The man, who had been clicking away with his camera, turned and glared at her. ‘I knew that.’ He looked towards the three women in their bathing suits and smirked. ‘Redcoat Bunty should be doing my job.’ He laughed.
Molly noticed Gladys open her mouth to say something and then think better of it as Molly grinned at her. It was strange, though, that the man would think she was Bunty.
Molly returned to her chalet. She wanted to check on Bunty. If the girl was still poorly, they would have to decide what to do. She was pleased to see Plum there and Bunty not only out of bed but dressed in her Butlins uniform.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.
‘A hundred times better. Thank you for taking me in hand. I don’t deserve such good friends. That’s if you still want to be my friend now you know I’ve been in prison,’ she added, looking pensively between Plum and Molly.
‘Don’t be an ass,’ Plum said. ‘If you said you didn’t kill Aileen, then we believe you.’
Molly checked the time on the small alarm clock by her bed. ‘I have a suggestion. Why don’t we get ready for the evening and take ourselves over to the cocktail bar? I’m not on duty this evening, but I’m expected to be in the ballroom for the old-time dancing. We would have an hour to chat about events.’
‘What a good idea! I’m on entertainment duty too in the dance hall,’ Plum said. ‘That’s why I’m out of the jodhpurs and wearing a frock.’ She gave a twirl and the two girls clapped. Plum looked so different with her hair pinned up and in a yellow dress with a tight bodice and flared skirt. ‘You’d best check me over for any traces of straw. It gets everywhere.’
Bunty grinned at Plum. There wasn’t a hair out of place, let alone the chance of finding straw. ‘I’m on duty for dinner and in the ballroom afterwards. I’d love to taste a cocktail. I’ve never tried one before. It all sounds so glamorous,’ she sighed.
‘Then now’s the time to try,’ Plum said. ‘I’ll be your teacher.’
Molly rushed to get ready and join her new friends, though she did wonder what world Plum lived in to be an expert on cocktails and horses.
11
‘You’ve converted me. I’ll never drink anything but cocktails from now on,’ Molly declared as she placed a straw in her second drink of the evening. ‘What did you say this was called?’
‘It’s a Manhattan, and if you keep drinking them at the rate you’re going, we will have to carry you back to bed.’ Plum laughed. ‘Do you like your snowball, Bunty?’
‘Mm, it’s delicious. I must confess it doesn’t feel as though I’m drinking alcohol. This is more like a bedtime drink.’
Plum hooted with laughter. ‘I don’t believe the pair of you. First you choose your drinks by their colour, and then one of you knocks them back as if it’s lemonade and the other thinks it’s the same as a cup of cocoa.’ She sipped her own drink delicately before pulling an olive from the cocktail stick and placing it in her mouth.
‘What’s yours called?’ Bunty asked. ‘It looks rather posh.’
Plum picked up the long-stemmed glass and raised it to both girls. ‘This, my loves, is a Martini. If it’s good enough for Churchill, then it’s good enough for me. Cheers!’
‘Cheers!’ they both echoed as they raised their own glasses in return.
‘Now, can you please explain to me why Gordon scaled the walls of his high-security prison and legged it?’ Plum asked in a ghastly cockney accent.
Despite the seriousness of the question, the girls laughed. ‘It wasn’t quite like that,’ Bunty said. ‘He was so miserable knowing that I was locked up for something I’d not done that he was desperate to have someone know the truth. When the opportunity arose during an air raid, he took it and escaped. He doesn’t want to implicate me in his escape. He feels so guilty for me serving time as it is.’
Molly could see that Plum was trying hard to keep her temper in check as Bunty extolled the virtues of her fiancé.
Plum sighed. ‘Are you sure that this Richard chappie killed Aileen, and Gordon hasn’t been stringing you along?’
Bunty looked blankly at both girls for a moment. ‘It was Richard. I am sure of it.’
Molly frowned. ‘Honestly?’
Bunty nodded. ‘Most definitely. Aileen whispered it to us before she passed away. She’d spoken to Gordon the last time he went to Scotland to visit Jamie and told him that Richard needed money as his investments had done badly. Richard had suggested that Aileen should divorce Gordon and marry him so that he could settle his debts.’
Molly and Plum fell silent as they absorbed this new information.
‘But how can Gordon ever clear his name?’ Molly asked.
‘By going to Scotland and looking for Aileen’s diary,’ Bunty said. ‘We thought that if we worked our way slowly north, then by the time we reached Dumfries, anyone looking for Gordon would have given up, thinking he was heading to where Jamie lives with his grandparents.’
‘Did Aileen always live with her parents?’ Molly asked. To her it seemed strange that a grown woman with a child would still live at home.
Bunty sighed. ‘I’ve not lied to you once, and yes, Aileen had continued to live in Dumfries with her parents. They had a vast estate there and she wanted Jamie to be safe. Her marriage to Gordon was for convenience only so that Jamie had . . . had a proper name. She only came to London for business and that wasn’t often. That is why Gordon was confident he would find her diary.’
‘Surely the police . . . ’ Plum started to speak.
‘No. As far as they were concerned they had the murderers, and why waste time making more investigations when they were short-staffed and the Blitz was at its height?’
‘It’s beginning to make sense to me, Bunty. In the little time I’ve known you, I haven’t for one moment thought of you as being able to kill someone.’
Bunty gave Molly a watery smile. ‘Thank you.’
Plum drained her glass and picked up her purse to buy another round. ‘So, what makes you think you’ve been followed here?’
‘I sent a postcard to my mum to let her know I was fine and she wasn’t to worry about me.’
Plum rolled her eyes in mock despair. ‘Not a view from Butlins?’
Bunty nodded. ‘I never gave it a thought until my sister wrote to say that a stranger had come asking after me. Mum got annoyed, as she said I’d served my time and people should mind their own business. She waved the postcard at him to show how I had a proper job and sent him packing. I feel awful that I’ve deceived them, as I promised I’d not see Gordon again. The shame would kill my mum. That’s why I’ve not been home.’
‘So this man knows that you’re here and there’s a possibility that Gordon is in the area as well,’ Molly said. ‘Did your sister give you any idea what he looked like?’
‘She just said he would be in his fifties and was a short man with weaselly features . . .’
‘And an ill-fitting coat?’ Molly finished for her.
Bunty was astonished. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Because he’s here and she’s seen him,’ Plum announced.
Molly nodded. She was thinking of the irritable photographer who’d called her by the name of ‘Bunty’ that very afternoon. She quickly explained to her two friends about the man and how he had called her by the wrong name.
‘It doesn’t make sense. Why would he think you were me?’ Bunty asked.
‘Because he’s a member of staff and would have seen the staff rota and known where you were working,’ Plum explained.
‘And he thought you’d be on the beach this morning for the nature trail so he appeared there to take photographs. Fortunately, he mistook me for you,’ Molly declared with a smile on her face, ‘and that’s why he called me Bunty when I took Gladys to have her photograph taken this afternoon.’
‘I’d say that was a lucky break,’ Plum said as she placed fresh drinks on the table. ‘It means you can come and go for a while without Mr Snoop following you. It wo
n’t be so easy for Molly, though, as he will be hot on her heels expecting to find Gordon.’
Molly groaned. ‘He may have found him . . .’
‘What?’ the other two girls asked.
‘Gordon came looking for you on the beach. He sat and spoke to me for a while.’
Bunty turned pale and gulped her cocktail, which made her cough. Plum thumped her on the back. ‘Cough it up, girl,’ she said.
‘I’m not sure if Mr Snoop was there when I was talking to Gordon. Fortunately, Johnny Johnson was not amused with someone from the fairground talking to a redcoat. He sent him packing.’
‘I should be annoyed at Mr Johnson for treating Gordon like that, but for once it may have done him a favour.’ Bunty sighed with relief.
Plum clapped her hands together in delight. ‘I have an idea that might just help Bunty and Gordon, but it all depends on whether Mr Snoop is a copper or a private investigator. I don’t fancy deceiving the police.’
Bunty frowned. ‘It’s awfully decent of you, Plum, but I don’t want anyone getting into trouble to protect us.’
Plum looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. Fortunately, those who had been nearby were now heading for dinner, as the tannoy was booming out announcements for the first sitting. ‘If we fooled Mr Snoop into believing Molly was you for a while,’ she whispered to Bunty, ‘it may give you a few days to get away from the area.’
Bunty’s eyes lit up for a moment before she looked glum. ‘Don’t forget the police know Gordon escaped prison. Even though he isn’t guilty, he needs to prove it. If I disappear, Mr Snoop might hear and then you could be hauled over the coals for protecting us. It was a lovely idea, though. Thank you.’
Molly had been thoughtful as Bunty spoke. ‘I do believe we should check who Mr Snoop is before we do anything else. Who do you think could do that for us?’
Plum jumped to her feet and grinned. ‘I reckon Spud is our man. He knows everything that goes on in the camp. I’ve known him for years. I’ll scoot down to the gatehouse after dinner and sound him out. Now, let’s finish our drinks and hurry to dinner or we’ll be in trouble with Mr Johnson, and we don’t want him sniffing about.’
Molly raised her glass to her two chums and sipped the last of the Manhattan through the straw. Again she found herself wondering about Plum. How could she have known Spud for so long when she’d only worked at Butlins the same length of time as she had?
Plum set off at a brisk pace down the long drive to the gatehouse, where she knew Spud would be working. She smiled to herself. It had been reassuring to know someone at the holiday camp when she’d started her job. She’d thought long and hard about returning to work, but knowing there was a friendly face at Butlins had encouraged her to accept the position of running the busy stables. She knew Spud had put in a good word for her with ‘the governor’ and would never be able to repay him for his generous help. Plum had been brought up to believe that blood was thicker than water, but that hadn’t been the case since her William had died. In fact, it if hadn’t been for Spud and his sister, Tilly, she’d have been alone without a penny these past few years. No, family meant nothing, despite being able to trace her line back to William the Conqueror.
‘I do feel dizzy,’ Molly exclaimed as she collapsed in the seat next to Plum.
‘Those cocktails take a little getting used to,’ Plum said as she lit a cigarette, waving smoke away from where Molly was fanning her hot face with her hand.
‘No, it’s all this dancing. I didn’t imagine for one minute I’d have to join in so much. I haven’t missed one since the band started playing.’
Plum passed her a drink and laughed as Molly sniffed the contents. ‘Don’t worry – it’s only orange squash. I thought you’d need one, so I picked it up when I bought mine.’
‘Aren’t you dancing?’ Molly asked.
‘Thankfully no. The campers apparently associate me with my donkeys and give me a wide berth.’
Molly laughed. ‘If you want, I can tell them you’ve had a bath since mucking out the stables.’
Plum raised her eyebrows. ‘Best keep them in ignorance. I’m enjoying just sitting here . . . and thinking.’
‘I take it you spoke to Spud?’
‘Yes. He’s a good sort is Spud. I told him everything we know. It’s all right – he won’t tell a soul,’ she added quickly, seeing the horrified look cross Molly’s face.
‘I know he won’t tell. It was just a shock realizing that someone else knows about Bunty and Gordon,’ Molly said thoughtfully. ‘I agree Spud is definitely a good sort. He took care of me the day I arrived, when I was ready to turn tail and run home.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ Plum asked, looking Molly in the eye.
‘I couldn’t . . . but that’s a story for another time,’ she added wryly. ‘We need to help Bunty right now.’
‘Spud said it would mean a bit of ducking and diving for a few days, but then things would be fine. Do you know what he meant? He also reckons our Mr Snoop gave us the answer when he called you Bunty.’
Molly laughed. ‘I’ve heard the saying before, and yes, we can duck and dive around our Mr Snoop.’ She noticed the puzzled expression on Plum’s face. ‘Imagine a boxer jumping and swerving in the ring to avoid an opponent’s punches. We need to do the same with Mr Snoop.’
‘I think we can do that, but what about the rest?’
‘Mr Snoop thinks I’m Bunty, so let him carry on believing it for a few days. It will mean Bunty is safe from his prying eyes. As long as we’re careful, we won’t be doing anything wrong. I don’t want Mr Snoop arresting us for breaking any law if he is a copper.’
‘That was something else Spud told me. Our Mr Snoop isn’t a police officer or a private eye. He’s a journalist and goes by the name of Charlie Porter. He’s from one of the seedier national newspapers, so we can have our fun with him and keep Bunty safe at the same time,’ Plum said with a glint in her eye. ‘Look out – here comes the boss man. I’ll tell you what else Spud said when we are back at our chalet.’
Molly turned to see Johnny Johnson making a beeline for her across the dance floor. She sipped her drink and tried to remain calm. She only had to look at the man and her heart skipped a beat. She placed her glass back on the table before she spilt it down her dance frock.
He held out his hand. ‘May I have the next dance?’
Molly nodded. As he led her to the middle of the floor, the band started to play. She recognized her favourite tune, ‘Moonlight Serenade’. The lights dimmed and the dance floor became illuminated by the glitterball twinkling above their heads. A saxophonist played the romantic Glenn Miller tune as a female singer stepped forward and started to sing. The words were so romantic. Johnny held her close in his arms. He was wearing the tuxedo she’d so admired the evening before. She breathed in the scent of his lightly spiced cologne. They slowly covered the floor and she was putty in his hands as he guided her past other couples who were enjoying the romantic moment. Time seemed to stand still and she wished the song would never end. Johnny’s lips were close to her hair; she could feel his breath, slow and controlled. It would be so easy to wrap her arms around his neck and guide his lips to hers. She tried to pull herself together, but the music and being in his arms swept her along on a wave of desire.
The dancers applauded as the song came to an end. Molly, still feeling the effects of being held by Johnny, turned to go back to her seat. ‘Not yet.’ He smiled. ‘There’s a special request next. I know you’ll enjoy it.’
The lights were undimmed as the compère stepped up to the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve received a request for that well-known dance “The Lambeth Walk”. Please take your places on the dance floor. If you don’t know the steps, just put one foot in front of the other and walk!’
The band started playing an intro as campers flooded the dance floor. Molly found herself grabbed and pulled along in the wave of dancers as they started to sing and step out. Loo
king around, she could see Johnny standing by the side of the room lighting a cigarette as he watched her dancing with the campers. Had he made the request for this dance? Molly wondered. As she looked at his smiling face, she thought perhaps he had and recalled that night in London when she’d seen him at the stage door with the glamorous actress who’d been splashed with muddy water.
‘You make a lovely couple,’ the lady who’d linked arms with Molly shouted, competing with the music and singing.
‘I beg your pardon,’ Molly said, trying to catch her words above the din.
‘I said that you and Johnny make a lovely couple.’
‘Oh no, it’s nothing like that. He’s just my boss,’ Molly assured her.
The woman nudged her and winked. ‘It didn’t look like it to me. It’s not every girl that can hook a film star. You hang on to him, lovey.’
Molly had no choice but to continue dancing and singing along with the campers, but she was horrified to think that anyone would assume that she was chasing after Johnny just because he’d appeared in films. No, she’d still find him infuriating if he were a butcher, a baker or a candlestick-maker.
‘The Lambeth Walk’ finished and led straight into Butlins own ‘Goodnight, Campers’, based on the well-known song ‘Goodnight, Sweetheart’.
‘Come on, miss – give us your arm. We can’t have you standing there on your own for the last dance of the evening. Budge up there, Sal, and let the lovely redcoat join us,’ a rather merry camper exclaimed as they linked arms and sang along together. Molly had found the song amusing when she first heard it, with its humorous references to holiday-camp life, but tonight it seemed a poignant end to the evening.
Heading back to where Plum was sitting, she was surprised to see her nodding in a pointed way. ‘Bunty, there you are. It’s time we got ourselves off to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.’
Molly was puzzled but thought it better not to reply, so just finished her drink, which was still on the table, and collected her handbag. As the pair left the ballroom, they passed Mr Snoop with his camera. Had he been listening to Plum?
The Butlins Girls Page 14
