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the highest possible standards. Thankfully, I attended before the war when you could get good quality ingredients. It’s almost impossible nowadays to put a delicious meal on the table with everything rationed – or so it feels like. But at least I know how to make a decent meal from nothing.’

‘Gosh.’ Ronnie blinked. ‘I bet you could show my French mother a thing or two. She’s an awful cook. I have to do most of it and I’m not really interested.’

‘Strange your mother is French and can’t cook,’ Jessica commented.

Ronnie didn’t bother to tell her that they used to have a cook in their old life. What would be the point?

‘Maybe you’d become interested if you knew how.’ Jessica raised an eyebrow.

Ronnie shook her head. ‘No, but I do love growing vegetables. Nothing from the greengrocer’s tastes as good as the ones you grow yourself.’

‘You see, you’re already halfway there if you have beautiful fresh vegetables.’ Jessica studied Ronnie. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t join the Land Army if you like being outdoors so much.’ She didn’t wait for an answer but frowned. ‘What on earth can I use instead of the steak?’

‘What about corned beef?’

‘Ugh. Dreadful stuff.’ This time there was a definite curl of Jessica’s lip. ‘Can you imagine the chefs in Paris cooking with it? They’d rather die.’

‘We won’t expect you to go that far,’ Ronnie said, laughing. ‘But it’s a whole lot better than nothing, so why don’t you try it? There’s bound to be a tin in one of the cupboards.’

‘It goes against all my principles,’ Jessica said.

‘Not mine,’ Ronnie grinned. ‘And I bet it doesn’t go against any of the other girls’ principles either – or Dora’s … especially Dora’s.’

‘If she’s ever had any,’ Jessica shot back.

Ronnie lowered the table cupboard and peered at the shelves. Triumphantly, she grabbed hold of a tin of corned beef. ‘Just what Chef Jessica has been looking for. I think you’ll do very nicely,’ she said, addressing the tin.

Jessica looked doubtful. ‘I suppose I’ll have to give it a go, though I’ll know who to blame if it tastes like a dog’s dinner.’

‘My Rusty would be delighted with it, then,’ Ronnie said, grinning. ‘It’s his favourite – a really good dog’s dinner! But there’s no need to say anything to the others. After all, there is a war on.’

‘That’s one thing we did learn,’ Jessica said. ‘When something goes wrong with a dish, never apologise and never explain. But I’d be grateful if you don’t mention that I’m a qualified cook. This is not going to be one of my successes.’

Dora wiped her mouth from the remnants of Jessica’s goulash on the sleeve of her jumper and Ronnie grimaced inwardly, thankful her own jumper had now dried and she was wearing it. The trainer gave Jessica a sharp look. ‘What did you say it was?’

‘Goulash.’

Ronnie stifled a giggle. It sounded awfully grand for what she’d have termed ‘corned beef stew’ but everyone had cleaned their plates and said it was delicious.

‘Hmm. Sounds a bit foreign ter me,’ Dora said, looking at her empty plate as though she couldn’t believe she’d eaten every scrap. ‘But I’m sure yer did yer best.’

Jessica rolled her eyes, making Ronnie turn what threatened to be a burst of laughter into a cough.

‘Anyone fancy the White Swan?’ Dora said as Sally and May rinsed the plates and set the saucepan to soak. ‘I don’t know about you lot, but I’m dyin’ for a pint. It’s close to Denham where we’ll tie up and The Green Man where I’m puttin’ my head for the night.’

‘I’m up for it,’ Jessica said immediately. ‘And wouldn’t a glass of decent wine go down a treat?’

‘Do you think she’s gone to change?’ May said when they’d moored and Dora had gone to fetch her overnight bag.

‘Oh, yes, definitely. She’ll be in evening dress and full make-up, no question,’ Jessica chuckled. ‘Which is what I now propose to do.’

Everyone looked at her in astonishment.

‘Are you really?’ Sally said.

‘Don’t be daft.’ Jessica’s eyes were full of mischief. ‘But it wouldn’t hurt us to freshen up a bit if we’re going out. I just wish I hadn’t been so worn out last night that I didn’t put my hair in curlers. It looks awful.’

‘It doesn’t at all,’ Ronnie protested. ‘It’s such an unusual colour – like a fairy story princess.’

‘Thank you, kind lady,’ Jessica chuckled.

‘When you’ve both finished yapping about Jessica’s hair,’ Angela cut in, ‘maybe we can find out who’s going.’ She paused. ‘I’ll say yes.’

‘And me,’ Sally said. ‘What about you, Margaret?’

‘All right.’

‘May?’ Sally turned to her.

‘I thought it was a foregone conclusion,’ May laughed, ‘seeing as how I used to work in a pub.’

‘Ronnie, are you coming?’ Jessica said.

‘No, I won’t, thanks. I’m going to have a proper wash. I feel really grimy. Then I’m going to bed with a book.’

‘I’d prefer to go to bed with a man meself,’ May chimed in with a scream of laughter.

Ronnie felt the heat rise up her neck and into her face. She looked away.

‘Sorry, Ronnie,’ May said, her laughter dying. ‘I didn’t mean to offend.’

‘You didn’t,’ Ronnie mumbled. ‘Not in the least.’

She couldn’t help liking May, but she did sometimes say things a bit close to the mark. Maman would definitely not have approved of some of the company she was keeping.

Please let them all just go and leave me in a bit of peace.

She wasn’t used to being around so many girls all the time and in such proximity. At home she could just jump on her bicycle, Rusty in the basket, and go off wherever she pleased. Or simply stay in her bedroom with him. Have time and space to think.

At the thought of Rusty her eyes welled.

‘What’s the matter, Ronnie?’ May put her arm round her. ‘Come on – I was only teasing.’

‘I know.’ Ronnie bit her lip. Why wasn’t she like the others, all happy to go off to the pub?

‘Dora didn’t say a time so we’ll

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