Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2015731-Jane-Prudesworthy-Ch-21
by Bruce.
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Drama · #2015731
Terry goes to Libya, and Jane thinks he has forgotten her.
Chapter 21

Due to Terry’s standby commitment, he was not allowed on leave and he spent Christmas Day on the half-deserted camp. The unit was almost back to full strength the day after Boxing Day and he was glad to see the return of his friends. On New Year's Eve, Terry was dressed and ready to leave the block for the party in the NAAFI, but he sat patiently waiting for Mark and Bob.

         "Well, at least we can all have a good ole session tonight," Mark said. "Jane's on leave, so you won't be able to slope off and sit holding hands with her outside the WRAF block all night. How are you getting on with her anyway? Are you giving her one yet?"

         Terry laughed. "No, of course not, you know what I think about WRAFs, she's just a friend."

         "Shall we call at The Eight Bells first," Bob interrupted, "or are we going straight over to the NAAFI?"

         "I don't know," Mark replied. "You know the barmaid over at The Bells has got the hots for Terry, don't you? We might never get him out of there."

         "I'm not going over there," Terry said. "Last time I was in there that barmaid tried to get hold of me. I had to physically restrain her. The place was full of Rock Apes and I felt a prat. And then she punched me in the face and told me to leave her prat alone." The men's laughter echoed down the corridor as they left for the NAAFI, via The Eight Bells.

         Terry was called to station headquarters on New Year's morning, was given a rail warrant, and told to report to RAF Fairford the following day. He left on his adventure before Jane returned from her leave. He wished he could have seen Jane before he left, but he knew he was only going for a few months and would soon be back.

         He arrived at Fairford and joined a large group of airmen in a transit accommodation block. The following day, straight after breakfast, they entered through the rear-loading ramp of a Hercules transport plane for the start of their journey.

         It was early evening when, after a ten-hour flight, they disembarked at El Adem airfield. Terry soon made himself at home in the aluminium transit huts. He sat and wrote three letters, one to his parents, one to his friend Mark, and one to Jane. He lay on his bed for a while thinking of Jane and thinking how she seemed to be continuously on his mind. His thoughts wouldn't settle for long on any other subject, but his feelings for her. Now she was not around him, now he couldn't talk to her he realised what a terrible mistake he had made not spending more time with her. He knew he was in love with her and remembered their intimate moments together, but he felt his stupid attitude towards WRAFs had sometimes clouded his mind and caused him to avoid her.

         His thoughts were depressing him. He decided to go and find his new friends and he set off to search out the nearest NAAFI bar.

         A few days later he decided it was time to be honest with Jane. He needed to tell her how he really felt about her and he wrote her another letter. He re-read the last bit a few times before sending it off in the Forces Post.

          ...when we were talking about marriage that time, I said that I wouldn't consider getting wed until I was thirty. Well, Jane, maybe I was a bit hasty. Since you went away at Christmas, I've missed you terribly and I can't imagine living my life without being around you. Perhaps twenty-two would be a better age to get married. Am I proposing? No, I'm bloody not. I'll wait until I get back to you so I can look into your eyes and ask you personally. There is not a day that goes by that I don't spend some time thinking of you. I lie awake at night wishing that you were close to me. I don't know if you feel it as well, but I feel a sort of charge running through me when we are together. I really feel as if we were put on this world to be with each other, and if I were to spoil it, it would be a sin against nature.

         She would be over the moon when she reads this. At least he hoped she would.


         Jane returned to camp and was disappointed to learn that Terry had already left for Libya. It added to the mood of depression she was in following the disagreement with Gwen. She was sitting in the airmen's mess further troubled because she hadn't heard from her brother and was wondering if he had abandoned her as well.

         "Cor! Cheer up, you'll turn me off my dinner."

         Jane was startled by Bob's sudden appearance but pleased to have his company.

         Bob sat opposite her with a seemingly permanent grin across his face. "What's up, are you missing him already?"

         "Missing who?"

         "Terry, your boyfriend."

         "My boyfriend, what makes you think he's my boyfriend?"

         "You said he was, before Christmas, when I asked if I could take you out."

         "Oh, yeah. Well, we're just good friends really."

         "That's funny, he said that as well."

         "Did he?" She looked at him as if she didn't believe him, or didn't care.

         "Yeah, he said he don't like going about with WRAFs anyway." He paused as if surprised that his comments seemed to have little effect on her. But then he continued with a different approach. "He said you were looking for a husband, you brought it up, and he said you had no chance of marrying him."

         "It wasn't like that. Why did he say that?"

         "He says lots of things in our room. Said he takes you out now and then because you look sad and lonely."

         "I'm not sad, and I'm not bloody lonely."

         "Hold on, Jane, I never said it, did I? You don't have to have a go at me, you asked."

         "And what else has he been saying?"

         "No, I'm not telling you. I don't want you blaming me. It's best if I just keep my mouth shut."

         "Look I'm sorry, I didn't mean to have a go at you, but you have to tell me now you've started. I'd tell you if someone was saying things about you."

         Bob gave a big sigh as if he were reluctant to continue. "All right, but don't take it out on me. I like you, Jane, I like you a lot and I don't like people making snide remarks about you behind your back." He paused again for a few seconds while she sat staring at him. "He said you've got fat legs."

         Jane started laughing. "No, he didn't. I haven't got fat legs."

         "I know that. You've got great legs, but he obviously prefers skinny girls." He paused again as if he were trying to think of something to say. He remembered Terry telling him that he had trained as a masseur and thought it was worth a try. "Did he give you one of his massages?"

         Jane was visibly shocked by the question. She didn't answer, but she showed a blush as she looked at him.

         "I wasn't sure if it were true, but I am now. He said things got quite steamy, told us everything."

         "Us! Who the hell else knows about it?"

         "Everyone, he's told everyone. I mean it's private really and he should keep things like that to himself."

         She suddenly stood up. "Either he's lying, or you are."

         "Please yourself, you're the one who knows the truth, not me. I just know what I've been told. Look, why not forget about him for a while. I was thinking about going down the West End tomorrow night. Get some tickets from The Union Jack Club and go to see a show or something. What do you think? Do you fancy a night on the town?"

         "No!" she said. "And don't ask me again." She walked off feeling hurt and angry while Bob sat grinning.

         A few days later there was a knock on the door of the WRAF restroom and Bob looked in. "I've just brought the mail over and put in the rack in the restroom lobby. There's a letter for you Mandy."

         Jane walked out from the ladies' room. "Is there a letter for me?" she asked.

         "Sorry, Jane I didn't know you were in here. Yes, there's a letter for you as well."

         I bet mine's a letter from Freddie," Mandy said.

         "A letter from Freddie," Jane said. "He's only billeted across the parade square."

         "I know. He's trying to make it up with me, but he can piss off." I'm due out now, I'll take the letter with me in the ration truck. But I'll bet your one is a love letter from Terry in Libya."

         Jane gave a laugh. "Perhaps," she said feeling hopeful that it was.

         They went to get their letters. Mandy rushed off to her truck with her letter. Jane stood looking at her letter noticing the London postmark. She was disappointed it was not from Terry but glad it was probably from her brother. She looked into the main restroom. Bob was on his own, making himself a coffee and she called out to him. "Bob, do you know if anyone has heard from Terry?"

         "I don't think so. I'll ask the barmaid over The Eight Bells, she might have heard from him."

         "Why on earth should she hear from him?"

         "Look, I didn't want to say anything in case you got upset, but they've been seeing each other."

         "Seeing each other. I don't think so, Bob, he doesn't even like her."

         "I think you'll find he does. He had her back at the block New Year’s morning. When I went into our room they were both sleeping in his bed."

         Jane laughed. "I don't believe you."

         "Please yourself." He turned away and stirred the sugar into his coffee.

         Jane stood looking for a few seconds, before closing the door and walking off to the privacy of the WRAF restroom. She thought the letter was from her brother Tommy and it surprised her when she realised it was from Ronnie. It was written in an unfriendly manner telling her that Tommy had been seriously injured in a road accident. It said that he was in a coma and was not expected to survive. It then went on to say that the family believed that it was her fault and there was no need for her to go over to East London, except perhaps to visit her accomplice Marion. If she did continue to pursue a claim against Carol's estate, the family would take action against her for fraud.

         Jane was sitting in a silent state of shock. She stood up and made her way to the main restroom, badly needing support from someone, anyone.

         Bob looked up from his easy chair as she opened the door. The tears were filling the wide eyes in her ashen face as she stared blankly towards him. "Good God, Jane, what is it, whatever's wrong?"

         His words seemed to give her a kind of release from her shock and she burst out in tears. "It's my brother, my brother. He's been in a road accident. He's in a coma."

         Bob stood up and rushed over to her, pleased to be the one to comfort her, to hold her in his arms and try to help to relieve the pain of bereavement.

         Jane became more annoyed as the days passed, every day checking the letter rack, frustrated, wondering why Terry hadn't written to her as he promised. She was almost sure Bob was lying, but she kept wondering about Terry and the barmaid. She even made a trip over to The Eight Bells one night, but although the girl was behind the bar, she couldn't bring herself to ask her. She thought of Terry's friend Mark. Terry was sure to have written to him. Mark was alone in the fire section when she walked in and he looked up from recharging a used fire extinguisher.

         "Have you come to make me a brew, Jane?"

         She noticed the kettle just starting to boil and smiled as she walked over to the table to make his tea. "I was wondering how Terry was getting on in Libya, I thought he must be writing to you."

         "Yeah, he reckons he's having such a great time, he doesn't want to come back."

         "You're getting the mail all right then?"

         "Oh yeah, it only takes about three days. I thought he'd have dropped you a line. You two got on all right for a while, didn't you?"

         "Well, perhaps he's got too much going on."

         "Yeah, all them Arab girls belly dancing round him, the dirty lucky sod." They both laughed as she took his tea over.

         "I'd like to write to him, could you give me his address?"

         "Of course, I've got it in my locker back at the block. I'll fetch it in for you."

         She was having trouble asking the question she wanted to ask and began to walk to the door, but she turned to look at him again. "Mark, do you know if he's been going out with the barmaid from The Eight Bells?" There, she thought, I've said it. I've got it out.

         "I think he would have told me if he was, but I can't really be sure, it's possible I suppose. He doesn't like going out with WRAFs you know, he prefers the civvies. The only WRAFs I've seen him with are you and Susan from the band. Are you getting a serious crush on him then?"

         "Well, you know us WRAFs, Mark, anything in trousers."

         "I'm wearing trousers, Jane." They both laughed as she left the room.

         Jane walked out from the fire section as Bob was passing. He smiled and stopped walking as if waiting for her to walk along with him. She thought on how he had been pestering her for a date. He was a good-looking man, always well dressed and well-spoken. She had already been considering spending some time with him. Terry had obviously lost interest in her and she knew she dare not let herself get too depressed about it. She didn't want that feeling creeping up on her again, that feeling that nobody wanted her, that she didn't matter. Nevertheless, she didn't commit herself. She was still not sure about him. Especially as she was almost sure he had made a guess about Terry giving her a massage, it was common knowledge that Terry had trained as a masseur. But every time Bob tried to talk her into a date with him she found it more difficult to refuse him. After all, she thought Terry had obviously forgotten her.

 Jane Prudesworthy. Ch 22.  (18+)
Bob closes in on Jane.
#2215511 by Bruce.
© Copyright 2014 Bruce. (brucef at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2015731-Jane-Prudesworthy-Ch-21