The Lido Girls

by Allie Burns

  ‘Long ago, Natty. Perhaps I know you better than you know yourself.’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  ‘You have your safety net now and I think it’s for the best.’

  ‘And what will you do now? Whatever we might say about your methods, you certainly rattled your mother, didn’t you?’

  Delphi was moving back towards the bed.

  ‘That’s the laugh of it all, isn’t it.’ She spoke with such bitterness that she almost spat out the words. ‘Mother grants me my freedom, only you ruined my chances of teaching with the Women’s League, so even if I were fit to live alone, I still couldn’t teach.’ Her words pierced Jack and Sid’s conversation. They stopped talking to listen. ‘So it means of course, that after all is said and done, unless I want to take up the offer of the asylum, I will have to return to Mother’s bosom after all.’

  ‘It might be the safest thing.’ Jack, hands in his pockets, moved closer to his sister while still keeping a safe distance. ‘She’ll be different now. You’ve seen to that.’

  Natalie wasn’t sure what had become of her friend. She was so entangled in her own deceit, grudges and resentment.

  ‘Good, so that’s all arranged,’ Delphi said in a shrill voice, ‘so if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like some rest.’ She flopped face down on to the bed and didn’t look up. Natalie waited a moment, not able to comprehend that Delphi had gone to such extremes to escape only to have surrendered to her old life. That she would just let Natalie leave with Jack and that would be that, but it seemed that was how it was to be. Jack held out his arm and with no sign of Delphi imploring her to stay, she threaded her hand around his forearm and let Sid see them out.

  *

  She and Jack came out of the shady side street of Sid’s lodgings, still arm in arm, following the road until it intersected with the sun-drenched prom. They waited for a charabanc to pass and then stepped into the road. As the motor coach pulled up opposite the pier, a dozen or so holidaymakers spilled on to the pavement, mopping their brows, not sure where to look first: the pier, the sea, the prom or the fancy hotel behind her. Then still gawping this way and that, they lifted their suitcases and dispersed in all directions. She imagined the empty charabanc was off to collect another load of weekend trippers.

  This weather was due to hold – warmer than the French Riviera the newspapers said.

  This and everything else they had ahead of them would be enjoyed without Delphi.

  A newspaper salesman had set up his stall at the edge of the pavement. Behind its diamond cage the handwritten headline.

  ‘Heatwave and record crowds due for bank holiday weekend’

  ‘Read all about it,’ the man brayed as she stopped to examine the front page. Beneath the headline was a photograph of Arthur in front of his hotel, wearing his fedora and gabardine mac. She was jostled and nudged aside as a young man bought a newspaper.

  ‘Come on,’ Jack said, pulling her away.

  Why wasn’t he distraught to see Delphi so resigned to her fate, so bereft of the fight they all loved her for? He’d practically encouraged her to go back to her parents and yet, not so long ago, he had been determined she should be away from her mother. Why had they both given up so easily?

  She stopped halfway across the road right in front of a policeman directing traffic at the junction. Her legs simply cementing her to the ground. Everything hitting her at once and crushing her. She didn’t even have the strength to make it across the road.

  ‘Keep moving,’ the policeman said as the car he had beckoned forwards tooted its horn. Jack came back and took her by the arm, pulled her forwards. Eventually her legs yielded, found strength from somewhere and propelled her onwards. But she was heavy, and tears were running down her face. She couldn’t look up, couldn’t look ahead. What now? Where will we all go from here?

  ‘Jack,’ she said, ‘you go on to the flat. I’ll follow on. The air was stale in Sid’s room; I need to be outside.’

  She walked the length of the prom alone, east and west, until her feet grew tired. She went back to her lodgings but she couldn’t settle and didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation with Mrs Curtis, so in the afternoon she set out again. When she realised that she couldn’t dislodge the anxiety with walking, she passed back along the road of Sid’s lodgings, hesitated on the plinth of the doorstep across the street, and watched the attic window that jutted out of the roof. The front door opened a couple of times, she stood tall, waiting to see who would emerge from the shadows, but it was a shared entrance and it was never Delphi, or Sid, who came out.

  The sky grew dark and she was drawing looks from passers by, especially the ones who had been by earlier on. Then came a click behind her and it made her start. An older man with white hair and a heavy dark brow peaked out of the door. ‘Move along will you, whatever your business, push off.’

  So she did. Back on the prom, beyond the Lido, was the ocean liner on land: the Marine Court. Jack’s home. But she didn’t go up straight away. Instead she waited on a bench. She was empty, not in the sense of being hungry, but today’s events had wiped her out. She didn’t really want to go up to his flat, but she knew if she stayed on the bench, or went back to her lodgings, that she would hear in her head that painful falsetto tone of Delphi’s announcing that her fate was all arranged, see her limp figure face down on the bed, the fight knocked out of her. Or hear the acid in her voice when she’d said, ‘The best thing for you and I is a clean break.’

  She knocked on his eighth-floor door, hastily taming the hair that had worked its way free on her walk.

  ‘You look a sight for sore eyes.’ She’d been out so long that he’d changed into his pyjamas and wore the disorientated look of someone clawing their way out of a disturbed sleep. His face was flecked with the beginnings of a hay-coloured beard and he had dark half-moon pockets beneath his eyes.

  ‘I don’t want to be on my own,’ she said.

  He moved out of her way so she could come through to the small living area of his bachelor flat. No hesitation this time. What had seemed so important before didn’t seem to matter now.

  The bedroom door was ajar. The blanket and sheets crumpled again on top of the bed’s surface were the only imprint he’d left on the place.

  She hadn’t yet sat down on the white corner settee when he came towards her with his arms outstretched. He wrapped her up, his fingers instantly creeping below her waistline. She backed away. She blamed the both of them for not doing more to help Delphi. As her friend had said, ‘What are you afraid of?’

  ‘There was one room you missed out on your last tour.’

  Predictably, he led her straight into the bedroom. The wallpaper was a cool green with pink geometric patterns. The window was wide open; the room was cold. It reminded her of Miss Lott’s office.

  Jack turned her by her shoulders to face him. This time she didn’t flinch or push him away or even look for a distraction, a Catkin, to stop this from happening. He unbuttoned her blouse while she watched him twist each button free until the voile separated and opened like a curtain to reveal her soft-pink brassiere.

  She fought the urge to pull her blouse closed. There was no going back now. Her safety net – that’s how Delphi had referred to Jack. Her touch of conventionality, her passport to what she’d been brought up to believe was her birth right. A husband, a home, a family. Delphi had been wrong about one thing: it wasn’t what she wanted; it was more a case of what she needed. It seemed she’d spent her life running away from loneliness. She’d lost Delphi and she couldn’t risk losing Jack, not now. She couldn’t push him away a second time. Of that she was certain.

  He smiled, not at her, but to himself, his eyelids blinking dazedly. The same self-satisfied look as Catkin when he brought home a sparrow. He’d undressed her now down to her girdle. He slipped the thick, soft-pink straps from her shoulders so they flopped around her upper arms. She stood impassive while he slotted his arms beneath hers, his hands travelling across the surf
ace of the rayon, and then he brought the fabric together to release the hooks from the eyes.

  He’s practised at this, she thought, helping to unclip her stockings from the garters and then rolling them down her thighs. It struck her then. She’d run to him for fear of being alone and yet, here she stood naked and uncertain that she was really doing the right thing. Was he the safe option after all?

  He pushed his lips against hers. The familiar taste of whisky and tobacco. His stubble flecks grazing her skin. She slipped the braces from his shoulders. Wrapped her hands around his neck. His fingers flickered across her cool, bare skin.

  *

  She must have dozed off. She lay on her side, her naked behind pressed up against the cool wall. His unshaven face had scoured her skin and it felt tender and raw now.

  Jack slept in the dark, unencumbered by the narrow single bed, flat on his back, his legs splayed beneath the blanket and his hands cradled beneath his head. His mouth open, his breathing laboured. So restful and lost in sleep compared to Delphi’s fitful resistance.

  All the thoughts she’d pushed to one side before last night now made room for themselves in her mind. She should be worried that she might have fallen pregnant. But why? Apart from there being no wedding band on her finger, she had no professional life left to ruin. Once they were married everyone would be waiting for the announcement anyway. Why not just save them the anticipation?

  Leaning forwards – her chest’s bare flesh squashing against his upper arm – she clambered over him, pulled the window to, drew the curtains. She saw his eyes glisten as they opened, just as she slid back under the sheet.

  From the moment she’d lain beneath him last night, she’d not been able to hide from the questions. Had she done the right thing? She tried to measure out the love she felt for him, to see if it weighed enough.

  The truth was that going to bed with him had meant she wasn’t alone, and marriage would mean that too. But she knew already that being sensible didn’t always lead to contentment. She’d been seduced. Like catching a glimpse of a rare jewel, something she’d always considered beyond her reach, she’d snatched at it. But I care for him; surely that is enough. She no longer had a career to fall back on, no Delphi to run to, even. It would have to be enough.

  He was in a deep sleep again, his breathing heavier. As she rested her head on the tufts of his chest she could hear his heart drumming away and she marvelled at the contrast between his still exterior and the forces hard at work within.

  Daylight was beginning to move into the darkness, the sun casting its first light and pushing through the gap she’d left in the curtains. Resting her head on the cage of his chest, she waited for Sunday to arrive.

  In the morning she dressed and then watched him asleep, his upturned palms level with his ears. And then as she left, she clicked the front door together softly so as not to wake him.

  *

  The town was still filling up and the temperature continued to rise. According to Mrs Curtis they’d be sleeping in the bathtubs and under tables by Sunday night, all in the grip of a late summer heatwave.

  On the way back to her lodgings, close to the pier, a car pulled up beside her. The driver honked the horn.

  ‘Look!’ A tall, languid figure with a floppy hat and a cigarette holder stepped out and purred, ‘Natalie darrling, no Jack?’ Toots kissed the air around Natalie’s cheeks like she was Greta Garbo and then introduced Cybil, the redhead on her arm.

  ‘No. I’m by myself.’ Natalie’s cheeks burned.

  ‘Not for much longer I hear.’ She winked. ‘Congratulations on the engagement!’ Natalie breathed out with relief.

  ‘Are you ready for the Miss St Darlstone competition on Monday?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. Of course. Rumour has it two modelling agency scouts will be there.’

  ‘They’d be fools not to sign her up, don’t you think?’ Cybil asked.

  As Natalie agreed, Toots lifted Natalie’s left hand by the fingers and appraised the engagement ring.

  ‘Isn’t it the same ring?’ Cybil said as Toots dropped her hand. Toots’s eyes had widened and she was shaking her head in jerking movements at her friend. Natalie looked from one to the other as another car pulled up beside and a noisy set of young women stepped on to the prom.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Natalie asked, tentatively, wishing she hadn’t been so quick to snap at Cybil’s bait.

  ‘Nothing, don’t listen to her.’ Toots waved a gloved hand. ‘The ring suits you.’

  There was something not being said here and while she didn’t want to hear it, she knew she needed to.

  ‘Have you seen this ring before?’ she asked.

  Toots’s head lolled about before she capitulated.

  ‘Very well. You’re obviously in the dark. Jack and I were engaged earlier in the summer.’

  Natalie swallowed the lump in her throat before she could speak, but she doubted Toots. Could this be her idea of revenge for stealing Jack away from her so publicly?

  ‘But…but Jack told me it wasn’t serious between you.’

  ‘Well it wasn’t once you turned up. Don’t worry!’ She raised her eyebrows at Cybil. ‘Everyone said it had moved too quickly. It all happened in a matter of weeks. He’s impetuous: proposes first and thinks later. Likes to think he’s rescuing us girls. He wanted to save me from my sadness at my father’s passing and do you know what? The engagement did cheer me up! While it lasted at any rate.’

  ‘Oh,’ Natalie said. So she had been his girl when Natalie had kissed Jack on the beach. She’d known the truth all along really; she’d just hoped Jack hadn’t been lying to her. Just like she’d known all along that she’d been swept along with Jack’s impulsiveness, the excitement of being asked, but he’d just taken pity on Natalie’s plight as he had Toots’s. ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘Jack’s an insatiable romantic. He gets caught up in his own romance novel.’ Behind her gloved hand she said, ‘Casts himself as the hero. I mean, what do you think really happened with his girl in America? Did he dive in headfirst there too?’ Toots’s worldliness, delivered in her husky, kindly voice made Natalie shrink into her sandals. But Toots was young, still in her twenties. There were enough men her age to go around; she could afford to be choosy and wait for the right man. Natalie had to take risks.

  Toots reached out and touched her arm with her gloved hand. Natalie didn’t move. The satin on her skin reminded her she wasn’t completely numb.

  ‘Well it was splendid to see you.’ Toots pulled her hand away.

  Natalie couldn’t even manage to force a smile. She looked what she was: a complete and desperate fool, which, she supposed, she had been all along. Had she really thought that Jack had fallen in love with her above all others?

  ‘Oh, my dear, we’ve upset you.’ Toots was apologetic even if Cybil appeared to relish the effect the revelation had had on her.

  ‘It’s all right. I’m glad I know the truth as a matter of fact.’

  ‘For what it’s worth…’ Toots reached out her arm and rested it on her shoulder ‘…I think what with you being older and experienced it could be just what he needs. And it’s wonderful for you too, at your age. I have an older cousin like you. I understand.’

  The redhead was busy devouring the anguished, lost look that no doubt accompanied the burn Natalie felt on her face.

  ‘Well,’ Toots added when Natalie hadn’t said anything, ‘the pier beckons. Tell him I sent my fondest wishes, won’t you. See you at the gala, darling.’

  And with that she patted Natalie on the back, leaving a trail of perfume behind her.

  *

  ‘A gentleman caller waiting for you,’ Mrs Curtis called from the kitchen as she came through the front door.

  ‘Delphi had a terrible fit last night after you’d all left,’ Sid told her as soon as she walked into the living room. ‘I’ve never seen her so bad. She’s resting now, but she’s… The thing is, Natalie, I’m not a well man myself and I kn
ow she says she’s to go back with her parents, but I don’t want to be the one to deliver her to them.’

  ‘If she’ll come, bring her here when she’s up. I’ll take care of her.’

  ‘What she said, about us not being in love. It’s…it’s not… I do love her.’ Tears ran down his face. ‘She’s as wild as the wind half the time. But…’ His voice shrank to a whisper as he fought back the tears. ‘I could just never be the man she needs.’ He dug his fingertips hard into his shut eyelids, trying to suppress the tears that seeped out.

  ‘What you have done for her is very brave,’ Natalie said, wishing the same could be said of herself, ‘braver than any of us have been. You should be very proud of that.’

  ‘She was angry yesterday,’ he said, ‘as upset with herself for all the lies as she was with her family, and you. But it’s just bravado, Natalie. She’s scared stiff really. You do see that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she said, but she hadn’t really looked it in the face until then, not really. Delphi had used fierceness to obfuscate her frailty and Natalie had allowed herself to gaze at the rainbow while the rain had poured down unnoticed. ‘Bring her here and I will try and put things right.’

  *

  Delphi was sullen and shipwrecked when Sid delivered her and her luggage over to Sun Ray House later that morning. She climbed wordlessly into Natalie’s bed, and sleep had instantly pushed its way back in. Natalie sat for much of it on the white tufted bedspread, Delphi’s hand sandwiched between her own, stroking her plum-soft skin, waiting, waiting for her beautiful and headstrong friend to come back.

  Mrs Curtis knocked about downstairs with her carpet sweeper. She’d been gracious about Delphi staying and brought up meals on trays and produced biscuits from the front pocket of her pinafore. But Delphi had left it all untouched until now.

  When Natalie decided she’d had enough rest she set a steaming china cup and saucer down on the dresser, next to her carriage clock.

  Shins brushing against the coarse blanket, she paused to look at Delphi. Her blond hair dull and lank, the top few buttons of her satin blouse were all that protruded above the blanket. The bedspread described her tucked-up legs and her slender hands shielded her head as if from an incoming missile. She was twitchy, uneasy, her eyeballs skittering under their lids.