Thank you for all your kind reviews. I really appreciate your comments. This will be the last update before Christmas as it places demands on us all. More updates will follow as soon as possible. I wish you all a very happy and peaceful Christmas.


Chapter Seven

"Are you coming to the dance, Skip?" Kinders asked on Wednesday evening when the crew were all assembled at The White Horse. James pulled a pained expression. He seemed to be reluctant to commit himself.

"Well, I'm not really the best dancer so I wouldn't want to impose myself on any unsuspecting young lady. Although," he looked around him, "I might go on one condition." He left a dramatic pause.

"What's that, Skip?" Nuttall asked.

"If I could find a female volunteer brave enough to dance with me." He looked around him and saw Molly standing close by next to Smithy. He beamed at her and exclaimed brightly, "Dawes. How kind of you!"

Molly turned her head. "Sir?"

"It looks like the Skip has just engaged you for the first dance, Molly," Smithy answered laughing aloud although he had to fight hard to hide his disappointment because he had secretly been hoping to ask her himself.

Molly hadn't been paying attention to what had been said because she had been distracted by the sight of Hattie sitting outside the pub when they had arrived. The child had a large bruise across her cheekbone. Molly was certain it couldn't have been an accident. As she had entered the pub Hattie's Dad, Bill, had been coming out the other way. On recognising her he glared and pushed past. She had wanted to speak to Hattie but he was standing next to her and she didn't dare to do so when he was nearby. The whole time she had been in the pub she had been waiting and watching what was going on. Bill seemed to be moving around chatting quietly to a few people from the station. She didn't know the people and so catching Smithy's eye asked, "Who's that corporal talking to Bill Tyler?"

Smithy raised his eyebrows. "Didn't know you knew Tyler?"

Molly said quietly, "We've met once and he doesn't really like me."

She saw that Smithy was amused by this. "Bit of a habit with you, isn't it, Molly?"

Molly was irritated, "Stop joking, Smithy, who's the Corporal he's with?"

Smithy stared across the bar. "Harrison from Stores, I think!"

Molly was bothered by this news. Pieces of a jigsaw were beginning to come together. She needed to get some fresh air and making excuses about having a headache made her way outside.

Hattie was still sitting by the front door of the pub even though the light was fading. No one else was outside and seeing Bill busy indoors, Molly approached her.

"Hello, Hattie." The child looked wary. "What happened to your face?" Molly asked in as mild a tone as she could muster even though she was burning to know the answer.

Hattie looked down at her feet and seemed reluctant to speak. Molly answered for her, "Did your Dad do that?" She saw a tear escape from Hattie's eye and roll down her cheek.

"He said it was my fault."

"What about?" Molly couldn't imagine what she meant.

"That you followed me. He was angry about it."

Molly was incensed. "You mean he hit you because I spoke to him?"

The girl nodded and looked as though she might start crying properly at any moment. "I was supposed to run and tell him if anyone was coming."

The truth began to dawn on Molly. "You were being a look out?"

Hattie nodded.

"Is that what you're doing now?" she asked.

She nodded again, "Got to run in and tell him if the Coppers turn up."

Molly had known the first time she saw Bill Tyler that he was a spiv and Hattie was confirming this. Jackie had suspected he was up to no good but she'd referred to it as being 'a bit of a business man'. Supplying a few highly sought after items like lipstick might not be a crime even if it did exploit the vanity of some women, but who knew what else he could be doing that was a crime. From what Hattie had just said, it seemed as if Bill certainly thought there was a danger of the Police turning up. He was hanging around here several nights of the week talking to station personnel and who knows where else he went. East Anglia, Suffolk, Cambridgeshire and Lincolnshire were littered with RAF and USAAF bases. Hattie had said they never stayed anywhere very long and she'd talked about them going to London. Molly was angry. What kind of life could a man like Bill Tyler give a child like Hattie who should be going to school, playing with friends, having a proper home life and being cared for not used as a spiv's look-out and dragged around the country at his beck and call?

The door of the pub opened and the noise from within disturbed Molly from her thoughts. She saw Harrison, the man Smithy had earlier identified, leaving the pub and making his way back up the lane towards the station. Hattie also watched him leave and then glanced up at Molly. She didn't say anything but Molly was sure that Harrison was involved somehow. Hattie stood up.

"Dad'll be out in a minute."

Molly wanted to hug her. It all seemed so unfair. "Keep your chin up," she said trying to smile at her reassuringly but the words felt empty.

Not wanting to get Hattie into any more trouble, she slipped back into the pub. She couldn't see Bill Tyler anywhere so moved back over to where Smithy and his crew were standing. They stayed in the pub for another hour before deciding to make their way back to the base. The crew had been lively and chatty and full of jokes tonight. Even Flight Lieutenant James was in a more outgoing mood. Only Molly was quiet and lost in thought.

Molly and Jackie walked back to the base with Charlie's crew. Nuttall and Mansfield, fuelled by a few beers, were singing 'Knees up Mother Brown' and trying to dance as they walked. Molly didn't notice some of the unorthodox verses thrown in even when Jackie called out, "Excuse me, ladies present!"

Smithy had fallen in step with Molly towards the rear of the group. Flight Lieutenant James, without his car tonight, was walking a little way ahead of them.

"You're very quiet tonight, Molly," Smithy said.

"Sorry, I've got things on my mind."

"You don't want to do that. That sounds like hard work," Smithy joked.

"Serious things, Smithy."

He turned his head to look at her. "Would it help if you told me?" He hesitated and then added, "I told you I'd make it up to you for what I did before and I meant it."

She could hear in his voice that he was genuine. Molly knew that she would keep on worrying about everything if she didn't confide in someone and Smithy was willing to listen. She lowered her voice.

"It's about Hattie and her father. I think he's dealing on the black market and using contacts, like Harrison, at airbases everywhere. He's got a hidden lock-up store. I saw it the other day. He's using Hattie as a look-out. He hit her the other day because she didn't stop me finding his lock-up. She shouldn't be treated like that. She's the same age as my sister. What do you think I should do?" It was a relief to tell someone else. They walked in silence for a while.

In the end Smithy said, "We should talk to the Skipper, he'll know what to do."

James had been caught between the two groups walking back to the base. Nuttall, Mansfield and Fingerson were clearly a few sheets to the wind and having a good time. He'd have to make sure they calmed down before they reached the main gate or they'd find themselves in the Guard Room on a charge. Jackie, Kinders and Berry were walking a just behind them at a more sedate pace, talking amicably. Behind him Smithy and Dawes seemed to be thick as thieves, voices lowered so he couldn't make out what was being said. Smithy had only returned on Monday but already he and Dawes seemed to have picked up where they left off, although he still wasn't sure quite how the land lay between them. He thought that Smithy had taken a shine to Dawes but her feelings couldn't be so easily read. She seemed to humour him and to be friendly but he didn't know what it meant if anything. He was startled from his thoughts by Smithy calling out, "Skipper!"

He turned to look back. Dawes and Smithy had stopped in the road. Smithy beckoned to him and he walked back towards them.

"What's the matter, Smithy?"

"Molly's got a problem. We thought you might know what to do about it," Smithy said.

The voices of Jackie and the rest of the crew continued to move further away from them. James was intrigued. He certainly hadn't been expecting this.

"Spit it out, then, Dawes," he encouraged.

Molly took a deep breath and then recounted the events of the last two days. At the end of her account, she asked simply, "What do you think I should do, Sir?"

James took a deep breath. She had no real proof that anything wrong had taken place only the word of the girl.

"Do you believe this girl, Hattie?"

Molly looked up at him. In the moonlight he could see the anxious expression on her face as she replied, "She was definitely upset. Her dad hit her because I followed her. He must be hiding something but it's not right for a child to live like that or for people like him to be making money out of this war. Why are you risking your lives flying bombing raids so that people like him can make a fortune and why isn't he in uniform himself?"

She appeared to have run on more than she had intended as she came to an abrupt halt almost as if suddenly conscious of saying too much. James could see that when Dawes was passionate about something she was a force to be reckoned with.

On Molly's last point, Smithy said cynically, "Bet he paid someone to fail the medical for him, that's what his type do."

They all knew that some medically unfit men were making a small fortune by impersonating those called up but unwilling to serve.

"We don't know that, Smithy," James said reasonably and turning his attention to Dawes continued, "Leave it with me overnight, I'll speak to you both tomorrow, when I've had time to think about it."

There seemed nothing more to say so the three of them walked back to the base in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Thankfully, by the time they reached the main gate they found that Nuttall and Mansfield seemed to have passed through without mishap. Beyond the gate, they said goodnight and each went their separate ways back to their quarters.

ooOoo

James sought out Smithy soon after breakfast and together they went to find Molly in the workshop on the far side of the aerodrome. Now that Molly was very much in favour Corporal Barker did not object to her being 'borrowed' for a quick chat.

"I think we have no option than to go to the RAF Police," James advised. "They can investigate if they think anything untoward is happening and talk with the civilian police if necessary. I think it's the only option."

Molly knew that he was right but she began to feel very concerned about Hattie. She had been so indignant about the fact that her father had hit her and she was being used by him that she hadn't stopped to think what might happen to the girl. She spoke now.

"What do you think will happen to Hattie, Sir? I mean, if her dad's been up to no good?"

James shrugged his shoulders, "We can't worry about that, it's not our job to decide. All we can do is report that we think a crime is being committed."

Molly's heart sank at his words and she began to worry even more that she might be setting the wheels in motion on something beyond her control. Nevertheless, she agreed to go to the RAF Police station and when she had finished giving her account to the RAF Police Sergeant, he thanked her and then said that they would speak to her again, if they needed any more information. There was nothing more she could do. Flight Lieutenant James had added bits of information where necessary but the chief of the evidence appeared to hinge on Molly's account of what had transpired between herself and Hattie and finding her father at the hidden lock-up. After they had left the building, Molly still felt anxious and it showed in her face.

Looking down at her, James could see that she was genuinely concerned. "You've done the right thing. Try not to think about it too much." He tried to sound reassuring but he could see that she was going to carry on worrying no matter what he said and added, "You've just got to try your best not to get involved."

"Yes, but I have, haven't I?" she replied anxiously, "And what happens now will be down to me."

She looked so miserable and there was so little he could say. He sighed resignedly and said gently, "Buzz off, Dawsey and get back to work!"

He saw a small change of expression on her face. She was surprised but she said nothing. He watched her mount her bicycle and begin the ride back to the other side of the aerodrome before wandering off to the Officer's mess to get a drink before lunch. Dawsey he thought to himself. How had that slipped out? He shook his head and muttered under his breath, "Take your own advice, James!"

ooOoo

Nothing happened for the rest of the day. Molly tried to busy herself in her work and to some extent succeeded. The repairs were going well and it looked as though the squadron would be up to strength again by the start of next week. This news produced mixed feelings in her. Getting the aeroplane ready for operations was her chief purpose but now that meant sending a crew that she knew and cared about back into danger. She tried to tell herself, that if she did her work properly she was helping to make their flight safer, making sure that the aeroplane wouldn't fail them, but the greatest danger lay from forces beyond her control.

It was early on Friday afternoon that the RAF police sergeant came to find her in the workshop. His presence, unsurprisingly, provoked a lot of interest from those around including Corporal Baker who enquired suspiciously, "What have you been up to now, Dawes?"

The RAF sergeant spoke to him and asked if Molly could be released for a couple of hours as her help was required. Molly could tell Barker was desperate to know what the matter concerned but couldn't ask and the Sergeant was not about to discuss it with him. He had no option but to let her go.

"Why do you need me, Sergeant?" was her first question as they left the workshop.

"We need you to show us where you found the lock up. It seems as if Tyler's known by the civilian police and the MP's at a few of the American bases near here. He's been acting as a middle man, receiving the stolen goods from military stores and passing them on for sale to retailers."

They drove down to Banfield and met a civilian police inspector in the village. Molly directed them to the cottages and then led them up the lane and beyond to the track at the back, eventually locating the hidden lock-up. The door stood open. Predictably, it was empty. Only a few discarded wrappers and sacks could be found although one of them conveniently stated, 'Property of USAAF' which seemed damning enough by itself.

As they walked back to the cars, the inspector said conversationally to the Sergeant, "We raided his lodgings at lunchtime but he'd scarpered. Only thing is, he left his daughter behind!"

Molly looked up sharply. "He left Hattie?"

The inspector regarded her keenly, "Yes, I don't suppose he thought dragging a kid along with him while he was on the run, would be a very good idea."

"Where is she?" she asked

"Just waiting for the welfare lady from the council to collect her. She's sitting in the car over there with a WPC." He motioned to a police car on the far side of the green.

"What's going to happen to her?"

"I don't know," the inspector admitted. "That's for the council to decide but she'll probably go to an orphanage if there's space somewhere."

Molly's heart sank. "Can I speak to her?"

He nodded, "Just for a couple of minutes."

Molly walked across to the car. She could see Hattie sitting in the back, hunched over and looking miserable. She had been crying and Molly felt terrible. The inspector spoke to the WPC and then Molly opened the back door. Hattie turned to look at her.

"My Dad's gone!" she said.

"I know. I'm so sorry," Molly replied.

"It's because of what you said."

It wasn't an accusation but the girl nevertheless turned away and refused to look at Molly again and her misery was complete.

Molly returned to the station in the sergeant's car. When she arrived back, she found Flight Lieutenant James waiting. He'd run into one of the inspectors in the mess who'd informed him of events. It had been his idea to go to the RAF Police in the first place and he felt a responsibility for what had happened.

"How did it go?" he asked genuinely concerned.

Molly recounted the events and he listened in silence. He could tell she was troubled by the way things had turned out for Hattie.

"What do you think will happen to her, Sir, if she ends up living in an orphanage?"

He wanted to sound calm and reassuring. "She'll be cared for, fed, go to school and she won't get dragged into a life of crime. That has to be better than the life she was living. Don't blame yourself. It sounds like the police were going to catch up with Tyler at some point anyway. You just made it happen a bit sooner."

Molly knew he was right and she appreciated his kindness but she felt low spirited.

He tried to brighten the mood. "Don't forget the dance tonight. I'm relying on you, Dawes. I need to know there's at least one partner I can trust not to laugh!"

His self-deprecating humour amused her and in spite of herself she smiled weakly and replied, "You can rely on me, Sir, completely."

It was only much later when she had safely reached her quarters and was finally alone that the tears began to fall. She couldn't help feeling that, in spite of her good intentions, she had just made everything ten times worse for Hattie

ooOoo

Jackie could tell that Molly had been crying when she returned to their quarters at the end of her duty shift but she didn't pry. Instead, she took Molly firmly by the hand, pushed her towards the ablutions and told her to, "Smarten yourself up, do your hair and paint on a smile," whilst handing her the highly prized lipstick. The irony wasn't lost on Molly and she almost burst into tears again at the sight of it but she remembered the Flight Lieutenant's words about not getting involved and realised that the only way forward from here was to try to put the events to the back of her mind.

When Molly entered the Sergeants Mess hall where the dance was being held, it had already been in full swing for over an hour. It had taken her longer to get ready than she had expected partly because she had almost changed her mind again about going and had to be cajoled by Jackie. The thought of the promise she had made to Flight Lieutenant James was also in her mind. She didn't want him to think badly of her. An attempt had been made to transform the mess hall with the addition of some bunting which looked like it had last seen service for the Coronation in 1937. At one end of the hall a small stage had been erected on which a band consisting of a pianist, trumpet player, clarinettist, drummer and double bass player were located. Tables had been pushed back to make a dance floor and beer and soft drinks were being served from the kitchen hatch. Couples were moving around on the tightly packed dance floor and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Molly had to admit that the band, who were playing a lively swing number, were surprisingly good. Couples were attempting to jitterbug with varying degrees of success in the limited space but with lots of good humour.

She had only walked a few paces into the room when she was accosted by Smithy.

"Where have you been? We thought you'd got lost!"

He looked very pleased to see her. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled but couldn't bring herself to talk about what had happened that afternoon.

Across the room she caught sight of Flight Lieutenant James, a beer glass in hand, standing, chatting with another pilot. He glanced in her direction and catching sight of her smiled. She saw him make his excuses to his companion, put down his beer glass and walk towards her. As he approached he said, "Sorry to cut in, Smithy, but I think this young lady agreed to take pity on me and escort me around the dance floor."

His face was serious but Molly could detect a twinkle of amusement in his eyes and with a small glow of pride she noted the way he had called her a 'young lady' rather than 'Dawes' or worse still, 'Aircraftwoman'.

Smithy looked disappointed but stood back to make way for his Skipper. "How about the next dance then, Molly?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, alright," she agreed, feeling sorry for him.

The band had just finished the swing tune and the dancers were applauding. Molly was glad she hadn't arrived a few minutes earlier or she might have had the mortifying experience of trying to jitterbug with Flight Lieutenant James which, given his professed lack of skill, could have been very embarrassing. James held out his hand to her. "Shall we?"

She took his hand and as their fingers touched she felt an inexplicable tingle of anticipation run through her. On the stage a WAAF Corporal driver, whom Molly had seen around the station and recognised by sight, stepped forward to the microphone. The band struck up the introduction to a smooth ballad which Molly recognised as 'I know why'. It was a tune she loved. She had heard The Glenn Miller Band record played endlessly on the wireless last year and knew every word and note.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor James opened his arms, Molly gave him her right hand and he encircled her with his right arm, placing his hand gently in the small of her back. Placing her left hand lightly on his shoulder, they began to move around the floor and she soon realised that, in spite of his protestations to the contrary, he was in fact a very good dancer. She said nothing but the thought of him making up an excuse to dance with her made her smile to herself. She was very conscious of being close to him and the increasing pressure of his hand on her back. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it but wondered if he was holding her a little closer than was really necessary and his head seemed to be moving ever nearer to hers.

The musical introduction drew to a close and the WAAF Corporal started to sing in a strong, rich alto. She had a good voice and it was a pleasure to move around the room listening to the lilting melody. As they danced Molly became conscious that James was softly humming the tune and after a few more moments she was certain she could hear him singing along very quietly in a tuneful tenor voice, "When you dance with me…..I'm in heaven when the music begins."

Perhaps it was the tension of the moment, the consciousness of his physical presence or a moment of awkwardness but Molly couldn't help saying quietly, "You're singing, Sir!"

He moved his head back a fraction and looked down at her. "Sorry, it's a nervous habit."

She looked directly into his eyes and saw a serious look there.

"Are you nervous?" she asked gently.

"Well, it's the dancing," he said dismissively and rather too quickly, adding with a smile, "Do you sing, Dawes?"

She spoke without thinking, "Only in the bath or when I'm really happy."

She was glad the lights had been dimmed because making mention of herself in the bath to him had made her blush. To cover her embarrassment she added rapidly, "Mind you four inches of tepid water don't usually cheer me up very much!"

James laughed softly. She always seemed to have the ability to make him laugh. He moved a little closer to her and they carried on dancing, both feeling more comfortable in each other's arms. James was singing softly again, "And why do I see rainbows…..when you're in my arms…..I know why and so do you."

The song ended. They automatically moved apart and politely applauded the singer and the band but both of them were unsettled. Molly was slightly bewildered. Dancing with Flight Lieutenant James had awoken something in her that she hadn't realised until the moment he had taken her hand. James was struggling too as emotions had come to the surface that he'd tried to hold at bay. He glanced at her and seeing her beautiful green eyes gazing back at him with an expression that spoke volumes to him, knew he was seriously in danger and another dance would just about make him a lost cause. With great effort he slipped on the emotional mask that had served him so well until now and smiled at her, every inch the Skipper of 'C for Charlie' again.

"Well, thank you, Dawes. It was delightful!" He looked across the room to see Smithy watching them and waiting patiently for Molly to return and remarked, "I think you're going to be in demand."

He politely guided her from the dance floor and towards her next dance partner declaring with a nod in his Flight Engineer's direction, "All yours, Smithy!"

He turned quickly away from Molly and melted into the crowd. Molly watched his back disappearing into the distance and saw him leave the hall. She was confused about what had just happened but she knew, at least for her, that something had happened. For a moment on the dance floor she thought she had glimpsed something beyond the authoritative, military figure that James normally cut. She thought that just for a few brief minutes as they had danced she had seen a young man wanting to show a young woman that he liked her. However, she had no time to dwell any further on these thoughts as Smithy, not wanting to wait any longer, enthusiastically grabbed her by the hand and called, "Come on, Molly, let's show them how it's done!" as he guided her to the centre of the dance floor with every intention of dancing with her for the rest of the evening.

ooOoo

James left the mess hall and stood outside in the cooler air near the entrance. It was a beautiful clear night. The moon was almost full and very bright; a bomber's moon he reflected. They were fortunate not to be on Ops tonight.

He took a deep breath and sought to bring his feelings under control. When he thought Dawes wasn't going to show up during the first hour he had felt deflated but the moment she had appeared in the room everything had changed. He didn't know why he'd made up the story about his poor dancing to compel Dawes to dance with him. Perhaps he had just been too nervous to come straight out with the request. He knew that she hadn't been fooled but she'd had the good grace not to remark on it. Now he knew it was a good job that he'd had the sense to leave when the dance with her was over. Seeing Smithy's face afterwards had made him realise that had he stayed in the room he would have had to endure a long night of watching her dance with other men and he didn't think he could bear it.

He shook his head at himself and smiled ruefully. This wouldn't do. He'd almost lost himself just now and forgotten where he was. He told himself it was not the time and place to think about anything like this. He had a duty and responsibility to his crew and he needed to concentrate on getting all of them to the end of their thirty missions. Whatever his feelings might be, and he couldn't deny anymore that they existed, he knew it was wrong to think of any life beyond the end of the tour.