Blinking as they stepped back out into the open air, Mairi grinned at Flora. ‘We did it!’ They watched for a moment as out on the parade ground, Bridie appeared to be making headway with her driving, too, negotiating the oil drums without sending them rolling in all directions now. ‘Looks like she might be joining us soon. And there’s Hut Eight.’ She pointed to the row of newly constructed buildings at one side of the small bay.
The toot of a horn made them look round. A car had pulled into the camp, and a uniformed figure waved to attract their attention.
‘It’s Alec!’ Flora exclaimed, joy brightening her face like sunlight on water.
He strode towards them, arms outstretched. ‘Flora, Mairi, have you joined up? That’s wonderful news! I’m glad I’ve run into you because I have something to tell you, too. I’m being assigned to duties here, helping to commission the port. We’re needing a good signalman and I’ve suggested Ruaridh, since he knows the lie of the land and every inch of the loch like the back of his hand. It’s not definite yet, but I’m hoping he’ll be transferred.’
The surge of hope in her heart was so powerful that Flora couldn’t speak.
Alec smiled down at her. ‘Wouldn’t that be something? All of us back here together, just like old times? He might even be home in time for Christmas.’
‘That would be the very best news possible,’ Flora replied, finding her voice again. ‘Having Ruaridh back. And you, too, Alec. Thank goodness you weren’t one of those hurt when the Nelson was blown up.’
Against the grey of the sky and the waters beneath it, her face and hair glowed, lit by her smile. Alec glanced down at the toes of his boots, apparently self-conscious all of a sudden, his usual easy confidence deserting him. But then he raised his eyes to hers again and plucked up the courage to say, ‘There’s to be a dance at the hall on Hogmanay. Will the two of you be going? I could come and pick you up, if you like.’
Flora hesitated. ‘Will Diana be coming up for it?’ she asked, keeping her voice light.
Alec’s eyes went back to his boots and his face flushed slightly. He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid to say Miss Kingsley-Scott has broken off our engagement. She’s met someone else in London, someone rather more important than a mere sub-lieutenant assigned to the sticks.’
Flora tucked a stray strand of hair back into her braid. ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that.’ Her words belied the rush of relief she felt. She was a little surprised at the strength of that feeling, but told herself it was just that Alec surely deserved someone with a bit more warmth about her. She and Mairi exchanged a glance, and Mairi nodded. ‘The dance would be grand. Thank you. And Alec—’ Flora broke off, trying to find the words, overcome with emotion once again. Had to make do with a simple, ‘Thank you for recommending Ruaridh, too. It’ll be good to have the pair of you safely back on dry land.’
He saluted them smartly, then turned on his heel and marched off to report to his commanding officer, only once turning back to glance over his shoulder at the girls as they made their way across to the other side of the camp to collect their uniforms.
On New Year’s Eve the hall filled up rapidly as more and more of the men arrived, having stopped off at the bar in the Aultbea Hotel for a pint or two, shouting greetings and slapping the backs of their shipmates. There were some faces that Flora recognised from the camp and many others who were strangers, recently returned from duties out at sea.
Alec had very gallantly collected Flora, Mairi and Bridie for the Hogmanay dance and driven them to the hall, preserving their newly waved hairdos and carefully pressed skirts. He found them chairs and brought them drinks, introducing them to some of his fellow officers. A small band began to tune up at the far end of the hall, the notes of a fiddle rising above the hubbub of voices.
Flora’s face lit up at the sight of her brother entering the hall with a girl on his arm. So that’s where he’d disappeared off to earlier; she’d thought he must be heading for the hotel, whose recently rechristened ‘Jellyjar Tavern’ had become a popular gathering place for naval personnel. The jelly and jam jars in question had been pressed into use when the hotel had run out of glasses, to satisfy the increase in demand from thirsty soldiers and sailors, so the men had begun bringing whatever they could lay their hands on to be filled with beer. Ruaridh had told her that one especially enterprising sub-lieutenant had managed to persuade Miss Cameron, the postmistress, to part with one of the large sweetie jars that were now sitting empty on the shelf in her shop since sugar rationing had come in. The jar could be filled with several pints of beer and passed around between those who hadn’t managed to find a suitable drinking vessel of their own.