by June Francis
Annoyed with her sister for speaking for her and making her appear frumpy, Flora answered in a bright voice: ‘Why not? A special drink for a special occasion.’
‘That’s it,’ said Tony, smiling and showing his shining teeth. Very like Cary Grant, thought Flora, understanding even more what had attracted her sister. Hilda had always been a film fan. Hadn’t she named Viv after the female star of Gone with the Wind? Tony continued, ‘Let’s celebrate another union between the old country and the U.S. of A.’
‘Yes, let’s,’ murmured Flora drily. ‘I can honestly say that Hilda can’t wait to go. She talks of nothing else but you and living in the States. Is it as much like heaven as she makes out?’
‘I think so, but then I’m biased.’
She rested her elbows on the table and eyed him carefully. ‘I’ve always wondered what heaven’s like. Not in the clouds after all. Perhaps me and the kids should migrate there.’
‘Well,’ he began uneasily, ‘it’s taken some time for the wives of guys already home to get out there just now.’
‘Oh, take no notice of her, sweetie,’ said Hilda, forcing a smile. ‘She’s only joking. You’d never get our Flora out of Liverpool.’
‘Yes, I love Liverpool,’ she responded lightly, ‘but who knows? If I lived in America I might love it there too.’
‘Is that so?’ Mike placed a glass in front of her. ‘If I wasn’t already married with six kids – I’d make you mine and take you home.’
Flora had realised that he must be the Mike that Hilda had mentioned months ago, and she was annoyed because he could so lightly mention a wife and six kids and yet go in to Mrs Bryce next door. She could not think of any remark that she could give voice to, so she downed her drink in one go and nearly choked.
He slapped her on the back. ‘I’ve never seen one go down that quick,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll get you another.’
‘No,’ she spluttered, but he was already making his way to the bar.
Hilda, who had been exchanging light-hearted banter with Tony, turned and looked after Mike, before staring at Flora through narrowed eyes. ‘What are you up to?’ she said impatiently. ‘You’ll be getting tiddly. Watch it!’
Flora felt her hackles rise, aware that Tony was looking at her as well. She was so irritated that when Mike brought her the next drink she downed that in one go too. She knew that in doing so she was acting childishly but something had got into her and she felt mildly reckless.
Mike stared at her and grinned. Hilda looked at him, and Tony gazed at Hilda. A giggle rose inside Flora. ‘Have you set the date for the wedding?’ she asked for something to say.
Tony switched his gaze to Flora and his face lit up. ‘Hilda thought some time in June.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘She sure would like someone of her own there. Says her pa won’t come, but we’d like you there.’
Flora took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know. It’s in a Catholic church?’ She felt – floaty. Probably because she had not eaten since breakfast.
‘Yes.’ There was a slight pucker between Tony’s dark brows.
‘There’ll be incense and candles.’ Flora was only vaguely aware of Mike rising again. Her thoughts were of the time she had looked through St Michael’s doorway. The church had a sort of fascination for her. The lure of the forbidden perhaps? She cleared her throat. ‘If you look at some of the statues long enough,’ she murmured, ‘you can imagine they can see into your soul.’
‘She’s not used to drink,’ Hilda was excusing her.
Flora guessed that she was not making sense to them. ‘Two drinks I’ve had. Drowning my sorrows.’ She cleared her throat and blinked at them. Mike set another cocktail in front of her, and sat back.
‘Forget the past, Flo,’ said Hilda, her eyes sparkling angrily. ‘Look to the future.’
Flora’s hand curled round the stem of the glass and this time she drank more slowly. It tasted pretty nasty, she reckoned. ‘Ha! Some future!’ she exclaimed.
‘The future’s great! We’re looking forward to the future,’ murmured Tony, seizing Hilda’s hands and gazing deeply into her eyes.
‘No future without Tom.’ Flora’s words were slurred and she sniffed back sudden tears.
‘Don’t start crying now!’ Hilda spared her a quick embarrassed glance. ‘Pull yourself together, Flo.’
‘Leave her alone,’ said Mike, frowning at her.
‘She’s my sister! You’re to blame for this,’ whispered Hilda angrily, looking about them. ‘You have to try it on with every woman, don’t you?’
‘I’m getting out of here.’ Flora’s words cut across theirs’ and she rose. Mike looked at her and got up hurriedly.
‘I’ll come with you. Don’t these lovebirds just make you sick?’ He seized her hand and dragged her away from the table, hurrying her out of the pub. Hilda called something, but Flora did not catch the words. And besides she did not want to listen to what her sister had to say.
The cold hit her as Mike hurried her along Lime Street. It was trying to snow. Suddenly Flora realised that he still had hold of her hand and she dragged hers away and came to a halt. This man reminded her of sex and she was better not thinking of it. ‘You can go back to them now. I’m all right. I’ve met Tony and I can go home.’ Her tongue stumbled over the words.
Mike stared down at her and smiled. ‘I have got you into a state, haven’t I?’ He took her arm. ‘I’d best come with you.’
‘Oh no!’ Flora backed away from him. She knew that it wasn’t only because she didn’t trust him that he mustn’t come home with her; Hilda would not like it, she was sure of that. ‘I know just the kind of man you are, and I don’t want anything to do with you,’ she added for good measure.
‘Sure you don’t,’ he said soothingly. ‘But you need someone to take care of you.’
Her eyes blurred with tears ‘again. ‘I don’t need anybody to take care of me – I have to do it myself. I know what you’re after and you won’t get it from me!’ She wrenched her arm out of his hold and stepped off the kerb, taking several paces into the road as a tram came rattling towards her.
‘You dumbo!’ Mike seized Flora’s arm, pulling her back as the tram rattled by. ‘You’re not safe to be let out.’
She swallowed hard, staring up at him with wide frightened eyes. ‘Don’t get out often.’
‘I can believe it.’
‘It shows? Not sophisticated enough! Not like Hilda. And I suppose her next door talked about me,’ she stammered.
‘I asked.’ He smiled crookedly, and she could not think of a thing to say. Then he seized her hand as another tram went by, and ran her across the road. A yelp escaped her as her shoe caught in one of the tram lines but she managed to hook it back on again without stopping or falling. They just missed her tram on the other side.
Flora dragged her hand from Mike’s and leaned against the plinth of one of the crouching blackened lions in front of St George’s Hall. She focussed carefully on his face. ‘You can go back to them now. I’m at the right stop – but I suppose you know that. Although I just might walk so I can sober up. Either way, you don’t have to bother about me.’
‘I’d like a walk.’ He eased his shoulders under the service mackintosh.
‘I didn’t ask you to come.’ She thrust herself away from the lion. Then she paused, and turning gave it a friendly pat before walking away.
Mike fell in step beside her. She looked at him and her stride lengthened. So did his. He took her arm and she attempted to shake his hand off, but he kept a firm hold of it. She gave up the fight as the drink wrapped her round, insulating her against the chill and the falling snow as well as his presence. She was home quicker than she would have believed possible.
Mike dropped her hand as she fumbled in her bag for her key. Carefully she placed it in the lock, turning it and pushing the door wide. Inside all was quiet. Facing her escort, she said, ‘Thank you. You’ve done your duty. Goodbye.’
He put one foot on the bra
ss threshold. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
Flora drew herself up to her full height of five feet two inches. ‘Certainly not! You’ll ruin my reputation – if you haven’t done so already. The curtains will be twitching. “Flora Cooke’s come home with a Yank,” they’ll be saying.’
He shrugged. ‘Is that why Hilda hasn‘t brought Tony here? You sure aren’t very welcoming.’
Her brow wrinkled. ‘D’you expect me to be – knowing what I know about you?’
‘You’re writing me off because of two visits to Lena next door? That’s not fair.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Neither is carrying on when you’re a married man. Even my kids know when you Yanks have been. There’s fresh chewing gum from her kids. Sweet Sixteen is George’s favourite. It’s cinnamon-flavoured, and he thinks it’s great when the Yanks come calling. He doesn’t know the whole story!’
‘Hell!’ said Mike savagely. ‘What’s a guy to do when he’s offered an open port in a strange country? You’ve no idea how a man needs that kind of comfort – a double bed and a soft woman, the getting away from all the other guys. Even your Tom – maybe he might have needed that when you weren’t there. Would you have cast him away for sinning once or twice? When the rest of the time he –’
‘Stop it!’ She almost screamed the words. ‘I think you’ve said enough.’ She had paled. ‘I don’t want you here! I don’t need you here!’
He stared at her meditatively. ‘I think you do.’ And somehow he managed to push past her and walk up the lobby into the kitchen.
Flora followed him hurriedly and saw him sitting on Tom’s chair. Something inside her snapped. ‘How dare you? You’ve got a nerve, you lousy Yank!’ She ran over to him, and seizing his arms, attempted to pull him out of the chair. But Mike took hold of her hands and she fell on his knee. She struggled to rise but he twisted her round and kissed her.
At first she was so stunned that she could not move. His lips were cold from the wind and she was aware of the scent of cigarette smoke on his damp mackintosh. Then the smell triggered off a memory, reminding her intensely of Tom when they had last said goodbye. She struggled violently and getting an arm free, caught Mike a stinging blow across his chin. His head snapped back and be stared at her. She burst into tears.
‘Hell,’ he muttered, ‘I’m sorry.’ His pleasant features mirrored his regret. ‘I was only trying to make you feel better. You looked so sad that time I saw you. All screwed up. I’ve never quite forgotten you.’
‘You’d be all screwed up in my position,’ she sobbed. ‘I’d been kept awake by you and her next door, then Rosie woke up and I had to leave her crying. I don’t know how you can live with yourself – if you knew how many men she’d had! And now you seem to think that you kissing me will make me feel better. How you work that out I don’t know! I love Tom and no other man can make me feel better.’
‘But he’s dead,’ murmured Mike uncomfortably. ‘And you need someone, Flo.’
She lifted her head and stared at him from tear-drenched eyes. ‘Missing presumed dead! D’you know what that does to a woman? The uncertainty is killing. You accept, then you start hoping again – then you lose hope – then something triggers your memory and you want what you’ve lost again so badly that you start hoping again. You so want to believe that somewhere – against all the odds – your man has survived. That he’s out there – alive!’ She got up from his knee and sat on another chair, wiping her face on her sleeve.
‘What happened?’ Mike leaned forward, his hands laced between his knees.
Flora dropped her arm and looked at him. ‘A shell. They said he was in the vicinity when it exploded. Several men were missing presumed killed. My father said that there wouldn’t be much left of them.’ She sniffed.
Mike nodded, his grey eyes keen. ‘If he escaped the explosion, what d’you think could have happened to him? Or haven’t you thought of that?’
‘Yes,’ she said eagerly. ‘Maybe he was thrown by the explosion and wandered off in a daze, and was captured by the enemy. He could have been put in a prisoner-of-war camp.’
‘He’d have been freed by now.’
Her expression dulled. ‘Yes. But he might have lost his memory.’
‘He’d have identification on him. Unless the explosion blew off all his clothes. In that case he could have hardly escaped notice. Some peasant would have found him. And if the enemy were the ones to do so, the same thing goes as before. He’d have been freed and files checked.’ He shook his head regretfully. There was one other reason for Tom still being missing if he was alive, but Mike had no intention of mentioning it.
‘You think he’s dead,’ muttered Flora, staring at the fire that was almost out.
‘It’s the most rational explanation!’ There was pity in his look.
‘Yes.’ She moistened her mouth. ‘I’m not a very rational person. I just hoped.’
‘That’s natural. But there comes a point where you’ve got to face the truth.’
‘Yes,’ she reiterated, and shivered. Her heart felt like a lump of lead in her chest. She did not want to consider what he said but had to.
‘You’re cold.’ He got up. ‘Cellar in the same place as next door?’
Flora nodded, and looked at him. ‘I suppose I should thank you,’ she said with a touch of anger.
‘For what?’ He picked up the shovel.
‘Making me think sensibly. Our Hilda says I’m too much of a dreamer and I suppose she’s right.’ She squared her shoulders. The lump was still there and seemed to drag at her. They exchanged glances.
‘There’s nothing wrong with dreaming,’ he said softly, ‘but if it takes the place of reality and messes up your life, that’s when you have to call a halt. I’ll get the coal and you can make us a cup of your English tea.’ He disappeared down the cellar before she could protest.
Flora stood like a tired cabbage for several moments listening to him shovelling, before she went and filled the kettle. More to take her mind off her thoughts than anything.
Watching him place lumps of coal strategically on the fire, she knew it would be a little while before she could boil water, and wondered how she could get rid of him. His presence disturbed her because it seemed to fill the room and change its atmosphere.
Mike straightened, dusting his fingers. ‘Why hasn’t Hilda asked Tony here?’
The question took her by surprise. She glanced about her, avoiding his eyes. ‘Surely it’s obvious? This isn’t exactly the Ritz.’
‘Tony isn’t Fred Astaire looking for Ginger Rogers’ he said. ‘But it figures Hilda would be ashamed of this place. She wants to fly high, your sister.’
‘She’s not really a snob,’ replied Flora defensively. ‘And for all she goes on at me for being a dreamer, she has her own dreams. Gets her ideas from the pictures, so that she believes everywhere in America has big rooms with lace curtains – and satin bedcovers.’ Her voice tailed off as their eyes met, transferring a message. She moved quickly to pick up the toasting fork from the hook on the wall. She felt more secure holding it.
Mike’s mouth twisted lopsidedly. ‘I knew she was on the make – that’s why I told her I was married.’
Her gaze flew to his face. ‘You make that sound as if –’
‘I’m not?’ He smiled. ‘I’ve seen too many guys tie themselves in knots in the throes of going off to battle. And when some of them come back they wonder how the hell they got themselves into such a mess. There’s plenty of girls round like Hilda who see a man as a ticket to the Promised Land. I don’t like that.’
‘Tony loves her,’ she said quickly, ‘and she –’
‘– likes a good time and plenty of dough.’ He eased his tie. ‘Nothing wrong with that. But marriage – well, that’s different. I just wonder if she knows just how seriously Tony takes the girl-boy stuff. She’ll be bored with him within six months, and could hurt him a lot.’
‘I’m sure Hilda will be faithful to him once they’re ma
rried.’ Her voice sounded defensive again.
‘Sure.’ His smile was disbelieving. ‘But let’s forget them and talk about us instead.’ He rammed his hands in his pockets and scuffed the rug with the toe of his shoe. ‘What say you and me go out together while I’m here?’
‘What?’ Although he did not make a move towards her, she was instantly nervous. Her tongue flickered out to lick her lips briefly. ‘You must be joking! With what I know about you and her next door, I’d have to be daft!’
‘That’s over with ages ago, believe me.’
She did, but his presence a couple of feet away made her edgy. What if he came closer again? ‘It’s not on.’ Her voice was firm. ‘I just couldn’t.’
‘Because of Lena or because of Tom? You’re a young woman, Flora. You can’t grieve forever. I can tell you’re lonely and need taking out of yourself. Going out with me would do you good.’
An incredulous laugh escaped her. ‘You fancy your chances, don’t you?’
‘Nope! But I fancy we could have some fun together.’ He moved and she instantly brandished the toasting fork. He grinned and moved the kettle from the hob onto the fire. ‘You sure are jumpy. I’ll be the perfect gentleman, honest.’
‘So you say.’ She experienced a sense of helplessness. ‘You’d be wasting your time. I’m all dried up. I’m no fun.’
‘You could be if you let go.’
‘I can’t! I can’t forget. I hurt.’ Tears pricked her eyes and she squeezed her lids together in an attempt to force them back.
Mike stepped towards her. His breath stirred her hair and his hands rested lightly on her shoulders. She stiffened and raised an arm. He plucked the toasting fork from her fingers. ‘I don’t know about you, Flo, but I’m hungry. How about me using this thing and making us some toast?’ His lips pressed lightly against her cheek before he moved away.
Somehow that gentle caress undermined Flora’s resistance. She went and fetched the bread. He had taken off his mackintosh and cap and no longer seemed the threat he had been a short while ago. Still she kept some space between them as he made toast and she infused the tea, not quite trusting him.
