…

'Of course, finding a man who'll return the favour is something else entirely!' Jean laughed, and wouldn't say any more, but gave Sylvia plenty to think about that night…

'Any more tea, dear?'

Slightly guilty, Sylvia was jolted back the present, and smiling for reasons that weren't entirely respectable, accepted another cup of tea. Just as she lifted it to her lips, she caught Pike's eye, and with a little rush of excitement, noticed him blush too, as he noticed the spark in hers.

The rest of the meal passed without incident, and by the end of it, Mavis had to concede that while she still wasn't sure about the girl, she was…quite like her…and she did seem very keen on her boy.

'…and so I made my own!' Pike finished proudly, describing the portable Wireless set he'd made as he walked Sylvia home. She smiled. She knew he had a tendency to show off, and felt rather shown off herself when she was with him, but was a nice feeling.

'Hey, I could make you one!' His eyes lit up at the idea. 'Shall I make you one?'

'Wasn't it hard?' she asked, looking up at him under the brim of her hat, utterly flirting by now.

'No, not really…' Her adoration was making him shy all of a sudden. 'Just got to know what you're doing, that's all.'

'Oh, well then…' She stopped then, turning to face him. 'Not just a pretty face, are you?' She didn't get a chance to say anything else. His hand suddenly grabbed at hers, and she half ran, and was half pulled around a corner, before being kissed with her back to a wall. She felt the rough brick behind her and her breath get short enough to make her dizzy. She looked up at her Frank, and was almost nervous to see his usually pale grey eyes as dark as the sky before a thunderstorm before getting pushed up further and kissed hard. Her hand slid down his back, and she tasted of lipstick and Craven A's. It was only when Sylvia became dimly aware that she couldn't really go any lower and still be out in a semi-public place that, both out of breath at the same time, she was released.

'No.' The glance that met her eyes was the curious mix of slightly shy and somewhat cocky that she'd come to love. 'No, I'm not.'

Pike was still thinking about that kiss a week later. Well, it was almost certain to be more interesting than whatever Mr Mainwaring was about to tell them on Parade one evening, but on this occasion, he was wrong.

'…and so this Platoon has been chosen by Area Command to put forward a representative for the South East Divisional Marksmanship Trophy, to be held at Horse Guards Parade, Home of the Blues and Royals, practically at Buckingham Palace!' the Captain finished triumphantly.

Jones jumped in. 'Permission to speak Sir? I should like to be the Platoon representative for the Trophy, Sir, let me be the representative, I'd enjoy that…'

'Jonesy, Jonesy…' Wilson attempted to calm him down. 'It's a competition, do you see? We can only send one person, and Captain Mainwaring thought the best way to choose would be to practice, on Saturday, over the Range at Peabody Hall.'

'Aye man,' Frazer added, looking at Jones out of the corner of his eye. 'A competition!' The look on his face made it clear that he knew his chances were considerably better than the old butcher's, and maybe the good Captain would be more amenable to discussing promotion with the Platoon's 'Divisional Representative'…

'When is it, Mr Mainwaring?' Pike asked then. This actually sounded good.

'Only two weeks away, on the 16th August.'

'That's my Birthday!' Pike announced excitedly. 'I've got to go then, not fair otherwise!'

'Pike,' Mainwaring glared over at him. 'If that's your attitude, you won't go at all. Now…'

Before he could continue, Godfrey seemed to realise what was going on at last. 'Oh, how nice, Frank, I shall ask Dolly to make you an Upside Down cake…how old?'

'Twenty, thank you Mr Godfrey!'

Mainwaring opened his mouth again, but still wasn't quick enough.

'Do you know, I'll never forget my 20th birthday…' Jones began conversationally, leaning on his rifle. '1890, on the North West Frontier, when we was fighting the Pathans. Well, some of them, there was some we was friendly with, and we had this native guide, and that morning I said to him 'It's my birthday'. Well, you know the Pathans, they don't really understand birthdays, on account of they don't have the education like what we have and they don't keep track, see, but then I said it was a special day, and he understood that. Then he said his old Mum always made something special on occasions such as this, and he'd make it for us. Well, imagine our surprise when we come back to the Cookhouse after being out on Patrol, and on the table was this huge sheep's head, horns, eyeballs an' all, and well, you had to eat it, didn't you? Very proud people, the Pathans, and if you reject their hospitality they take offence, and you will not like it.'

Realising he'd finished, Mainwaring and Wilson slowly got to their feet, having felt the need to sit down about halfway through. Sighing slightly, Mainwaring wished, not for the first time, that he had younger men under his command.

'So…as Sergeant Wilson says, meet here, next Saturday at…' He paused, looking at his watch. 'At nine hundred hours…'

'Well done, Sir, you got it right,' Wilson gave a slight smile. 'You really are getting awfully good at that!'

'At nine hundred hours!' Mainwaring repeated, rather put out. 'And Corporal, you will be responsible for transporting us to Peabody Hall. Now, it's been quite some time since we've gone over the Marksmanship Principles, so I feel we'd all benefit from some refresher training….'