by Anna King
The manager’s body swelled with importance.
‘Leave off, Nobby. It ain’t everyday we get a hero visiting the place. Anyway, enjoy your meal, and if you need anything, just give me a call.’ Turning to the two girls, he bowed slightly saying, ‘Ladies,’ before returning to the rest of his clients. And it was with great amusement that Grace and Polly listened to the cockney man greet an obviously affluent couple in a voice that wouldn’t go amiss on the nine o’clock news.
Picking up a leather-bound menu, Nobby inclined his head to the still slightly overawed girls and said lightly, ‘Well? Are you gonna order something to eat, or just sit there reading?’
Smiling, Grace looked down at the menu, written in finely printed gold italics, her face turning to horror.
‘Nobby! You can’t afford any of these meals. Bloody hell, it’s daylight robbery.’
Thinking of all the women he had known who had tried to squeeze the last penny out of him, Nobby grinned affectionately.
‘Don’t you worry about the prices, Gracie. This is my treat, remember. I promised you two girls a night to remember, and I’m gonna keep my word.’ Assuming an expression of mock sternness, he growled, ‘Now order something, or else I’ll do it for you.’
Despite Nobby’s words, both young women felt uncomfortable, and, as if by telepathy, they both chose the cheapest item on the expensively bound menu, an unselfish action that didn’t go unnoticed by Nobby.
Halfway through her roast beef, Polly gave an appreciative sigh and asked, ‘Where do these places get all this lovely food, Nobby? We’re lucky to get a scragg-end of lamb or mutton, unless someone hears the butcher’s got something special in, then there’s a mad stampede and you’re lucky if you’re not trampled underfoot in the rush.’
Tapping his nose conspiratorially, Nobby said, ‘Some things are best left unasked, Poll. Although a lot of the food is legally bought, it’s just a question of who you know and how much you can afford to pay. Now, eat up and then we’ll have a dance.’ His eyes twinkling, he added slyly, ‘Of course you’ll have to toss for who gets the honour first. Even I can’t dance with two women at the same time – at least, not any more.’
Grace put down her fork and asked solicitously, ‘Do your injuries give you much trouble, Nobby? Only you never talk about them. You’ve never even told us just how serious they were, except that because of them you could no longer fly.’
Nobby placed the last morsel of his steak into his mouth, wiped his lips on a white napkin and frowned.
‘I didn’t bring you two out to talk about my war wounds, but seeing as you’ve asked, no, they don’t give me much trouble. It was my back that was the main problem. You can’t fly a plane for twelve hours on end with a dodgy back, can you?’ He spoke casually, as if talking about a sprained ankle received in combat. What he didn’t mention was the months of agonising pain he had endured from his injuries, nor did he mention the addiction he had developed to morphine while in the military hospital. But that was all behind him now. His back still played him up on occasions, as did his leg and arm when the weather was cold, but compared to his friend Bill Williams, who was still receiving treatment for third-degree burns, Nobby counted himself very fortunate indeed.
‘They did offer me a desk job, but I ask you,’ he spread his arms wide, the smile returning to his lips. ‘Can either of you see me sitting behind a desk from nine to five shuffling papers? Nah, I’m better off working the stalls. It’s a good living and I enjoy it. I used to work for me dad when I was a nipper, and I’d’ve been quite happy to make a living out of it, but me mum had other ideas for me. She wanted me to better meself, so as soon as I was old enough, I was sent into the RAF to train as a pilot. Course, we didn’t know there was gonna be a war then. If we had, me mum might have had second thoughts about spending all that money to educate me so as I could join. Because they don’t take any old riff-raff, you know. Oh, no, you have to have some kind of decent education to show for yourself before they’ll even consider taking you on. Mind you, I don’t expect they’re so fussy now. Can’t afford to be, can they?’
They were just finishing their dessert when a loud braying laugh brought the girl’s startled eyes up in a horrified gaze.
‘Oh, no!’ breathed Polly. ‘It can’t be.’
Cautiously turning their heads, both girls sneaked a look at the dance floor, and sure enough, there was Beryl, wrapped around a portly, middle-aged man, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the blonde’s lavish attention.
‘What’s up?’ Nobby asked curiously, his gaze following that of the girls.
Polly groaned. ‘It’s Beryl, our sister-in-law. Lord! I hope she doesn’t come over here and embarrass us.’
‘I shouldn’t worry about that, Poll,’ Grace reassured her sister. ‘For some reason, whenever Nobby’s around she avoids him like the plague.’
Listening to the conversation, Nobby’s eyes narrowed, his face thoughtful. He was sure he knew that woman. On the few occasions they had met, the brassy blonde had, as Grace had pointed out, quickly made herself scarce, and that alone was surprising. From what he had heard of Danny’s new wife, she’d have the trousers off a corpse if the coffin lid wasn’t nailed down. But where did he know her from?
The dance over. Beryl, her arms still draped around the sweating man’s neck, happened to look towards the bandstand. The glittering smile froze on her face. Not at seeing her nieces, but at the handsome man accompanying them. Steering her companion swiftly around, she hurried him back to a table at the far end of the room.
‘Whew! Thank goodness for that.’ Polly breathed a sigh of relief. ‘It’s bad enough having to put up with her at home, let alone having her spoil our night out.’
But Grace wasn’t listening. Her face solemn, she let her eyes scan the large room. If Beryl was here, then so must Vi. And if Vi was here, then it wasn’t in the capacity of a hat-check girl. Both girls had handed in their wraps on the way in, and it certainly hadn’t been Vi who had been behind the counter. Oh, who was she trying to kid, Grace thought angrily. She had never bought that story about Vi’s new job. Not with the money she brought home. Then there were the new clothes she was always buying. Dresses that would take a year’s clothing rations. Suddenly she felt sick, the wonderful evening ruined by a chance encounter. Oh, why had they had to come to this nightclub? There were dozens dotted around the West End, and Nobby had to go and choose this one.
Getting to her feet she said shakily, ‘I’m going to the ladies’ room, won’t be long.’
Bending down to pick up her bag, Polly said brightly, ‘Hang on, Grace, I’ll come with you,’ which was the last thing Grace wanted, but what could she say?
The long, plush-carpeted cloakroom nearly took their breaths away. There was a long line of toilets, facing which were gilt-edged oval mirrors and hand basins with gold-plated taps. The sheer opulence of the place nearly drove the worry of Vi from Grace’s mind. But not for long, for when she emerged from one of the cubicles there was Vi, a worried look on her lovely face, a smouldering cigarette clasped tightly between nervous fingers, leaning against one of the basins.
Before Grace could utter a word, Vi began to speak quickly.
‘It’s not what you think, Grace. All right, so I lied about the hat-check job, but what I’m doing isn’t wrong.’
Grace swept past her sister, her cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment. In spite of Vi’s wild ways and constant stream of boyfriends, Grace had never in her wildest thoughts imagined her sister would end up on the game. Beryl, yes! But not Vi. God, if her nan found out, the shock would likely kill her – that is if her nan didn’t kill Vi first.
‘Oh, hello, Vi. I thought you must be somewhere around, seeing as the ghastly Beryl’s here. Have you finished work for the night, or are you on a break?’ Polly, her freckled face wearing a beaming smile, laid her bag on the tiled surfaces of the basins and began to wash her hands, talking all the while. ‘I bet you’re surprised to see me out, a
ren’t you, Vi? I can’t hardly believe it myself.’ There was a note of pride in her voice. ‘But I’m having such a wonderful time, you never know, I might start wanting to come out every night.’ Then she gave a short self-deprecating laugh. ‘That’ll be the day, eh! The first sound of the siren and I’ll be scuttling back down the basement, trampling everyone who gets in my way.’ Then her chin came up proudly. ‘But I’m not afraid tonight, and I’m going to savour every, lovely last minute of it.’ Giving her hair a final scrutiny, and still unaware of the silent animosity that was flowing between her sisters, Polly put her brush in her bag, snapped shut the clasp and said brightly, ‘Are you two coming back outside, or do you plan to stay in here all night?’
Forcing a light note into her voice, Grace said quickly, ‘We’ll be out in a minute, Poll. I just wanted to have a word with Vi about Beryl.’ The lie slipped easily off Grace’s tongue. ‘We don’t want her ruining our evening, do we, and she might if she gets drunk.’
‘Good Lord, no!’ Polly replied, horrified at the thought. Glancing back at the still-silent Vi, Polly said seriously, ‘Honestly, Vi, I don’t know how you put up with her. She’s as common as muck, and if you keep hanging around with her people might start to think you’re the same. Anyway, I’ll see you both in a minute.’
But it was a good five minutes before Grace and Vi had the chance to talk, what with the constant stream of women walking in and out of the cloakroom. Finally they had the place to themselves, and it was Vi who spoke first, her words tumbling over each other in a desperate attempt to tell Grace the truth before they were interrupted again.
As she listened, Grace’s stony face began to relax, and when Vi finished Grace’s whole body slumped with relief.
‘You silly cow!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘I can understand you not letting on to Polly and Nan, but you could have told me at least.’
Vi shrugged, a thin smile on her lips.
‘What, you! Miss prim and proper? I thought the least you’d have done was tar and feather me.’
A watery smile broke over Grace’s face.
‘You daft mare. But seriously, Vi, isn’t it dangerous? I mean, don’t any of the men cut up rough at the end of the evening when they realise you’re not going to…’
‘Not going to go home to bed with them, you mean.’ Vi laughed. ‘It’s not like that, Grace. All the men who pay for my company know it’s only for the evening. I’m a hostess, that’s all. Of course you do get the odd one who has a few too many and gets nasty, but the bouncers soon throw them out. As for me keeping company with Beryl… Well, she isn’t a bad sort really. Plus it’s company for me on the journey here and back home. Sometimes, on special occasions, like a private party, the place can be open all night. The doors are locked, of course, to keep out uninvited visitors; if they weren’t, we’d have the police closing us down. The club only has licensing hours up until a certain time. That’s why I sometimes don’t come home until the following morning. It’s because I’ve been working all night. Speaking of which, I have a customer waiting for me, and Polly and Nobby will be wondering where we are.’
‘Wait a minute, Vi.’ Grace touched her sister’s arm lightly. ‘There’s been something on my mind for months, but I was afraid to ask. It’s just that… well, I just can’t understand why you’re so worried about any of us finding out what you were really doing for a living. As you’re always telling us, you’re a grown woman now and can do as you please. So why all the secrecy? And another thing I’ve been puzzled about,’ she hurried on before they were interrupted again by another woman wanting to use the toilets, ‘with all the money you’re earning, and the hassle of keeping your work secret, why on earth do you stay at home? Surely it would be easy for you to get a place of your own. You can certainly afford it… Not that I want you to leave home,’ Grace amended hastily. ‘It’s just that… well, like I said, it doesn’t make sense.’
Violet lowered her eyes, then busied herself lighting up a cigarette. Taking a deep lungful of smoke she answered quietly, ‘The thought has crossed my mind more than once, believe me, Gracie. I’ve even looked at flats and bedsits, but none of them felt right. They… they weren’t home, you see… Oh…!’ Vi puffed at the cigarette impatiently, her eyes avoiding Grace’s concerned gaze. ‘I know what you all think of me. Always out for a good time. Never thinks of anyone but herself, that’s our Vi, and it’s true to some extent. But believe it or not, I’m a home body at heart. That’s a laugh, isn’t it? Me, the gadabout, a home body. But it’s true. Besides, while I’m at home, I can still feel Mum and Dad; it’s as if they’re watching over me somehow. And sometimes at night, when I can’t sleep, I go into their room and sit on their bed and talk to them as if they were still there… Oh, you must think I’m mad!’
Embarrassed now at baring her soul, Vi ground out the cigarette in a glass ashtray. Then she gasped in surprise as Grace threw her arms around her, saying in a voice trembling with emotion, ‘Oh, Vi. Why haven’t you ever said anything about how you felt? Don’t you realise we all feel the same way. Our home is what Mum and Dad made it, and as long as it’s standing, they’ll always be close by.’
Her voice sounding strained, Vi gave a short laugh, ‘Yes, well, don’t go spreading it about. I wouldn’t want to lose my image, now would I?’
As they made their way back though the tightly packed tables, Grace tugged on Vi’s arm and asked hesitantly, ‘Is Beryl a hostess too?’
Vi threw back her head and laughed loudly. Then in a pseudo-grand voice said, ‘My dear, even hostesses have standards!’
Stopping only to say hello to Nobby and Polly, Vi swept past and was soon lost to view.
‘You were a long time, Grace. Have you and Vi fallen out again?’
Grace looked at Polly fondly. ‘No, we haven’t fallen out again, nosy. In fact we had a nice little chat. Cleared up a few things that were bothering me – and that’s all I’m telling you, so don’t ask any more questions.’
As she lifted her glass of champagne to her lips Grace caught Nobby’s gaze, and what she saw reflected there caused her eyes to drop. He knew! Without being told, Nobby knew what Vi did for a living. But then Nobby Clark had been around. He’d probably known all along what Vi was doing – or guessed; but he’d never even mentioned it. Then again, why should he? After all, it was no business of his how Vi earned her money, she thought rebelliously, her inbred loyalty towards her sister surfacing.
When the band started to play a popular tune, Nobby dragged Polly to her feet, and amidst much giggling protest from the delighted girl, Polly let herself be whirled around the floor under the glittering globes.
Feeling a little awkward at being left on her own, Grace watched the dancers, her feet tapping to the lively music. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a deep voice, only inches away from her ear, said, ‘Would you like to dance?’
Flustered and feeling completely out of her depth, Grace stuttered, ‘Oh, no. No, I’m sorry, but I’m with someone.’ She gestured towards the dance floor, while at the same time cursing herself for her gauche behaviour.
Eager to make amends for her stilted refusal, Grace’s eyes flickered upwards towards the uniformed man, a spark of recognition registering. Then she remembered.
Feeling all kinds of a fool, she smiled gaily, ‘Chris! Oh, it’s wonderful to see you again. Nan said you’d phoned a few times and…’ Too late, Grace realised her gaffe and flushed with embarrassment.
Noting her discomfort, Chris pulled out a spare chair, saying, ‘May I?’
‘Of course. Lord, where are my manners tonight. I think I’ve drunk too much champagne and…’
Gently placing a strong hand over Grace’s slim fingers, Chris said softly, ‘It’s all right, Grace. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I know Vi’s not interested in me, and I know what she’s doing here. But you know what, Grace?’ He smiled broadly, ‘I’m a persistent begger, and besides, what else would I have to do on such a short leave? Anyway, e
nough about me, how’s your fiancé? Stanley, wasn’t it?’
Grace felt her face burn at the memory of that night, then she remembered where Stan was and all animosity vanished.
Lowering her eyes she said simply, ‘He’s in a POW camp, and that’s about all I know.’
‘Oh, Lord, I am sorry, Grace, I had no idea. Poor begger. It must be dreadful for you waiting for news of some sort. That’s the worst part, isn’t it? Not knowing.’
Grace was about to reply when a gruff voice said tersely, ‘This table’s taken, pal, and so is the lady.’
Startled, Grace looked up into Nobby’s thunderous face, a nervous Polly hanging on to his hand.
‘Nobby! Don’t be so rude,’ Grace snapped back at the glowering face. ‘This is Lieutenant Chris Green, an old friend of mine – well, Vi’s actually. He only stopped by the table to say hello.’
At once Nobby’s countenance changed, his face taking on a sheepish expression.
‘Sorry, mate.’ He extended his hand, saying, ‘Nobby Clark’s me name, I’m a friend of the family, so to speak, and their protector for the evening. Their old nan would hang, draw and quarter me if I let anything happen to one of her girls.’
Returning Nobby’s firm handshake, Chris said laughingly, ‘I think you may be underestimating the redoubtable Aggie. I’m sure she could think up a worse fate than that.’
Nobby’s eyes widened. ‘So you’ve met Aggie, have you? I didn’t realise you knew the family that well.’
Chris raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t actually. It just happened I’d arrived to take Vi out for the evening when there was a big air raid. We all ended up sleeping down in the basement – and very comfortable it was too. I’ve never forgotten that night. Even though I was a virtual stranger, the whole family treated me like a special guest. As for Aggie…’ Chris extended his hands. ‘What can I say? Once met, never forgotten, though I’ve seen her a few times since, when I’ve gone round hoping to catch Vi in, but…’ He shrugged then grinned. ‘Anyway, I suppose I mustn’t intrude on you good people any longer, so I’ll say goodnight.’
