by Molly Green
Ronnie and the others clambered onto the roofs of their narrow boats, hoping to catch a glimpse. Their trainer had obviously told the crew the same thing as two girls stood atop the butty and another pair on the motor, their cargo sheeted up against the weather.
Ronnie cupped her hands round her mouth.
‘Hello. Where are you heading?’
But the girls shook their heads and put their hands round their ears.
‘They can’t hear us,’ May said. ‘But it’s nice to know we’re all in the same boat.’ She broke off, giggling at the weak joke.
‘Somethin’ for yous all ter be aimin’ for,’ Dora smirked.
This time Ronnie steered the motor through Braunston Tunnel. Almost immediately she came upon a very sharp bend. Heart in mouth she carefully negotiated it. Enjoying a rare moment of pride, she was relieved to find the tunnel was shorter than that awful one when Margaret had panicked, and there was no further mishap.
Ronnie began to relax, finally getting to grips with the various manoeuvres, grateful that the wind wasn’t quite so raw and as unsettling as it had been. They were passing through open countryside, still snowy but glittering in the sun, and after the bustle of Braunston itself, it was wonderfully peaceful, except for the occasional birdsong which was a beautiful sound, and the crackle of the ice breaking in the trees. She briefly closed her eyes, breathing in the cold crisp air. Being in tune with nature must feel the same as Raine felt being in tune with the sky, and Suzy in tune with her music. Ronnie smiled. She was becoming quite poetical.
That evening, soon after they’d tied up, Dora came to tell them May was going to have a singsong in the motor that evening and had invited them to join in.
‘I’ve put salt on the gunwale,’ she said, ‘so it should be safe enough.’
‘Ronnie and I’ll be there,’ Jess said. ‘I don’t know about Angela.’
‘I shall stay in and answer my letters.’ Angela’s mouth was set in her usual lines of disapproval.
Just as well, Ronnie thought. That girl always put such a dampener on everything.
‘We aim to get to Stockton termorrer, and if we don’t have no more delays we should be in Leamington Spa the next day.’
‘Don’t forget our night out’s in Leamington Spa,’ Jessica muttered to Ronnie.
‘If yous’ve got anythin’ to say, Jess, then we’d all like to know,’ Dora said.
‘Oh, no, it was nothing.’
‘Hmm,’ Dora grunted. ‘Then don’t interrupt when I’m speakin’. I believe my words might be just a little more important than yours.’
Angela sniggered and Jessica rolled her eyes.
‘I quite agree, Miss Dummitt,’ Jessica said, her eyes now demurely cast down, causing Ronnie to stifle a giggle.
‘The twenty-second and twenty-third are the last times the band plays,’ Jessica said when Dora disappeared.
Ronnie handed Jess a mug of instant coffee while she was at the tiller. By an unwritten agreement, neither of them mentioned how it might have been obtained. The delicious aroma had wafted into her nostrils as she’d poured the boiling water over the powder. What a marvellous change from tea and cocoa. For a treat she’d put a whole teaspoon of sugar in her own mug.
‘One of us will have to ask her,’ Jessica said, ‘and I suppose it’ll have to be me.’ She gave a rueful smile.
‘It’s a shame the others can’t go, too, as Dora would be more likely to allow it,’ Ronnie said. ‘She couldn’t very well say no to all of us.’ She gave a start as she spotted bunches of brown feathers through the mist. ‘Watch out, Jess!’
‘Out of the way, you silly ducks.’ Jessica moved the tiller gently to the left to give them a wide berth.
‘How do we know Dora will let us stay for the evening?’ Ronnie said. ‘I can see us loading up and turning round to go straight back to London.’
‘We’ve got to let her see she’s being unreasonable if she doesn’t allow it,’ Jessica answered, her brow furrowed in concentration.
‘Do you know what I’ve just realised?’ Ronnie said, smiling at the effortless way the pair of mallards swam by, leaving barely a noticeable ripple behind them, the colourful male just a foot or two in the lead. When she was sure they were safely out of danger she said, ‘The twenty-third, the Saturday, is my birthday.’
Jessica threw her head back and laughed. ‘Ronnie, that’s perfect. I’ll tell Dora that. She can’t possibly say no to a birthday treat.’
Ronnie swallowed the last precious mouthfuls of coffee. Now that she’d decided she would go with Jess to the dance, if Dora had different ideas, she’d be quite disappointed.
In the end Ronnie went with Jessica to speak to Dora.
‘What makes yer think yer so special that the rest of us will have ter spend the night in Leamington?’ Dora demanded. ‘We’re already behind on our schedule.’
‘It’s only that I’ve been given two tickets, Miss Dummitt,’ Jessica explained, ‘and then I found out that they’re on the same day as Ronnie’s birthday.’
‘So, yer’ll finally be seventeen, then, miss,’ Dora said with a smirk. ‘The minimum age to work the boats.’
Ronnie felt her cheeks warm.
‘Yes, you can go red, my girl,’ Dora said. ‘You didn’t tell Mrs Hunter the truth on your interview, did you?’
‘Not quite,’ Ronnie stuttered.
Dora took her time to light her pipe.
‘“Not quite” allus means “no”,’ she said finally, narrowing her eyes against the smoke. ‘Mrs Hunter thought you was lyin’ but yer sister assured her you was capable. I told her I’d already guessed, by the look of yer. Barely more than a kid. But I thought yous’d cope. I’ll see if I was right when we complete the round trip.’
‘Would you give Ronnie and me permission to go and hear the band, Miss Dummitt?’ Jessica asked, an impatient edge to her tone, obviously annoyed Dora had deftly changed the subject.
‘And what will you be wearin’, miss?’ Dora said. ‘Yer won’t be able to turn up in that outfit.’ She gave a snort.
Ronnie looked at Jess who rolled her eyes.
‘We’ve sorted her out,’ Jessica said. ‘May’s lent her a dress which fits perfectly. All she needs now are the shoes.’
‘And where might they be comin’ from?’ Dora demanded.
‘Maybe when we stop at Leamingon Spa Ronnie can find a pair in the market.’
Dora grunted. ‘Yer’ll have plenty to do in Leamington, it seems, that’s nothin’ ter do with workin’ the boats.’
‘We’ll do our work the same as the others,’ Ronnie said hotly.
Dora sent Ronnie a hard look.
‘Well, I’m not sayin’ no, but I’m not sayin’ yes, neither, ’til we get there.’
Ronnie was sure Dora kept her and Jess on tenterhooks on purpose.
‘We’re not going to give her the satisfaction that we’re at all worried,’ Jessica said, when Ronnie voiced her thoughts.
The two of them were in the cabin and Ronnie was helping Jessica prepare lunch while Angela was at the tiller.
‘Keep your voice down,’ Jessica said, jerking her head towards Angela’s feet, no more than eighteen inches away.
Ronnie grinned. It was just as well Jess reminded her. Not having an engine, the butty was quiet, especially without Angela’s perpetual cutting in on the conversation. This usually amounted to a ‘better’ suggestion or doing something a different way – her way – that irritated Ronnie so much.
She turned as the cabin door opened. It was Dora holding a drawstring bag.
‘Will these do yer?’ she said as she opened the bag and tipped out a pair of shoes onto the draining board.
Ronnie gasped. They were quite beautiful. White with silver sequins and high heels. She picked one up and Jessica picked up the other while Dora stood by.
‘They’re gorgeous, Dora.’ Ronnie turned to look at her. ‘Are they really yours?’
‘I were young once, believe it or not,’
Dora said, ‘and not so bad as a looker.’ She sent them a glare. ‘’Course they’re mine. I thought they’d be the right size as I were always known for havin’ small feet.’
There was a note of pride as she imparted that piece of surprising information.
‘They look the right size but I’ve never worn high heels before,’ Ronnie said. ‘I’m not sure I could walk in them.’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Jessica said firmly. ‘Try them on.’
Ronnie removed her boots and socks and put one on. Then the other. They were obviously good quality shoes the way her feet seemed to mould into them. She stood, but if it hadn’t been for Jessica she would have toppled over.
‘Steady,’ Jessica laughed, her hand on Ronnie’s arm. ‘If you’ve never worn heels before it takes a bit of practice and I’ll see you do that a few minutes every day.’ She turned to Dora. ‘They’ll be just the job with May’s dress, Miss Dummitt. You’ve solved the problem.’
‘Mind you take care of ’em, miss,’ Dora said to Ronnie. ‘They’re a bit special, they are.’
‘I can see,’ Ronnie said, almost lost for words that Dora should have come up with something so perfect. Who would have thought it?
‘Well, I’ll be goin’. We’ve got a way to go yet before tyin’ up.’
She disappeared through the hatch before Ronnie could even thank her.
‘Well, well, well,’ Jessica said, chuckling. ‘Wonders will never cease. In my wildest dreams I’d never have thought Deadly Dora had anything like this stored away.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Ronnie said. ‘They seem to have a special meaning to her, yet she’s trusting me with them.’
‘Also, don’t forget, it’s her way of giving us permission to go,’ Jessica chuckled, ‘without having to actually say so.’
‘What I’d love to know more than anything,’ Ronnie said, ‘is why she bought something so glamorous in the first place. I wonder where she’d been planning to go. Wherever it was, I don’t think she got there because they look brand new.’
‘Our Dora keeps her personal life very close to her lace-clad bosom,’ Jessica said mockingly, ‘so I doubt we’ll ever know the answer to that.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jessica slipped May’s dress over Ronnie’s head.
‘Jess’s little compact mirror doesn’t show you how super you look, Ron,’ May said admiringly.
Ronnie had washed her hair in the hand bowl, wishing she could have a bath. It seemed ages since The Boat Inn at Stockton had let her have a bath for sixpence. The bath itself had been none too clean, the previous bather having left several grey hairs in a tangle on the bar of Lifebuoy. Now in Penelope she’d washed every inch of her body, taut and sleeker since she’d been working on the boats. Jessica had tamed her dark curls into a gleaming frame around her face, and even though Ronnie had said she absolutely didn’t want any make-up at all, her friend put a puff of Outdoor Girl powder on her nose, and a slick of lipstick on her full mouth.
‘It’s a transformation,’ May said. ‘Dora’s shoes and Jess’s swan brooch have made my dress look much more expensive than it was.’
Jessica stepped back to admire her handiwork.
‘I have to agree with May,’ she said. ‘Finally, you look like a lovely young woman.’
‘Instead of a horrible grimy youth,’ Ronnie challenged, making the others laugh.
Wearing high heels was incredible. She didn’t totter in them any more, under Jess’s reminder to practise wearing them for a few minutes every day. Even on the swaying boat she could now keep her balance. She couldn’t repress the thrill of excitement that she was going to her first dance, even though she was shaking with fear. But with Jess she somehow knew she’d be all right. But suppose someone actually asked her to dance? Her heart beat fast. She’d have to say she was sitting this one out. She wouldn’t – couldn’t admit she didn’t know the first thing about dancing.
For several long moments she wished with all her heart she hadn’t told Jess she would go with her. It was only that she’d felt so sorry when Jess had confided in her about that horrible boyfriend. She’d felt the least she could do was support her friend and keep her company.
She turned her feet this way and that, feeling like Cinderella. Who would have thought Dora, of all people, would have come up with such a pair of shoes? But then Dora had that lacy brassiere tucked in her drawer. But how surprising they had exactly the same shoe size.
May followed Ronnie’s glance.
‘I know what you’re thinking, Ron,’ she said gleefully. ‘I’d just love to know the story behind Dora’s shoes.’
‘We all would,’ Jessica said, ‘but she’ll never spill the beans.’
‘They were obviously for a very special occasion,’ Ronnie said, feeling a little mean that they were having a joke at Dora’s expense.
Jessica tucked a stray curl behind Ronnie’s ear. ‘At least she’s allowed us to tie up here so we can go, so she can’t be all bad.’
The only pity was that Ronnie had to put one of her old jumpers over the dress and top it off with her now weather-beaten raincoat. And, of course, the Wellington boots. The shoes were safely in the same drawstring bag Dora had delivered them in.
Don’t forget the bag … don’t forget the bag, Ronnie said to herself over and over, like a mantra. The image of dancing with someone in her pretty dress, complete with Wellington boots, made her want to break out into hysterical laughter. She sobered up when Jess shrugged on a beautiful camel coat with a tightly curled black collar. How she’d managed to pack something so bulky, Ronnie couldn’t imagine. But standing next to her, Ronnie suddenly felt like the poor relation.
‘Are you ready?’ Jessica asked, picking up a large and expensive-looking leather shoulder bag.
‘About as ready as I’ll ever be,’ Ronnie said ruefully.
‘Got your bag with Dora’s shoes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have a wonderful time,’ May called after them. ‘I’ll be thinking of you and I’ll want to hear all the details.’
It was a difficult walk along the towpath, although thankfully it was no longer icy. But the rough ground wasn’t easy to negotiate in the dark and Ronnie was thankful when they were able to leave it for a proper tarmac road. The cold already seeping through her raincoat to the one jumper she’d allowed herself, she was relieved they only had to wait a few minutes for the bus to take them into Leamington Spa.
This was it, Ronnie thought as she swung up on the platform behind Jess and grabbed the handrail to steady herself. No going back now.
‘Hold tight.’
‘Let’s go upstairs,’ Jessica said as she twisted her head round to Ronnie. She started up the narrow winding steps and darted to one of the few vacant seats at the very front.
A mother and her three children were crammed together on the other seat across the aisle, and as the driver pulled away the baby on the mother’s lap started to howl.
‘I wouldn’t have sat here if I’d known the kid was going to make that row,’ Jessica muttered under her breath.
‘There wasn’t much choice,’ Ronnie said. ‘It’s pretty full.’ She tried to peer through the smeared window. ‘If only we could see out. They say Leamington Spa is a beautiful town but in the blackout it’s impossible to see anything.’
‘We’ll have plenty of light inside the dance hall to pick out the best-looking partners,’ Jessica said, chuckling.
Ronnie was relieved Jess didn’t try to make any more conversation – almost impossible with the baby still sobbing. A feeling of dread lodged in the pit of her stomach. Why had she said she would go? Raine and Suzy would have been so excited to go to a dance and listen to jazz and get up on the dance floor, but to her the thought was terrifying. Those few classes at school dancing with other girls who never stopped giggling wouldn’t be any use at all this evening. She jutted her chin. Well, it was too late to change her mind now.
At that mom
ent there was a screeching of brakes and the bus jerked forward, then stopped. Jessica shot out her right arm in front of Ronnie to stop her falling against the front window, but to Ronnie’s horror she saw the mother and baby being flung forward. The baby’s head met the glass with a horrifying bang. For some seconds there was a heart-stopping silence. Then the baby screamed.
‘Everyone all right up there?’ the conductor called from below.
‘No!’ Ronnie shouted down the stairwell. ‘There’s been an accident. Can you come up?’
The conductor was there in a few swift steps.
‘My Tommy’s head’s bleedin’,’ the mother told him. ‘And I don’t know what to do.’
By this time her two other children were crying.
‘That looks a nasty graze so we’ll have to get you straight to hospital.’ He turned to the passengers. ‘I’m afraid the driver’s had a bit of a fright. Some woman ran out in front of him. She was bloody lucky – excuse my French – not to get run over. So everyone off the bus. We’ve got to get this lady and her baby to the hospital.’
Jessica grabbed Ronnie’s arm and they scrambled down the steep steps with the other passengers, some of them muttering and grumbling, as they were turned out on the pavement.
‘Are we anywhere near the Palais de Danse?’ Jessica called to the conductor.
‘Two hundred yards in front of you,’ he called back as he rang the bell. The bus moved off.
Oh, no! Ronnie suddenly ran alongside the moving bus, waving her arms and shouting. But the bus platform was empty. The conductor must have gone upstairs again to tend to the lady and her baby.
‘STOP! Please stop!’ But her cry was lost in the crowds and she could no longer see the bus in the dark. Panting, she slowed, tears of frustration falling down her cheeks.
Footsteps ran up behind her. ‘What is it, Ronnie?’
Ronnie spun round. ‘Oh, Jess, I’ve left Dora’s shoebag on the bus! I can’t go in!’
Jessica gripped her arm. ‘We have to, don’t you see? We can telephone the bus station and ask them to hold them for us in Lost Property.’
‘I feel sick. Whatever’s Dora going to say?’
