by Dilly Court
Avril leaned on the bar, her brightly coloured kimono sleeves trailing on the counter. ‘Well, darling, we have to be practical. People are very narrow-minded, especially round here. I’ve kept your grandmother’s wedding ring for sentimental reasons, but now I see a perfectly good use for it. Mildred insisted that you’re to be widowed at the earliest opportunity, so we might as well make a drama of it.’ She sipped her drink and her green eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘It will be fun. Besides which, some of the residents in this village are so self-righteous they would have a field day if they knew the truth.’
Ginnie swallowed a mouthful of her drink, trying hard not to pull a face. It might be nicer sweetened with lemonade, she thought, hoping that Avril would not be offended if she did not drain the glass. Shirley, however, did not seem to have a problem. ‘May I have a refill? That was most refreshing. I feel much better now.’
‘Why not? You’ve had a terrible time recently. Just one though, I don’t want to lead you into bad ways. I’ll go upstairs and root through my jewellery box to see if I can find the ring. We’ll be open soon and I think we ought to start as we mean to go on.’
‘I’ll look after Shirley, Auntie.’ Ginnie seized her sister’s empty glass before she had a chance to get a refill.
‘Thank you, darling. You were always such a helpful little girl. I’m sure I can find lots of things to keep you occupied while you’re here with me.’ Avril hurried through to the kitchen and moments later her light footsteps pattered overhead.
Ginnie passed what was left of her own drink to Shirley. ‘I don’t like this stuff, but you’d better go easy or you’ll be squiffy.’
‘I want to be drunk,’ Shirley said, pouting. ‘I want to blot out the whole horrible mess, but I meant what I said earlier, Ginnie. Tomorrow I’m leaving on the first train for London, even if I have to find lodgings in East Ham or Hackney. I’m not staying here any longer than I can help. I hate the bloody countryside . . .’ She broke off as the door opened and a young man wearing the uniform of an American army officer looked into the bar.
‘Is it opening time?’ he asked anxiously. ‘I’m afraid we might be a bit early.’
Ginnie glanced at her watch. ‘I’m not sure. What time does it normally open?’
‘About now,’ he said, grinning. ‘May we come in, ladies?’
Ginnie glanced through the door to the kitchen but there was no sign of her aunt, and anyway the lieutenant and his two companions were already in the bar. One of them took a seat at a table next to Shirley. ‘Good evening, ma’am. Lieutenant Tony Petrillo, US Army Medical Corps, at your service.’
Shirley blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Shirley . . .’ she hesitated for a heartbeat. ‘Shirley Mallory. My husband is in the Navy.’
Chapter Three
Ginnie stared at her sister in horror. Pretending to be married to an imaginary person was one thing, but to involve someone like Laurence Mallory was quite another. She could see all kind of complications rearing their ugly heads, but Shirley was looking happy and obviously relishing the attention of the good-looking young American officer.
The lieutenant who had asked if the pub was open turned to Ginnie with a friendly smile. ‘Are you staying here, ma’am?’
She met his candid gaze and her heart warmed towards him. Ever since she could remember she had lived in the shadow of her older sister, and at the shop she was still Sid’s little girl who used to help out after school and in the holidays. Laurence had thought she was a schoolgirl until she had put him right, but this good-looking American officer, whose smart uniform made him look more like a film star than a soldier, had seen her as an adult. She returned his smile, holding out her hand. ‘Yes, I’m Ginnie Travis. My sister and I are staying here with our aunt.’
‘Nick Miller.’ He shook her hand. ‘Tony has just introduced himself, and the big guy on my right is Danny Flynn.’ He slapped his comrade on the shoulder. ‘We’re both from LA, and Tony is from New York. We’re stationed at the US military hospital in Lightwood House.’
‘Nice to meet you, ladies.’ Danny bowed to each of them in turn.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Shirley said gra-ciously. ‘Are you doctors as well as soldiers? How thrilling.’
Ginnie felt the blood rush to her cheeks with embarrassment and she willed her sister to stop making a complete fool of herself, but the Americans did not seem to mind. In fact Tony appeared to be hanging on her every word. ‘Yeah, we’re medical men. We put the poor guys back together again when they come from the battlefield.’
‘You’re surgeons,’ Shirley said in an awed voice. ‘That’s so interesting.’
‘I guess that’s not a local accent, Mrs Mallory.’
‘Actually we’re from London.’
‘Is that so, ma’am? I went there once. It’s a great city.’
‘It’s Shirley,’ she said, leaning towards him. ‘And, yes, London is a wonderful place, what’s left of it after the German bombs have done their worst.’
Nick reached for the brass hand bell that stood on the bar and rang it. ‘Hey, Avril. You’ve got thirsty customers waiting.’ He gave Ginnie a wry smile. ‘I’m getting used to drinking warm beer. May I buy you ladies a drink, or would that be inappropriate as we’ve only just met?’
Shirley held out her empty glass. ‘I’d love one, thank you.’
‘We’ve only just arrived and we really ought to unpack,’ Ginnie said hastily. ‘Maybe another time?’
‘Are you planning to stay long?’
She nodded, casting a covert glance at Shirley. ‘For quite a while.’
Nick grinned. ‘Then we’ll have plenty of time to get to know you better.’
‘Yeah,’ Tony said eagerly. ‘We’re stationed in one of your stately homes just outside the village. I could get used to living like a lord.’
Ginnie was wondering whether to drag Shirley off the window seat before she became too tipsy to move when Avril hurried in from the kitchen. She leaned on the bar. ‘Good evening, gentlemen. I see you’ve met my lovely nieces.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Danny gave her a mock salute. ‘And how are you today, Mrs Parkin?’
‘My, we are formal.’ Avril bobbed a curtsey. ‘You don’t have to worry about the girls. We might be in old England, but the days of high-button boots and chaperones have long since gone. Women are doing men’s work and doing it well.’
‘Somehow I don’t see you as Rosie the riveter, Avril.’ Nick winked at Ginnie.
‘You’d be surprised what I can do when I put my mind to it.’ Avril took a mug from the shelf beneath the bar. ‘The usual, gentlemen?’ She worked the beer engine with the expertise of long practice. ‘I’ve been known to throw a drunken chap out of the door for behaving badly, Nick. I may look as fragile as a fairy but I’m a tough cookie when necessary. You see, I’ve even picked up the lingo, dealing with you boys from across the pond.’
Danny took some coins from his pocket and laid them on the counter. ‘This one’s on me. Will you have one yourself, Avril?’
She gave him a brilliant smile. ‘Thank you, darling, but not now. It wouldn’t do to get squiffy this early in the evening.’ She pulled two more pints and counted out Danny’s change. ‘I’ve laid supper in the kitchen for you girls,’ she said, staring pointedly at Shirley and Tony who were in deep conversation. ‘You must be tired after your long journey, Shirley, love. There’s the item of jewellery we were talking about on the kitchen table. You might want to take a look at it.’ She lifted the hatch in the bar counter. ‘You’ll have plenty of time to chat with the boys; they’re some of my best customers.’
‘That makes us sound like drunks,’ Nick said, laughing. ‘We just like to soak up the atmosphere in this quaint old inn, and enjoy the scenery on such a warm and pleasant evening.’
Danny took a swig of his beer. ‘And the beer is good too. I’m developing quite a taste for your English bitter.’
‘I like Pimm’s,’ Shirley said, holding
out her glass. ‘This is the last of Auntie Avril’s private stash.’
‘And you’ve had quite enough for a woman in your condition.’ Ginnie moved swiftly to her side and helped Shirley to her feet.
Tony leapt up and put his hand beneath Shirley’s arm. ‘Gee, I had no idea. I beg your pardon, ma’am. You really shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.’
Shirley wrenched her arm free with a spirited toss of her head. ‘I’m perfectly fine, thank you, lieutenant. My sister fusses like an old maid.’ She glared at Ginnie as she marched past her. ‘Goodnight, gentlemen.’
‘That didn’t go down too well,’ Avril murmured as Ginnie walked past her. ‘Keep an eye on your sister, dear. She seems a bit edgy.’
‘She’ll be okay, Auntie.’ Ginnie hurried into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
‘Well, thank you very much.’ Shirley pulled up a bentwood chair and sat down, resting her elbows on the pine table. ‘You’ve just ruined any chance I might have had with Tony. Couldn’t you see that he was interested in me?’
‘You were the one who told them you were married – and to Laurence of all people. Couldn’t you have invented a name?’
‘Why? Do you want him for yourself?’
‘Is Laurence the baby’s father?’ Ginnie demanded angrily. ‘Did you cheat on poor Charlie?’
‘I wasn’t married to Charlie, or even engaged. I had a tiny fling with Laurence, that’s all.’ Shirley held her hand to her mouth. ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’
Ginnie went to the sink and filled a glass with water. She put it down in front of her sister. ‘Sip that and stop acting like an idiot. You got yourself into this mess. What were you playing at out there?’
Shirley sipped the water, avoiding Ginnie’s anxious gaze. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes, you do. You were flirting with that chap as if you were still available.’
‘I am available, as you put it. It’s just that there’s a bit of a complication.’
‘And it will get bigger every day. There’s another human being growing inside you and it’ll be your responsibility. It’s not a puppy or a kitten that you can give away.’
‘Stop going on about it. D’you think I don’t know all that? I’m scared, Ginnie. I don’t want to do this on my own.’
‘You’re not on your own. You’ve got us, your family. Whatever Mum and Dad said they’ll change their minds when you take the baby home. They’ll love it because it’s their grandchild, and we’ll all help you.’ Ginnie stared at her sister’s bent head and experienced a rush of sympathy. Despite the normal sibling rivalries she loved Shirley and she wanted to see her happy. She patted her clumsily on the shoulder. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something.’ She went to the stove and lifted the lid of a saucepan that was simmering on the hob. ‘This smells delicious.’ There were two bowls warming in the rack and she ladled the savoury-smelling soup into them. She placed one in front of Shirley. ‘Eat up. I’ve no idea what’s in it, but Auntie Avril is a magician in the kitchen.’
Shirley stared at it, shaking her head. ‘My life is such a mess. I don’t know how I’m going to cope, Ginnie. I really don’t.’
Ginnie took a seat opposite her sister. She tasted a spoonful of the soup. ‘This is really good,’ she said appreciatively. ‘Do try and eat something, Shirley.’ She caught sight of a gold ring placed on a table napkin and slid it towards her. ‘Look. It’s Granny’s ring. Try it on and see if it fits.’
Reluctantly, Shirley picked up the ring and slipped it onto her finger. ‘Perfect,’ she muttered. ‘It might have been made for me.’ She met Ginnie’s encouraging look with a hint of a smile. ‘When can we decently kill off poor Laurence? I look rather fetching in black.’
‘I thought you’d fallen for him. You said it was the real thing.’
‘Making a joke of things is the only way I’m going to get through this, Ginnie. I’m going to need your help. I really am.’
Their bedroom, which they had shared in the school holidays, overlooked the terrace and the gentle curve of the river with its tree-lined banks and the chain ferry, which had been used daily during peacetime, ferrying the locals across the water to their jobs in the coalmine on the opposite side. The mine, so Avril said, was still in use but operated now by the men who were too old to be conscripted into the forces and the Bevan boys who were billeted in the village. Occasional calls were made from the far bank and Avril would trip daintily down to the winch and haul the ferry across with surprising strength for a lightweight. Ginnie tried it once but found that even hefting rolls of linoleum and large pieces of furniture had not prepared her for such a feat.
Sharing a room with her sister was not Ginnie’s idea of heaven, but there were only three bedrooms in the pub and Avril kept one for paying guests, who before the war would usually have been fishermen, but now were mainly young couples on honeymoon or older people wanting to get away from the destruction in the towns and cities.
Gradually, as the summer progressed, Ginnie became more and more involved in the running of the pub, waiting on tables in the dining room and working in the kitchen. She helped out in the bar occasionally, although at first that was Shirley’s domain and she was in her element, sitting on a stool behind the bar, chatting to customers. As an expectant mother she was now exempted from war work, but by the beginning of August she was becoming increasingly tired and lethargic. On the days when the temperature climbed she lay on her bed refusing to come downstairs, and Ginnie began to take over Shirley’s duties as well as her own.
Early evenings were the best time of day for Ginnie. She grew to enjoy the quiet moments before they were invaded by thirsty customers. The summer weather was, as always, temperamental. One day might be warm and sunny and the next one cool and cloudy, but even in the rain she loved to watch the river whatever its mood, whether calm and serene or angry and turbulent. There was the distinctive scent of the wild flowers that rampaged along its banks, mingling with the perfume from the roses that climbed the walls of the pub, reaching as far as her bedroom window. She could have leaned out and plucked one to toss to an ardent lover who serenaded her, had there been such a person. She could only dream.
Even so, there was always a hint of excitement in the air before opening time, as if they were on stage, waiting to perform for an audience that had yet to arrive. But as the weeks went by it was Nick whose appearance made her heart beat that little bit faster, and it was his company that raised her spirits so that the world seemed a brighter and happier place. He made her laugh and he made her feel that she was the only woman in the room. It took her a long time to admit it to herself but she realised that she was falling slowly, deeply and irrevocably in love. It was exciting and it was frightening. She knew he liked her and sometimes she caught him looking at her with a warm glow in his dark eyes, but her inexperience in the art of romance left her confused and uncertain whether her feelings were reciprocated.
Every evening was mystical and sweet and a definite challenge. She was always down early to open up and she waited, hoping that Nick would be the first to walk through the door, but it was usually the less than fragrant Percy who called in every day on his way home from work. Straight from the pig pens of the home farm on Lord Thurston’s estate, he took his seat in the inglenook and sipped his pint of mild while reading the newspaper. His lips moved as he studied the accounts of the Allies’ continued drive into Normandy, from which he would suddenly read a paragraph in a booming voice that startled anyone who happened to be in the bar at the time, including Ginnie.
‘They’re starting the trial of them who tried to blow up Adolf. They should give the perishers a medal,’ he announced one evening as Nick entered the bar.
‘You don’t say?’ Nick smiled at Ginnie who had already pulled a pint of bitter and placed it on the counter.
Percy glared at him. ‘I do say so, mate. It’s here in black and white.’
‘Will you have the other half?’ Nic
k suggested, grinning. ‘You see, Ginnie, I’ve learned the lingo too.’
‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Percy held out his glass, which was almost empty. ‘A top-up then, please, Ginnie.’
Nick took it from him, handing it to Ginnie with a wry twist of his lips. ‘It’s more like a pint than a half, but that’s okay by me.’
She filled it from the appropriate pump. ‘You’re very generous.’
He grinned. ‘And one for yourself?’
‘I’m not old enough to drink in a pub.’
‘Sorry, I forgot that you’re just a kid.’
She gave him a playful swipe with a tea towel. ‘It’s the law, silly.’
‘And you shouldn’t really be serving in a bar.’
‘I don’t think the local constable will arrest me.’ She topped up Percy’s glass and placed it on the bar. ‘Would you give that to your new friend, please?’
Nick handed it to Percy. ‘Here you are, buddy. Cheers.’
Percy took it with a grunt that could be interpreted as anything from thank you to something less polite.
Nick sipped his drink, eyeing Ginnie thoughtfully. ‘You know, you’re wasted here. We always need staff at the hospital, especially now. There was a huge influx of guys who were wounded during the D-day landings and many of them are still with us.’
‘But I’m not a nurse. I’ve only ever worked in my father’s furniture shop.’
‘The men are mostly convalescent so it’s not too gory. We’ve got army nurses, of course, but we need more help. Would you be interested? You’d be well paid.’
The offer, coming out of the blue, was both startling and exciting. She had never imagined herself as an angel of mercy, and even if the job turned out to be that of a glorified ward maid she would have jumped at the chance of working closely with Nick. She looked into his eyes and the warmth in his gaze took her breath away. ‘I’d love to, but I’d have to ask my aunt. I’m not sure if she can spare me.’
