by Annie Groves
‘Cocktail please!’ said Laura at once. ‘I don’t mind which, surprise me.’
‘Lemonade for me,’ said Marjorie, but then shook her head. ‘Oh, what the heck. A martini.’
‘A shandy,’ said Kitty, sticking to what had become her favourite. Elliott even talked differently when he was with Laura, she thought. It was as if they shared a common language, that of the wealthy, who were accustomed to nights out in the capital city. She felt left out. She didn’t like it at all. It brought up all her anxieties about him – why had he chosen her, when he could have had anyone of his own class? Last night it hadn’t seemed to matter and she had revelled in his company and fitting in with his circle. Now she felt all that shatter. Her fragile new-found confidence evaporated. Laura was his type and she wasn’t, that was all there was to it.
‘Penny for ’em,’ Laura said to her now. ‘I say, Elliott’s a dark horse, isn’t he? You never said he could get us into places like this.’
‘I didn’t know,’ said Kitty, wondering if her doubts were evident in her voice. But Laura didn’t seem to notice.
‘I can’t wait for the band to come on,’ her friend continued. ‘I bet the dancing here will be tremendous. Do you think he might give me a spin?’
‘I’m sure he will,’ said Kitty, certain that Elliott would like nothing better than to take to the dance floor with the glamorous Laura. They would look perfect together. Even her hair would make the ideal contrast with his, which Kitty’s own didn’t. She had been an idiot to imagine they’d come out and he’d want to stay at her side all evening. She would just have to steel herself against the inevitable disappointment. She wouldn’t show how she felt; she wouldn’t spoil everyone else’s evening by making a scene.
‘Kitty, are you all right?’ Elliott had returned from the bar with the drinks and sat down beside her. He gazed at her with concern. ‘You seem very quiet. Here, have some of this. Doctor’s orders.’ He smiled warmly at her as he set the half of shandy on the little table with its spindly metal legs.
‘Thank you,’ said Kitty, obediently taking a sip. It didn’t taste as good as it usually did. She realised he was waiting for an answer. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, I’m just a bit hot, that’s all.’
She was saved from saying more by the arrival of the band on the stage, smart in sharply pressed suits, their instruments gleaming. A cheer went up around the room and several couples rushed to take their places on the dance floor.
‘Well, if you’re hot, maybe Elliott wouldn’t mind if I borrowed him?’ Laura asked, clearly desperate to be one of the first to dance. ‘Sorry, Elliott, you’ll think me dreadfully forward.’
Yes, exactly, said Kitty sadly to herself, keeping her thoughts from her face with some difficulty.
‘Not at all,’ said Elliott gallantly, rising to his feet. ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, Kitty?’
‘Of course not,’ said Kitty. She looked down at her drink so they wouldn’t see her expression.
The music began and the dancers started to move, some ineptly but most with assured rhythm, making it all seem effortless. The musicians were top class, filling the room with an infectious tune, and everyone began to tap their feet. Elliott was in his element, spinning Laura around at exactly the right moment, and Kitty remembered the wonderful sensation of being in his arms, seeming to float as he skilfully led her through the moves. He had made her feel as if she too was a dance champion – that was the skill of the true expert. With a sinking heart she acknowledged that Laura was a wonderful dancer and the combination of the two of them was well nigh flawless.
‘They’re awfully good, aren’t they,’ breathed Marjorie. ‘I knew Laura was, of course, but when she’s got a proper partner, she’s like something out of a film.’
‘You’re right,’ said Kitty, struggling to get the words out.
‘You never said Elliott was such a good dancer,’ Marjorie went on, oblivious to her friend’s distress.
‘He was a champion when he was a medical student,’ Kitty told her. ‘Him and his fiancée.’
‘Oh, was he engaged?’ Marjorie asked, curious. ‘What happened? Was it the war?’
‘No, she died before it began,’ said Kitty, twisting the sleeve of her bolero on her lap. ‘She was his professor’s daughter.’ The sort of girl he should be with, she thought despondently. One who could keep up with him on the dance floor and in any conceivable social situation. Not like her. She gulped down the rest of her drink, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but here.
Marjorie finally took the hint and didn’t press her with any more questions. After what seemed like an eternity, the tune ended and some of the couples broke away and returned to their seats. Laura led Elliott back to the table, but was claimed by a tall man in a naval uniform before she could sit down.
‘Would you care for a dance? I noticed you were rather good on your feet …’
Laura looked at him briefly, making one of her instant assessments, and accepted. She raised her eyebrows at Kitty and Marjorie over her shoulder as she returned to the fray.
‘How are you now, Kitty?’ Elliott glanced at her glass. ‘Gosh, you really must have been hot. Shall I get you another?’
‘No, don’t bother,’ Kitty said hurriedly. She made a fuss of refolding her bolero as a man in army uniform came shyly across and spoke to Marjorie. Marjorie exchanged a few words with him and then rose to take his hand and head for the dance floor too.
Elliott turned to face Kitty and rested his arm along the back of her chair. ‘Kitty, what is it? You aren’t yourself this evening. We had a lovely walk this afternoon and you were all right then, but now you’ve gone terribly quiet. Are you ill? You should have said, we didn’t have to come out.’
Kitty wouldn’t meet his gaze. ‘It’s nothing, honestly.’ She would rather have died than admit how she felt. What sort of person resented their friends having a good time? She must face up to the fact that Laura was so much more suitable for Elliott in every way and get used to the idea.
‘Kitty, look at me.’ Elliott was insistent. ‘Listen, we can go home if you’d rather. I don’t want you to put up with a stuffy club just for me. I don’t want you to be unhappy.’
Suddenly it was all too much and Kitty gave a stifled sob.
‘My darling girl, whatever is it?’ Elliott’s arms were round her in a second. ‘Has something happened? Was it when I went home to my parents to change – did you get a letter or something?’
All at once his warm reassurance worked its magic and Kitty felt her fears fade away. She hastened to set him right. ‘No, no, nothing like that.’ She sighed and rested her head on his broad shoulder. ‘It was something really silly. I saw the way you and Laura were dancing and I thought … well, I thought … just how good you looked together. Better than I look with you. I’m sorry, I don’t want to make a fuss.’
Elliott rocked her gently. ‘My darling girl, don’t be worried. Yes, your friend Laura is a marvellous dancer, but she’s not a patch on you. She’s fast and she’s funny and you’re lucky to have a good friend like that – I feel safer for knowing you have such lively and interesting companions when we’re so many miles apart. But you dance with your heart, Kitty. Just because you aren’t as polished as she is doesn’t mean you’re any worse. I love dancing with you – it’s another excuse to hold you close. Don’t worry about Laura, you silly sausage. She can’t hold a candle to you.’ He pulled back and gazed at her face. ‘My beautiful Kitty.’
Kitty gave a final sniff and shook her head. ‘Don’t listen to me, I’m being ridiculous. I know that now. It’s because … well, I love dancing with you too. We’ve had such a lovely time this weekend, please do forget me spoiling it like this. I don’t want to ruin your leave, it’s too precious.’
Elliott brushed her cheek with one gentle finger. ‘You could never spoil anything for me, Kitty. I’m privileged to have spent my weekend with you, I mean it. I can’t remember being so happy.’
‘Really?’
Her eyes shone with delight and just a little relief.
‘Really. I wouldn’t lie to you – I’m a doctor, remember?’ She laughed at the familiar joke as one tune ended and another began. ‘And now, Miss Callaghan, may I have the honour of the next dance?’
Kitty rose to her feet, her anxieties thrust aside like the foolish notions they were. ‘You may, Dr Fitzgerald, I would be honoured.’
Together they made their way on to the crowded dance floor and began to move, holding one another tight, in perfect rhythm, oblivious to the many envious glances all around them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘I can’t bear to think you have to go back tomorrow, Jack.’ Rita found it hard to believe that the all-too- brief hours of his leave were almost over. They had had such a wonderful day on the farm and the children had been all over him, begging him not to go when they’d finally set off in the cart to return home to Empire Street. Rita had kept smiling, even though she felt exactly the same way. Michael had clearly thought that if he hugged Jack hard enough he wouldn’t need to leave. Rita only wished that were true. Now they were standing in the little back yard of the shop. Jack had managed to do the much-needed repairs to the damaged wall in the last of the fading daylight.
‘You know I’d rather be here, even if I can’t be with you,’ he said, laying down his trowel and wiping his hands on the old rag she’d found for him. ‘But those ships won’t defend themselves without the Fleet Air Arm, you know that. We’ve all got to do our duty.’
‘I’m proud of you, Jack.’ Rita looked at him longingly. ‘There won’t be a day I won’t think about you.’
‘It’s knowing that that keeps me going,’ he said, staring at her intently. ‘And you know it.’
Rita looked away reluctantly, not wanting to break eye contact, but unable to bear the longing she saw there, which so mirrored her own. ‘I do know, Jack. Stay safe for me, won’t you? That’s all I ask.’
He reached out a warm hand and tenderly caressed her arm. ‘Hadn’t I better go now? Or your lovely mother-in-law will be on the warpath.’
Rita shook her head. ‘No, for once she’s got Mrs Delaney round and they’re sitting in a room which faces the other way. As long as you leave via the back alley, nobody will be any the wiser. You’d better not go out of the shop door or everyone will know about it – it’s just the time that people head for the Sailor’s Rest.’
‘How’s the shop doing, Reet?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Only I couldn’t help noticing when I was there that the shelves aren’t as full as they used to be. Is that because folk can’t afford to buy as much these days – or are you in trouble?’
‘Oh, Jack.’ Rita had wanted to forget about her money problems for an evening. Now even Jack seemed to have cottoned on to the parlous state of the business. ‘Don’t let that worry you. I’ll deal with it. Yes, things are going through a rough patch, but I’ll think of something.’
He gave her a straight look. ‘Reet, you can’t go on carrying this place all on your own. I’m not daft, I can see what’s going on. You’ll wear yourself out, I know what you’re like.’
‘Really, it’s all right,’ Rita insisted. She had her pride. She wouldn’t beg for help, not from this wonderful man who’d already made it clear he wanted to give her so much.
‘Reet, come on.’ He shook his head in mock exasperation. ‘Look, if you’re short of money I can lend you a bit. There aren’t that many places to spend my earnings out on the ocean wave. They pay me all right too. I might even get a promotion soon.’
‘Jack, that would be wonderful and you deserve it.’ Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘But you can’t give me your money. I won’t take it. It’s not right. I know you mean well but I couldn’t do it. Don’t ask me again, it’ll only cause hurt between us, and I can’t bear that on top of seeing you go.’ Her eyes were bright with tears. He stepped towards her and enveloped her in an embrace.
‘Well, don’t be afraid to ask me if you need to – that or anything else,’ he said softly into her wonderful thick hair. ‘There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, Reet. Anything you want, you only have to ask.’
‘I know.’ She looked up at him, his dear, familiar face, now leaner than before, and showing signs of the difficulties she knew he must be facing day in, day out. ‘It means a lot to me to hear you say it. Even though I can’t accept.’ A sudden noise from the direction of the back alley made her start. ‘What was that?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Probably nothing, a stone or something blowing in the wind.’
Rita frowned. It wasn’t even breezy, so that couldn’t be it. Then she remembered again the cat from the Sailor’s Rest, and told Jack about that incident. ‘Silly creature’s probably looking for somewhere more peaceful than the pub on a Saturday night,’ she said. ‘I’m just glad it was nobody looking at us. I’m not ashamed to be with you, but it wouldn’t do any good if people round here started talking. You know what it can be like.’
‘I do, Reet. I wouldn’t do anything to tarnish your good name,’ he assured her. ‘And nobody can see over that wall now I’ve mended it good and proper, so don’t you worry yourself about that. It’ll withstand anything that Jerry throws at it from now on.’
‘I hope it doesn’t get put to the test,’ breathed Rita, meaning it with all her heart. ‘I’ve had enough of those damn raids to last a lifetime. And my name is mud already, thanks to Charlie taking off like that, and now everyone knows he’s done a runner and is a coward on top of that. So I don’t need anything else to set off even more gossip. I’m sorry we have to be so cloak and dagger.’
‘I understand,’ said Jack. ‘It won’t always be like this, Reet. We’ll find a way. I respect you for not wanting to divorce him, even though it means we’ll have to wait longer to be together. But that’s all it is. We’ll manage it, one day. I promise you.’
‘Will we, Jack?’ Her face was full of longing. ‘That day can’t come fast enough. Sometimes I can hardly get up in the morning, wondering what dreadful things are about to happen, here or at the hospital. But it’s defeatist to talk like that, isn’t it? If I’ve got a lifetime with you to look forward to, I’ll get through all this somehow. No matter what they say about me, as long as I know you love me, I’ll be all right.’
‘And I do love you, Reet, more than I can say.’ Jack gazed at her and pulled her close to him once more in a heartfelt embrace.
Rita couldn’t resist. It was what she wanted more than anything and she melted into his arms, marvelling at the way he was so gentle and yet so strong. At last, someone to take care of her – even if he would be gone tomorrow. Tomorrow would just have to take care of itself.
Later, as she slowly undressed in her bedroom, she went over and over the events of the day, particularly those final moments. Jack was the man for her and always had been – what a pity she hadn’t realised it sooner or been in a position to do something about it. How different sharing a bed with him would be. She hardly dared let herself imagine. He’d care for her, treating her well, loving her properly, nothing like the harsh brutality of Charlie. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory. Her husband had taken no notice of what she wanted or when, satisfying his own urges no matter what, and sometimes worse than that too. Then of course he’d taken himself off elsewhere, and at first she hadn’t known whether to be disappointed and humiliated or relieved. It was a dire state of affairs whichever way you looked at it. But with Jack … she sighed. That would be another thing entirely. Dare she dream that it would happen, one day? She slid beneath the cool sheets and wished with all her heart that somehow, one day, they would be together.
Over the back wall, in the alley just beginning to be lit by moonlight, a quiet figure slunk away from where it had been standing, listening to the whole conversation and then watching the silhouette of Rita through the thin fabric of the bedroom curtains. How he hated her. How he’d make her pay for chatting up her fancy man. He could show her a few things she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. She migh
t think her war hero was going to rescue her, but he’d remind her of what a real man could do first. Then she’d be very, very sorry.
PART TWO
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Late summer 1941
‘Blast, I’ve broken another nail.’ Gloomily Laura examined her hand. She’d managed to acquire a light tan and it suited her, making her still more glamorous, if that were possible. ‘Can’t think how I’ve done it as the wretched captain makes me wear white gloves every time I drive him anywhere. White gloves! In this heat! I notice that whenever he’s not in the public eye, he takes off as many layers as possible. I’ve even seen him in shirtsleeves in the back seat, when there’s absolutely no chance of anyone noticing he’s not in full regalia. But when I asked him if I could take off my gloves and my hat, which, as you can see, flattens my poor hair in a most unattractive way, he practically bit my head off. He’s really got it in for me, and I can’t think why. I wish I was back driving the lorries.’
The three Wrens were sitting in their canteen by an open window to try to catch the slightest breeze. North London was shimmering in a heat haze – it was even baking hot in their billet up on the hill – and they were all suffering as a result. What had once been the school gardens, or what was left of them under the numerous vehicles parked along the front and sides of the building, were parched and looking sorry for themselves. But it was better than the dormitory, which, being on a higher floor, caught the full force of the sun and was stifling as a consequence.
‘At least you manage to get out and about,’ Marjorie said. ‘I’m sick of being stuck in one room. As soon as I think I’m getting the hang of signals in one language, they switch to something more difficult. Now they’re talking about springing another language on those of us daft enough to show we were good at French and German. My money’s on Dutch. I can’t begin to think how I’ll get my teeth around those sounds.’
