By Sandra Savage Remember I love you,” he said hoarsely, “and that you’re my wife.” The darkness swallowed him up

The thought Sergeant MacPherson would be here when they got back from the Palais gave Billy caution for his behaviour.

He’d felt the pain of a punch in the jaw from the policeman, when he’d been caught visiting Gladys Kelly – again – and he’d no wish to repeat the experience.

“We won’t be late,” said Nancy, also glad that Euan MacPherson would be around when they got back.

The bright lights in the dancehall on Tay Street almost belied the fact that the country was at war and that at any minute bombs could be raining down on them from German bombers heading for the shipyards on the Clyde.

The various uniforms of the men, however, ensured that no one was under any illusion that peace was anywhere at hand and the urge to make the most of this brief respite from the fighting was evident in their faces.

Billy scanned the dancefloor for signs of Jim Murphy while Nancy checked her coat into the cloakroom.

For a moment he wished with all his heart that he and Nancy were still in love and that the evening would end gloriously for both of them, but cold reality soon brought him back down to earth as Nancy appeared next to him, her face a mask of indifference. “Not enjoying yourself,” he said, adding pointedly, “as usual.”

Nancy sighed. “So, I came to the dancing a couple of times,” she said, keeping her voice low and shrugging her shoulders, “so what.”

Billy looked around him again. “No one here you know then?” he asked, “seeing as how you’re a regular.”

Nancy didn’t answer. Surely, he didn’t know about Jim Murphy.

“Are you here to dance or just to start an argument,” Nancy said, wishing the night was over and Billy was gone.

She felt his hand grip her elbow and push her into the crowd of dancers. The band was playing a slow Foxtrot and Billy pulled her into him.

“Like this,” he whispered in her ear, “is this how you like to dance.” “You’re hurting me,” Nancy gasped, trying to push Billy away.

“Not as much as you’re hurting me,” Billy said through gritted teeth. Nancy closed her eyes and let her muscles go limp.

The dance would soon be over, she told herself, bitterly, and so would her marriage.

Although Nancy recognised a few of the soldiers, she avoided eye contact with them and none of them approached her.

“Can we go home now?” she asked, as the clock crept towards 10.30pm. “Annie and Euan will be waiting for us.”

“Get your coat,” said Billy coldly, “I’ll wait for you at the door.”

So, Jim Murphy hadn’t turned up, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t after Nancy.

Gladys Kelly knew about the dark side of life and wouldn’t have mentioned his name for nothing.

The walk back to their home was cold, dark and silent and it wasn’t till they came to the close leading to the stairwell that Billy spoke.

“I go overseas tomorrow,” he said, “but I’ll be back. And when I am, I’ll know if you and Jim Murphy have been up to anything. Understand me?”

Nancy flinched. So he did know about Jim, but how? Nancy neither confirmed nor denied Jim Murphy. “Do your worst,” she said, “and make sure you say good night to Gladys Kelly from me.”

Nancy summoned all her courage. “That’s where you’re going isn’t it?”

Billy placed his hands either side of her head and pulled her face towards his. He roughly kissed her before stepping back into the darkness.

“Remember I love you,” he said hoarsely, “and that you’re my wife.”

The darkness swallowed him up. Nancy wiped his saliva from her mouth and ascended the stair to home.

Euan and Annie were waiting. “Where’s Billy?” Annie asked, concern for the couple mounting. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Nancy said, “just gone to say goodbye to someone.” “Who,?” Annie queried. Nancy sighed. “No one you know Auntie Annie.” “Anyone I know?” asked Euan, worried now. Surely Billy wasn’t at Gladys Kelly’s after all that had happened in the past.

Nancy didn’t need to give him an answer, he knew by her face that there was no love left for her husband. Gladys Kelly had won.

By the time a month had elapsed at RAF Wilmslow, all the new recruits had been duly sworn in and signed the Official Secrets Act.

They’d be going home at the end of the week for a long weekend before returning to the camp ‘to see if they were any good for anything useful to the war effort,’ as Corporal Samson had put it, before being ordered to their first posting.

Lexie was writing to her mum about her homecoming and the time of her arrival when Winnie came into the billet and sat down across from her.

“Have you told your folks about coming home?” Lexie asked, not looking up from her writing.

The lack of response made her glance at Winnie and she saw the anxiety on her face. She put down her pen. “Something wrong?” Lexie asked. “Could be,” replied Winnie, enigmatically.

She now had Lexie’s full attention. “Meaning?” “I’m late.” “Late,” echoed Lexie, “as in...monthly late?”

Winnie nodded. “Jack Forsythe didn’t take any precautions and I...well, neither did I.”

“Oh Winnie!” Lexie put aside her letter writing and joined her friend on the bed. “Are you sure?”

Winnie nodded miserably. “Should have been three days ago.”

“Does he know?” asked Lexie, worried now for her new friend.

Winnie shook her head. “No,” she sighed “and he’s been posted to another airfield somewhere in Wiltshire...”

Her voice tailed off as she felt the weight of her predicament pressing down on her shoulders.

Winnie turned tearful eyes on Lexie. “I know we don’t know one another that well,” she began, “but could I come home with you, please? I don’t want to face my dad yet and I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

Lexie felt a wave of compassion for her friend. The last time she had had to confront pregnancy out of wedlock was when Nancy had come to stay and Euan and Billy Dawson had to ‘persuade’ Billy Donnelly to marry her. Attention Concern Argument (More tomorrow.)