by Rachel Quinn
‘Ah, yes,’ Aileen said. ‘I see what you mean. It’s been on the wireless, so it has. Three hundred thousand of them, so they say.’
Mary frowned. ‘Sure, you know more about them than I do.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Judging by Mary’s high heels, short skirt and pose, it seemed a fair assumption.
‘So, anyway, what is it you usually do with yourself when you have time off ?’
‘Well, ah . . .’ Aileen struggled to answer for a few seconds. ‘I’m still getting my bearings, getting used to living in a city.’
‘So, c’mon, what d’you say about the two of us going out tonight?’
‘Ah, well, we’ll see.’
Mary’s elbow nudged her. ‘Go on.’
‘I’m supposed to be saving my money.’
Mary spluttered a laugh out as she exhaled smoke. ‘Saving your money? Are you joking? Stick with me, Aileen. I know which pubs and dances are full of GIs. You’ll never need to buy yourself a drink while you’re there.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Or stockings. Or chocolate. Or chewing gum.’
‘I’ll think on it,’ Aileen said.
The cigarette stub glowed as it fell to the ground, only to be twisted out by the toe of Mary’s shoe. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said. ‘But you’re only going to have the one life.’ She nodded for them both to go back inside and they started work again.
It was only toward the end of the day, when Aileen’s work rate was slowing and after a lot of thought, that she leaned across to Mary and said, ‘All right then.’
‘What?’
‘Tonight. We’ll go out somewhere. If the offer’s still there.’
Mary laughed sharply – a deep, raucous cackle. ‘That’s grand.’
‘And thanks for asking me.’
‘I knew you would. Sure, we’ll have a grand time.’
‘Do you ever go to the cinema?’ Aileen asked.
Mary nodded slowly. ‘Ah, sometimes. The old Yanks like that, reminds them of home, I suppose. And, of course, they pay for it. And ice cream too, at the intermission.’
‘You make it sound like you do it all the time.’
Mary raised her eyebrows and returned to her work.
At the end of the working day they made arrangements to meet outside the factory, from where Mary would lead them into the city centre and to the pubs frequented by GIs.
Aileen went home, had tea, and was getting herself ready for going out when Mrs McDonald entered the room.
‘Are you going out somewhere?’ Mrs McDonald said with another one of her special, distinctly forced smiles.
Aileen, sitting in front of the mirror, brushing her hair out in front of the mirror, replied, ‘Just with one of the women from work. To a pub or a dance, I think.’
Mrs McDonald sat down next to her and was clearly about to place a hand on her knee but thought better of it. ‘You will be careful there, won’t you?’
Aileen immediately stopped combing. ‘What . . . what do you mean?’
‘What with you being . . .’ A nod to the ring on Aileen’s finger completed the sentence.
‘Ah, sure, I’ll be grand, Mrs McDonald. I won’t go doing anything daft.’
‘Yes, but . . . those American men.’
‘What about them?’
Mrs McDonald glanced behind her at the open door and lowered her voice. ‘They can be very . . . very brazen. You know, where the women are concerned.’
‘Brazen?’
‘Well, I don’t know how I can put it, but a girl’s head can be easily turned. They’re fine men, so they are. They’re brave sorts – they must be to do what they do. But they have money too, and they’re not afraid to use it to get what they want.’ She widened her eyes. ‘If you know what I mean.’
Aileen nodded. ‘That’s all right, Mrs McDonald. Thank you very much for warning me. I’ll try my best to be careful.’
‘Good.’ Mrs McDonald took Aileen’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, then stood and headed for the door.
‘Mrs McDonald?’ Aileen said.
‘Yes, dear?’
Now Aileen lowered her voice to little more than a whisper. ‘Have I done anything to upset Doreen?’
‘Aach, no.’
‘Doesn’t she like sharing a room with me?’
Mrs McDonald shook her head. ‘She’s had . . . she’s just had a hard time of it. It’s only her way. You’ve done nothing wrong.’
For a moment Aileen was going to ask the question that had been on the tip of her tongue a few times: what had happened to Doreen’s parents? But a part of her didn’t want to know the answer. ‘All right.’ She nodded. ‘She’s nice, so she is. I’m sure we’ll get along grand. In time.’
‘I’m sure.’ Mrs McDonald smiled and left the room, only to reappear almost immediately. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot. This came for you today.’ She took a letter from her apron pocket and dropped it on the bed.
Before Mrs McDonald had reached the top of the stairs outside, Aileen had ripped open the envelope and was reading.
18 January 1944
My dearest Aileen,
Thank you so much for letting me know where to write to you. And, of course, for your letters. They really are the tonic I need. I’m so relieved you’ve found good lodgings and are enjoying the job although, like you say, it’s early days yet. How is life in Belfast? Have you had time to go into the city?
I’m not really in any great pain at the moment as my leg is still in a cast, so my main problem is boredom. I’ve tried reading books, but I can’t do that all day because it gives me a headache. I can, however, read your letters over and over again, so please write again soon if you have the time.
I’m trying to keep myself fit by using dumb-bells. I’ll wager I could be like that Charles Atlas fellow by the time I’m finished – in the arms at least.
And I have to be grateful. Doctors keep stressing that I will make a full recovery, but the man in the next bed, Neville, lost both of his legs while fighting in Italy. He says he didn’t know anything about it and didn’t feel any pain, he just sensed a flash and then woke up to find himself being carried on a stretcher. He later found out a bomb dropped by the Luftwaffe caused a wall to fall on his legs, crushing them both. I dread to think what sort of life he will have when he goes home. He laughs and jokes during the day – such a jolly sort – but when the lights go out I’ve heard him crying. I feel so sorry for him, but I also know there are many even worse off.
I’m sorry if all of that sounds a bit depressing. Rest assured I am in good spirits considering my situation and trying not to let my boredom show.
I think of you constantly.
Your loving fiancé,
Niall.
P.S. I found out why this is called the Cambridge Military Hospital. It was named after the Duke of Cambridge, who was the top army fellow when it opened.
Chapter 13
Aileen and Mary walked into the pub, the Red Lion, just off one of the main crossroads in Belfast city centre. Mary glanced around, covering all the corners, while Aileen shrank in embarrassment, wondering what Mammy and Daddy would think of her strolling into a pub – especially one so dimly lit and so full of middle-aged men propping up the bar.
The floorboards were bare but at least they looked clean, and Aileen had just about come to terms with the idea of finding a seat when Mary gave her head the briefest of shakes and said, ‘Mmm . . . no.’
‘What?’ Aileen replied.
‘No Americans.’
‘Do we need Americans?’
‘What?’ Mary looked her up and down, curling up a lip.
‘No. I mean, we could have a drink here – just one – and have a talk. I hardly know you.’
‘I haven’t much to tell,’ Mary said, heading for the door. ‘C’mon.’
Outside, Mary cast the same expert eye around the streets. ‘Must be a dance on,’ she said. Then she set off at speed, like one of those torpedoes they’d mentioned on the wireless, and Aile
en struggled to keep up.
‘How much is it to get in?’ Aileen whispered as they queued up outside the dance hall a few minutes later.
Mary shook her head in despair.
‘What? I’m only asking.’
‘They don’t charge the women,’ Mary said. ‘We’re bait, you might say.’
Aileen thought for a moment. And what she thought was that she didn’t much care for the idea of being ‘bait’. She also thought of Niall, still recovering in some military hospital in England. She dismissed her thoughts of guilt. No. It was only Mary being daft. There was no harm. She was just going to meet people. Niall wouldn’t mind; he’d even mentioned going out of a night and had done so himself in London.
The room was huge – bigger than Leetown’s church. A jazz band was playing at the far end – very American, Aileen thought. To her right was a bar. To her left, a wooden dance floor was flanked on each side by a dozen or so tables, each with four chairs. Many of those tables were full – mostly occupied by two women and two uniformed GIs.
‘C’mon,’ Mary said, raising her voice over the blaring music, ‘let’s grab ourselves a table.’
Aileen followed and they sat, patiently, all the while looking around the room. Aileen was staring half in fear at the men, all smartly dressed, all holding glasses or bottles of beer. Mary was clearly just scanning the uniforms.
They had to wait about six minutes. It was no more than that; Aileen was used to timing eggs boiling, so she knew.
‘Over there,’ Mary said, nudging Aileen.
Aileen looked across the floor to the two men leaning against the bar. Both were holding bottles. They were talking, but they were looking directly at Mary or Aileen – it wasn’t clear which man was eyeing up which woman.
‘Wave to them,’ Mary whispered.
But Aileen simply gulped, her mouth getting dryer by the second.
So Mary waved.
One of the men took his elbow off the bar, his spare hand instinctively tucking his shirt into his trousers. Another few words were exchanged between them and they started the walk. But it was more of a swagger than a walk.
‘I’ll have the light-haired one,’ Mary managed to whisper to Aileen. ‘The one with the good teeth.’
Aileen was too scared to care which one sat next to her.
As it turned out, the men had their own ideas, the slightly shorter but stockier man with brown hair choosing to sit next to Mary. He also did the talking. He tilted his sailor’s cap to one side while he said, ‘Well, hello, ladies of Ulster.’
Aileen said nothing and Mary was clearly too preoccupied to care.
‘I’m Steve. This is my friend Marvin.’
Aileen and Mary introduced themselves.
Marvin, sitting next to Aileen, nodded politely and said, ‘Nice to meet you both.’
But from then on it was all Steve. He asked Mary and Aileen what they wanted to drink – Aileen asked for a lemonade, Mary the same but with vodka – and told Marvin to go and get them.
While he was gone, Aileen listened to Mary and Steve talk. By now, Mary had clearly forgotten that this was Steve and she’d previously chosen Marvin, and was matching him sentence for sentence.
‘Aileen, isn’t it?’ Marvin said when he sat down with the drinks a few minutes later.
She nodded and noticed his broad smile which appeared fixed, all the better to show off unnaturally white teeth. His eyes were alive with a bluish-grey colour but also warm, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly, his blond hair cropped short but thick.
‘So, Aileen, tell me something about yourself.’
‘What would you like to know?’
He seemed taken aback, which was after all the desired effect. He still kept those teeth on display. And she still didn’t smile, not wanting to encourage him.
‘Are you from Belfast?’
‘I’m from the South.’
‘South Belfast?’
‘Southern Ireland.’
He nodded. Aileen saw his eyes work their way over her face. And she didn’t much care for the experience.
‘I’m from New York,’ he said.
‘Right.’
His smile dropped for a second and he softened his voice. ‘You know, you should really lighten up a little.’
‘Why’s that?’ Aileen said, almost snapping the words out.
He thought about it for a moment and the glance at her torso was very quick. ‘Because you’re a very attractive young woman and you might enjoy yourself if you were to lighten up a little.’
Aileen had to gulp to believe the nerve of the man. She looked to the side, where Steve and Mary were almost in each other’s faces and, more importantly, Steve’s hand had planted itself firmly on to Mary’s knee.
‘Hey, Aileen,’ Marvin said, hooking a thumb in Steve’s direction. ‘That isn’t me. Don’t get all frightened. I only wanna talk. Really. And I’m sorry for calling you an attractive young woman – perhaps that was a little forward of me.’
Aileen took a swig of lemonade. ‘So, you’re from New York?’
‘Much better,’ he said, the smile widening again.
‘I know that place from the films – Central Park and the Statue of Liberty.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I’m from upstate.’
‘I thought you said you were from New York?’
His jaw twitched as he struggled to contain a laugh, and his mouth fell open as he lost the battle and chuckled away to himself. ‘Hey, I’m sorry. I’m from New York State but not the city.’
‘Ah, right.’
‘You don’t know the place. It’s an easy mistake.’
Aileen kept her face straight. He apologized again.
‘So, does that mean you live near Hollywood?’ she said. ‘Where they make the films – the movies as you say?’
His face cracked into discomfort. ‘Uh, no. That’s . . . that’s the other side of the country.’
Aileen raised her eyebrows at him and for a moment they were still and silent. And then it was Aileen’s turn to laugh, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at him, his face getting redder by the second.
He nodded slowly. ‘Ah, I get it. You knew that one, right?’
She carried on laughing, but eventually it subsided. ‘Los Angeles,’ she said. ‘Which is in California. I read about it.’
‘You’re cute,’ he said, frowning but smiling. ‘You’re cute. And I like that.’
Aileen had never been called ‘cute’ before. Even Niall hadn’t used that word and she had to admit that it felt nice, but just then her attention was diverted by Steve and Mary getting up from their seats.
‘We’re just going out for a walk,’ Steve said, not even trying to disguise his leer.
Mary leaned across to Aileen. ‘I might not be back for some time. Will you be all right for getting home on your own?’
‘I think I can remember. I’ll be off soon anyway.’
‘Good.’ Mary allowed herself to be pulled away by Steve – although she was laughing as it happened, and a minute later they were gone.
Aileen swirled the inch of lemonade left in her glass and drank it.
‘Would you like another?’ Marvin said.
Aileen shook her head.
‘Or something stronger? One with vodka in if you prefer?’
‘I don’t drink alcohol.’
He nodded acceptance. ‘Mmm, beauty and wisdom.’
‘Ah,’ Aileen replied, ‘money and flattery.’
‘You really are determined to give as good as you get, aren’t you?’
‘I try to,’ she said. ‘Anyhow, I’d better be going now.’
‘Would you like me to walk you home?’
‘I’d expect nothing less of a gentleman. You could even lend me your coat.’
Marvin quickly finished his drink and stood up. ‘Oh, sure, of course.’
‘I’m joking,’ she said. ‘I already have a coat. But walking me home would be grand if you don’t mind.�
��
The walk took about twenty minutes, during which they talked some more. Marvin ran through the different foods available back home that he couldn’t buy in Belfast, how many theatres there were in New York City, how dramatic the unspoilt countryside was upstate, and how his uncle in the city had lined up a good job for him when the war was over.
Aileen didn’t say much. There wasn’t much she could say about life in Leetown after hearing about the famous actors and actresses Marvin had seen on his many visits to Broadway.
They stood outside 22 Kingdom Avenue and Aileen thanked Marvin for walking her home.
‘Well, thank you for your company,’ he said. ‘It was short, but I hope it was as sweet for you as it was for me.’
She thought for a second. ‘Mmm . . . We didn’t quite hit it off like Steve and Mary, but it was grand. So thank you.’
‘Just my luck,’ Marvin mumbled. ‘You take a guy along for the ride and . . .’ He shook his head and the sentence was left unfinished.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ He stood tall, hands on hips, and sighed. ‘Well, I didn’t want to say but I . . . uh . . . I spotted you, thought you were the most beautiful woman in the room and asked Steve to come along with me to . . .’
‘To separate me from Mary?’
‘I’m just being on the level with you, Aileen.’
‘If it’s possible to be on the level about being underhand and devious.’
Half his mouth smiled. ‘Oh, you’re good. You’re very good.’ Aileen didn’t react and his lopsided smile fell away. ‘Look, I’ve come clean. I’m an honest guy. And, uh, I’d like to see you again. If, that is, you’d like to see me again.’
‘Ah, I don’t think so, Marvin.’
She turned to walk to the front door but he stepped in front of her. ‘Please. Just one more time. Didn’t we eventually get along together okay?’
He stood close, forcing Aileen to look up. This close, she could tell he was almost a foot taller than her, and his jaw full of those perfectly arranged teeth now looked as square as his shoulders. With those eyes somehow looking sorry below that shock of short-cropped blond hair, he managed to look manly but also like a lost little boy.
