Daughters of Liverpool

by Annie Groves

  Outraged, Bella protested, ‘But that’s my house!’

  ‘No, it isn’t, dear,’ Vi pointed out in a far more steely tone of voice than she normally adopted with her daughter. ‘It was Daddy who bought it, remember?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘To be honest, Bella, Daddy and I have both been concerned about you living on your own, now that you’re widowed. You’ve still got your lovely bedroom here at home, after all.’

  ‘You mean the one that Daphne’s sleeping in?’ Bella pointed out sourly.

  Vi tittered. ‘Well, of course she’s sleeping in it for now, darling, but once she and Charles are married she won’t be, will she? No, Daphne dear, you can assure your parents that they needn’t worry about you and Charles not having a house. Mr Firth and I were saying only the other night how perfectly things are working out.’

  Her mother might consider that things were working out perfectly but she certainly didn’t, Bella fumed, as she made her way home from her parents’. And as for her giving up her lovely house to Charlie and Daphne – well, her parents could think again if they thought she was going to do that!

  Laura had been hinting for several days that she wasn’t keen on her billet and saying how much nicer Bella’s house was. She had even been buttering up Bettina and her mother, asking them to show her some Polish recipes, and making comments about how much easier it was to make decent meals when there was an extra ration book to add to the rations. Not that Bella was taken in for one minute by her behaviour. The only reason Laura was making such a fuss of Bettina and her mother was because she thought it would make her more appealing to Jan.

  ‘They are ever such a close family, aren’t they?’ she had commented to Bella after she had first met them. ‘I reckon that Jan would do anything to make his mother happy.’

  Her own mother might think they could get rid of the refugees, but it would be a different matter trying to get rid of the supervisor of the local crèche, Bella decided grimly, and since she certainly wasn’t prepared to give up her home and her independence to return to live with her parents, she would just have to bite on the bullet and invite Laura to move in with her. But there was one thing that Bella did intend to make clear, and that was that when they were at home it was what she said that went, since it was her house.

  When she passed the site where the baby girl had been found alive in the rubble of her bombed home, Bella slowed down slightly. There’d been a big mass burial of some of those who had been killed in the March bombings. Bella had attended the service with her mother, and she had also – very reluctantly – done a stint down at the community kitchen on St Paul’s Road, where those who had been blitzed out could go and get a hot meal.

  Right now, though, she had far more important things on her mind than her grievances against her parents. The dance tonight would be her big opportunity to dazzle Jan and ensure that he was totally smitten with her and no one else. Bella had everything planned, right down to the new red nail polish with which she intended to paint her finger-and toenails. And since her mother had not been able to persuade her father to increase her allowance, Bella had not been able to buy herself a new dress, which was why she had been obliged to do something she had never imagined she would ever lower herself to do, and that was to buy a second-hand dress.

  A smirk of female triumph curved Bella’s mouth. She had come across the dress by accident when she had been given the job of sorting through boxes of clothes donated to the WVS for the homeless. Full-skirted, with a strapless fitted bodice, it was made of an iridescent silk that looked black but that shone peacock blue and dark green when the light was on it. There was a matching bolero jacket and a crumpled pink rose attached to the waist.

  Bella had recognised what treasure-trove it was the instant she had seen it, quickly bundling it up and wrapping it inside her own coat before anyone else could spot it. There was no reason why she shouldn’t have it – it wasn’t suitable for someone who was homeless, after all – and she had put two shillings into the WVS charity box for it.

  Later on in the week, when she had heard about the poor little dressmaker who had come to the hall in tears to ask if anyone had seen the couture silk gown that had been brought to her to alter, Bella said nothing. It was just a black dress, that was all. It fitted her perfectly too.

  Laura had been going on all week about the yellow and white piqué cotton frock trimmed with white and yellow rickrack braid that she was planning to wear, as though it was something really special. Well, not when she put on her black silk, it wouldn’t be, Bella thought happily.

  The house was empty when Bella got back. There was a note in the kitchen from Bettina explaining that Jan had arrived with a male friend, and that the four of them had gone out to visit some other friends who were billeted locally.

  The sight of two RAF kitbags leaning against the wall in her spare bedroom had Bella’s heart doing an unexpected back flip of excitement. Two kitbags, that meant that Jan could partner her, and his friend could partner either Bettina or Laura; Bella didn’t care which of them bagged him, just so long as she had Jan.

  The Polanskis and Jan’s friend arrived whilst Bella was still upstairs in her bedroom getting ready.

  Normally Bella would have hogged the bathroom and run off all the hot water, getting ready for the dance, but grudgingly on this occasion she decided that she perhaps ought to be generous, given the fact that Laura was fussing all over Bettina and her mother, so she had left a note on the kitchen table saying that she had left them plenty of hot water, and that since there would be a buffet at the Tennis Club she knew they wouldn’t be expecting any tea.

  Bella timed her entrance perfectly. Having waited to make sure that Laura had arrived, she checked that she herself did indeed look as wonderful as she had thought the last time she had inspected her appearance in her bedroom mirror, all of two minutes earlier, her lips a perfect soft red with just a hint of gleam, thanks to an expert dab of Vaseline on top of her lipstick, her eyelashes long and dark, her hair falling elegantly to her shoulders in waves worthy of any film star, and of course her dress. She must wear black more often, Bella had decided as soon as she had recognised how glamorously the fabric contrasted with the pale pearly sheen of her skin.

  Carrying her evening bag and her bolero she headed for the stairs, deliberately dropping her bag just before she reached the last stair, exclaiming loudly as she did so.

  Naturally Jan, ever the gentleman, came out of the sitting room to see what was happening, the others crowding in the doorway behind him.

  ‘Silly me, I dropped my evening bag,’ Bella pouted, ‘and I daren’t bend down to pick it up because I can’t fasten the hook and eye at the top of my zip. Would you be a darling and fasten it for me, please, Jan?’

  Bella couldn’t quite analyse the look in Jan’s eyes as he came towards her. It could just be awed appreciation, of course. How could it be anything else? And how clever of her too to have positioned herself on exactly the right stair for his gaze to be on a level with the creamy exposure of the soft flesh that swelled discreetly before disappearing beneath the bodice of her dress.

  Jan’s brief, ‘You’ll have to turn round,’ had Bella batting her eyelashes and giving a small practised giggle before she started to turn, just catching as she did so the movement of yellow and white floral cotton as Laura appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Laura’s question was followed by a cool and very disconcerted, ‘Oh’, as somehow Bella lost her balance and had to cling to Jan’s shoulders for support, her soft breathy, ‘Oh, goodness, I am being silly tonight,’ answered by Jan’s calm, ‘Not at all,’ as he waited for her to regain her balance and then turn round so that he could fasten the hook and eye for her.

  ‘You should have called me up to do that for you,’ Laura told Bella in a voice that Bella was delighted to recognise was decidedly hostile.

  ‘I was so busy worrying about Charlie’s fiancée enjoying the evening and
not feeling left out that I never gave it a thought until I was on my way downstairs,’ Bella lied happily, tucking her arm through Jan’s as she reached the bottom of the stairs, and telling him, ‘I think I’d better hang on to you until we get to the Tennis Club, Jan. These silly heels are a bit higher than I’m used to.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should change them,’ Laura suggested tartly.

  ‘I can’t. They’re my only pair of black dancing shoes.’ Bella’s response was sweet and triumphant.

  Bettina and Maria had come out of the sitting room now, accompanied by a tall, thin, dark-haired man of a similar age to Jan, but nowhere near as good-looking.

  ‘Bella, please allow me to introduce Jonas to you.’ To Bella’s irritation Jan had to disengage himself from her hold to introduce his friend, who promptly shook her hand.

  ‘I hope you enjoyed your visit to your friends this afternoon.’ Bella’s smile swept Jan’s family and his friend. ‘You’ll be meeting my brother later at the Tennis Club and I must tell you that he and his girlfriend are newly engaged so tonight will be a very special evening for them.’

  Somehow or other, whilst Bella had been talking, Jan had offered his arm to his mother, and Jonas had offered his to Bettina, leaving Bella and Laura to walk together as they left the house and made their way to the Tennis Club.

  ‘I am praying that we don’t have an air raid tonight,’ Bella announced.

  ‘Well, you’d certainly have trouble running for the shelter in those shoes,’ Laura remarked unkindly.

  ‘Jan would help me, wouldn’t you, Jan?’ Bella cooed. ‘It’s so thrilling to be going to the dance with two heroes of the Battle of Britain. I shall feel quite jealous if you dance with anyone else, Jan.’

  There! That should make her own claim more than clear to Laura, Bella decided as she tucked her hand through the other girl’s arm with false friendliness.

  ‘Steady, Bella. That’s your fourth tonight. I didn’t even know you drank gin,’ Charlie complained to his sister, as she emptied her glass.

  ‘That’s because I don’t,’ Bella told him truculently. It was the truth, after all. She didn’t drink – normally. But tonight things had gone so horribly wrong that having another drink seemed like a good idea.

  It had all started just after they had arrived and she had discovered that the committee had decided to put Jan and Jonas, along with Bettina and Maria, on the top table, which had meant that she and Laura, along with Charlie and Daphne, had been relegated to a horrid little table that barely accommodated four in a dark corner where no one could see them.

  Someone had seen her, though – one of Alan’s mother’s cronies, who had taken one look at her and then made a comment about shameless young women who flaunted themselves in a very vulgar way, which not just Bella herself, but everyone who was within hearing range knew had been directed at Bella.

  Matters hadn’t been helped when Laura had said disapprovingly, ‘Well, I must say that I did think myself that your dress is a bit much, Bella, especially given our position and the crèche and everything.’ Laura had then promptly taken herself off to the top table where she had somehow or other managed to get a seat, which had left Bella on her own with the newly engaged couple.

  ‘You can’t possibly really be in love with her, Charlie,’ Bella had challenged her brother when Daphne had excused herself to visit the cloakroom. ‘She’s so dull.’

  ‘Of course I’m in love with her,’ Charlie had grinned, adding mockingly, ‘How could I not be? You’ve seen the way the fact that I’m marrying her has got Dad opening his wallet, haven’t you?’

  When Daphne returned to their table Bella gave the ring on her future sister-in-law’s left hand an extremely sour look. It was twice the size of all three of the stones in her own engagement ring put together.

  Bella had to wait until suppertime to push her way to Jan’s side and remind him in a little girl voice that he hadn’t danced with her yet.

  ‘You haven’t looked as though you’ve been lacking dance partners,’ he pointed out.

  Bella pouted. ‘Oh, well, they’re just ordinary boys, not like you, Jan. You’re a hero, and very special.’

  Bella had always known how to flirt but she hadn’t until now recognised just how dangerously close to the edge she could take that flirting now that she had a wedding ring on her finger.

  One of her partners had already called her a dashing widow, so why shouldn’t she be exactly that? Fired up by four gins and her determination to best Laura, Bella was enjoying the heady elixir of power that came from knowing that she no longer had to obey the ‘rules’ that came with being an unmarried girl.

  ‘Mm, I’d love another gin,’ she told him.

  ‘I think you ought to eat something first,’ Jan told her firmly.

  ‘If you want me to eat, then you’ll have to be very nice to me.’

  As she leaned closer to him, Bella swayed and almost lost her balance – and not deliberately this time – causing Jan to frown as he caught the scented sweetness of her breath and wondered just how much she had had to drink. He put down the plate he had been holding and took hold of Bella’s arm.

  ‘Come on,’ he told her. ‘I think you need some fresh air.’

  ‘No, what I need is you,’ Bella told him giddily as he guided her across the floor and then outside.

  No light shone from the windows of the Tennis Club, thanks to the blackout, but there were stars in the sky and enough light from the moon for Jan to glance up and say grimly, ‘Looks like it’s a bomber’s moon tonight. Let’s hope the Luftwaffe don’t take advantage of it.’

  ‘The war! Is that all everyone can talk about?’ Bella complained.

  ‘It is pretty much to the forefront of most people’s minds, Bella,’ Jan pointed out drily.

  ‘Well, it isn’t to the forefront of mine, and it shouldn’t get to the forefront of yours when you’re here in the moonlight with me,’ Bella rebuked him softly.

  Jan had gone very still but Bella hadn’t noticed. This was it, her moment, her chance to ensure that when they went back inside Laura knew that Jan was Bella’s. She moved closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder and her hand on his arm.

  ‘It’s all right to kiss me, Jan,’ she whispered. ‘I know you want to, you know.’

  ‘Bella …’

  ‘And I want you to as well.’ Bella was astonished. Where on earth had those words come from? Certainly not from her scheming brain. It would never ever have allowed her to say anything so betraying. So where, then? Bella’s thoughts had become very cloudy and confused, but not so much that she didn’t know what she wanted.

  ‘Jan,’ she whispered, and now there was a pleading softness in her voice as well as an invitation.

  Jan didn’t move.

  Bella’s gin-soaked senses were oblivious to the message contained in Jan’s still silence. Instead they were urging her to do what she wanted to do. Bella raised herself up on her tiptoes and placed her lips on Jan’s, kissing him softly and then with increasing passion.

  His arms lifted, his mouth moving against her own …

  ‘No!’

  Bella blinked drunkenly in disbelief. Jan had just rejected her and pushed her away. But that wasn’t possible.

  ‘I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should have said something earlier.’ His voice was clipped and angry. ‘I’m engaged to be married.’

  ‘You can’t be.’

  Ignoring her denial Jan continued quietly, ‘Anna is the daughter of some old friends of my parents. We knew one another as children. We didn’t know until just before Christmas that they’d managed to escape as well. We’re getting married next month. My mother is delighted. It’s something she’d hoped for before – before the war.’

  Bella had gone from being drunk to being stone-cold sober in the space of less than five minutes. It felt like being all wrapped up in a delicious blanket and then having not just that blanket but also a layer of skin ripped off you whilst you stood in
a cold so bad that it physically hurt. She had no idea where such a feeling had come from or why, she only knew that she was in pain.

  She turned away from Jan into the darkness.

  ‘Bella.’

  How was it possible for the sound made by someone saying her name to cause her so much physical pain?

  ‘We must get back; people will wonder where we are.’

  How odd that she should be able to speak so normally through such pain, a bit like when someone had a limb amputated but thought it was still there because they could feel it, perhaps.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, when she stepped into the warmth and light of the Tennis Club foyer, Bella recognised that she had no recollection of having made the physical movements that had enabled her to walk back to the Club. But she must have done so, of course, since she was here.

  For the rest of the evening Bella danced and laughed as though her life depended on it, but not with Jan, and nor did she have anything more to drink.

  Katie and Luke’s rooms at the pub where they were staying were next door to one another, and somehow, when the time came to say good night, neither of them wanted to leave the other, and besides, as Katie reassured herself, they weren’t doing anything they shouldn’t, at least not strictly speaking, even if what they were doing was rather a lot more than she suspected they should. She didn’t feel guilty at all, though. Not lying here in Luke’s arms, where she felt so safe and loved, and where for tonight at least there was no war and nothing to come between them as they touched and kissed and loved.

  Heavy petting, she had heard other girls calling it, and it was certainly hard to make themselves stop when all those lovely kisses and touches were urging them on, but both of them knew that they must. There was a war on, after all, and neither of them was the type to feel comfortable with the idea of a rushed marriage and all the speculation that would accompany it.