In the Mood by M. W. Arnold

Author:M. W. Arnold [Arnold, M W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: 1940s; Family Saga; Historical; Saga; Saga Fiction; WW2; Cosy; Friendship; Historical Fiction; Historical Romance; Mystery; Romance; War Story Fiction
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-06-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

“When you lot have quite finished laughing…”

Lawrence left the sentence unfinished as none of his friends, let alone his girlfriend, was taking a bit of notice. Dumping the duffel bag he had upon his back onto the floor of Betty’s hall, he tramped past the five girls, all of whom were still gripping each other in fits of laughter and slumped down on the stairs.

Pulling off his shoes, he massaged his stockinged feet, rubbing their soles and glaring up at Mary, who upon seeing the sight of bare white thigh where his skirt had ridden up, had dissolved into more hysterical laughter. “Honestly, Jane, was it really necessary to wear the whole uniform? Couldn’t I have worn trousers instead?”

Wiping her eyes, Jane went over and laid a hand upon his shoulder, and though her shoulders were shaking as much as anyone’s, she told him, “I told you I had an idea to smuggle you in so no one would be able to tell it was you, didn’t I?”

For whatever reason, Lawrence let out a “Harrumph,” got to his feet, and without any regard for who was present, hitched up his skirt and unclipped his stockings before rolling them off and holding them up for Mary to take. “I don’t know why I had to wear stockings, though. Bloody things took an age to get on!”

Mary stretched out her stockings before rolling them up and tucking them away in her pocket, telling him, “If you had shaved legs, they wouldn’t have been a problem.”

No one noticed Ruth and Walter in the open doorway.

“Oh, I wish I had my camera on me!” Ruth wailed, her eyes wide at the sight before her, as Lawrence had hefted his duffel and was halfway up the stairs. Only problem was, his skirt was stuck on his thighs and the view everyone was getting was one only Mary seemed to not find amusing.

“You might want to tug your skirt down,” she shouted, but he ignored her and continued up the stairs. They heard the bathroom door open and close.

“Would…” Walter began, before he had to take a breath to compose himself, “would someone like to tell me exactly what I’ve just seen? I don’t know whether to hope I’m asleep because, if I am, this is some kind of weird nightmare, or to just tear my eyes out.”

“Shut the door and come into the kitchen,” Betty replied.

Once everyone had hung up their bags and hats, they all traipsed into the kitchen, where Betty was already filling up the kettle. From somewhere above them came the sounds of stomping feet and muttered curses.

Mary cast her eyes around at her gathered friends, most of whom looked like it wouldn’t take much for them to fall about laughing once more. “Please,” she asked, looking around, “when he comes back down, don’t make fun of him.”

Walter looked like all his birthdays had come at once. “Are you joking? I’ve never seen anything like it in my life! Plus,” he

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