The Storm

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The Storm Page 7

by Effrosyni Moschoudi


  “Just listen! Sofia, gave me a brown scarf for my birthday, the same shade as in the dream. But in the dream, it felt familiar. I had this intense feeling about it. I can't explain it. And just as I felt the scarf was mine, the same way I felt that she was too. Like we had been sweethearts forever, never meant to be apart.”

  “And you got all that from a dream?”

  “Yes! I woke up this morning, feeling very strange about her. Like no matter what happens, we can only be together. My fears, Steve, my insecurities . . . I feel none. I feel like I could go to Grand Parade right now and ask her to marry me. I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.”

  Steve scratched his head. “This is very weird, mate.”

  “I know. But it feels right, you know?”

  “You want my advice? Keep going to therapy and take your time. Sofia has a boyfriend now, anyway. Just stay in her life and go with the flow. And whatever you do, don’t be an idiot and tell her any of this. She’ll think you’re raving mad!”

  Danny gave an easy laugh. “All right, mate. Promise!”

  Later that day, when Steve went to the staff room to have a tea break with Loula, he relayed everything to her. Being faithful to her friend, Loula didn’t tell Steve how exciting the dream sounded. However, she decided not to tell Sofia either. She imagined things were finally going the right way between her and Danny. No point in risking changing things by intervening.

  Chapter 13

  February 1942

  Lilly replaced the cap on her lipstick and admired her hot red lips in the mirror. Next, she needed to touch up the pink blush on her cheeks, and she tackled the task with swift, yet perfect strokes. It was a skill that girls in her profession soon had to acquire or be tossed back into the street. Working as a cabaret girl wasn’t an easy job; especially when dancing wasn’t all the customers expected from her.

  Luckily, Lilly enjoyed the undivided attention of the boss himself these days. This meant she no longer had to please the joint’s sleazy customers any more like the other girls did. Nowadays, the boss expected her to be at his beck and call exclusively; something she found beneficial, of course. The downside was the boss had started to act rather strange lately. He acted almost like a tender, loving boyfriend, instead of just another man set to get his raw, sexual release.

  Lilly finished touching up her makeup and ran her brush through her long, wavy blond hair. It draped over her shoulders in silky strands, their ends dancing in the breeze that came through the half-open window with the flimsiness of cobwebs.

  The door swung open revealing the very man she’d been expecting. These days she was summoned to his executive suite above the cabaret nearly every afternoon. Because of the recent change in her boss’s manner, their private encounters now felt rather awkward. Still, it was a job and it came with benefits. She might as well enjoy being the boss’s pet.

  “Hello, my darling!” Charles strode towards her and planted a firm kiss on her lips. He took a moment to look into her eyes and admire the stunning beauty of her youth.

  Lilly flashed him an easy smile—she had enough work experience to manage it despite her bemusement—and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.

  Charles smiled back at her and took off his coat, then set about removing the rest of his clothing. All the while, his eyes laughed above his flushed cheeks.

  Lilly glanced at him sideways, the corners of her mouth twitching, uncertain about which way to go. It was much harder to pretend that she was happy to see him, when he acted so much like a lovesick puppy. “Well, did you manage it?” she asked dispassionately as she removed her robe to reveal her voluptuous form dressed in fine, silky underwear.

  From the bed, Charles eyed her with desire as she went round to lie beside him. When she did, he gave a long sigh and put out a hand to caress her neck. He rested a tender hand on her shoulder and smiled broadly. “Yes, I have! It was easy, of course.”

  Lilly’s eyes widened. “So what does it say? Have you got it?”

  “I left it with Harold to take it to the recruiting office. It’s already out of my sight; the matter’s resolved. That’s all I need to know,” he announced, waving his hand in mid-air.

  “So what reason did the doctor put forward?”

  Charles sniggered. “A heart problem. Basically, the way he worded the diagnosis in writing, I should refrain from having sex in my condition, let alone go to war!”

  Lilly chuckled. “Oh la la! I can just imagine you, Charles! You’d never be able to live celibate. You love this too much!” she teased him, running a hand over his groin, causing him to moan with pleasure.

  Charles took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, and Lilly did what she does best, arousing him further, helping him forget all his troubles for a while. Taken over by the fierceness of their lust, soon they were making love with a passion that resembled a force of nature.

  For Charles, his newly acquired French dancer had already become a bit of an infatuation. Day and night, he thought of nothing else but the moments he’d spend with her on his bed in his private quarters above The Black Cat. He soon realised he equally enjoyed simply being with her, sharing his everyday troubles with her, and hearing about her life stories, too. Not that she was particularly willing to talk much about herself, but she was a damn good listener.

  By now, Lilly knew everything about Charles, including the scorn he carried for his father, his resentment towards his wife and her son, and even his worries as he tried to avoid getting snatched by the Army and sent to war. Since the second National Service Act, he’d lost his sleep. It obliged every man under the age of fifty-one to military service.

  Charles had done everything in his power to fool all those bastards—as he called them—who thought they could upset his life in this impertinent manner. A Willard wasn’t going to be told what to do. Luckily, he had the power and the money to solve this little problem, too. It was easy to find a heart surgeon to accommodate him at the hospital. The right name and the right price opens all doors, even in a war situation. The good doctor wrote in his false report that the patient was so frail he was unable to stand. Hence, it was no problem for Charles to send Harold in his stead to submit the paper for review. It meant he didn’t have to waste his precious time with this tiresome matter any further.

  Charles smiled brightly under his fine moustache. Lilly had snuggled up against him under the covers. He caressed her hair for a few moments, then reached out to the bedside table to get his cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one for her, then one for himself, and they sat up on the bed, propped up against the headboard with plush, snow-white pillows, watching the smoke swirl before their faces, their minds emptying, relishing the quiet.

  Lilly broke the silence first. “So, problem solved then. One less thing for you to worry about. You seem to carry the whole world on your shoulders, don’t you, Boss? Mon pauvre!” She teased, pouting her full lips and blinking at him with impossibly long lashes. When he chuckled in response, she gave a sigh and ran her hand slowly up and down his arm as she leaned against him.

  Charles shrugged. “Everyone has problems, Lilly dear.”

  “Oh, I don’t think anyone has more on their mind than you do,” she said in her thick French accent that he so adored. He threw her a glance, and she shook her head. “Your father, for example! You think the old colonel will be happy to hear you got a note to avoid going to war?”

  Charles huffed. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s already disowned me. What else can he do to me? Now I have the income to support my family, I no longer need his monthly payments. Even if he stops sending them, it won't affect me one bit. I am my own boss now.”

  Lilly turned to face him, aghast. “He still sends the cheques?”

  Charles scoffed. “He does. Although they come in Laura’s name now, just to spite me. Presumably because she’s the minder of the little bastard’s inheritance. I guess it gives the old fool something to chuckle about.” He huffed again.

  “Ca
n I ask you something, Charles?”

  Charles lifted Lilly’s chin with one finger and gave a lopsided grin. “Sure, ma chérie. You can ask me anything.”

  “You seem to hate your wife so much. Why don’t you get a divorce?”

  Charles shook his head and looked away. “You don’t understand . . .”

  “No, of course I don’t. This is why I ask. If you mind me asking, then—”

  He gave a thin smile. “No, no, I don’t mind. It’s just that it’s difficult to explain.”

  Lilly threw him a puzzled look.

  “You see, a man of my stature has to keep certain standards. I’m not the next man, Lilly. I was born into peerage. I have to be seen as a man of accomplishment, not one of failure.”

  “But how could you be a failure? You’d simply divorce her and reclaim your freedom. It happens every day. Why live with someone who you despise so much?”

  Charles ran an impatient hand through his hair. “Because of her child, Lilly!” His voice boomed but then he realized and lowered his voice before speaking again. “Don’t you see, my darling? While she’s my wife, the secret is safe. If I let her go, who knows what she might do? If that peasant who fathered that child is still alive somewhere, who knows? They might wind up together again. And if the secret about the boy comes out in the open, I’ll be a laughing stock. It’s quite simple. I have to live with her to protect my pride and my decency. There is no other way.”

  Lilly mulled it over for a while. “What if you ask her not to tell the secret? What if you pay her off?”

  Charles sniggered. “Pay her off? Now that she has my father’s riches, she’ll never be impressed, no matter what I give her. Come to think of it, riches don’t seem to impress her at all, as it is. I wish she were someone I could buy off, but that’s just my luck! I had to marry the only person I could never coax to do anything, even with a bribe!” He gave a nasty grin, one that made his pearly whites glint under the overhead light. “It’s too late to make any kind of agreement with her. By now, she despises me just as much as I her. The game is lost. We can never be happy again, but we can't be separated either. This is so clear to me . . .”

  Lilly shook her head forlornly. “If this is the case, then that’s really sad. Because, who knows, you might find love again if you could only let go of each other and carry on with your lives.”

  “Let go? I’ll never let go of her, Lilly!” His tone of voice rose a few notches. “I promised myself once that no one else would ever have her but me. It’s a man thing, you wouldn’t understand. Or rather, it’s a Willard thing. No one can touch what’s mine, don’t you see? I chose her for my wife, and she’ll remain mine till her dying day.” Charles’s eyes glinted with resolve at the last sentence, his fist shaking in the air to make the point clear that he meant every word.

  “But don’t you see how poisonous this is?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Lilly! As long as she lives under my roof, she’s still mine. She’ll never be with anyone else, especially that pathetic peasant she let herself get enamoured over once. And most importantly, the secret about their offspring remains safe under my roof. That’s more than enough to keep me satisfied, believe me.”

  “But—”

  “Even more but’s! But what, Lilly?”

  Lilly seemed unaffected by his exasperation. She didn’t mind it in the least but rather looked concerned about his warped ideas of what a satisfactory marriage entails. “But what about love, Charles? Shouldn’t you give love a chance to bring you happiness?”

  Charles huffed. “It’s all about love with you French, isn't it? L’amour?” He rolled his eyes.

  “Love feels good, Charles.”

  “So does pride and dignity!”

  “Oh Charles . . .”

  “Enough, Lilly! I don’t want to hear another word about my wife, ever again. God damn it, it’s none of your business!” He checked his watch. “I say, look at the time! We’d better hurry and return downstairs.” He rushed to the window and peered outside behind the half-closed curtain. “The streets will be crawling with American soldiers within the hour. Those boys will be out on the prowl, and our girls had better be outside the gates to lure them in, like I said. Get yourself dressed and go prepare the new girls.”

  Lilly nodded and said nothing. She knew well that the G.I.’s had money coming out of their ears. What’s more, they were passionate gamblers. The young girl followed suit when Charles retrieved his clothes and started to dress as quickly as possible.

  Within a couple of minutes, with a fresh cigarette lit and placed between his lips, Charles was the picture of perfect self-control. The look on his face was one of professional smugness, brought on by success and high profits. The American troops had brought a steady increase to his earnings since January when America entered the war. ‘Over-paid, over-sexed and over here’, the popular gripe went; The Black Cat had it all to make sure the eager crowd of American boys that entered through its doors every evening had their fun to the ultimate and paid good money for it.

  “Hallelujah for Pearl Harbour and those blessed Japs!” exclaimed Charles, as he opened the door for Lilly to come through in her striking red, silk and chiffon dress. Wearing his most dashing smile, he straightened his tie and hurried downstairs to make sure everything worked like clockwork.

  Chapter 14

  In the wee hours of the morning, at the end of another busy night entertaining the well-heeled G.I.’s, Charles counted cash behind his large, mahogany desk.

  A knock on the door caught him off guard causing him to lose count as he handled a thick wad of notes. Annoyed, he cursed behind his teeth before speaking. “Come in!” At this hour, all he needed was a quick ride home and his pyjamas before lying in his lonely bed.

  Lilly’s cheerful face hovered at the door. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

  Even at the end of the night, she looked stunning. The thought softened Charles’s features, and he gave a little sigh. “It’s fine, come in darling, come in.” He beckoned her with a half-smile before resuming his calculations.

  Lilly took a seat and waited until he raised his head again.

  “God bless America! Another great evening,” he exclaimed, grinning. “Is there anything you need, my dear? I’m literally on my way out. I have the taxi waiting at the curb.”

  “No, Charles, I just wanted to remind you that Julie and Paula have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll be late in, but it can’t be helped.”

  “That’s fine. How lucky am I to have you, my precious pearl?” Charles walked up to her with a spring in his step and lifted her chin with one finger, his face glowing. He had valid reasons to feel satisfied, being the owner of such a lucrative business, but his elation was heightened further at this hour due to alcohol intoxication.

  Lilly beamed at him. “I bet it feels good, Boss. You must be very pleased not to have to depend on the earl’s money any more.” She winked at him with a sly grin on her face. It was a gesture and a statement that no one else could ever dare make, but this girl knew she had the viscount wrapped around her finger. He seemed to relish having the odd laugh with her in his father’s expense.

  Charles sniggered. “Indeed! You know what the funniest thing is about him?” He put a tender hand on her shoulder. “It’s that I know something he does not! Something that if he knew it, it would make his world crumble down in an instant; but I’m saving the revelation for the opportune moment.”

  Lilly knitted her brows. “What might that be, Charles?”

  It’s about his precious grandson, of course! You think he knows the little brat is not mine? I can't wait to tell him it’s the offspring of some lowly commoner!” Charles ran a hand through his hair with a slow, fluid movement and grinned from ear to ear. “You know what they say, Lilly! Everything in good time. Waiting for the right moment will be the ultimate revenge for me.”

  “Revenge? You mean for leaving the inheritance to the boy instead of you in his will?”r />
  “Of course. Imagine his face when he finds out he left it all to the son of some peasant he doesn’t even know. But I won't tell him when he has time to rectify the situation - no! I’ll tell him on his death bed when it’s too late! I’ll whisper it in his ear just as he draws his last breath. Can you just imagine? Can't wait to see the old bastard’s face!”

  Lilly stared at him aghast.

  Charles smirked. “You look so shocked, petal.”

  As if awoken from a dream, Lilly jolted upright. She rearranged her features into an expression of amusement, but deep down she was shocked to the core. She huffed and gave him a smile. “Do I? Well, you’re diabolical, Boss! I’ll give you that. But what makes you think you’ll see him on his death bed? He has disinherited you, after all.”

  “Darling, you don’t know my mother. That woman will never give up. She still calls from time to time, begging me to visit Lakeview and make amends. If the old boy’s number comes up, Mother will make sure I’m summoned to say my goodbyes.” Charles gave an uproarious laugh, and it caught Lilly by surprise. Just how much can a man hate his own father?

  ***

  Half-way across town, Maggie lay awake in her bed. She had awoken about an hour earlier but didn’t manage to go back to sleep. Soon, she’d have to get up and get dressed to catch the bus to work. These days, she had to take public transport to the munitions factory as Laura’s chauffeur was fighting the war. Maggie met up with Laura and Meg on the same bus every morning as it made its way to the factory.

  The previous day, Laura had broken down crying on the bus when one of the male workers whistled the tune to “Cheek to Cheek”. Laura had always found it impossible to listen to that song and remain collected. Over the years, Maggie knew not to let it play on the wireless lest Laura should promptly furrow her brow and get upset.

  Maggie knew about that New Year’s Eve, back in 1938, when Christian sang the words of that song close to her ear as they danced at the West Pier’s Concert Hall. Ever since losing him, that song had been haunting Laura. And now, just because someone had whistled the tune, she had crumbled to pieces.

 

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