by Dilly Court
She was physically exhausted but she doubted if she would be able to sleep, and she needed to get her bearings before she went to bed. Unsurprisingly her room was at least four times larger than her bedroom at home. Glassed doors led to a balcony with views that were no doubt spectacular, but she would have to wait until morning to appreciate them. She peered into the darkness outside, wondering where Nick might be sleeping in this rambling house. He could be in the adjacent room for all she knew, and it was hard to believe that she would see him again in just a few short hours. She caught sight of her reflection in the dressing table mirror and her hand flew to her face. Dark shadows underlined her eyes and her skin was the colour of sour milk. Her hair hung in lank strands around her shoulders and she was in desperate need of a wash. Bob had forgotten to tell her where to find the bathroom and she never went to bed without first cleaning her teeth.
She opened her case and began to unpack, but there did not seem to be a wardrobe, just a row of louvred doors on the wall opposite the colonial-style four-poster bed. There was nothing for it but to try each in turn. Three doors opened to reveal a fitted wardrobe and behind the fourth was the sort of bathroom she had only seen in expensive magazines. Even better, there was a shower attachment in the bathtub. She would have such a lot to tell them back home, but now all she wanted to do was take a quick shower and climb into bed.
She was awakened by someone tapping on the door which opened slowly to admit a plump dark-haired lady who crossed the floor to place a small silver tray on the night stand. ‘Good morning, Ginnie. I’m Nick’s mom.’
Ginnie struggled to a sitting position. ‘I’m sorry. Have I overslept?’
Mrs Miller perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Of course not, honey. It’s nine thirty but I thought you might be hungry and breakfast’s ready when you are.’
Ginnie picked up the cup and saucer and sipped. ‘Tea,’ she said, smiling. ‘I thought you only drank coffee in America.’
‘Some of us like our tea and Danny told me that’s what you Brits drink first thing in the morning, so I wanted to make you feel at home.’
‘You’re very kind, Mrs Miller.’
‘Call me Barbara, honey. There’s no need to be formal.’
‘Thank you – Barbara.’ Ginnie took another sip from the cup. ‘How is Nick this morning? Does he know I’m here?’
Barbara rose swiftly to her feet. ‘Not yet. Bob took him to the hospital to see the ophthalmologist. Nick has regular visits to see how he’s doing.’
‘Has he regained much of his vision?’
‘Some, but we continue to hope.’ Barbara moved towards the doorway. ‘Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll be in the kitchen.’
Ten minutes later, having stopped for a few seconds to admire the view of distant mountains from the balcony, Ginnie had a quick wash in the luxury of her own bathroom and dressed in a cotton summer frock and sandals. She brushed her hair and made her way downstairs to search for the kitchen.
The tempting aroma of hot pancakes wafting through the house made it easy to find, and she paused on the threshold, gazing around the room in awe. It might have been a set from a glamorous American movie. Built-in units lined the walls and a refrigerator the size of a small wardrobe stood in one corner vying for pride of place with the range cooker, large enough to cater for a small army. Gingham curtains draped the window, framing a view of the garden filled with fan palms, trees that were different from anything she had seen at home and exotic plants set against a backdrop of the foothills. Ginnie stood transfixed. She had stepped off the plane into another world far from the austerity of cold, foggy, war-torn England and she might at any moment wake up and find it was all a dream.
Barbara lifted a pan from the hob and flipped a couple of pancakes onto a plate. ‘I hope you’re hungry, honey.’ She opened the oven and took out a tray of crispy bacon rashers, serving them onto the same dish. She placed it on the polished oak table where the centrepiece was a ceramic bowl filled with oranges.
‘Take a seat, and eat up, honey. There’s fresh orange juice in the jug, so help yourself. Would you like more tea or would you like to try our coffee?’
‘I’d like to try your coffee, please. We haven’t been able to get proper coffee for ages, and to be honest I can’t remember seeing this much food on one person’s plate for a very long time.’ Ginnie poured the freshly squeezed juice into a glass and tasted it with a sigh of pleasure. ‘This is absolutely gorgeous. I haven’t tasted fresh orange juice for years.’
Barbara abandoned the pans and took a seat at the table, resting her chin on her cupped hands. ‘Nick and Danny told us that it’s been difficult over there, but I had no idea it was so bad.’
‘Where is Danny? Is he still in bed?’
‘No, dear, he went with Bob and Nick. He’s been such a good friend to my boy both before and after Nick was wounded. Sometimes I think I’ve got three sons and not just two.’ She passed a jug to Ginnie. ‘Try some maple syrup on your pancakes.’
Ginnie cut into the soft buttery pancake and took a bite. The syrup was deliciously sweet with a slightly nutty flavour and added to the saltiness of the crisp bacon it was a wake-up call to her taste buds that had become accustomed to plain and frankly boring food.
‘I do like to see a girl with a good appetite,’ Barbara said with a nod of approval. ‘Some young women are so finicky; it makes me cross to see them pushing a pea around their plates as if it’s going to choke them.’ She cocked her head on one side. ‘I can hear the pick-up engine. I’d know that sound anywhere, and Earl is at the store so it must be the boys.’
Ginnie’s appetite deserted her and she leapt to her feet as the door opened and Danny walked into the kitchen, closely followed by Nick. He came to a sudden halt, as if sensing her presence. Ginnie could neither move nor breathe. He looked the same but although he might appear outwardly unchanged the light had gone from his eyes. His lips were set in a hard line and deep lines of suffering were etched on his face. She took a deep breath. ‘Hello, Nick.’
He recoiled at the sound of her voice. ‘Ginnie? It is you.’
‘Yes, Nick. It’s me.’
He rounded on Danny. ‘You brought her here? You did this in spite of what I said? Why would you do this to me?’
Barbara rushed towards him, arms outstretched. ‘Come and sit down, honey. We thought it would be a wonderful surprise.’
‘You should have known better, Mom.’ He turned to Danny, scowling. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’
‘For God’s sake, calm down,’ Danny said angrily. ‘Ginnie’s come all this way to see you.’
She took a step towards Nick but he held up his hands. ‘Don’t. Please, Ginnie, go home. This isn’t the place for you. Danny was wrong to bring you here.’ He walked towards the door with a measured tread as if counting the number of steps needed to make his escape.
Danny made a move to follow him but Barbara shook her head. ‘Let him go.’ She laid her hand on Ginnie’s shoulder. ‘That’s not like Nick. He’ll come round, you’ll see.’
‘I’d better make sure he’s okay,’ Danny said anxiously. ‘This is my fault, Barbara. I should have warned him.’
‘I shouldn’t have come.’ Ginnie found her voice at last but even to her own ears it sounded strange and strangled. ‘I’m sorry.’
Barbara moved closer, giving her a sympathetic hug. ‘Don’t be sorry. We’re the ones who handled it badly. Give him time.’
Ginnie shook her head. ‘He’s made his feelings clear. I was stupid to think that I could just turn up and everything would be all right.’
‘Maybe it was a mistake,’ Barbara said slowly. ‘But you’re our guest, and we’re delighted to have you stay with us. Now sit down and finish your breakfast.’ She went to the table and refilled her cup with coffee, spilling some in the saucer as her hand shook.
‘Maybe I ought to go and speak to him. At least I can tell him I’m sorry. I wanted to see him so much and I thoug
ht he’d want to see me.’ Ginnie made a move towards the door but Danny barred her way.
‘Bad idea, Ginnie. It wasn’t just you turning up out of the blue that made him flip his lid. The ophthalmologist told him that there hasn’t been any significant improvement in his vision, although I guess Nick knew that.’
‘But it’s early days yet,’ Barbara murmured.
Danny nodded. ‘Sure it is. Now why don’t I take Nick a cup of coffee?’
‘Yes, Danny. Do that, please.’ Barbara filled a cup and handed it to him. ‘He’ll come round. We just have to give him some space.’
It was one of the worst days of Ginnie’s life. Despite the show of kindness from Nick’s mother, she wanted to crawl away and hide. Nick’s outright refusal to speak to her was agonising and humiliating. She wished with all her heart that she had stayed at home. She had crossed the Atlantic chasing a dream and that dream had turned into a nightmare. She felt like a trespasser in the Millers’ luxurious home. Danny had returned to his own apartment and would be fully occupied for the next few days sorting out his own affairs, and Ginnie was left to entertain herself as Barbara had an appointment at the beauty parlour and Nick had shut himself in his room.
She sat in the den and read magazines and when that palled she went outside to walk round the garden, pausing every now and again to stare at the upper floor windows, wondering which room was Nick’s. It was torture to be this close and yet so far away from him. She wanted desperately to be near him if only to hold his hand and tell him that her feelings had not changed. She could only hope that he might relent when he had recovered from the initial shock of her sudden arrival, and that they could at least talk to each other like friends.
It was even worse that evening when Earl and Bob returned home accompanied by an attractive young woman, who greeted Ginnie with a warm smile. ‘Hi, I’m Bob’s fiancée, Marilyn.’
Earl stepped forward, holding out his hand. ‘And I’m Earl. Welcome to our home.’
‘I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out as you hoped, Ginnie,’ Bob said in a low voice. ‘Danny telephoned the shop and told me what happened this morning. It was our fault. The truth is we’ve been pussyfooting around him as if he was still an invalid instead of treating him like a responsible adult, but that doesn’t excuse the way he treated you.’
Even more embarrassed than before, Ginnie acknowledged his apology with a vague wave of her hand. ‘It was nothing, really.’
‘I don’t buy that for a moment. Maybe we were in the wrong, but Nick’s acting like a dope.’
‘That’s not fair, Bob.’ Barbara emerged from the dining room. ‘Nick just needs time to adjust.’
‘You always take his side, Mom,’ Bob said angrily. ‘Sure we all know he’s a war hero and he’s still suffering, but he’s behaving like a jerk.’
Earl stepped in between them. ‘Go upstairs and tell your brother that I expect him to come down to dinner.’
‘That’s not fair, Earl,’ Barbara said anxiously. ‘Let Nick work this out in his own time.’
‘You always did spoil that boy, Barbara.’
‘I’ll go,’ Bob said, making for the staircase. ‘But I can’t promise anything.’
‘I am so sorry,’ Ginnie said, fighting back tears. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’
Marilyn reached out to grasp her hand. ‘Don’t say that. It’s great to have you here.’
‘We’re forgetting our manners,’ Barbara said stiffly. ‘I’m sorry, Ginnie. What must you think of us?’
‘Why are we standing here when we could be out on the patio having a drink before dinner?’ Earl glanced at their glum faces with an attempt at a smile. ‘I need one after the day I’ve had at the store.’
‘Earl mixes the best cocktails in LA, and I can stretch ten into fifteen minutes if it helps everyone to unwind and relax.’ Without waiting for a response Barbara hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.
‘Let’s go through,’ Marilyn said, slipping her arm around Ginnie’s shoulders. ‘Papa Miller is the king of the martini makers. You must try one and see.’
Bob returned after an unsuccessful attempt to persuade his brother to join them for dinner. There was a strained atmosphere in the dining room when everyone sat down to eat, and despite the mellowing influence of a martini Ginnie could barely swallow a morsel of the huge steak that was served up to her. She toyed with the creamy mashed potato and hot biscuits, which she discovered were nothing like Rich Tea or Digestives, but more like scones served straight from the oven. She managed to eat a few of the crisp green beans, but it must have been obvious that she was struggling and Barbara removed her plate without comment. The family had tried to make light of Nick’s refusal to join them for dinner, but it was an uncomfortable meal and when dessert was finished Earl rose from his seat. ‘I’m not having this, Barbara. The boy might be suffering but we brought him up with better manners than this.’ He strode towards the doorway.
Barbara jumped to her feet. ‘Please don’t upset him, Earl.’
‘It’s time someone told him straight. Okay, he’s had it tough, there’s no denying the fact, but he’s got to face up to it sooner rather than later.’ He stormed out of the dining room leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
Barbara began clearing the table and Marilyn leapt to her feet. ‘Let me do that, Mom.’
‘I can manage, thank you, honey. Why don’t you take Ginnie into the den and I’ll bring coffee when I’m done in the kitchen.’ She shot a meaningful look at Bob. ‘But you can help if you’ve a mind to.’
He obeyed without hesitation and as they left the room Ginnie could imagine the agitated conversation taking place over the washing-up. She shot a wary glance at Marilyn. ‘I’m really sorry to have caused so much trouble.’
‘It’s not your fault, Ginnie. You weren’t to know and Danny thought he was doing Nick a favour.’
‘But it hasn’t worked out that way.’
Marilyn pushed back her chair and stood up. ‘Not yet, but don’t give up. Nick’s a great guy and he’s had a hard time.’
‘And I’ve made it even worse.’
‘Maybe – maybe not.’ Marilyn angled her head. ‘Tell you what, Ginnie. Tomorrow you and I will have a girls’ day out. I’ll show you all that Eagle Rock has to offer.’
‘But don’t you have to work?’
Marilyn tossed her blonde curls. ‘Sure I do, but what’s the point of being engaged to the boss’s son if I can’t take a day off when I want to?’
‘You are so lucky,’ Ginnie said sincerely. ‘Bob seems such a nice chap and Barbara has been kindness itself. All I’ve done is upset everyone.’
‘You mustn’t blame yourself. Tomorrow we’ll hit the stores and spoil ourselves. How does that sound to you?’
‘That sounds lovely, and perhaps Nick might have a change of heart and agree to see me.’
‘Maybe, honey. We’ll have to wait and see.’
A morning spent shopping with Marilyn was an experience that left Ginnie breathless and open-mouthed. After years of austerity and clothes rationing it was incredible to enter a shop and realise that she could have anything she wanted, if she had the money to pay for it. Marilyn bought a lipstick and some mascara, handing over the money without bothering to count her change. She was about to walk on when she stopped, turning to Ginnie with a questioning look. ‘Don’t you want anything from this department?’
‘I don’t wear much make-up. Actually it’s so hard to come by in England that women have been using other things.’
Marilyn’s eyes sparkled with sudden interest. ‘Like what?’
‘Beetroot juice on their lips. Soot on their eyelashes and used matches to emphasise their eyebrows.’
‘No, really?’
Warming to the subject, Ginnie nodded emphatically. ‘My sister used to smooth gravy browning on her legs and I had to draw a line up the back of her calves in eyebrow pencil because she couldn’t get silk stockings.’
‘You poor girl.
’ Marilyn pulled out her purse. ‘Let me treat you to something that you don’t need but would love to have.’
Ginnie shook her head. ‘No. Thanks a lot, but I couldn’t.’
‘Nonsense. You might be my sister-in-law one day and then we’d be family, so what will you have?’
‘Perhaps you could lend me the money to buy a lipstick for my mum. She’d really love that.’
‘For your mom? Okay, if that’s what you want then that’s what you’ll have.’
They spent some time choosing the right colour and Marilyn pressed the package into Ginnie’s hand. ‘I hope your mom likes it, but I’m still going to get you something, and don’t start by telling me what your sister would like or that girl who helps out in your store. Today is about you, Virginia Travis.’
Recognising a spirit akin to her mother’s forceful nature, Ginnie could only smile and hope that Marilyn would tire of her attempts to make up for Nick’s hurtful behaviour. She gave in a little when Marilyn bought several pairs of nylons and insisted that Ginnie must take them home. ‘Think of it as a present from Los Angeles,’ Marilyn said, smiling.
Ginnie had an image of day trips to Southend-on-Sea and the sticks of pink rock with the name of the town printed all the way through. Perhaps the stockings had Eagle Rock embroidered on the heel?
‘What’s funny?’ Marilyn eyed her warily. ‘Are you okay, Ginnie?’
Realising that she was grinning idiotically and probably on the verge of hysterical laughter, Ginnie pulled herself together and tried to explain, but Marilyn seemed to find it difficult to appreciate the joke. She shook her head. ‘I guess that all you Brits are crazy. I could use a coffee. How about you?’
Ginnie was about to ask if it was possible to get a cup of tea when she realised that she had lost Marilyn’s attention. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Keep walking. No, it’s too late, she’s spotted us.’ Marilyn came to a halt, curving her lips into a smile. ‘Hi, Betsy.’