Chapter Six: WILLIAM ON THE DOTTED LINE

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( Chapter Six: ❛ WILLIAM ON THE DOTTED LINE ❜ )
OCTOBER, 1943

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VIRGINIA GLOYNE WAS HOME ALONE ONE SATURDAY, prancing shamelessly around the kitchen and washing the dishes in her cozy dressing gown, listening to When a Girl Marries, an American daytime radio drama that aired on enough local stations for the blonde to be able to listen to it on their wireless. The rough-around-the-edges accents like that of Dr John Wayne reminded her of the Marines.

After a short-winded debate, her mother had won her father over and they had both approved her decision to join the AWAS. She'd already given her two week notice at the switchboard centre, and only had the following week to complete before her time there was officially over and she was free to enlist as a working woman of the army. Even the mere thought of it made her quiver with excitement.

To celebrate, she was due to be going out with Jackie later that afternoon, back to the Railway Motel. Therefore, she was yet to dress and make herself look presentable, her platinum-blonde hair in lazy blonde waves that rolled over her shoulders and down her back, slightly frizzy like bubbling champagne and yet to be set in rollers and sprayed. Though, she knew the whole celebration of her leaving her job would somehow morph into Jackie spending the evening with her Marine boyfriend and Ginny sitting with his unpleasant friends.

She'd been scrubbing the Friday evening dishes, wearing her mother'a duck yellow washing up gloves when Otto began barking at the window, before racing around the armchair and scampering towards the front door, "Otto, what is it, boy?" she asked the sheltie as she turned off the taps. "It's not the telegram boy, is it? He must have got the wrong house again," she sighed and hurried towards the dog, ushering him back before unlocking and opening the door.

The caller was far from whom she'd been expecting, and she instantly shut the door in his face again. Through the door, she called, "You better get outta here, Mr Hoosier, my dad doesn't much like you Marines," a hearty blush blooming on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose and the thought of her unruly appearance that he'd caught a momentary glimpse of when she'd opened the door.

He turned around and sat down on her front doorstep, his knees high and his arms propped up on them. On the other side of the door, she could hear him humming an old song with the low, grousing cadence of his southern American voice. Ginny knew, that if her father found her in kahoots with some Marine man, he'd disregard her arguments for her desire to join the AWAS and pit it down to wanting to impress a man, or worse, he'd call her a liar for speaking about not wanting to court any Yanks.

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