by Molly Green
‘I don’t care a monkey’s about the blasted dish,’ Angela’s voice rose. She banged her knife and fork down on the plate and sprang up. ‘I’m going to the motor to warn the others that their dinner’s been in the snow.’ She glared at Ronnie. ‘You’re disgusting.’
‘The snow was perfectly clean, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Ronnie said, biting back her laughter. ‘There was no sign of any footprints.’
‘And I’m sure that reheating it has probably killed most of the germs,’ Jessica called to Angela’s stocky figure as the woman disappeared through the hatch.
Ronnie couldn’t contain herself any longer. All the pent-up emotion of the day gushed out and she clung on to Jess, screaming with laughter.
‘You little scamp,’ Jessica said, joining in. ‘You said that on purpose.’
‘So did you,’ Ronnie stuttered, another wave of merriment overpowering her again. ‘And she deserved it.’
‘Well, she won’t have much comfort from reporting it to Dora.’ Jessica stood to collect the plates. ‘She will have polished hers off ages ago, the speed she eats. And wouldn’t have cared tuppence about the snow. She’ll have seen far worse in her time. And I bet Sally and May have finished as well.’ She looked at the remains of the pie on Angela’s plate. ‘I hate to waste this.’
Ronnie heard a soft pad as Lucky landed from the top of the coal bunker. She scooped her up and put her nose near the plate. Lucky pawed at it and Jessica laughed.
‘You’d better cut it up for her,’ she said, ‘but don’t let her have any pastry. It’s not good for animals to digest.’
‘I’m going to chop it all up,’ Ronnie said, still chuckling. ‘Lucky doesn’t need us to decide what she should and shouldn’t have. She’ll soon sort it out.’
She cut the pie in small pieces and set it on the floor. ‘And’ – she turned to Jessica – ‘she doesn’t care a monkey’s about it being dropped in the snow.’
That set the two of them laughing again.
When they’d washed up and put the dishes away Jessica was silent for a few moments. Ronnie stole a curious glance. Jessica caught her and smiled, seeming to have come to a decision. ‘Ronnie,’ she said, ‘do you like swing bands?’
‘Yes, from what I’ve heard on the wireless,’ Ronnie said, surprised at the question. Nobody had ever asked her taste in music, although Maman had always tried to get her interested in Suzanne’s classical concerts when she played the violin in the village hall. ‘My sister Suzy is the musician – she’s the one I told you about who sings to the troops. I forget which band she’s with but it’s one of the swing bands.’ She glanced at Jessica. ‘Why are you asking?’
‘A friend of mine’ – Jessica paused and Ronnie noticed her mouth tighten a fraction – ‘sent me two tickets for Jack Payne’s band at the Palais de Danse in Leamington Spa. He was born there so he’s doing a special visit. I think they’re playing there at least two weekends and tickets will be like gold dust. I’ve calculated we should be there about the same time as the band.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘My friend can’t go after all and I wondered if you’d like to come with me. It’d make a nice change for both of us.’
‘Is he a boyfriend?’ Ronnie’s eyes were wide with curiosity.
‘Not exactly,’ Jessica said abruptly.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I don’t want to talk about him.’ Jessica averted her eyes and Ronnie was sure that whoever this man was, he wasn’t treating her very well. But she mustn’t even hint at such a thing as she knew by now that Jess became easily upset.
‘Surely you should be going with a man to this Palais – whatever you called it.’
‘Why must I be going with a man?’ Jessica demanded.
‘Well … oh, I don’t know. That’s what seems right – to have a proper partner.’
‘There’s no law, Ronnie, that says two girls can’t go to a dance together. Friends do it all the time.’
‘But this sounds quite formal.’
‘No, it’s not.’
‘Is your friend working on the day?’ Ronnie persisted.
‘No.’
‘Then why—’
‘You ask too many questions, Ronnie. He wanted to go but I told him we’re finished, so he sent me the tickets he’d already booked and told me I was welcome to take someone else.’
‘He must have been upset.’
‘He was upset?’ Jessica flared. ‘He deserved everything that came to him.’
She was obviously very hurt, Ronnie thought. Maybe that was what upset her that first night when she had the bad dream and woke up crying. And that letter she’d received when one of the tickets had fallen out. Poor Jess. But she didn’t want to take the place of some man.
‘So how about it?’ Jessica stared at her.
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’ve never been to a dance in my life.’
‘Then it’s time you did.’
It was Ronnie’s turn to be silent. Eventually she said, ‘It sounds a bit posh – a famous band playing in the dance hall. Suzy would be really envious. But I haven’t anything suitable to wear, even if I wanted to go. I didn’t bring anything other than work things except one skirt and blouse I wear for church. It wouldn’t be right at all for the evening.’ She paused. ‘It’s just not me, Jess.’
‘Nonsense,’ Jessica said. ‘You have to start somewhere. I’ll hold you by the hand – see you don’t come to any harm.’
‘I’d only embarrass you.’
‘I’ll take the risk,’ Jessica said, looking her up and down. ‘I’m a lot taller than you, so my things wouldn’t fit, but I’m sure we could find you something when we stop at the next town.’
‘No, I can’t—’ Ronnie started, flushing with embarrassment.
Jessica gave her a pointed look. ‘Is money the problem, Ronnie?’
Ronnie nodded miserably.
‘Leave it with me,’ Jessica said mysteriously. ‘I’ll come up with something.’
The ‘something’ was in the shape of May.
‘I hear you’ve been invited to the ball, Cinders, and haven’t a thing to wear,’ she giggled, holding a carrier bag. ‘So I’m your Fairy Godmother.’ She removed a bundle of deep cherry-red material and shook it into a dress, then held it up against Ronnie.
‘Perfect,’ Jessica said. ‘It looks fabulous against your dark curls.’
‘I knew it would,’ May grinned. ‘The colour suits your dark hair better, but I love wearing it because it clashes with my red mop. I just hope it fits as it’s the only dress I’ve brought with me in case I sang a few songs in a pub and needed to look the part. It’s not really an evening dress – more a tea-dress – but I think it would do the trick.’
‘I wouldn’t feel right borrowing it,’ Ronnie said.
‘Why not? If you had something I needed, wouldn’t you lend it?’ May challenged.
‘Yes, of course I would.’
‘There you are then. You can’t hurt it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s not new.’
‘Try it on, Ronnie,’ Jessica urged, ‘but take those boots off first. I don’t think they’d be doing the dress any favours.’
There was barely enough space to pull it over her head, but with May’s help it fell into place, the pleated top snuggly fitting over Ronnie’s curving bust, skimming her waist, then the skirt swinging in soft wide pleats to just below her knees.
May stepped back. ‘You look a treat,’ she said. ‘You fill the top out better than me with my little fried eggs.’ She cupped them in her hands and patted them. ‘I have to stuff my bra with cotton wool. D’ya know, Ron, you’ve changed from a tomboy into a flirty woman in one easy movement of sliding a dress over your head,’ she giggled.
‘I agree,’ Jessica said. ‘The transformation is amazing. I love the V neck. Tantalising.’
‘I don’t want to be tantalising … or flirty,’ Ronnie protested.
‘Don’t be daft. It’s not cut low enough to show off those gorgeous breasts,’ Jessica said. ‘It just gives the beholder a hint.’ She turned to May. ‘Oh, dear – I’ve made her blush.’
‘Jess is teasing you, Ron,’ May said. ‘Don’t take any notice.’ She pursed her lips as she looked at Ronnie. ‘If only we had a proper full-length mirror.’
‘You know, I’ve got something that would make it look more evening.’ Jessica searched for a minute or two in her toilet bag. ‘Here it is,’ she said triumphantly. In the palm of her hand was a glittering brooch in the shape of a swan. ‘I’ll pin it on one of the lapels.’
‘No, don’t,’ Ronnie protested. ‘If I lost that …’
‘You won’t,’ Jessica said as she pinned it on. ‘And they’re not real diamonds. I keep those in the safe at home.’ Ronnie raised her eyebrows. ‘Just kidding,’ Jessica chuckled. ‘There – all nice and firm.’ She cast a critical eye. ‘Yes, that was exactly what was missing for an evening do. What do you think, May?’
May nodded. ‘You’ll be the belle of the ball.’
‘I won’t have to dance, will I?’ Ronnie said, her heart beating with terror.
‘Oh, no,’ Jessica said. ‘The two of us are going to stand around the edge like ruddy wallflowers.’ She snorted. ‘Of course we’re going to dance – if anyone asks us, that is.’
Ronnie’s heart squeezed at the thought. She imagined Will walking towards her, looking at her with admiration in those dark eyes, asking her to dance. No, it was too much.
She swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, May, it was a lovely idea and so kind of you, but I can’t go.’
‘Why not?’ May and Jessica chorused.
‘I haven’t got the right shoes. Unless I go in my wellies?’ She pointed to them, thick with grime and caked mud.
‘You could start a new craze,’ Jessica grinned.
‘What size are you?’ May said.
‘Four.’
‘No good looking at me,’ Jessica sighed. ‘I’m a seven.’
May tutted. ‘I’m a five. Damn.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I’ll ask Sally. And don’t worry, I shan’t mention this to Angela.’
‘She’d be the last person to lend me anything,’ Ronnie said. ‘You’re all very kind but really it’s not me, this dance band stuff. The only dancing I’ve ever done was at school and it was horrible. Boys treading on your toes, seeing their pimples close up. Ugh!’ She shuddered at the memory. ‘Why don’t you go with Jess, May?’
‘I’m more at home in a pub than on a dance floor,’ May said, ‘but you’re different, Ron.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know.’ May shrugged. ‘The way me and you’ve been brought up, I s’pose.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You’re such an innocent, Ronnie,’ Jessica cut in. ‘I’m determined to get you there by hook or by crook – even if you have to be dragged there on bare feet!’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ronnie woke with a start. That noise! A terrific banging and cracking, sounding as though the boat was breaking up beneath her. Alarmed, she shot up in bed. Something terrible must be happening. She fumbled for her watch under her pillow, but it was too dark to make out the time. The creaking and cracking noise was even louder.
Gingerly, she pulled back the blanket, stepping over Jess, and managed to put her feet down in the tiny space. If she was careful she wouldn’t wake the others while she pulled on her trousers and jumpers over the top of her pyjamas.
‘What are you doing waking everyone up at this time of the morning?’
Damn. She’d woken Angela. Jess was still breathing steadily. She seemed to be able to sleep through anything.
‘I was woken up by the noise.’
‘What noise?’ Angela demanded. ‘It’s probably the damned cat. I’m itching all over with his fleas.’
‘Lucky doesn’t have fleas. It’s more likely your bedbugs.’
‘I know bedbugs – if you remember, I’ve had them before.’ Angela’s tone was sour.
Ronnie glanced over to her, then grinned. ‘They’ve obviously taken a shine to you. But they’re all over your face like last time. And they’re not flea bites. They’re bedbugs.’
Angela opened her mouth to argue, then startled as there was another loud bang and more cracking and creaking.
‘That’s the noise.’ Ronnie didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm from her tone. ‘Aghh!’ Her feet slipped. She shot out her hand on one of the shelves to steady herself.
‘What’s going on?’ Jessica sat up and threw her dressing gown around her shoulders.
‘The boat feels like it’s going over.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Angela said.
‘Stand up and you’ll see. We’re tipping.’
Muttering under her breath Angela stood up, then lost her balance and grabbed on to Ronnie. ‘Oh, God, the boat’s going over!’
‘Don’t be daft.’ Jessica pulled on her clothes. ‘It’ll be the ice. I’ve heard the canals can completely freeze over in winter and you can actually skate on them.’ She paused. ‘Though it does seem early this year – we’re not even halfway through December. But it’s probably well below zero outside and the boat’s probably stuck in it.’
There was a hushed silence as the three of them took in Jessica’s words.
Ronnie was the first to speak. ‘I’d better put the kettle on.’ She looked at Angela who was standing nearest the stove. ‘Can you hand me the water can?’
Angela picked it up. ‘It’s practically empty,’ she said. ‘There’s barely enough for tea.’
‘Whose turn was it to refill it?’ Jessica demanded. Then she caught sight of Angela’s face. ‘Oh, my God, you’ve got bedbugs again.’
‘I haven’t,’ Angela’s tone was furious. ‘I’ve caught fleas off that damned cat.’ She jerked her head towards Lucky who was soundly asleep on her favourite cushion.
Jessica pulled out the small mirror from her handbag and held it in front of Angela. She immediately pushed Jessica’s arm away.
‘They’re definitely bedbugs,’ Jessica said, ‘so I hope you brought the special candle with you. We need to light it immediately because Ronnie and I don’t want to catch them.’ She put the mirror away. ‘Back to my question about the water can.’
‘I don’t know,’ Angela said. ‘I only came last night and found everything completely disorganised.’
‘I’d keep those sorts of remarks to yourself, Angela.’ Jessica glared at her. ‘Well, it’s no good even thinking of going outside and bringing in the spare. It’ll be frozen solid. Ronnie, get the kettle on with what little we’ve got. We need a drink to warm us up. Angela, get the stove going again. It looks like it’s about to die – and find the sulphur candle.’
‘Why have I—’
‘Because I say so!’ Jessica roared. ‘If you’re going to live with us, then you damned well better move your behind.’
‘Don’t you dare speak to me—’ Angela began, turning red with rage.
‘One of us – and one only – is in charge around here,’ Jessica interrupted. ‘I’ve had some experience of sailing. I’m the eldest. And I’m in charge. And you’d better get that through your thick head. And if you don’t like it then go and complain to Dora.’
Angela turned and went to light the stove.
Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll start on the porridge.’
‘I wonder if Persephone has overbalanced,’ Ronnie said, her feet not feeling entirely stable as she laid the table.
‘If it has, I’m sure Dora will right it single-handedly,’ Jess said grimly.
‘OPEN UP!’
The three girls startled.
‘Coming, Miss Dummitt,’ Ronnie shouted as she rushed to the hatch to slide it back. Talk of the devil. But the hatch was well and truly stuck. ‘I can’t open it!’ she shouted.
‘I’m going ter freeze ter bloody death out here,’ Dora shouted back. ‘Soak a cloth in boilin’ w
ater and keep pushin’ it inter the frame.’
‘We’re trapped if no one can open the hatch,’ Angela said, her voice rising with panic.
‘Just calm down,’ Jessica said. ‘We can’t use our precious one can of water willy-nilly. We don’t know how long this is going to last and when we’ll get an opportunity to refill them.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘Didn’t you have a hot water bottle last night.’
‘Yes. What’s that got to do—?’ She broke off. ‘Oh, I see. We can tip it into the saucepan and heat it up.’
‘No flies on you.’ Jessica cast a glance at Angela who was looking white. ‘And we’ll stand the milk bottle in it to thaw it out afterwards. Angela, you can tell Dora we should have it open in a few minutes.’
But there was no answer.
‘Well, she’s either frozen to death as she’d warned us or she’s gone back to the motor,’ Jessica said.
It was several minutes later before Ronnie managed to slide the hatch free, half expecting to see a frozen corpse outside, but all was deathly quiet. Then she spotted the water can. Good old Dora. She’d put it by the hatch knowing they’d need it, frozen or not. She lifted it and came back into the cabin.
‘No sign of her,’ she said, putting the can down near the stove Angela had fired up. ‘I think I ought to go and see if everyone’s all right.’
‘Put your coat on and for God’s sake be careful,’ Jessica warned. ‘It’ll be very slippery.’
‘Dora did it.’
‘Dora’s used to it.’
Ronnie stepped through the hatch and cautiously climbed out. Almost immediately her foot shot from under her on solid ice. Desperately trying to stop herself from plunging headfirst over the low wall round the edge of the deck she clung on to the chimney, the searing heat penetrating her woollen gloves, then screamed as her foot slipped again.
‘What is it?’ Jessica’s head poked through. ‘Oh, dear God. Hang on, Ronnie. I’m coming.’ She was by her side in an instant, taking Ronnie’s arms in a firm grip.
‘What’s happenin’?’ Dora’s head shot from Persephone’s cabin in front.
