“I would like to see the girl they designed this uniform to fit,” Eve said. She sat on the bed across from Audrey as they sewed. “She would have to be six feet tall, with arms like a chimpanzee and a huge bosom. One size does not fit all!”
“It’s such an ugly uniform too,” Audrey said with a sigh. “What are all these pleated pockets for? And the belted jacket makes everyone’s bottom look enormous. We should have joined the Wrens. The famous fashion designer Edward Molyneux designed their uniforms.”
“Spoken like a true aristocrat! You obviously never had to wear a scullery maid’s uniform. Believe me, this is a huge improvement.”
“I can’t help who I am, Eve. You don’t have to rub it in.” She sucked her injured finger, still oozing blood.
“You can still change your mind about enlisting, you know. I don’t think it’s too late. Joining up was my idea, not yours.”
Everything in Audrey longed to quit, but Mother’s taunting voice—“Oh, for pity’s sake, Audrey”—strengthened her resolve. She vowed to continue, to measure up to the standards expected of her, just as she’d been doing all her life. They weren’t Mother’s expectations that she must live up to now, but her nation’s. And Audrey also longed to please God. “I’m not going to quit,” she replied. She would stow away her personality and individuality for the duration of the war and become like everyone else, right down to her Army-issue toothbrush and hairbrush. She resumed sewing.
One of Audrey’s biggest tormentors, a loudmouthed girl named Irene who didn’t seem interested in making her uniform fit, roamed the room looking at the framed photographs on the other girls’ lockers. Audrey bristled when Irene picked up Alfie’s photo. She was about to ask her politely to put it down when Eve kicked her foot, then held a finger to her lips.
“Hey, have a look at this, girls,” the bully said to the others. “Tweedledee and Tweedledum over here share the same boyfriend!” Everyone looked up as if something interesting was about to happen.
“Handsome fellow, isn’t he?” Eve said calmly. She continued to sew.
“He sure is!” Irene replied. “I wonder how many other girls have his picture. Maybe I could get one.” She got what she was after—mocking laughter.
Eve kept her voice even. “Look a little closer, Irene. He could be Audrey’s twin, right? He’s her brother—and my boyfriend.”
“You’re having me on! You’re never stepping out with the posh girl’s brother!”
“Cross my heart and hope to die if I’m lying,” she said, making the sign over her chest.
“Didn’t your mum warn you that the gentry’s sons want only one thing from girls like us? And it isn’t marriage.” There was more laughter.
Eve didn’t seem perturbed. “Think whatever you like,” she replied. “I know the truth.”
Irene stared at the pictures for another moment, then seemed to lose interest. She set them down none too gently and moved on to her next victim. Audrey released the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
Eve slid off her own bed and stood over Audrey. “You okay?” she asked.
“I suppose. Although I’m not getting anywhere with this sewing. I keep knotting the thread.”
“Let me,” Eve said, taking it. “I’ll finish your sewing if you polish my shoes.”
“Thanks.” Audrey found it much easier to polish shoes than to try to sew. “How did you learn to handle the taunting?” she asked Eve.
“The boys in school used to torment us girls all the time. I learned that if I didn’t react, they’d lose interest.” She snipped the sewing thread with her teeth, then added, “And the ones who didn’t lose interest found out that I could hold my own in a brawl.”
Audrey smiled. “You’re my hero, Eve.”
“Listen,” she said, leaning closer to whisper. “I know how you can win over Irene and all the other bullies.”
“How?”
“I’m told our pay packets come with a chit for cigarettes from the canteen. You don’t smoke but Irene does.”
The tiny measure of power helped Audrey sleep soundly that night.
She rose early the next morning for a day that began like all the rest, scrambling to get everything in order for “kit parade.” She must lay out her belongings on her properly made bed, the blanket folded just so, jacket buttons and shoes polished to a shine. Audrey stood at attention at the foot of her bed, not daring to move, praying she would pass inspection. Failure meant scrubbing the latrine floor on hands and knees. With Eve’s help, Audrey always passed. After inspection, they quick-marched to the parade ground to practice drilling until the sergeant major was satisfied. Audrey couldn’t see the point of inspections or understand how she could serve her country by marching in perfect squares. “Are we ever going to start driving?” she whispered to Eve as a misty rain began to fall.