The Forces’ Sweethearts
Lighter than a feather-duster and as wholesome as a Grant loaf, if it were a movie this third-in-series novel’s mild threat and hushed sex would hardly warrant even a PG rating. Nevertheless, it opens with several hooks dangling, the shortened first page alone displaying a pair of “full breasts” and the menace of nefarious intent. Soon afterwards we have “the sound of distant gunfire” as the girls of The Bluebirds singing trio entertain five hundred squaddies from the back of a 3-ton army truck near Libya’s frontline in 1942. Fortunately, there’s no fire-fight interruption, and soon we’re all safely back in Blighty with only constant air-raids and a surfeit of un-rationed emotions to concern us. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, as does a bun in the oven, prompting two of the three chanteuses to decide that rather than be The Forces’ Sweethearts they’ll plump (intended) for being local sweethearts to their respective blokes instead.
This scenario provides the bulk of the book; worries, decisions, will-they-won’t-they and so on. Love, pregnancy, marriage and tragic death due to “Hitler’s ministrations [sic]” present an engaging skip-along narrative, but it lacks the depth given by, for example, the sub-plot found in the previous book with its exciting German prisoner-of-war escape attempt. The third Bluebird, Bea, decides to go it alone but must overcome Mr Nefarious’s pressing interest if she wants to further her career. This intrigue prompts anticipation as to whether she’ll use what she’s been given to parry his thrusts and reach the future goals she hopes will be as glittery as her stage dresses. Eventually all the loose ends are cleverly if somewhat predictably tied up with only one hook left dangling, labelled ‘sequel’.
