The Shopkeeper's Daughter

by Dilly Court

  ‘She managed for years without you, honey. I guess business is pretty quiet these days.’

  ‘It’s different though, with Shirley being pregnant and not able to do much.’

  ‘She’s fit enough to go to the dance on Saturday night with Tony.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  He laid his hand on hers as it rested on the bar. ‘I like your sister a lot, Ginnie, but I think she’s taking you for a ride.’

  Ginnie frowned. She had suspected as much herself, but she was not going to admit it. ‘You don’t know all the circumstances.’

  ‘I guess not. I didn’t mean to offend you.’

  ‘You haven’t. It’s all right.’ She looked up as the door opened and the vicar strolled into the bar. ‘Good evening, vicar.’ She was quick to notice that his dog collar was slightly grubby and the cuffs of his tweed jacket were frayed, but his crooked smile was infectious and there was nothing remotely sanctimonious in his demeanour.

  Everyone in the village loved the Reverend Lionel Smithers. Ginnie had heard of many instances when he had visited a parishioner’s tiny cottage with a basket of treats for an invalid, or some much needed groceries for a mother struggling to raise young children while her husband was away, serving his country. A confirmed bachelor, Lionel Smithers obviously had a soft spot for the flamboyant, unconventional landlady of the Ferryboat Inn.

  Nick leapt smartly from the bar stool. ‘Good evening, Father. What will you have to drink?’

  ‘How kind of you, my boy. I’d love a Scotch and soda. My throat is quite dry from taking the boys in choir practice. It’s years since we had a choirmaster and my ageing vocal chords leave much to be desired.’

  Ginnie measured a tot and put the glass on the counter, passing him the soda siphon. ‘Do you want to see my aunt, vicar?’

  ‘It’s always a pleasure to see Avril,’ he said, splashing a generous amount of soda water into his drink. ‘We’ve been friends for many years.’ He raised his glass to Nick. ‘Here’s to the excellent work you and your staff do at the hospital. How are the men under your care?’

  ‘Doing as well as can be expected, sir.’

  ‘And you and your medical team need time to relax. I hope we’ll see you at the dance in the church hall on Saturday, lieutenant.’

  Nick angled his head, giving Ginnie a quizzical smile. ‘Do you think that Avril could spare you for the evening?’

  Momentarily lost for words, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her knees threatened to give way beneath her. She was almost nineteen and this was the first time she had been asked out on a proper date. She was not counting the odd trip to the pictures with her best friend’s brother. Spotty Tommy, the girls at school had called him, although despite his purulent acne Tommy Jarvis was a nice boy and he had bought her a bag of aniseed balls to suck during the showing of Gone With the Wind at the Gaumont cinema. She was about to answer when Avril breezed into the bar.

  ‘Lionel, how lovely to see you.’ She leaned across the counter and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re looking tired, my dear. Why don’t you come into my parlour and put your feet up while you’re saving my soul?’ She gave him a saucy wink as she lifted the hatch and beckoned to him.

  ‘You’re outrageous as usual, Avril, but charming as ever.’ He swallowed his drink in one mouthful. ‘Actually, that would be rather pleasant, but I think your niece has something to ask you first.’ He nodded to Ginnie. ‘Haven’t you?’

  ‘As a matter of fact it was my idea,’ Nick said before Ginnie had a chance to respond. ‘I’d like your permission to take Ginnie to the dance on Saturday night. Will you give her the evening off, Avril?’

  ‘But of course.’ She threw her arms around Ginnie, enveloping her in a sweet and powdery vanilla haze of Shalimar perfume. ‘You haven’t had a night off since you came here, darling. Of course you must go, and you’re lucky to have such a handsome partner.’ She stepped back behind the bar, pausing in the kitchen doorway. ‘Come through, Lionel. We’ll leave the young people to look after things. I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful and capable niece to help me run my pub.’

  Nick waited until they were out of earshot. ‘You will come with me on Saturday, won’t you, Ginnie?’

  ‘Avril says it’s all right, so – yes, I’d love to.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Nick said, smiling. ‘For a moment I thought you might have other plans.’

  A warm glow suffused her whole body, starting at her toes and making her feel quite light-headed. She could hardly believe that he had chosen her to accompany him to the dance when he had the pick of the young nurses at the military hospital as well as the village girls. ‘I’ll look forward to it, Nick.’

  ‘Me too, honey.’ He downed the rest of his pint. ‘I’ve got to go now, but think about what I said about working at the hospital. I won’t be in tomorrow as I’m on duty, but I’ll call for you at seven on Saturday evening.’ He leaned over the bar and kissed her on the cheek. ‘See you soon.’

  ‘Goodnight, Nick,’ Ginnie murmured as he stepped outside, leaving the soft touch of his lips imprinted on her skin. She heard the roar of the jeep’s engine and the crunch of its tyres on the gravel as he drove away.

  ‘Don’t trust them Yanks,’ Percy said, holding out his glass. ‘Got plenty of money to throw around but they’re all talk. I’ll have a half in there, please.’

  She had just finished serving him when more customers began to trickle in, and by nine o’clock the tiny bar was crowded and there were people sitting out on the terrace enjoying the benefits of double summertime. Avril burst into the bar with such a theatrical flourish that Ginnie half expected her to be greeted with a round of applause, but Avril knew how to work her audience and was immediately besieged by friends eager to chat and exchange gossip.

  When the door finally closed and the glasses had been collected and stacked on the draining board, Avril poured herself a stiff drink. ‘That was busy for a weekday, but I suppose the nice weather brought them out. Not that I’m complaining.’

  Washing glasses in lukewarm water with just a swish of household soap, Ginnie decided that this was the right time to mention Nick’s offer of a job. She cleared her throat. ‘Auntie Avril, how would you feel if I told you I’d been offered paid work at the American hospital?’

  Avril gulped down a mouthful of brandy and soda. ‘I’d be delighted for you, darling. But only if that’s what you want to do. I can afford to support you and Shirley while you’re staying with me. It’s not as if I’m poor, and you’ve been a great help.’

  ‘But you don’t really need me here all day, do you?’

  ‘I suppose not, although I do love having the company of my two favourite nieces.’

  Ginnie picked up a tea towel and began drying the glasses. ‘You’ve only got two nieces.’

  ‘Actually, I have a niece and three nephews by marriage, but as my former husbands’ families’ don’t speak to me, I’ve taken them off my Christmas card list.’ Avril perched on a bar stool and reached for her silver cigarette case. ‘Do you want to work at the military hospital, Ginnie? You don’t have to worry about money, you know. There are far more important things in life.’

  ‘I’d like to do something for the war effort, Auntie. Next year I’ll be called up or I’ll have to work in a factory, but I really don’t want to wait until then to do something for my country. I love helping out here but I feel that I’m taking the easy option.’

  ‘I don’t know about that, darling. But if working at the hospital is what you want then that’s what you must do. Shirley can help me and it will do her good to do something other than lying around on her bed all day, feeling sorry for herself.’

  ‘I look like a hippo in this dress,’ Shirley said, twisting round to get a better view in the mirror on their dressing table. ‘I can’t go to the dance looking like this.’

  ‘You look blooming,’ Ginnie said hastily. ‘And I’m not just saying that. The dress is a bit tight round th
e middle, but perhaps we could let out a seam.’

  ‘I’ve done that, silly.’ Shirley slumped down on her bed and her hair, smoothed into a slightly curly version of a Veronica Lake style, flopped artistically over one eye. ‘It’s all right for you; you look gorgeous in that old dress of mine, which will never fit me again.’

  Ginnie glanced down at the floral patterned cotton frock with its sweetheart neckline, fitted waist and flared skirt which she had shortened so that it barely kissed her knees. ‘You can have it back after the baby is born.’

  ‘I don’t want it. It’s old-fashioned and I’ll want something new. I can’t go out looking like this.’

  ‘Perhaps Auntie Avril has something you could wear.’

  ‘I don’t want to look as though I’m in fancy dress.’ Shirley’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I hate Charlie, and Laurence too. It’s all their fault and I’m left to cope on my own.’

  ‘Wait here a moment.’ Ginnie hurried from the room and went to knock on her aunt’s bedroom door. ‘It’s me, Ginnie. Can I come in?’

  Avril was sitting on her dressing-table stool, dabbing her cheeks with a powder puff. ‘This is the absolute last of my Elizabeth Arden,’ she groaned. ‘I’ll be down to using cornflour soon. My adorable American colonel won’t be returning to Lightwood House, more’s the pity. He brought me a supply of cosmetics from the States a year ago, but they’re like gold dust now.’ She turned her head to look at Ginnie. ‘What’s the matter, darling? You look flustered.’

  ‘It’s Shirley. She’s not happy.’

  ‘It’s becoming a habit. What’s wrong now?’

  ‘Her dress is too tight. Actually it looks fine and she’s a picture of health but she won’t have it. I was wondering if . . .’

  ‘If I had anything that might fit her. There’s no need to look embarrassed, Ginnie. I’m well aware that my figure is more voluptuous than it was in the days when I was an artist’s model – I was a sylph then but I like to think I’ve matured to Rubenesque.’ She rose from her seat and walked over to the bird’s-eye walnut wardrobe. Rifling through the tightly packed garments she tossed one after another onto the bed. ‘There must be something here that would satisfy her. Ask her to come here and choose, Ginnie.’

  They kept Nick and Tony waiting for a good fifteen minutes but Ginnie was quick to reassure her sister and told her that she looked stunning, which was true. One of Avril’s pure silk empire line gowns was cut daringly low across the bosom and gathered above the waist so that it concealed Shirley’s bump in a swirl of turquoise, lime green and navy blue. Tony’s appreciative whistle was enough to bring the smile back to her face and enabled Ginnie to relax for the first time that evening.

  The jeep was waiting outside to take them to the village and Nick handed Ginnie into the passenger seat. ‘You look a million dollars,’ he said appreciatively. ‘And so do you, Shirley,’ he added hastily, taking his place behind the wheel.

  ‘That was kind of you,’ Ginnie said in an undertone as he started the engine.

  ‘It was nothing but the truth.’ He drove off, sending up a shower of gravel and a cloud of dust. ‘Hold tight, ladies. We’re off to the ball.’

  When they arrived at the village hall Ginnie was thrilled and a little overawed to see couples jiving energetically, but it was enough to convince her that her basic knowledge of dance steps was pitifully inadequate. Unless it was the polka, the veleta or an old-fashioned waltz, which had been taught at school on days when it was too wet to go outside and play netball or hockey, she was lost. She might have panicked and run if Nick had not had a firm grip on her hand, but he seemed to sense her nervousness and embraced her with a warm smile. ‘Don’t worry, kid,’ he said softly. ‘I promise not to throw you around like those guys. It’s not my scene.’

  Although the doors had been flung wide open the air inside was stiff with the heady mix of aftershave, cheap perfume and perspiration with overtones of cider and beer, cigarette smoke and the occasional waft of a cigar.

  ‘There’s Danny,’ Shirley said, waving to him. ‘Who’s that blonde woman who looks as though she’s going to eat him for supper?’

  Tony slipped his arm around her waist. ‘That’s Nurse Helga Halvorsen. She has the face of an angel and the temper of someone you wouldn’t want to meet. You don’t get on the wrong side of Helga.’

  ‘I doubt if our paths will cross.’ Shirley pulled her mouth down at the corners, reminding Ginnie forcibly of their mother in disapproving mode.

  ‘Let’s get something to drink,’ Nick said hastily. ‘I think it’s only beer and cider, although I suspect that there’s a tea urn bubbling away somewhere.’

  ‘I’d love a glass of cider.’ Ginnie crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that Nick would not remember that she was underage.

  He gave her a quizzical smile. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something, honey?’

  ‘It was worth a try. I suppose I’ll have a soft drink, as usual.’

  ‘I’d rather dance,’ Shirley said before Tony had a chance to speak. ‘They’ve changed the record to play something more my style. I just love the foxtrot.’

  Tony pulled a face. ‘I guess I’ll have a go, but you might find that I’ve got two left feet.’ He led her onto the dance floor and they swayed together in time to the music. Ginnie stood on her own, waiting for Nick to edge his way to the makeshift bar to get their drinks. She had never attended a function like this and she was fascinated by the way the girls had made themselves glamorous despite clothes rationing and the difficulty in obtaining any kind of cosmetics. Lips were brightened with beetroot juice and silk stockings replicated by the judicious application of gravy browning, with the seams drawn in eyebrow pencil.

  Ginnie felt underdressed and insignificant compared to the local girls, who were dolled up in their best frocks and determined to have a good time. The war seemed far distant on such a balmy summer evening far away from the bomb-damaged towns and cities. Ginnie had hated every minute of the war until now, but if it were not for the conflict in Europe she would never have met Nick. She watched him making his way back to her with a glass in each hand. He moved slowly and sinuously, taking care not to spill a drop, and as he reached the open doors the rays of the setting sun caught him in a spotlight and the rest of the room seemed to fade into a blurry haze. The only person she could see was Nick. His sleek head of hair gleamed blue-black and his tanned skin glowed with health. His smile enveloped her like warm honey as he pressed a glass into her hand.

  ‘It’s cider,’ he whispered. ‘I won’t tell anyone you’re just a kid.’

  ‘And I won’t tell anyone that you’re an old man of twenty-six,’ she countered, taking a sip.

  ‘Twenty-five. I won’t be twenty-six until Christmas.’

  ‘Do you think the war will be over by then?’

  His smile faded. ‘I don’t know. I wish I could see an end to it all, but I can’t. Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘But when it’s over you’ll be going home to America.’ The rosy glow that had made her feel like singing for joy suddenly dissipated and the reality of the shabby church hall with its tired bunting and windows criss-crossed with sticky tape hit her full force. It was overcrowded and couples were either dancing cheek to cheek in a manner which would have shocked her mother or were getting drunk at the bar. The noise was rising in a crescendo and her head was beginning to ache.

  ‘Sure, I will,’ Nick said gently. ‘But that’s a long way off.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She knew what he said was true but her evening was already ruined. She had fallen in love with a man who would one day return to his old life in his own country and he would forget all about her.

  Nick took the glass from her and placed it on the windowsill amongst a sprinkling of dead flies. ‘Shall we dance? “Moonlight Serenade” is one of my favourites.’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ She was in his arms, moving in time to the romantic sound of Glenn Miller’s orchestra, and the magic returned. She leaned ag
ainst him, intoxicated by the scent of him and the hardness of his body as he held her close. She felt that she was floating and her feet hardly seemed to touch the floor. The steel rafters that supported the ceiling had been replaced in her imagination by a canopy of black velvet sky studded with stars. She slid her arms around his neck and they moved together as one person.

  ‘Hey, put that girl down, Nick. You’re creating a road block here, buddy.’ Danny’s loud voice shattered the moment and Ginnie let her arms fall to her sides. She raised her head and found herself looking into the beautiful but stony face of Nurse Helga Halvorsen.

  ‘Isn’t she a bit young for you, lieutenant?’ Helga said coldly.

  ‘What’s the matter, Helga? Aren’t you having fun?’ Nick’s tone was icy and he drew Ginnie back into the shelter of his arms. ‘You should look after your lady a bit better, Danny.’

  Helga opened her mouth as if to argue, but Danny took her by the hand. ‘C’mon, honey. Let’s get a beer.’ He headed for the bar, dragging her in his wake.

  Nick moved in time to the music. ‘Don’t take any notice of Helga.’

  ‘Is there a history between you two?’

  ‘We work together, Ginnie. We had a few dates but nothing serious. I guess that Helga’s the possessive type. She doesn’t want me but she doesn’t like it if I show a preference for someone else.’

  ‘And do you prefer me to her?’

  His liquid brown eyes shone with amusement. ‘I guess I do. You’re cute and funny and . . .’

  ‘If you mention my age once more I’ll have to stamp on your toes,’ Ginnie said with feeling. ‘I’ll be twenty next year. I’m not much younger than you or her, if it comes to that.’

  ‘In years maybe, but not in experience. You’ve led a sheltered life in your poppa’s furniture shop.’

  ‘Now you’re laughing at me.’

  ‘Never.’ He bent his head and brushed her lips with his. His eyes darkened and he held her close, taking her mouth in a kiss that seemed to go on forever and she wished that it would. Her toes felt as though they were curling inside her summer sandals and her heart was thudding against the buttons of his uniform jacket. Someone cheered and slapped Nick on the back in passing and he relaxed his hold, drawing back to take a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I guess I got carried away.’