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Orphans of War

Page 31

by Leah Fleming


  ‘I wish she’d sell the damn place and get herself a real life. She must get so lonely,’ Maddy replied, relaxing into the bucket seat.

  ‘Gloria’s a laugh, quite the little glamour girl. I’m surprised she’s hung around so long, what with her new career and her Ken.’

  ‘This Ken is very elusive,’ Maddy said. ‘According to Plum he’s not given her quite the opportunities she was dreaming about. No one has ever seen any of her portfolio shots. She’s very secretive but so desperately wants to do what I’m doing. She thinks my world is so glamorous and I keep telling her the truth of it. You saw us all hunched in the snow, standing frozen, waiting for the right light, take after take. Sometimes I get so fed up I want to scream, but it pays well, and I do get to some interesting places. I never know who I’m going to meet.’ They both laughed.

  ‘I bet there’s not many jobbing builders on your sites.’

  ‘There is now,’ she smiled, turning to him.

  ‘Oh, aye? And who’s that then?’ he joked. ‘Do you get much free time?’

  ‘Oh, it’s either a famine or a feast–frantic fittings for shows, photo shoots and sittings for magazines, and then sitting around waiting for the phone to ring. Miss Ffrost, my landlady, is not amused if I’m late with the rent.’

  ‘Could I take you out to dinner sometime soon, when you’re free?’ he asked, and his cheek was twitching with nerves.

  ‘I’d like that; then we could catch up properly. You have to tell me all about rally driving if you can bear to. I must say it looks pretty dangerous…’

  They smiled and nodded and sat this time in companionable silence. She kept pointing the way to the nearest bus stop but he’d have none of it and drove her straight home to Arncliffe Road.

  ‘Now I know where you live I can pick you up, but it won’t be in a Morgan, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Four wheels will be fine or shanks’s pony,’ she laughed. She hadn’t felt this happy for years.

  ‘Just the two of us, on Thursday night then?’

  ‘Thursday night it is,’ Maddy said as she made to get out of the car. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Remember when I rescued you last time, I got a reward,’ said Greg, leaning over the seat to kiss her.

  She didn’t resist but kissed him back on the cheek, waving him off until the car had gone from sight. Suddenly her suitcase was lighter, her step springier. He was still the old Greg after all.

  There was a message waiting on the hall table from Marshfields, asking her to report for some big buyer’s bash in Manchester from Wednesday until Thursday. Poor Greg would have to wait for his date and that thought gave her no pleasure at all.

  17

  In the weeks following that first chance encounter with Maddy, Greg couldn’t believe how his world had changed. They met every week when she was free but he was cautious. This was his first serious affair and he must pace himself.

  Maddy wasn’t one of his quick conquests. She was the sort of girl who would expect him to do things properly. It was ‘Gently Bentley’ with his lovemaking. There was all the time in the world now, but he couldn’t wait. He wanted to make her his own and treat her like she deserved, no matter what it cost.

  He sat on the rooftop looking out over the city, wanting to shout out to the world that he’d found his girl, the one who’d make him the proudest of men. He whistled on the job and the brickies wondered if he was drunk.

  He was drunk with the scent of her, the anticipation of meeting her outside Marshfields, even if there was only time for a cup of tea in the station buffet before she disappeared off across the Pennines on another assignment.

  Now there was something more in his life than making money, he thought as he whistled away, something more than creating yet more business. He was besotted with his princess.

  Now he even noticed children in prams–perhaps one day they might have a family of their own–but most of all he felt that he wasn’t alone any more. Every day and evening they spent together was magical. She took him to an orchestral concert in the Town Hall, quite highbrow stuff for a rough chap like him, but the music stirred him. Then they spent a morning going round the City Art Gallery. They ate a picnic in Roundhay Park, in the car, because it was still cold, and climbed the Cow and Calf on top of Ilkley Moor. They kissed each other until he ached with wanting her, but he sensed hesitation, a reluctance to go too far so he tried not to rush things. Maddy was respectable, his perfect princess, and he still couldn’t believe she could look at him twice-but the miracle was that when she did, he was putty in her hands.

  ‘What’s got into you this evening?’ snapped Ken Silverstone, trying to focus his lens in on Gloria’s plump breast. ‘Your skin’s gone all blotchy. Go and powder them down.’

  His subject got up from the rug and wrapped a dressing gown over her body. She wasn’t in the mood for looking sexy and come hither, dressed in only a red velvet cloak with a cotton wool trim that smelled of other unwashed bodies.

  Plum had had another letter from Maddy saying she’d lunched with Greg Byrne in a big hotel by the Otley road. He’d spared no expense. They walked in a nearby park and had got tickets for the Grand Theatre for the weekend.

  This was not how it was supposed to be. She was seeing too much of him. Greg was Gloria’s challenge and target. Maddy had enough opportunities to meet with rich cronies; she didn’t need to poach the one decent man to come into Gloria’s life.

  Ken had his moments, in a gruff Yorkshire sort of way, but he talked rough, and was a bit common. He’d made a real fuss of her and one night after a drink too many he’d shown her what’s what in the love department, shown her how it all fitted together. It had been a bit disappointing, going all the way on a stained rug in the studio, a bit overrated, a push and shove and, Bob’s your uncle, it was all over.

  He’d suggested it was good for her career to have experience so she could have the look in her eye that men would recognise, the ‘I’ll give you a good time’ look that suggested she’d be fun in bed. It might give them a thrill, but she’d felt nothing but pain and embarrassment.

  At least he’d worn a rubber johnnie. There must be no accidents. Maddy’s mess had taught that–and Mam’s too. It was all a thunder of nothing, as far as she was concerned, but Ken seemed to get excited when he took shots, fiddling with himself and getting worked up so they ended up rolling on the floor. He then carried on taking his shots naked and she thought how silly he looked, and how stupid she looked in these costumes. ‘Mother Christmas in Santa’s Grotto!’ This was not how she’d expected to end up. It was all so cheap and made her feel dirty. Why did she keep doing it then?

  He’d even asked her to do some shots with Rita, who did more specialised angles, he called them, wanting them to lie together and do silly stuff but she told him straight to cut it out, she wasn’t that sort of girl and she didn’t want to be his model any more if this was how he saw her. She was fed up at never seeing any of her shots. When she asked to do respectable work he’d laughed at her.

  ‘Listen, love, this is all you’re fit for. Once a tart, always a tart!’ That was when she slapped him hard and he hit her back, and things were getting nasty.

  ‘I’m off! I’m not coming back,’ she’d screamed. ‘You can find another muggings!’

  ‘There’s plenty more fish in the sea, darling,’ he’d sneered. ‘You’re not that special. Anyway, you like it really. You’ll be back. There’s a club I know that could give you a slot, stripping for gentlemen. Now that would get you on a circuit–free booze…instant stardom, Gloria. My Little Miss Redhead does it again!’

  She should’ve walked out there and then, but she didn’t, and now she was back doing silly Easter Bunny shots. Why was she still pretending there was any future in this but dirty postcards?

  Yet something happened when she climbed those wooden stairs to the studio that made her feel important and special and sexy. Here she was Gloria, the model, a star in her own right, not just a poor relation or a domest
ic in someone else’s house. When she posed under those lights it felt as if she had an audience of hundreds drooling over her body. Ken was very persuasive, with his presents and drinks. This was her secret world no one knew about but her, where her body had the power to stir men’s lusts, or so Ken said. This was where she felt secure, in some strange way, noticed and wanted.

  If only people in Sowerthwaite knew what she got up to on her evening off…but it was cold outside and her skin had come up into a pink mottled rash and she was brassed off at not getting a date with Greg on his own because Maddy had got there first.

  They’d had one foursome with his mate Charlie Afton, a blokey sort of man, nothing about him at all but a line of garages. He’d sat in the cinema not saying a word, separating her from Maddy and Greg and doing nothing to show he was interested in her. If only she could get Greg on his own he’d soon see what he was missing. He had to know there was another offer on the table from a girl who knew what it was like to be poor and shunted around, but who’d make a lovely home for him.

  Now there was talk of him coming over for the weekend. It was her turn to charm the pants off him, dazzle him and seduce him good and proper. Maddy had had her chances in Leeds.

  Gloria needed Greg to give her a better chance in life. Maddy must have plenty of suitors. She wouldn’t miss Greg. She didn’t need him to help her career or support her. It wasn’t right to steal from your friend, Gloria thought, but sometimes you have to take your chance, grab the life raft and cling on in stormy waters.

  She would cook up some delicious stews, buy a whole new outfit with the funny coupons Ken had got hold of, have her hair restyled. This was where the photo money came in handy. She might not be up to Maddy’s dizzy heights although she could cut a dash in her own way–but she must clear a path to get Greg alone. There must be no competition.

  Gloria powdered down her red skin with talc and hoped it would do the trick. She went back into the darkness, pinning a grin on her face. The show must go on for a while longer, even if it was beginning to pall.

  Next morning she was walking across the footpath to the shops with the dogs. A Yorkshire spring was still a long time coming, the wind whistling through the bare branches as she opened the rusting iron gate into the Old Vic yard. The hostel was now let out into lodging rooms for mill workers but she still used the short cut.

  The great beech tree towered above her, buds now visible; a promise of summer to come, but without Greg it was all so pointless. She paced around the trunk in a frenzy of frustration.

  I must have him. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. He’ll never be suited to Maddy. Why can’t anyone see that? She’s not for him.

  Her frustration was like a ravenous hunger inside, this need to make Greg Byrne love only her. She stood entranced for minutes under the tree, its outline silhouetted against the leaden sky. It’s V-shape like two fingers into the sky, defiant.

  How it brought back memories of their wartime escapades, living up the tree, forever friends, those posting boxes in the bark of its trunk where they had played spies sending messages, of being in a gang of off-comers in that first freezing winter, of getting Maddy’s news all wrong, of being second best.

  Then she recalled that terrible night in the hostel when, blinded by fear, she’d helped Maddy deliver the baby and hidden the evidence. It was something they had both blotted out from their lives. Neither of them had spoken of it again, acting as if it never happened, whether through shame or guilt, she didn’t know.

  Now the remembrance of that night rose up, blinding her with sudden knowledge.

  There was a way…oh, yes, there was a way: all was fair in love and war, they said.

  She owed Maddy nothing but Maddy owed her a great deal. It was because of her that Maddy was free now to be a mannequin and lead such a glamorous life. No one would have looked at her twice with a baby on her hip. Why should Maddy have all the chances when her own life was going nowhere? Only Greg had brought excitement into it and even that was threatened by Maddy’s charm.

  Neither girl would be young for ever, but Maddy would always have Brooklyn and her inheritance, her connections and plenty of men of her own class to choose from.

  Gloria needed Greg and his ambitions to give her a well-deserved lift in her rough life. Maddy would just have do without him.

  Gloria recoiled at these angry devious thoughts. It was not going to be a very friendly thing to do but she must take her chance when it came. Maddy would thank her in the end. A plan was forming in her mind and she had the Victory Tree to thank for it.

  Gloria strode into town, heading into the wild wind with a smile on her face. To the victor the spoils. Who’d have thought their school motto would come in so useful?

  Maddy peered into the powder-room mirror with satisfaction for once, touching up her lipstick and perfume. The peacock satin ball gown shimmered under the lights, the satin elbow gloves decorated with motifs in blue, black and green sequins sparkled, and she felt her heart skipping with anticipation.

  She’d asked Greg to be her partner at Marshfields’ annual charity ball. They’d got a whole evening of dancing in front of them. It was all so romantic and she wanted this night to go on for ever. She’d been looking forward to it for weeks. Greg coming into her life was the best thing ever, better than having Monty to ride, making exits down the catwalk under the spotlight, better than Christmas. She wasn’t alone any more: there was someone to share all her gossip and mess-ups, someone to wait for at the end of the day.

  Plum and Gloria, kind as they were, faded into the background, being so far away, but Greg was close at hand and such fun. He took her to the fair and they spun on the waltzers and drove the Dodgems; he bought her candy floss and silly toys. He’d taken her to her first football match, screaming Leeds United to victory in the pouring rain. He’d showed her around his latest building site like a king striding over his castle. Greg was so enthusiastic and thoughtful. She’d never been so happy in all her life. What she had felt for Dieter was puppy love, just as Aunt Plum had said, a rehearsal for the big event. She’d been so young and impressionable then.

  Greg was rough but he had been there in that terrible time in her life when Mummy and Daddy were lost. He was all mixed up with Brooklyn but he had gone on to find his own way unaided: a warrior who’d found a good friend in Charlie, a businessman who worked as hard as any navvy. He could mix with all types and not be overawed. He loved the countryside as much as she did. He was the only man who’d known her when she was inflicted with her squint. It didn’t matter that he was not public school or a professional, that he was struggling to make his dreams come true. He was all she ever wanted in a man. Was this how Daddy must have felt when he met Dolly Mills over a piano stool? Class barriers hadn’t bothered them. They knew they were soul mates, and Maddy sensed now she had found hers.

  The Assembly Rooms were festooned with flowers and hothouse plants, the dinner was over and now it was time for dancing the night away. Work had taken her away from him lately–buyers’ parades, the new season’s range to model–but this night had been kept clear. Tonight was her turn to show him off to the world; this thoughtful man who left flowers on the doorstep after a long day, letters and cards in the post. He often waited for her late into the evening to bring her home, foot sore and weary. He cooked her the only thing he could make, hot vegetable broth and grilled chops, in his little flat off Mornington Road. There was always his cheery taxi service to rely on.

  It wasn’t hard to fall in love with this dashing young man in his borrowed tuxedo. She needed to repay his generosity with a gesture all of her own. All the other mannequins lusted after him. She knew Gloria found him attractive too, but Greg was her man, her future and she was so lucky to have found him again.

  Tonight the orchestra were playing all their favourite tunes: ‘I’d Like to Get You on a Slow Boat to China’, ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’, ‘Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better’, which they mimed and laughed,
and then he took her into his arms for the slow croony tunes.

  Maddy wanted this night to go on for ever as they sat together in comfortable silence, smoking and watching the other dancers drifting across the floor under the spotlight. There was a smell of perfume, leather seats, cigar smoke and lust in the air.

  When you were so in love, words were not necessary; just eyes catching and holding, fingers caressing each other through satin gloves.

  All too soon the band played the National Anthem and it was time to go.

  Greg hoped his surprise would go down well. He felt nervous about asking her to the hotel he’d booked nearby. He wanted to show her how much he loved her. He sensed she was nervous about lovemaking, holding him at arm’s length. Alone together for a night they could relax and take all the time in the world. It was his way of saying thank you for the expensive tickets. She hadn’t let him pay and that unnerved him at first. Charlie had loaned him his dinner jacket but his patent leather shoes had pinched him all evening.

  Tonight was made for being as close as a man and woman could be, he mused as he waited while she collected the little white fox fur cape that Plum had given her. She looked so sophisticated. She kissed him on the ear and smiled, ‘Home, James.’

  ‘I’ve got a surprise. I hope you’ll like it,’ he whispered, leading her by the hand out of the foyer into the chill night.

  ‘Not another of Charlie’s flash taxis? You’ve spent enough money.’

  ‘No need,’ he said. ‘Look over there…The George. We can go in there now.’

  Maddy smiled and looked across. ‘For a drink? The bar’s closed by now.’

  ‘But the hotel’s not. I’ve booked us a room,’ he said, waiting for the hug that didn’t come.

  ‘Thanks, but I’d better not. It’s late and I’ve got an early start,’ she said, and he felt her stiffen as if he’d said something wrong.

  ‘I’ve booked us a room,’ he insisted. ‘I thought you and I might like…’

 

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