Beauty Chorus, The Read Free Page B

pulled the blanket closer around
him.
    Stella sensed the woman on the bunk opposite watching her, and looked over.
    ‘Good for you, love,’ the woman said. ‘Anything we can do to help these poor wee children …’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Where is your lad Eileen?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ She smoothed her creased skirt. ‘He’s on the Lancasters,’ she said to Stella. She took a deep breath, sat upright. ‘Still, at least
Annie’s nearby. She’s driving ambulances.’
    ‘What about you, love?’ the other woman asked Stella.
    She hesitated. ‘I’m a pilot.’
    ‘No!’ Eileen’s face lit up.
    ‘I’m joining the Air Transport Auxiliary.’ She felt the baby break away from her breast and she lifted him to her shoulder, rubbing his narrow back.
    ‘But women can’t fly planes can they?’ the woman asked.
    ‘Of course they can!’ Eileen folded her arms. ‘What about that Amy Johnson?’
    ‘She’s one of our ATA girls,’ Stella said proudly. The baby burped, pushed back against her collarbone, searching hungrily now.
    ‘There’s a good lad!’ Eileen laughed.
    ‘We’ve just arrived from Singapore. I heard the ATA were taking women pilots, and I wanted to do my bit. Now David is safely in Ireland, I’m joining up tomorrow…
today,’ she corrected herself. She felt Eileen watching her and looked up.
    ‘Your husband would be proud,’ she said.
    Would he? Stella wondered. Or would Richard think she was a fool to risk her own life and leave their child motherless like the baby in her arms. The truth was, she no longer cared if she
lived or died now she had lost him. For months it had felt like she was looking at the world from beneath deep water – everything was muffled, blank, deadened. When she slept, fitfully, she
always hoped tomorrow would be the day she would wake and feel like her old self, but she never did. She woke exhausted, and would lie listening to David’s pitiful cries, not knowing how she
could drag herself from bed and survive another day. Each time she admitted this to herself she was overcome with guilt. David still needed her – or did he? Perhaps he would be safer and
happier on the farm with dear, dependable Sarah and George. That’s what she had told herself a thousand times – that he was better off without her.
    From outside, the wail of the ‘all clear’ siren cut through the dank cold air, and people began to stir. In a lifetime spent overseas, she had always longed to visit England, always
imagined she would feel at home. But everything was alien to her. Today was the first day of her new life. She had shed her skins. She was not a wife, not a mother any more. Who was she? Was this
country that she had never set foot in before meant to be her homeland, with its blacked-out windows and sinister balloon-filled skies? Stella scanned the faces of the grey-skinned people in their
greasy coats as they crowded towards the door and felt more alone than she had in her entire life.
    She had no idea how many people trailed past as she stroked the baby’s fragile skull, her fingertips tracing the soft down of his hair. She imagined the thousands of men, women and
children stirring across London in Tube stations and basements, emerging to face another uncertain day. Sated, the baby finally released his grip on her blouse and fell back into a deep, relieved
sleep. His tiny fingers extended, waved liked the fronds of a sea anemone. She looked down at his face – perfect, unblemished. ‘Sleep well, sunny Jim,’ she whispered as she handed
him to Eileen.
    She stood, stretched out the cold and ache of her limbs and buttoned her coat.
    Eileen caught at her fingers. ‘Thank you, love, you might just have saved this little lad’s life.’ Wordlessly, Stella squeezed her hand.
    Pale winter sun rose over London. Stella scrambled from the shelter, shielding her eyes. Oxford Street was deserted, silent, its pavements glistening, encrusted with shattered
glass like