When the Lights Go On Again. Annie Groves

than one occasion on which Katie’s face had burned with indignation and anger over the way she had heard American servicemen describing British girls, although to be fair she had to admit that the behaviour of some girls did leave a lot to be desired.

      At night the streets round Piccadilly were filled with girls offering GIs ‘a good time’; couples openly having sex in doorways and whatever dark corner they could find, with the result that used condoms littered the streets, whilst, according to the authorities, venereal diseases were on the rise.

      All this was to be deplored, and it was strictly forbidden for the young women who were judged suitable to work at Rainbow Corner to get involved in relationships with the Americans they met there.

      Of course, there were girls who broke that rule, although Katie wasn’t one of them. Not that the young GIs hadn’t tried to date her – they had. Katie, though, always refused. She didn’t want to get involved – with anyone.

      A sudden influx of young airmen brought an end to her introspection.

      ‘Boy, oh boy, it smells good in here,’ one of them remarked enthusiastically, breathing in appreciatively. ‘Coffee, doughnuts and hamburgers, Home sweet American Home.’

      They’d arrived on one of the special trains put on to ferry American servicemen from their bases into London for their weekends off, and they were keen to let Katie know how they planned to spend their weekend.

      ‘Girls, girls and more girls – that’s what we want, isn’t it, guys?’ the one who was obviously the leader informed Katie, looking round at the others.

      ‘Sure is,’ they agreed in unison.

      ‘I’m afraid we can’t help you there,’ Katie responded lightly, ‘but if you’d like a map of London, or directions to anywhere…’

      ‘Yeah, we’ll have some directions to the nearest cat house,’ one of the men grinned.

      Katie suspected that they’d already been drinking, but she didn’t really want to get them into trouble by calling for assistance. American GIs were meant to respect Rainbow Corner as though it were their home and occupied by their mother.

      ‘Why don’t you boys go and get yourselves a Coke and make yourselves at home?’ Katie suggested.

      ‘That ain’t what we’ve got in mind,’ drawled the one who had first spoken, leaning on the counter, breathing alcohol fumes in Katie’s direction, while the others gathered round him. ‘How about obliging us yourself? We don’t mind taking it in turns, do we, guys?’

      Some more men had walked in and had obviously overheard the comment. One of them – an officer, Katie guessed from the insignia on his uniform – walked over to the desk with a grim expression and announced curtly, ‘We don’t treat the kind folks, who are good enough to give up their free time to make us welcome, like that, Soldier, and I suggest you apologise to the lady right now, otherwise I’m gonna be calling the MPs.’

      One look at the officer had an immediate sobering effect on the small group.

      ‘Yessss, sir,’ the culprit stammered as he stood up straight and saluted, a shamed-faced, ‘Sorry, ma’am,’ crossing the desk, before, to Katie’s relief, the young men disappeared at some speed, into the club.

      ‘Thank you for that,’ she told her rescuer.

      He shook his head, his mouth tightening into a grim line.

      ‘You shouldn’t have had to thank me,’ he told her bluntly. ‘Do you get much of that kind of behaviour?’

      ‘No,’ Katie told him truthfully.

      ‘I’m afraid that some of these young idiots try to treat this country as though they’re an invading force, not its ally,’ the officer commented.

      Katie smiled but didn’t say anything. What he had said was, after all, true.

      A younger officer came hurrying in saluting her rescuer.

      ‘The general’s car has arrived, sir.’

      ‘I’ll be right with you,’ Katie’s rescuer answered him, looking back at her. ‘I’m sorry you had to put up with those young fools,’ he told her before turning on his heel to leave the building.

      ‘Wow, who was he?’ the other girl on the reception desk, who had been taking her break, demanded as she reappeared just in time to see Katie’s rescuer disappearing.

      ‘I don’t know,’ Katie answered.

      ‘Looked more like he should be mixing with the top brass at the American Embassy than coming here. That was a major’s insignia he was wearing.’

      

      It was obviously one of those nights, Katie reflected later when she arrived back at the billet she shared with four ATS girls in Cadogan Square, to find Peggy Groves, the most sensible and senior of the young women, waiting anxiously in the kitchen, twisting her engagement ring round on her finger. Katie noticed her khaki uniform skirt was looser on the waist than it had been. Thanks to rationing, they were all quite literally having to ‘pull their belts’ in.

      ‘I’m waiting for Gerry to come in. I’ve decided that it’s time I had a word with her about the way she’s behaving. For her own sake, not just because it reflects on all of us.’ An anxious frown was creasing Peggy’s forehead. ‘I was working late at the War Office this evening and when I got back the retired colonel from three doors down collared me to complain about what he referred to as “our goings-on”.’

      Peggy lit up a cigarette and drew deeply on it, the light from the kitchen’s ugly single bulb shining on her dark auburn hair. ‘If word of Gerry’s behaviour gets to Lord Cadogan’s ears, we could all end up looking for a new billet, and I can’t say that I would blame him. I know that Gerry’s always been a bit on the wild side and that she’s been through a hell of a lot, losing both her brothers this summer.’ Peggy gave a shudder and stubbed out her cigarette. ‘It’s the kind of news we all dread getting.’

      Katie nodded. Gerry’s brothers had both been pilots with Bomber Command and everyone knew that the death rate amongst those who flew bombing missions to Germany was very high – higher than that amongst fighter pilots.

      ‘We’ve all tried to give her a bit of leeway and cut her some slack,’ Peggy continued. ‘If there’s one thing this war has taught me it’s not to judge others. Gerry isn’t the first girl to throw herself into living life to the full, with all that that means, following the death of someone close, and it’s not for me to stand in moral judgement on her. She’s a decent sort at heart, but she can’t keep carrying on the way she is doing, drinking too much and sleeping around with as many men as possible, coming in at all hours, and in the state she does, with torn stockings and her clothes not fastened properly.’

      Katie knew what Peggy meant. They were all aware of the change the deaths of her brothers had caused in Gerry. Before, she had spoken openly about the fact that she liked a bit of fun, but now there was a desperation about her behaviour that worried them all.

      ‘Do you want some cocoa?’ Katie asked, going to fill the kettle.

      Peggy nodded, and then frowned again as they heard someone knocking on the front door.

      Without saying anything they hurried into the hallway, automatically switching off the lights as they did so, so as not to break the blackout laws.

      When Peggy opened the door, Katie could see a couple of GIs supporting Gerry between them, a taxi with another GI standing beside it waiting at the kerb with its meter ticking.

      ‘Get a move on, you guys,’ the GI standing beside the taxi urged them. ‘We don’t want the MPs catching up with us again.’

      His warning of the possible arrival of the Military Police was enough to have the two GIs let go of Gerry, who would have fallen headlong into the hallway if Katie and Peggy hadn’t caught her. She smelled of whisky, and something else – a