Brides of War

by June Tate

‘Is something wrong?’ she heard the concern in his voice.

  ‘No, no everything is fine, only I’ve now got my green card and I wondered if you knew of a job going anywhere.’

  He let out a sigh of relief. ‘I can ask around if you like. Give me a couple of days. Where’s Jeff? I assume he’s out or you wouldn’t have called.’

  ‘Yes, he’s out for the evening.’

  ‘Playing poker?’

  ‘Yes, with his friends. But I don’t want to talk about that.’

  ‘Meet me in the diner on Monday morning,’ he said, ‘around eleven o’clock and I’ll see what I can do, OK?’

  ‘Thanks Rick, I’ll do that.’

  On Sunday morning, Jeff announced they were going to his parent’s house for lunch. ‘Ma’s complaining that she hasn’t seen us since we moved.’

  Seen you, not me, Gracie thought. She couldn’t refuse so, with a sinking feeling, she left the apartment, dreading the next few hours.

  Velda barely greeted her when they arrived but, thankfully, Ben was more welcoming. ‘How are you settling in, Gracie?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine, thanks. It’s all a bit strange. I’ve just about got used to American money and walking around a grocery store, helping myself instead of going into the shops and being served. I’m also surprised at all the packets of cake mix. At home we don’t have that, we make our cakes from scratch.’

  ‘Are you saying that they aren’t as good?’ Velda took her remark personally.

  ‘Not at all. I’ve never tried one, I cook the way I’ve been taught.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should before you make such remarks!’

  Gracie didn’t argue. If Velda wanted a fight she’d have to have one on her own.

  The following three hours were difficult. Velda made a point of spoiling her son, piling food on his plate and inferring that he wasn’t being fed properly since leaving home. To his credit, Jeff praised his wife’s cooking, which didn’t sit well with his mother, and Gracie was relieved when it was time for them to go. Rick hadn’t made an appearance and she wondered where he was, but his name wasn’t mentioned and she didn’t ask.

  On Monday morning, Gracie rushed around tidying the house, then set out for the diner to meet Rick. They met at the door. He kissed her and held the door open for her. They both had a club sandwich and coffee.

  ‘I hear you came to lunch with the folks,’ he said.

  Gracie pulled a face. ‘Yes, your mother really wanted to see Jeff not me.’

  ‘She’s certain you’re starving her boy, you know?’ His eyes twinkled with amusement.

  ‘Oh yes, she made that perfectly clear.’ She bit into her sandwich. ‘This is so good,’ she remarked.

  He started laughing. ‘Yes, indeed and it doesn’t come out of a packet!’

  ‘Oh, she told you about that too!’

  ‘Yes, then I took off. I know Ma too well, she’d have carried on and on. Don’t let her get to you honey, she’s an embittered old woman. Anyway I have some news that’ll cheer you up.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’ve found a job for you, if you’re interested. The wife of a friend of mine has a clothes store on the other side of town. Goldstone Parade, do you know it?’

  Gracie did, it was in a more upmarket part of town and she’d seen it when she’d been driving around in the car with Jeff.

  ‘Yes, of course, it’s the smarter part, with small exclusive stores.’

  ‘True. But this store sells T-shirts and shorts, shoes and accessories, a little quirky but very popular and they’re looking for someone. She thought an English girl would be interesting, you know how we Yanks love to hear the English accent?’ He took a card from his pocket. ‘Here, give her a call. She’s a nice woman and you two should get on. You can catch a bus right to the door.’

  She read the card. ‘Thanks Rick, I’m really grateful.’

  ‘Just promise me one thing, Gracie.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Do you have your own bank account?’ When she shook her head he said, ‘Then open one and put your wages in it, don’t let Jeff get his hands on it, please.’

  ‘Why are you saying that?’

  ‘You don’t want your earnings to end up on a poker table do you?’

  She looked at him in horror. ‘Do you think that’s a possibility?’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  She knew he was right. The money she still had from her savings and the few extra dollars she’d been given when Jeff won money, she’d hidden. A bank account would be safer. ‘Yes, I’ll do that.’

  ‘Good. Are things alright at the moment?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’ve come to an arrangement and so far it’s working.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath honey, I know my brother. Look, I’ve got to go. Good luck and I’ll see you again soon to see how you make out.’ He kissed her, paid the check and left.

  Gracie ordered another coffee and read the card again. A job would be a lifesaver. It would fill her time, she’d meet more people, maybe make friends, but what was more important, she could begin to save for a rainy day. But as her mother always said, It’s mad money, love. When you get mad, you’ve got money to go where you like. Well this would be hers!

  Two days later, Gracie was on the bus, on her way to her interview. Her heart pounding, nerves tense, praying she’d be successful. The bus stopped at the parade as Rick had said. She was a little early, so she walked the length of the shops, loving what she saw. There were small stores selling furniture, another electrical goods, a couple of dress shops and eventually, Milly, the one she was looking for. In the windows were T-shirts, handbags, jewellery, sports shoes, sportswear, blouses, all manner of unusual bits and pieces. She loved the look of it and opened the door.

  The young blonde woman behind the counter looked up. She was dressed in a T-shirt with I Love the Rockies emblazoned on the front, a pair of shorts and her blonde hair tied back with a daisy on a band, and her long nails painted different colours. Gracie took to her immediately.

  ‘Hi,’ said the girl, ‘are you Gracie Rider?’

  ‘Yes I am.’

  ‘Come on in, I’m Milly Roberts. It’s an English name, my husband’s great grandparents came from the old country.’

  ‘Really? Do you know where from?’

  ‘Some place called Coventry, do you know it?’

  ‘No, but it was badly bombed during the war.’

  The girl frowned. ‘Gee that’s awful.’

  The two of them talked, Milly showed Gracie all the things in the store, took her to the stock room, explained how they liked to work, then asked how she liked living in America.

  ‘It’s very different of course, but I expected that,’ she told her. ‘But I need to work, I can’t sit around all day doing nothing.’

  Milly listened closely. ‘Gee, I love the way you Limeys talk,’ she said. ‘My customers will love you. When can you start?’

  Gracie was delighted. ‘Next week if you like!’

  They discussed a salary and Milly said she’d pay for her bus fares as well. They had a coffee in the back room to celebrate.

  ‘I’m sure glad Rick mentioned you were looking for a job.’

  ‘Do you know him well?’ asked Gracie curious to know about their friendship.

  ‘He’s a friend of my husband, Chuck. They’ve know each other since their school days.’

  Gracie rode home on the bus, thrilled to know she would be earning her own money. She’d taken her savings to the bank the previous day and opened an account, taking Rick’s advice.

  When Jeff came home that evening, she was full of excitement and told him about getting the job and how much she was looking forward to it, what the shop was like and how she and Milly got along so well.

  ‘Milly? Not Milly Roberts?’

  ‘Yes, do you know her?’

  ‘We went to school together, she married a friend of Rick’s.’

  ‘Really, what a coincidence. S
he didn’t say she knew you.’ No way was she going to tell Jeff how she got to know about the job. She knew that would only start another row. If he knew she’d seen his brother and that he’d helped her, he’d blow his top.

  The next Monday morning, Gracie dressed in a pretty blouse and skirt and set off for her first day of employment in a foreign country.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Valerie wasn’t the only one reading the New York Times that morning, Gloria Johnson was leafing through the paper whilst having breakfast when she saw Valerie’s name. She put down her toast and read the art review. Then she read it again and rose from the table, walked over to the telephone and rang her son.

  ‘Hello Mother, what can I do for you?’

  ‘Have you read the New York Times this morning?’

  ‘I have and I imagine you have too?’

  ‘What does it mean? I had no idea that Valerie was an artist. You never mentioned it to me!’

  He could hear the indignation in her voice and smiled to himself, knowing how this would annoy her. She liked to be in touch with everything that was going on within the family, so she could orchestrate things.

  ‘I knew she liked sketching,’ Ross said, ‘but to be honest I thought it was just a hobby. But she’s been attending art classes and Max Brennen has been giving her lessons too. She’s actually very talented and I didn’t realise this myself until last night.’

  ‘This article is by Carl Blackmore! You know who he is don’t you?’

  Ross lit a cigarette, knowing Gloria he knew this was going to be a long conversation. ‘Of course, I do. I spoke to him at the viewing, he praised Valerie’s work, in fact he bought one of her paintings.’

  ‘Actually bought one … for money?’

  ‘Yes, Mother, American dollars!’ He tried not to laugh. It gave him a certain satisfaction to find his mother so disconcerted.

  ‘What are you going to do about all this?’ she asked.

  ‘Absolutely nothing! I will, of course, encourage her to continue. Valerie’s a success and will be continuing to paint. She’s going to be a star in the art world and that has to be a good thing for both of us. Perhaps now, you will show her a little more respect!’ He could hear Gloria blustering over his remark, but before she could say another word he said, ‘Sorry, but I have to go, I’ve a call waiting,’ and he hung up.

  He sat back in his chair with a feeling of great satisfaction. Of course, he’d encourage Valerie. He saw last night the people who were interested in her work, folk who were wealthy and who might need a good lawyer in the future. Nothing but good could come from this. He would make sure he was around, so she could introduce him to her patrons. Not once did he think what a talented wife he had and how happy he was for her.

  In the meantime, Max and Valerie were out celebrating. They took a buggy ride around Central Park while eating their pasties, talking about the previous evening.

  ‘What happens now, Max?’ Valerie asked.

  ‘I suggest you leave the art class. Continue with your watercolours, whilst I teach you how to paint in oils.’

  This really excited her and she loved the idea. ‘That would be wonderful, I have always admired that medium, but will you have the time?’

  With a broad grin he said, ‘I’ll make time. Apart from which, I’ll expect you to accompany me to other venues as we need to publicise your pictures.’

  ‘Other venues? You mean viewings?’

  ‘In a way, fashion shows, first nights, we need your picture in the papers. Give you a public image. There is a charity auction next week at the Waldorf Astoria; we’ll go to that. Formal wear, so dig out a fancy gown. There will be a dinner first, then the auction. You don’t have to buy anything, just show up. I’ll buy the tickets.’

  ‘Oh, Max let me buy them out of the money I made the other evening. It will be my way of paying you back.’

  ‘No, this is my treat. I hope your husband won’t mind you coming?’

  With a naughty twinkle in her eye, she said, ‘I don’t really care if he does, it’ll teach him not to be so condescending about my work.’

  ‘That’s my girl! Come on, we’ll have lunch at the Tavern on the Green and celebrate.’ He instructed the driver of the buggy and they moved off.

  When that evening Valerie told Ross she would be going to a charity dinner at the Waldorf Astoria, he was delighted. ‘I’ll get my tux cleaned,’ he said.

  ‘That won’t be necessary, Ross. Max is taking me; he’s bought the tickets. It’s for publicity, of course,’ she added, secretly enjoying the moment.

  ‘Oh, I see, yes, of course.’ Ross looked surprised, but there was nothing more to be said.

  ‘In the meantime, I’ll be working, building up my stock as it were, for the next exhibition,’ she said casually.

  ‘When will that be?’

  Shrugging she said, ‘I don’t know, but Max will arrange it when the time is right.’

  ‘I hope you’re not letting Max Brennen take over your life.’ he said somewhat tersely.

  ‘Like your mother, you mean? No, but he’s the reason for my success don’t forget and he’s my agent after all.’

  And I’ll make damned sure that’s all he is, Ross thought angrily. He didn’t like not being in charge, but here he had no choice and knew, if his wife was to be a success, she needed Max and, if he wanted to profit from it, he needed him too, but he wasn’t happy about the situation.

  The charity evening was a glittering affair. Outside the hotel was a red carpet and news cameras, vying for position with those from the WNBT New York television station, for those who had sets in their home.

  Max, resplendent in a dinner jacket, held Valerie’s arm as they posed for the cameras. She was dressed in an emerald green gown, which was simply cut, just off the shoulders, the bodice swathed across her body, with a flowing skirt that showed her slim figure and décolletage to perfection. She wore a pair of long diamond earrings and her hair was dressed in a chignon. She was a picture of elegance and the reporters loved her. She turned this way and that at their request, before thanking them politely and walking into the hotel.

  Max squeezed her arm. ‘You look amazing Mrs Johnson and I feel a lucky guy to be your escort for the night.’

  She was delighted. ‘You look pretty good yourself, Mr Brennen. I think we make an impressive couple.’

  They checked the table list and made their way across the dining room. Many people greeted Max as he passed; he smiled and waved in return until they reached the table. Valerie was surprised to see Carl Blackmore sitting there. He rose from his seat.

  ‘Valerie, my dear, for your sins, you’re placed next to me.’

  ‘How marvellous! I’ll love that,’ she said and sat down, Max sat beside her.

  He grinned at her and said, ‘An English rose between two thorns!’

  The evening was a great success. The meal was fabulous, the champagne flowed and after the meal, the auction began. Valerie was filled with excitement as she listened to the prizes on offer. A week in the Bahamas, a weekend in Las Vegas, theatre tickets, a car, credit at Sak’s Fifth Avenue and so on. She couldn’t believe the huge amounts of money being offered.

  Seeing her delight, Max leant towards her and softly said, ‘There, didn’t I tell you this city was the place to have fun?’

  ‘Oh, Max you did and when I’m with you it’s always fun.’

  He looked at her, holding her gaze with his. ‘I’m so pleased you feel that way because when we’re together, I feel the same.’

  It suddenly felt as if there was no one else in the room, just the two of them caught in a moment of time.

  ‘Five hundred dollars!’ Carl Blackmore boomed, making a bid, bringing them both back to the present.

  As they left the hotel, Max said, ‘I don’t want to go home yet, do you? I’m too pumped up.’

  ‘I feel just the same,’ she agreed. ‘Tonight was so exciting I don’t feel at all sleepy.’

  Max hailed a passi
ng cab. ‘Come on, we’ll go to a nightclub to round up the evening.’

  When they arrived at their destination, they were ushered to a table in a roomful of customers. The place was lit with soft lighting, busy waiters and a four-piece band was playing for those who wanted to dance. Max ordered a bottle of champagne and then led Valerie onto the floor. Glenn Miller’s String of Pearls was being played as he drew her into his arms.

  She melted against him as they traversed the floor, neither of them speaking. Valerie closed her eyes as they danced. She felt at ease and comfortable, as if it was right being there with this man who was about to change her life. The scent of Max’s aftershave wafted between them and she could feel the warmth of his body against hers and thought it felt good.

  Returning to their table, they drank the champagne and made plans.

  ‘How do you fancy appearing in Vogue magazine?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’ She couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly.

  ‘I had a call yesterday from the editor, she wants to do an article and pictures, featuring you.’

  ‘Vogue? Are you crazy?’

  He found this amusing. ‘No, I’m serious. Valerie, you are a beautiful woman, apart from which you have such an air of elegance that the editor was really excited about doing a fashion shoot with you. It would give you publicity that some women would die for!’

  She started laughing.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘I’d love to do it, not for the publicity, which would be marvellous, but just to see my mother-in-law’s and Ross’s ex-girlfriend’s faces when they saw it!’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Johnson senior has quite a reputation as a harridan. She’s involved with several committees and isn’t particularly popular – but her money talks.’

  ‘When do they want to do it?’

  ‘Next week, then it can go into the following month’s issue, but I have to let her know in the morning, they’re holding the pages until then.’

  ‘Then tell them yes! I’d like to keep this a secret from Ross, if you don’t mind. It’ll be a surprise for him too.’