For some reason neither Mr. B. or his wife ever mentioned my Xmas gifts, which I had spent hours picking out. Owing to the fact, that I had a younger sister to help take care of, and the fact that my guardians had married only a year before and were middle aged, with no children of their own, I seldom went any place, other than to the Village store, and to school, or perhaps a trip with them to Cranleigh in their little English car. While at the Rectory I got out once a week in the evenings to the First Aid class, which was just outside the church-yard, and meant a very hurried walk home for me in the pitch dark through the grave-yard. I don’t know where I got the nerve, but I enjoyed the lessons I received, even though I was always terrified in case they would use me as a demonstration. In London, I once volunteered during recess to let our Art Mistress attempt a new type of tourniquet on my arm, after putting up with it for what seemed an eternity, and my arm losing all feeling. Miss Baker said something about the experiment not going off right and that I seemed to be turning green! She removed the awful thing. I never volunteered for that type of thing again.
I finally had an excuse to get out for rehearsals for a variety concert at the Village Hall, which was actually a quaint old thatched cottage near the church. I was to do my impersonations of movie stars, which Id been doing since about the age of ten. Also to sing and dance The Fleet’s in Port Again, with a wealthy young lady named Elizabeth. I spent many evenings in her beautiful home, and marveled at their pure white carpet that covered their whole living room floor. She also had a pony that I loved and a cute looking brother, who reminded me of John Payne the movie star. The concert went off with great success, presented by the evacuees, as we were called, and accompanied by Miss Burrows, a retired police-woman.