She let sensation wash over her, her stomach contracting as he pressed against her. Out here, in the dark, what they were doing somehow felt less wrong. But in there, on the dance floor she had betrayed Eddie in the most public way possible. Through that single, reckless act she had crossed a line in her marriage. And in doing so she had caused this man actual, physical harm.
Dilys’s words crept into her head. Did you think I’d been with a Yank? She had spat them out, full of contempt, as if going with an American was little better than being a prostitute. What would Dilys make of this, Eva wondered?
She clung to Bill in the growing darkness, her head against his chest. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent. The pulsing heat low down in her belly told her just how much she wanted him. She was stunned, shocked by the chemistry between them. What was it about him?
She tried to remember how it had been with Eddie. It had been exciting, yes, at the beginning, but in a different way. She had been excited about getting married. About having a baby. About having someone older to rely on instead of being the one everyone else depended on. But kissing Eddie had never made her feel this way.
“I love this,” Bill said, stroking her hair. “You’re so pretty!”
Eva smiled inside. He made her feel pretty—in spite of her ripped dress and her rough hands with their chipped nails.
“I feel like I need to pinch myself,” he said. “I never kissed a girl like you before.”
Eva found this hard to believe. He was so striking. He must have had plenty of girls after him back home. She frowned, trying to remember what the thug on the dance floor had said. Something about making the most of it in Britain.
“What did that lout mean?” she asked. “You know, when he was ranting on about Texas?”
Bill’s head was resting against her neck. She felt the muscles of his jaw tense. “Where I come from, we have these stupid laws,” he said. “Depends what state you live in, but in the South, most places colored folks and white folks don’t mix. It’s not allowed.”
“Don’t mix? You mean like this?” She traced his lips with her finger.
“Uh-huh.” He took her finger in his mouth. “Crazy, I know,” he mumbled.
“I didn’t know it was like that. How can they do that?”
“They think we’re inferior to them. That’s the top and bottom of it,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Same in the army. We don’t get to fight, don’t get to handle weapons; all we’re here for is to cook for them, clean up after them, that kind of thing.”
“Is that what you do? Cook, I mean?”
He went quiet for a moment. “That’s not what I wanted to do. I wanted to fight.”
She thought of Eddie then, wondered what he would say in response. Eddie hadn’t wanted to fight. His father had been mustard-gassed in 1916 and returned from the war a shadow of the man he’d once been. He’d died when Eddie was ten years old, too weak to withstand the bronchitis that plagued him each winter. No wonder Eddie had dreaded being called up.
“Have you lost anyone, Eva?” Bill’s question sliced through her thoughts like a knife. Had he guessed? Was she that easy to read? She was framing some vague response when the sound of giggling floated across the square from the gloomy recesses of the shop fronts. Eva’s breath caught in her throat. Dilys! Where was she? And what had she been doing all this time?
She pulled away from Bill’s arms. “I’ve got to find my sister! I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her . . .” She stumbled down the steps, fumbling in her bag for her torch, calling Dilys’s name.
“Hey, wait a minute!” She could hear his footsteps behind her as she ran toward the shops, past the ghostly market stalls. “Let me help you!” A needle-thin beam of light fell on the metal framework of the stall in front of her. “Whoa!” he said as he caught up to her. “How do you know she’s not back inside, dancing?”
“I looked for her when the lights went on and she wasn’t there,” Eva groaned. “She’s only fifteen and she was with one of those Dutch soldiers!” She bit her lip as the beam of her own torch, dimmed by the brown paper wrapped over its end, caught a flash of bare legs in one of the shop doorways.
They walked the length of the row of shops—the groans, whispers, and giggles punctuated by shouts of abuse as her torch beam settled on one couple after another. Dilys was not there.
“Come on,” Bill said, “let’s go back inside—she’ll be in there, you betcha.”
It was hard to adjust to the brightness of the lights as they pushed open the inner doors. Bill hung back as Eva headed into the crowd.
“Where have you been?” Eva jumped as she heard her friend’s voice. There was a mischievous grin on Cathy’s face as she glanced at the pale-khaki jacket around Eva’s shoulders.
“Oh, don’t ask!” Eva cast a nervous smile. “I’ve been trying to find Dilys. And anyway,” she said, eyebrows arching, “what happened to you? You disappeared during the Blackout Stroll.”
“I went to look for Dilys too: I needed an excuse to ditch that RAF chap. Hands everywhere—like Christopher Columbus discovering America!” Cathy rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I found her in that little alcove behind the cloakroom. She’s over there now.”
Eva followed Cathy’s gaze and spotted Dilys waltzing toward the stage. Her partner was the same Dutch soldier as before.
“Cathy, they weren’t . . .”
“Don’t worry! They were just necking. The minute Dilys clapped eyes on me, she turned bright red and shot back onto the dance floor.”
“Thanks, Cathy. I should never have gone outside.”
Cathy’s mouth framed the beginning of a question, but Eva felt a sudden rush of cold air against the back of her legs. Someone had opened the doors behind her. Her hand shot to her behind as she remembered her torn dress. She stepped backward and sideways into the sheltering shadow of the wall, pulling Bill’s jacket off her shoulders and knotting it around her waist again. Cathy followed, a look of amused confusion on her face. Before Eva could explain, she heard someone shout Bill’s name.
“Hey man, you okay?”
She saw another black GI, shorter than Bill and with small, darting eyes, pushing his way through the knots of people at the edge of the dance floor.
“I heard about what happened.” Jimmy peered into Bill’s face, taking in the graze beneath his eye.
“And where were you when I needed you?” Bill dug his friend in the ribs and grunted a laugh.
“Getting to know a young lady,” Jimmy replied coyly. He glanced toward the door. “Don’t worry—she’s gone home. And in case you’re wondering, no one saw us. What were you thinking of, man? If you want to get past first base without getting flattened, you’d better do your smooching in the dark!”
Bill’s expression told him to button his lip.
The music faded out and couples began filing past them, heading for the door. Over the babble of voices the MC bid everyone good night. Where was Eva? Bill craned his neck, looking over the heads for that distinctive long red hair.
“Wait for me a minute, will you?”
Jimmy gave him a sideways look. “You be careful, now!”
Eva was glancing distractedly about the room when she spotted Bill coming toward them. He stopped when he caught sight of Cathy. She bit her lip. What should she do? She didn’t want him to leave. Not without saying good-bye. She smiled at him, angling her head, trying to communicate without drawing attention to them both. She saw him glance at the people on either side of her before stepping forward.
“Good evening, ma’am.” He addressed Cathy first, with the same small bow he had given Eva earlier. “Would you excuse me? There’s something I need to ask your friend.” He leaned in close to Eva. “Can I walk you home?”
Eva felt his breath on her face. It set her skin on fire, the blush spreading all the way down to the neckline of her dress. She glanced at Cathy, whose eyes were like saucers. “Well,” she said, “I’m with my friend . . . and my sis
ter. We’re all walking back together and . . .” She hesitated, embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of Cathy.
“I don’t mind,” Bill replied. “I’ll walk you all home.”
Before she could respond, she heard another voice call his name. It was the man Eva had seen before. His friend. He was coming toward them. He stopped when he was still a few feet away from where they stood, cupping his hand around his mouth.
“Come on, man! You’re gonna miss the wagon!”
“Could you wait just a second?” Bill said to the women. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
He strode over to his friend. Eva couldn’t hear what he said, but she could see the expression on the other man’s face. With a frown, a shrug, and a shake of the head, Bill’s friend turned away.
“Wow!” Cathy whispered. “Where did you find him?”
Eva just looked at her, tongue-tied. “I . . . I . . . is it okay?” she stuttered. “For him to walk us home, I mean?”
Cathy nodded. “Fine by me.”
Bill was coming back. “What do you say?” He looked from Eva to Cathy.
“Are you sure?” Eva asked. “Won’t you be late getting back to your camp?”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll wait for you outside, okay?”
He was halfway to the door, swallowed up in the crush of people leaving, when Dilys came bouncing up to them, hand in hand with her Dutch soldier.
“This is Anton,” she said, looking smug. “He’s from Holland: Maastricht.” She rolled the name of the city off her tongue and through her teeth like a purring tiger.
Eva held out her hand. He didn’t look any younger, up close. She wondered if he had any idea her sister was only just out of school.
“Guess what,” Dilys said, beaming, “he’s going to give us all a lift home!”
“Oh . . .” Eva looked at Cathy. “But we were going to walk . . .”
“Oh no! Who wants to walk when you can travel in style?” Dilys grabbed Anton’s arm. “He’s a driver! Gets to swank about in all the posh cars, don’t you, darling?”
Eva winced. Anton was gazing adoringly at her sister.
“So this is what we’ll do,” Dilys went on before Eva could get a word in. “Anton’s going to take his boss to the barracks and then come back for us—we’ll only have to wait for about a quarter of an hour—”
“But Dilys,” Eva cut in, “won’t he get into trouble?”
“’Course not!” Dilys laughed. “Don’t be such a spoilsport!”
Eva scanned the crowd of people by the door. Bill wasn’t among them. She took her sister by the hand and gave her a speaking look. Reluctantly, Dilys let go of her soldier and allowed herself to be taken to one side.
“Listen, Dil,” Eva whispered, “I’ll meet you outside in a minute, but I’ve just got to go and say good night to someone.”
“Mmm!” Dilys wiggled her eyebrows and cast about for a likely candidate. “Who is he, then?”
“Just mind your own business and leave me alone for five minutes, will you?” Eva hissed. “If you don’t, I’ll tell Mum all about you know who!” She cocked her head at Anton.
“Okay, keep your hair on!” Dilys flounced back to her man. “You’d better come with us,” she said to Cathy. “Don’t want to be a wallflower, do you?”
Eva rolled her eyes, mouthing “sorry” to Cathy, who shrugged and smiled before following Dilys and Anton out of the side entrance to the hall, which opened onto the street, not the square. This, presumably, was where Anton’s car was parked. Eva hoped Dilys wouldn’t be able to see her from there.
She needn’t have worried. There was no moon. It was now pitch-black outside. She had to call Bill’s name to find him.
“Look, it’s all right—I don’t want to get you into trouble,” he said when she explained what had happened. “Just promise me something, though, will you?”
“What?” She was suddenly aware of the sounds around her, of all the couples thronging the square, making reluctant, steamy farewells.
“Meet me next Saturday night, seven o’clock right here. We could go to the movies and I’ll take you for something to eat.”
“Next Saturday night?” The sound of her voice echoing his unnerved her. She nuzzled his chest, searching for the right words.
“Well? What d’you say?”
His eagerness shot her through with guilt. Would it be so terrible to say yes? A distant voice inside her head said that it would. That to take this any further would be as wrong as the punch that had felled him half an hour since. But she didn’t want to listen.
“Well, if the answer’s no,” he said wryly, “I’m going to have to give you this.” She felt him rummaging inside his jacket, which still hung from her waist. He found her hand and pressed something thin and hard and flat into it. “Here,” he said, “ransom for my jacket. I’d let you keep it, but I think someone back at camp might notice.”
“What is it?”
“It’s candy: a Hershey bar. Do you have them over here?”
Eva lifted it to her nose. The scent of it seeped through the wrapper. “Well, now, I was going to say yes to that date . . . but if it means I have to give this back, well . . .”
He grabbed her and kissed her, but she wriggled free.
“I’ve got to go,” she whispered, untying the jacket and hooking it over his arm. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Do we have a date, then? Really?”
“Yes.” She squeezed his arm. “We’ve got a date.”
Chapter 5
“It’s Curried Carrots or Spam Hash.” A woman in a hairnet bobbed up from nowhere, heaving a pile of plates onto the counter as Eva and Cathy arrived with their trays. “You’re lucky to get a choice on a Monday.”
“What about the pudding?” Cathy looked hopefully at the board above the hatch.
“Eggless Sponge with Mock Cream.”
“I can hardly wait,” Cathy muttered as the woman receded into the steaming kitchen.
“Never mind.” Eva pulled something from her pocket and slipped it under Cathy’s plate. “Have this—it’ll help take the taste away.”
Cathy’s eyes widened as her fingers found it. “It’s not . . .” She looked over her shoulder. “Eva,” she hissed, “where’d you get this?” Her head tilted as Eva busied herself collecting cutlery. “Was it that Yank at the dance? It was, wasn’t it?”
“It might have been,” Eva bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. “Sorry it’s not very much, but I gave a bit to David and a bit to Mum. I’ve been trying to ration myself, but it’s not easy!”
Halfway through the meal Cathy leaned forward and whispered, “I daren’t ask what you did to deserve a whole bar of chocolate!”
This brought on a spasm of coughing from Eva, who had been about to swallow a mouthful of curry. The look on Cathy’s face reminded her of her old headmistress.
“I only kissed him!” She hissed, reaching for water and gulping it down.
“And?”
“And what?”
“What about next time?”
“Who said anything about a next time?” Eva glanced over her shoulder. “I suppose the gossips are having a field day.”
“It’s okay, you know,” Cathy said. “You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”
“Don’t I?” Eva mumbled, still staring at her plate. “I’ve promised to meet him next Saturday night and I feel as guilty as hell. If I knew how to get hold of him, I’d call it off.” She prodded the congealing remains of her lunch with her fork.
“But you want to see him?”
Eva made a face. “Is it that obvious?”
“I could tell as soon as I saw you. Your eyes are all . . . you know . . . and you’ve hardly stopped smiling all morning—I mean, how can anyone smile when they’re eating Curried Carrots?”
Eva gave a helpless shrug. “It’s like he pressed some switch I can’t turn off. I’ve been playing the whole thing back in my head. Over and over.
I can’t sleep for thinking about it.” With a sigh she pushed her plate away. “I know it’s wrong, but I’m desperate to see him again.”
“So do it.” Cathy’s voice was matter-of-fact.
“You wouldn’t, though, would you? If you were me?”
“But I’m not you. I can’t feel what you’re feeling and I can’t say what I’d do if I did.
Anyway, if I was to meet someone, I could go ahead and do pretty much what I liked, but you—you’re in an impossible situation.”
Eva traced a stain on the tablecloth with her finger. “I thought I was coping with it, though, Cathy. I was coming to work, looking after David, staying in with my mum most nights, just the odd trip to the pictures now and then. And I was okay. I didn’t sit there every night wishing I was out dancing or whatever. I’d got to a point where, secretly, I thought I didn’t really need a man at all. And then what happens? One night out and wham!”
“What’s his name, this Yank?”
“Bill. Bill Willis.”
“William Willis? His parents must have had a sense of humor!”
“Well, yes—I suppose it must be short for William. He didn’t say.”
Cathy smiled. “Too busy kissing, I suppose?”
Eva grunted. “We talked about all kinds of things, actually! Where he comes from, what it’s like at his camp, his thoughts about the war and . . .” she broke off, rubbing her finger around and around the greasy mark. “God, what must I sound like?”
“Worrying about Eddie’s not going to help, is it?” Cathy said gently. “How long since you heard anything?”
“Fifteen months since his last letter. Three weeks after that I got the telegram about his ship going down.” Eva raked her fingers through the tendrils of hair that had worked free from her cap. “Sometimes I have this nightmare that I’m with him on the ship and we’re trapped in a locked room with water pouring under the door. And when I wake up, I think for a second that he’s there in the bed beside me.” Her eyes pooled with tears and she swallowed hard. “Then I see David, fast asleep in his cot and it hits me. He’s never even going to remember Eddie. He’s never going to know what it’s like to have a dad.”
The Color of Secrets Page 4
