by Carol Rivers
‘Sure will.’
Ada did a little dance, then ran lightly up the stairs. At the top of them she turned and blew a kiss from the palm of her hand.
‘Don’t come out, it’s cold,’ Clint told Connie as he put on his heavy coat.
‘I wouldn’t mind a breath of air. I’ll walk you to the gate.’ She reached up to the peg to lift her coat but his fingers were there before hers.
‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, opening the front door quickly.
‘My pleasure.’ The night air closed around them as they walked down the path.
‘I get the feeling Ada hustled you a little today.’ Clint smiled as they came to the gate.
‘It was all a bit quick.’ She nodded. ‘You know Ada when she gets a bee in her bonnet. Still, it will be a good send-off, as she said.’
He stood quietly, then asked, ‘Where would you like to go?’
Connie shrugged. ‘To a pub, I suppose.’
‘You mean for what you British call a knees-up?’
She grinned. ‘Yes, that’s what we call it.’
‘Well, then, maybe Friday we can forget our troubles for a while.’
‘I didn’t know you had any.’
He laughed. ‘Just being downright homesick, I guess. Now don’t take me wrong. I’m so grateful for the friendship you Brits extend, but I still miss home.’ He laid his hand gently on her arm. ‘Though you, your family and friends make me remember what it’s like to be part of a family. And, you know, I’d like to return the favour somehow. Even if it’s only a shoulder to lean on when the going is tough. Just remember, I’m here whenever you want me.’
His breath curled into the misty air and a soft smile flickered on his full lips. Then he squeezed her hand gently and strode away to the truck.
Was that what she wanted right now – a shoulder to lean on? she asked herself as she went back inside. She shivered in the darkness. Dad had extinguished all the lights.
Connie smiled to herself as she went upstairs. She knew Ada would be waiting, all ears.
She wasn’t wrong. She found her friend lying in Lucky’s bed, pinning her hair into curlers. ‘What did he say?’ she asked eagerly, staring at Connie. ‘Did he give you a cuddle?’
Connie grinned. ‘Now that would be telling.’
‘Oh, Con, don’t keep me in suspense.’
‘No, he was the perfect gentleman.’
Ada groaned. ‘How bloody boring. Now if that was me—’
‘He would have been lucky to escape with his boots still on.’
Ada roared with laughter, then clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘It’s not his boots I’m interested in,’ she whispered, eyes dancing. ‘He could have kept them on and we’d still have had fun.’
Laughing softly, Connie began to undress. It was nice having Ada around. Just like old times again.
All week Ada planned what to wear on Friday. On Thursday morning she walked up to Cox Street and bought two winter dresses, some underwear and a pair of dark blue shoes.
‘It was the last of me money,’ she admitted to Connie that evening as they were deciding what to put on. ‘I’ve got five pounds left to give your mum and enough for the train fare on Sunday.’
‘What are you going to do for work when you get to Kent?’ Connie watched Ada turn up her nose in disgust at the bulge on the big toe of the second-hand shoes.
‘Dunno. War work of some kind I expect.’ Ada giggled. ‘Look, the person that wore these must have had bunions as big as footballs.’
‘Did you try them on when you bought them?’
‘Yeah, but I was too busy eyeing up the bloke on the stall who looked like Humphrey Bogart.’
‘You could stuff newspaper in them.’
‘I don’t like the dresses much either.’
‘Why don’t you wear that lovely blue one that Freddie Smith gave you, or is it bad memories?’
Ada frowned. ‘If we was going somewhere nice I would. I’m really mad that I left all me nice stuff at Freddie’s. Are Kev and Sylvie still coming?’
Connie nodded. ‘And Len. He’s bringing Jenny.’
‘In that case, I will wear me blue.’
Connie smiled as Ada hurried off to prepare. Not that she need worry about being upstaged. No doubt Jenny would be dressed in her usual skirt and blouse and sensible shoes.
The truck arrived at half past six on Friday evening. Ada and Len embraced, throwing insults at one another immediately. To Connie’s surprise Jenny looked beautiful in a soft green dress over which she wore a new and fashionable coat. Her brown hair was set free from restraint and bounced lightly on her shoulders.
‘I’m pleased to meet you.’ She smiled brightly at Ada.
‘Likewise,’ said Ada, fluttering her eyelashes.
Kevin and Sylvie sat in the back of the truck where the baggage was usually stowed. Connie noticed how pretty Sylvie looked too. She wore a dark coat and her hair was drawn up into a wave on one side. Every time she looked at Kevin, her big brown eyes sparkled. Kevin seemed to have grown taller and slimmer in his smart dark jacket and flannels.
Connie wore her lilac suit and wound Billy’s scarf into the V-shaped neck. Like Ada, she felt a little overdressed, though as Clint drove them through the darkened streets no one had thought to ask where in particular they were going.
‘We’re at Aldgate, aren’t we?’ Ada suddenly cried.
Clint smiled. ‘I’m taking you to a little club I know. Do you feel like listening to some great jazz?’
Everyone shouted yes! ‘What, like you played at the party last year?’ Len asked.
‘You bet.’
Ada grabbed hold of Connie’s arm. She whispered excitedly, ‘Thank goodness I wore me dress!’
The Starlight was full of American servicemen and their English girlfriends. They sat at a table with crooked red lights right next to the dance floor. No one cared about the rather uncomfortable seating as couples crowded on to the small circle of floor below the stage.
Clint introduced them to his friends and told them about the four musicians who were playing that evening. ‘The big guy is Ed Gorman, tenor sax. Next to him Jimmy Cutts on trumpet and Hal Farraday, who plays a mean clarinet.’ He nodded to the man sitting at the black piano. ‘That’s Shooter. Gets his name from the way his fingers move over the keys, like shooting stars.’
‘This is a bit different from the turns up at the Queens,’ Len said admiringly. ‘The beat really gets in your system.’
Clint smiled, flashing his white teeth. ‘Some say it’s an acquired taste, like oysters or caviar.’
‘We’ll try them next then.’ Kevin nodded.
‘You seem to know everyone in here,’ Ada said as she sat squashed up to Clint’s big body. ‘Are you gonna play your trumpet tonight?’
‘Maybe, honey.’
‘Oooh, I love the way you say that.’ They all laughed as Ada looked under her lashes. ‘Can we dance?’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Clint said ruefully, taking her hand.
‘What about you, Con?’ Len asked politely.
‘No, you two enjoy yourselves,’ Connie said. ‘I like listening to the music.’
She was content to sit and watch them as the memories flooded back of that wonderful night with Vic at Valentino’s. It had felt so romantic as he had swirled her round the floor, his strong embrace making her feel so loved and cherished. Her thoughts drifted slowly to the passionate hours they had spent in each other’s arms at Gran’s. How tender he had been with her when they made love. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn’t become pregnant. Their lovemaking had been so intense. She had willingly taken the risk and didn’t regret one precious moment. At least she had those memories now to console her. Connie closed her eyes to prevent a tear from escaping.
‘Connie, would you like to dance?’
Her eyes flew open. Clint was staring down at her. Ada collapsed on to her chair. ‘Have a dance, Con. My feet are dropping off.’
‘I
don’t know the steps.’
‘You don’t need to, just throw yourself about.’ Ada giggled.
‘Come on, Connie. Let your hair down.’ Clint beckoned her with a big smile. ‘Just one dance.’
Reluctantly she stood up. Clint took her hand and they made their way to the floor. The rhythm began to slow and the couples merged together.
‘This is called “Body and Soul”,’ he smiled, taking her gently in his arms. ‘Do you remember it?’ He drew her against him. ‘I played it at Dalton’s party, the night I danced you off your feet?’
She nodded. ‘Yes – I remember.’
His movements were easy to follow as he guided her round the floor. ‘I don’t know if this is the right time to mention it,’ he said after a while, ‘but I’m real sorry to hear about your fiancé.’
She hesitated. ‘I suppose Len told you.’
He looked into her eyes. ‘You know, a pal of mine by the name of Ricky Delahay was captured by the Japs at Guadalcanal in ’42. His unit found his dog-tag three months later, buried in the mud. Half of it was shot away, and as our planes had flattened the area, it was assumed there were no survivors. In March this year a crazy man walked out of the jungle, straight into a marine corps. He turned out to be Ricky and they cleaned him up and shipped him home all in one solid piece.’
‘Do you think there’s others like him?’
‘I sure do.’
‘I won’t give up hope.’ Connie felt tears behind her eyes again. She didn’t want to cry, but it was a relief to know that amazing things really did still happen.
‘Don’t cry, honey,’ he whispered when he saw the tears in her eyes. ‘I should have kept my big mouth shut.’
‘I’m not sad,’ she answered with a shaky smile, ‘you’ve just made me happy. At least happier than I have been in a long while.’
‘Then swell,’ he murmured and pressed her close as he tightened his hand over hers. ‘If you’re happy, then I’m happy too.’
She laid her head on his shoulder and discreetly smoothed her wet cheek. As her body relaxed, he pulled her a little closer and began to hum. His deep voice was husky in her ear as the top of her head rested against his jaw. She felt him draw in breath, so that automatically she inclined against him. Her body felt warm and tingly as slowly he turned his mouth into her hair and breathed against her scalp. ‘Connie, you were wearing this suit the day we met, remember? You were such a tiny little thing, so beautiful that my heart stopped when I looked into your face.’
Connie felt her breath catch. Even her skin felt as though it was trembling as he increased the pressure of his hand against her waist. ‘Something told me it wasn’t the last time we’d meet. Do you know what that kinda feeling is like? Deep down in your gut, very deep down – it’s real strange . . .’
His words were lost in a sudden burst of trumpet. The tempo changed and all the couples disengaged. She pulled away and he released her. ‘Do you want to sit this one out?’
She nodded and he guided her back to the table. Ada was staring at them curiously.
‘What was going on between you two?’ she whispered as Clint made his way over to the piano.
‘Nothing.’ Connie felt her face redden as she sat down. ‘We were only dancing.’
Ada lifted her eyes. ‘Don’t get all huffy.’
‘I’m not.’
‘He’s a good dancer.’ Ada nudged her arm. ‘He’s gonna play the trumpet. Look.’
Connie raised her eyes. Clint rested one muscled thigh on a tall stool and clicked his thumb and middle finger in time to the beat. His eyes were closed as he played, the beam of light above him pouring down on to his spiked silver hair. The intensity on his face was clear as he juggled the notes with such dexterity that people stood up to applaud.
‘More!’ Len shouted, jumping to his feet as Clint grinned, saluting to their table.
Clint held out his hand. ‘Can I take a request from the good folks I came with?’
Connie didn’t know any jazz and nor did the others. Then, gathering her courage, she stood up. ‘I know it’s not jazz, but can you play “Dancing In the Dark”?’
‘Guess we can try.’ Clint turned and talked to the rest of the musicians. The piano tinkled and Clint played a few notes before lowering his trumpet as the lights dimmed. Soon the music filled the room and Connie closed her eyes. She wasn’t in the Starlight any longer but on the dance floor at Valentino’s. Vic was holding her tight and she was overwhelmed with feelings that brought back every moment. When the music faded away, everyone was clapping. Connie swallowed on the lump in her throat and added her applause.
‘They’re bloody brilliant,’ Len said, nudging her arm.
‘Did you all have a good time?’ Clint asked when he rejoined them. He looked Connie directly in the eye. Everyone said they had, as reluctantly they walked out to the foyer to find their coats.
‘Would you like to do this again, sometime?’ Clint asked Connie when they were alone for a few seconds.
‘I dunno why I’m off to Kent,’ Ada cried before Connie could answer. ‘I’ll be missing out on all the fun again.’
‘You’ll have fun wherever you are,’ Clint told her, still looking at Connie as Ada linked her arms through theirs.
‘I hope you’re right, Clint. As long as I can drink the beer as well as picking bloody hops, I’ll be all right.’
They left the Starlight laughing. But when they climbed into the truck Connie sat with Len and Jenny, leaving Ada to take the seat next to Clint. She was troubled by what had happened on the dance floor and the question he had asked her afterwards.
The only man she loved was Vic. When she’d heard ‘Dancing In the Dark’ it had brought back everything he meant to her. She thought Clint had understood that she wasn’t interested in an affair. But now she wasn’t certain.
Connie caught the bus into work the next morning. Although she hadn’t drunk very much the previous night, just the one port and lemon, she slept in late, having fallen asleep at half past four in the morning. She’d tossed and turned, thinking back on all that had gone on. Her emotions were confused and she didn’t like the feeling. She knew her body craved love and affection. It would be easy to fall for a handsome man like Clint but her heart belonged to Vic and always would. Clint had even given her fresh hope by the story he had told her. But was that just a way of making her trust him?
When she arrived home the following afternoon, Ada couldn’t stop talking about the wonderful time they’d had at the Starlight.
‘I wish I was staying here now,’ Ada confessed.
‘Why don’t you, then?’
‘I can’t disappoint Mum. She was really upset when I went off with Freddie. She never told Dad anything about it. He’d probably kill me if he knew the truth.’
‘Is he still working up north?’
‘Yes, but he travels to Kent once a month to see everyone. He’s coming home for a family Christmas and I want to give him a big hug.’
‘Well, Ada, for what it’s worth I think you’re doing the right thing going to live in Kent.’
‘Why’s that then?’ Ada demanded.
‘Because your family keeps you in line. Without them you were all over the place.’
Ada frowned. ‘I can’t live at home for ever. I’m an East Ender born and bred. I love the docks and the river. If it wasn’t for my conscience pricking then I’d be staying put.’
Connie smiled. ‘What conscience?’
‘You mare!’
Connie laughed. ‘What time are you leaving tomorrow?’
Ada’s face went pink. ‘Clint offered to take me up to Victoria in the truck. You will come, won’t you?’
Connie shook her head. ‘I’ll say goodbye here if you don’t mind.’
‘But why?’ Ada wailed.
‘Stations are too much of a reminder of people coming home as well as going away.’
Ada’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh, Con, I’m sorry. I only ever think about what I want.’
‘You understand, don’t you?’
‘Course I do.’ She wrapped her arms around Connie. ‘I’m gonna miss you so much.’
‘Me too. Send me a card at Christmas, won’t you?’
‘Like one of old Burnsy’s, eh? With something dopey written inside.’
They laughed and drew apart. Ada sat down on the bed. ‘P’raps you could come up to Kent and stay for a couple of days?’
Connie nodded. ‘P’raps I could.’
‘Give my love to Billy when you see him. I miss the little sod.’
‘I will.’
‘Con?’
‘What?’
‘You’re my best mate.’
When Clint arrived in the truck the next day, Ada was waiting on the doorstep. Her make-up was all in place and her case in hand. Ebbie, Olive, Kevin and Sylvie, Nan and Lofty were all there to say goodbye.
‘I wish you were coming,’ Clint said, looking disappointed when he discovered Connie wasn’t travelling with them. ‘Did you think over what I said about the Starlight? I’d sure like to take you there again.’
Before she could answer, Ada was hugging her hard. ‘Bye, Connie.’
‘Look after yourself.’
Ada giggled. ‘Don’t I always?’
When the truck drove away, Clint looked through the window and smiled at her. He was a handsome young GI who was lonely and a long way from home. And she was well aware, in view of what had happened at the Starlight, that he might be looking for more than friendship.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The champion of El Alamein, Britain’s General Montgomery, and America’s newly appointed General Dwight Eisenhower were the talk of every Christmas dinner table in Britain at the close of 1943. Between the two warlords, it was hoped that the full-scale invasion of Western Europe would drive the Nazis from occupied Italy.
In the Marsh household, over the thinly carved chicken, the celebrations had been modest. Although Sylvie sat beside Kevin this year, Billy’s presence was missed. His letter, read out by Olive after the last helping of more-carrot-than-fruit Christmas pudding, was brief but in true Billy style. ‘It’s just been square bashing till now, but once our training’s done,’ he wrote enthusiastically, ‘we’ll be kitted up and moved out soon. I’ll be home for a weekend’s leave in the New Year. So, what about sinking a few pints, Dad and Kev? I’ll be eighteen, old enough to buy a round or two. And a nice Sunday roast after, Mum? Connie, Ada, what about going to the flicks on Saturday night?’
