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up in in Wales. Give me London every time.’

George closed her eyes. ‘I feel like Lord what’s-his-name sitting in this chair.’ She tapped the padded arm. ‘It’s like a throne.’ Lifting her tankard she took a long drink. ‘I’m surprised he asked a woman to run the estate,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Must be a forward thinker.’

‘Lord Foxden’s always thought a lot of our Bess, but it wasn’t him who asked her, it was his son, James. Bess was a teacher in London and when the children at her school were evacuated James asked her to come back to Foxden and turn the estate into arable land.’

‘Crikey,’ Betsy said. ‘That’s a hell of a lot of work.’

‘And responsibility,’ George added.

‘Talking of responsibility,’ Margot said, ‘shouldn’t we be getting back to Artie?’

In a slightly warmer rehearsal hall with an almost perfectly tuned piano, the Alberts rehearsed the song they were going to open with at the factory the following day, which they decided would also be the best song to do for Basil Dean and ENSA next Tuesday. Once satisfied that “Don’t Sit Under The Apple Tree” was the right song to perform they added the other songs. Each song and dance routine needed to be perfect, because after the initial song for ENSA, they didn’t know which of their repertoire Basil Dean would ask them to perform next. There was no guarantee he’d ask them to perform another number, but if he did they wanted to be prepared.

By mid-afternoon the Albert Sisters had an audience. As people walked past the village hall and heard the music they stopped and came in – and with only a few hours to perfect their act they welcomed the feedback. After a final run-through, the audience of local ladies and customers from the Crown pub, who had wandered across the road at closing time, cheered and clapped for more.

The following day at twelve o’clock, the Albert Sisters performed their show in the canteen of the Lowarth Foundry where Margot’s father worked and later, during an extended tea-break, at the Rover where Ena, Margot’s younger sister worked. Both workforces sang along with the popular songs and some of the women danced. For the Albert Sisters it was a taste of what performing with ENSA would be like, if they got through the audition.

That evening Margot took George, Betsy and Artie up to the Hall to meet the men in the hospital wing. She took them round the room and introduced them, as Bess had introduced her earlier in the week. Exhausted after performing two shows that day, they made their excuses and left after an hour, promising to return the following night to entertain them. And true to their word, at eight o’clock the next night, dressed in WAAC, WAAF and WREN uniforms, Betsy, George and Margot marched into the hospital wing at Foxden Hall and stood to attention. Artie had arrived earlier and was seated at Foxden’s grand piano. ‘From the top!’ he shouted in his best Sergeant Major’s voice, whereupon the girls saluted before bursting into song with “Run Rabbit Run”. During the evening they performed their entire repertoire to cheers and applause. Thanks to the men and women in the factories at Lowarth and the servicemen at Foxden Hall, the Albert Sisters were ready for ENSA.

The following morning, after a tearful farewell with her parents, Margot joined Bess and the land girls at Foxden Hall for breakfast. Artie, having brought the cases down some time before, had finished his breakfast and was on his second cup of tea. George arrived ten minutes later. She’d been to say goodbye to the Goldman children, who had given her letters and drawings that she’d promised to deliver to their parents in London. As Mrs Hartley heaped scrambled eggs onto Betsy’s plate the land girls went off to work and Artie and Mr Porter took the cases out to the truck.

By the time Margot and the girls were ready to leave the drive was lined with servicemen. Some had walked down with the aid of sticks or crutches, some were sitting on top of the semi-circle of stone steps outside the Hall’s main entrance in wheelchairs, and those who weren’t mobile had their beds pushed in front of the ballroom’s French windows.

Mr Porter waved to Margot, indicating that he and Artie were ready to leave. Having said goodbye to Mrs Hartley and the Goldman children – who had come out to wave them off – George and Betsy walked down the steps to the car, shaking hands and saying goodbye to the servicemen.

‘Come on,’ Bess said, linking her arm through Margot’s, ‘or you’ll miss your train.’

As they began their descent a cheer went up and Margot waved. She shook hands with some of the lads wishing them good luck and to get well, and promising them that she would come back as soon as she was able. To those in the distance she waved and blew kisses.

‘You’ve made a big difference to the lives of these lads,’ Bess said.

‘Not half as big a difference as they’ve made to mine.’ Margot stopped for a moment to take in the scene. She looked back and waved to Mrs Hartley and the Goldman children – and she blew kisses to the servicemen looking out of the ballroom’s windows.

As she lowered herself onto the passenger seat of the car, tears that had threatened all morning filled her eyes. She took a deep breath and smiled bravely. Following the farm truck along the drive, Bess reached over and squeezed Margot’s hand. Margot wiped her tears and nodded that she was all right.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Stretching all the way down Catherine Street to Aldwych one way and back up to Drury Lane the other, the queue to the stage door of The Theatre Royal Drury Lane appeared endless. For what seemed like an

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