by Rosie James
After Carrie had spoken to a waitress standing near, the three girls were shown to their table. ‘I will bring your tea in a few minutes,’ the waitress said, smiling down. ‘Proceedings are about to start and I expect you would like to dance for a while before you begin eating?’
‘That sounds perfect, thank you,’ Eileen said, returning the smile.
The waitress left, and Carrie said, ‘Look – apart from one table over in that corner, the others are all occupied, so it’s just nicely full, isn’t it? Room for everyone to dance without bumping into each other!’
‘Don’t count on that,’ Abigail said. ‘I’m sure to trip over my feet – despite your best instructions. I’m already beginning to feel nervous because will I remember everything you tried to teach me?’
‘Of course you will!’ the others said in unison. ‘Stop worrying!’
The MC spoke through his microphone. ‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Welcome to The Berkeley Afternoon Tea Dance! Now, shall we start with the quickstep? Come on – everyone on their feet! It’s time to enjoy ourselves!’
And with the music of Victor Sylvester’s dance band filling the room, almost everyone left their table and took their places on the floor.
Eileen leaned over and touched Abigail’s hand. ‘Would you like to have a go, Abigail?’ she said. ‘Or would you rather sit and watch for a few minutes while Carrie and I make a start?’
‘I think that’s a very good idea,’ Abigail said at once. ‘I’ll keep a close eye on the pair of you to refresh my memory of all those steps!’
Although the whole atmosphere in the ballroom was disarmingly relaxing, Abigail could feel her knees actually begin to shake in apprehension. In fact, she was even feeling a bit sick. How on earth was she going to join in with the rhythm and steps of the dances after having had so little instruction? It was all very well for Eileen and Carrie … Just look at them now, Abigail thought as she picked them out among the crowd. They’d been dancing for years and they made it look so effortless as they tripped along to this very quick quickstep!
Just then the waitress appeared with a tray holding their teapot and water jug which she put down in front of Abigail. ‘I thought you might like a cup of tea,’ the waitress said kindly. ‘I’ll bring the cakes a bit later.’
‘Oh – thank you so much,’ Abigail said. ‘You must have realised I was feeling parched!’ Or should I say terrified?
Filling one of the dainty tea cups, Abigail put it to her lips and sipped. And almost at once, she began to feel a bit better. Perhaps she might actually join in when the others came back, she thought hopefully.
As the quickstep came to an end, the MC spoke again. ‘Stay on your feet, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘and we will go straight into the waltz.’ He turned to change the record. ‘Here we go … the waltz, the all-time favourite!’
Abigail put down her cup and sank back into her chair. If she was honest, she would almost prefer to stay where she was for the whole afternoon and not dance at all. Just drink in her surroundings. But she could hardly do that, not after her friends had provided her with this party dress and sweet little sandals.
Then, a gentle tap on her shoulder made Abigail turn and look up quickly. A tall, middle-aged man dressed in a smart grey suit stood beside her.
‘Excuse me, I was wondering if I might have the pleasure,’ he said courteously, ‘to partner you in this waltz?’
For a full five seconds Abigail could not find her voice. This was something she had not anticipated … all she’d expected was to dance with her friends! She cleared her throat nervously. ‘Well … I don’t really know,’ she began. ‘I don’t know if I can, I mean, I’m not sure …’
She was sounding pathetic! Would anyone come to a function like this and not dance?
He waited there, half-standing aside to allow her to get up from her chair and Abigail gazed up at him, gazed up into his eyes … dark brown eyes, tired-looking eyes, she thought, the expression on his face gentle, unassuming. He spoke again.
‘I beg your pardon if you are not dancing this afternoon,’ he said. ‘I saw you sitting here alone, but I didn’t mean to intrude.’
He turned away as if to leave, and Abigail immediately stood up. ‘No, don’t go – yes – I mean, yes I would like to dance the waltz with you,’ she said, amazed at her own words.
Now he smiled, taking her hand and leading her down the steps to the ballroom floor. Without meaning to, Abigail decided to confide in this total stranger with the tired eyes. They stood for a moment and she looked up at him.
‘I think I should explain that I don’t really dance, and that I have never been to a dance before,’ she said. ‘And I have only had one or two lessons.’ She swallowed. ‘I mean, you may wish that you hadn’t asked me to partner you … and I hope I don’t tread on your feet or fall over or do something silly to embarrass you.’
He didn’t reply for a moment but slipped his arm around her waist and led her to join the throng. Then he spoke quietly in her ear.
‘Just leave everything to me.’
And Abigail could do nothing but relax and accept his words because now, holding her upright and quite close to him, he took the weight of her body in his arms as they began, actually lifting her so that her feet barely touched the floor. Then they were gliding … floating … the three-step rhythm effortless as he gently nudged against her legs so that Abigail knew exactly what to do as each second passed, with the whole room moving in the same direction. She was not going to fall over, she was not going to embarrass this stranger, or herself. She was loving every moment of this waltz!
It ended far sooner than she’d have liked, but now, once again taking her hand, he led her back up the balcony steps to the table, pulling out her chair for her to sit. But Abigail remained standing and looked up.
‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much for trusting yourself with me. And for guiding me in my very first attempt at dancing in public. Your expertise gave me the courage I didn’t think I had.’
He smiled down at her, his eyes brighter now. ‘You have no idea what courage you have given me this afternoon.’ He hesitated. ‘I have not danced for three years – not since my wife died. You see … we met at a dance hall when we were little more than teenagers, and spent many, many happy hours in ballrooms during our thirty years of marriage.’ He glanced around him. ‘We always enjoyed coming here,’ he added, ‘and as today happens to be our wedding anniversary, I just wanted to be among dancers. To be part of it and watch the enjoyment of others, though I had absolutely no intention of getting up myself,’ he said smiling. ‘Not without my lifelong partner with me. But I did, so thank you for giving me the emotional fortitude I needed.’
Feeling tears start behind her eyes, Abigail watched him make his way to the table at the far end by the steps which led to the exit. How strange, she thought, that you could feel you know someone after such a brief meeting. And they didn’t even know each other’s name.
But she sensed his overwhelming loss. Because she understood it.
Just then Eileen and Carrie came back, all smiles. ‘We saw you being swept off your feet, Abigail Wilson!’ Eileen exclaimed. ‘You looked absolutely professional dancing with that tall bloke! And your dress looked gorgeous swirling around as you moved.’
‘He was the professional,’ Abigail replied quietly, ‘and he made it very easy for me.’
Just then the waitress arrived with the cakes and fresh tea, and for the next twenty minutes or so the three girls enjoyed the sandwiches and pastries, all displayed on a tiered cake stand. And presently, taking it in turns, Eileen and Carrie led Abigail out on to the dance floor to waltz and quickstep – though she refused to attempt the foxtrot.
At five-thirty the MC announced the final dance. ‘You’ve been a wonderful crowd here this afternoon,’ he said through the microphone. ‘So everyone on their feet! With or without a partner – it doesn’t matter! Hook on to any lin
e which takes your fancy … and let’s go! Let’s enjoy that other all-time favourite … let’s do the palais glide!’
The girls jumped to their feet to join everyone else already waiting for the music to begin and then they were off. The three of them soon becoming five … then seven … And Abigail’s heart soared. This was the one she’d really been waiting for!
She looked around, searching the lines of dancers for her unexpected partner, half-hoping that he would hook on to their line.
But instead, glancing over to the exit, she saw him leave. Closing the door behind him.
25th June 1940
Gladys Matthews raised her head from her pillow, switched on her bedside lamp and glanced at her clock. It was eleven-forty and she’d only just started to feel sleepy when something made her stir uncomfortably. She sighed. The room was a bit stuffy, even though the window was slightly open. But it had been another warm day and the temperature didn’t seem to have dropped very much.
Leaning on one elbow, she reached for her glass of water and took a sip, just as there was a tap on the door and Eileen came in, tying the belt of her cotton dressing gown. She sat on the end of her mother’s bed.
‘Can’t you sleep either, Mother?’ Eileen said. ‘I came down for a glass of water and saw the light under your door. It’s so humid, isn’t it?’
Gladys Matthews nodded. ‘It’s not only that, I feel restless, Eileen. More so than usual, I mean. And it can’t be what we had for supper because I hardly had any, did I?’
‘No, and that might be the clue,’ Eileen said. ‘You might be hungry, so I’ll make you some warm milk and toast a slice of bread with a little Marmite. That may settle you.’
Before Mrs Matthews could reply, there was a loud rap on the front door, and they looked at each other in alarm. Who on earth could that be at this time of night?
Eileen immediately left the room to go and answer the door. Their next-door neighbour stood there, fully dressed. He spoke quietly, but urgently.
‘Get everyone up as quickly as you can,’ he said. ‘It’s just come through that enemy aircraft have been sighted coming across the Channel. It’s obviously totally unforeseen so that’s why there have been no sirens. But we need to get everyone down to the shelter – now!’
And at that very second the sirens did begin to wail. A loud, ear-splitting, menacing scream which kept coming and going in waves.
Everyone had been told exactly what they should do in such an emergency and over the weeks a considerable amount of practice had taken place in the very recently finished shelter, the children seeming to enjoy the novelty of going up and down the few earth steps into the cavernous hole beneath. But the months of peace and quiet which the country had enjoyed had given a false sense of security and it took Eileen a few seconds to take in the news. But then she sprang into action, returning swiftly to her mother and explaining everything before running up the stairs, two at a time, to wake Abigail.
But being woken by the sirens, Abigail had already clambered out of bed and had started dressing as Eileen thrust open the door.
‘We need to get to the shelter as soon as possible,’ Eileen said urgently, but before another word was spoken by either of them, Emily woke up, rubbing her eyes and starting to whimper.
‘What’s happening, Mummy? What’s that noise?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about, Emily,’ Eileen said briskly. ‘We’re going to be perfectly all right but we must get down to the shelter in a minute – you know – so that we are safe. Can you help Mummy by getting dressed while I go down and help Mrs Gladys? And look, I’m still in my dressing gown so I’d better hurry up, too, hadn’t I?’ She smiled quickly. ‘Mrs Gladys will be waiting for you to call for her, so be as quick as you can, darling.’
Without another word, Emily got out of bed and started getting dressed, putting on her dress and cardigan and pulling her long white socks straight up to her knees. Crouching down to help Emily put on her shoes, Abigail glanced up.
‘You’re such a good girl, Emily,’ she said, ‘and now we must get down to that shelter.’
‘Yes, Eileen just told us that,’ Emily said matter-of-factly. ‘But I can take dolly, can’t I? I don’t want to leave her here by herself.’
‘Of course dolly is coming!’ Abigail said. ‘Mrs Gladys would want us to bring her, wouldn’t she?’
‘Will Carrie be here in a minute?’ Emily said. ‘Will she be coming to the shelter with us?’
‘No, there’ll be no need for that because Carrie and her mother and father will be going to a shelter with their own neighbours. But we’ll be seeing her soon.’
Quickly, they left the bedroom and Emily ran down the stairs where Eileen and her mother were waiting. Emily went straight over to hold Mrs Matthews’ hand.
‘We’ve all got to go down to the shelter now, Mrs Gladys,’ she said conspiratorially, ‘but it’s just to keep us safe, so don’t worry.’ Emily smiled up. ‘Is that noise giving you a headache?’
Gladys Matthews returned the smile. ‘No – but I’ll be very glad when it stops, Emily.’
‘Now, Emily,’ Eileen said briskly, ‘your job is to look after our cushions. That’s right, cuddle them in to you. They’ll help to make those benches we’ll be sitting on a bit more comfy. And would you hold Mrs Gladys’s little shawl as well? The one she likes to keep around her neck? It’s going to be quite a lot colder in the shelter so we’ll have to sit nice and close together.’
Despite the complete – and unexpected – shock they all felt, a quiet acceptance of the situation, and the knowledge that they must always act quickly and without undue fuss, meant that in less than ten minutes they were ready to leave the house.
As they went through to the kitchen to let themselves out by the back door, Mrs Matthews turned to Eileen. ‘Are you sure we’ve not forgotten anything – I mean, have we got all our papers, you know, the important, personal stuff we were told not to leave behind?’
‘Don’t worry, Mother,’ Eileen said. ‘They’re all here safely in this bag: the insurance policies, deeds of the house, bank statements. I’m sure I haven’t forgotten anything, including,’ she added, ‘two large flasks of tea and plenty of biscuits and sweets to keep us going!’
They went out of the back door and made their way down the garden path, and Abigail, with her arm tightly around Emily’s waist, found herself wondering whether she was still in bed and having the strangest of dreams. It was almost midnight, the witching hour, and here they were, trudging over damp grass towards the shelter in that huge hole in the ground which had so recently been excavated, and which they hoped may protect them from falling bombs. And now that the sirens had stopped wailing, it was oddly quiet with just a few raised voices from outside calling to each other, and running footsteps in West Road as air raid wardens tried to round up people who didn’t know where they were going.
Glancing up at the clear night sky, criss-crossed, now, by the penetrating beam of search lights, it was perhaps the most surreal experience Abigail had ever had in her life.
She might even see Alice’s white rabbit run past her in a minute.
The following day, no one in the house woke very early after the night they’d endured. The deafening noise of the explosions above, and the incessant din of the anti-aircraft guns, had caused those in the shelter to cling to each other in fright, and to try to convince the few children present that this would soon be over.
But it was two-thirty before the all-clear had sounded, when everyone made their way to the surface wondering whether their houses were still there. But fortunately for West Road they seemed to have escaped totally undamaged.
Upstairs, with Emily still sound asleep, Abigail got dressed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Today was certainly going to be difficult, because what had happened outside? And should she go to work as usual?
Downstairs in the kitchen, Eileen and her mother were already there having their first cup of tea and listen
ing to the local radio station. Eileen put a cup of tea on the table for Abigail just as the news bulletin ended. Then, orchestral music began and Eileen switched off the wireless.
‘Well,’ Eileen said flatly, ‘apparently that was some raid last night. The details just given were not very expansive – it’s obviously better not to go public and release too much. “Listening Ears” and all that,’ she added, referring to the street hoardings telling everyone to ‘Keep Mum’ so as not to give the enemy any advantage, ‘but it appears that the bombers were making for Temple Meads.’ She made a face. ‘If we thought we were going to get away scot-free with this war, we were mistaken, weren’t we?’
Abigail sat down by Eileen’s mother. ‘Did you manage to get any sleep afterwards, Mrs Matthews?’ she said. ‘It took me a while, but Emily was out for the count in two minutes.’
‘I think I had about an hour,’ Gladys Matthews said, ‘but I am just thankful that we all came out of it alive and that we still have a house to live in.’
‘Yes – and I rang the vicarage a few minutes ago,’ Eileen said, ‘and they’re all OK. Carrie said that she and her mother spent the night in the shelter, though her father hadn’t joined them because he’d stayed with one of their parishioners who’s bedbound.’
Just then, the sound of the milkman leaving the bottles on the step made Eileen go and open the door to speak to him. After a few minutes she came back with the news.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘we can count our lucky chickens! He told me the details he’d heard – we did catch it in Knowle last night – and less than a mile from here! So did Bedminster! So it was a bit close for comfort, wasn’t it? He said that St Phillip’s and St Paul’s have copped it, too.’ Eileen bit her lip, clearly upset by what she’d heard. ‘There are bound to be many casualties,’ she said slowly, ‘but, isn’t it amazing – the chap said that as far as he could tell the buses seemed to be running, and he’d heard that all the shops have opened, too.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘What courage in the face of adversity.’
