Sunshine Spirit

by Barbara Willis

  'Is everyone safe? I mean, I just assumed you were in the house alone.'

  Jane smiled, quick to reassure. 'Yes everyone's absolutely fine, thank you. I was the only one home. The girls have all found their own places to stay with friends and relatives; thankfully we're not too far apart. Dorothy, Aggie and Florence are my dearest friends in the world.'

  'Glad to hear everyone's alright. What about your things? Do you have all you need, clothes and other stuff?'

  'Yes, thank you. I'm fine, honestly. I've got all I need.'

  'Alright, but if not I could always ask some of the girls.' He nodded back towards the stage door a few steps behind them.

  'That's very kind but I really am fine.'

  'Ok. But please ask if there's anything I can do.'

  'I will. Now I must apologise for not asking after your friends. You were searching for them at the school hall. Are they safe?'

  Will chuckled. 'All over the place, but all safe. Shelter found in most cases, but the chap I share a flat with was asleep in his bed, would you believe. I thought they were all still at the theatre with me but apparently not.'

  'I'm glad everyone was safe.'

  'Me too. Now, how about that stroll?' He looked behind him and counted imaginary markers on the pavement. 'Ten yards does not a stroll make.'

  'Actually, I'd better get home. I've still got a few things to organise after, well, after Friday.'

  'You don't sound too sure.' Will raised his eyebrows in hopeful question as they walked a few steps more.

  'I just, well, I have things to do.' Jane hesitated. 'I really do need to do some things.' The excuse sounded feeble under Will's scrutiny, so Jane added another. 'And I don't normally accept random invitations from strange men.'

  'Are you calling me strange, young lady?'

  Jane laughed. 'No.'

  'Well, that's a start.' Will turned serious. 'Maybe another time?' Jane nodded self-consciously and smiled. 'Great stuff. Can I at least take you home then?'

  'Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.'

  'If you don't mind we can take my motorcycle.'

  'Oh,' Jane hesitated at the suggestion but Will didn't seem to notice.

  'It's just down here.' Will motioned with his arm down the narrow street that ran from the stage door away from the theatre. They walked a little further and turned a corner into another quiet, narrow street. 'Here she is.' Will smiled again as he stopped next to the machine and turned to speak to Jane as he bent down to retrieve something from between the front wheel and a shiny chrome pipe.

  The motorbike was black with Sunbeam swirled in gold on the tank. It stood proud and clean, albeit a little worn looking. With shiny chrome exhaust and delicate gold lettering spelling out its name, it whispered 'loved and faithful' to Jane in the growing darkness.

  'Here, you must put this on.' He offered Jane the dull round crash helmet that he'd plucked from behind the front wheel. Jane hesitated and Will shook the helmet in front of her. 'No helmet, no ride,' he chided and moved to put the helmet on her. Jane instinctively dodged her head back as he tried to place it on her head. 'Come on, young lady.' She let him put it on and he fastened the strap under her chin. Jane turned to look at her reflection in the window of the adjacent building and grimaced as she turned back to Will.

  'Well, that's attractive.' Jane raised her eyebrows and Will stifled a smile as he stepped back to regard her.

  'It looks marvellous. All the young ladies are wearing them you know,' he said in mock authority. 'Very haute couture.' Jane moved to undo the strap, but Will shook his head. 'No you don't.' He took hold of her hands. 'As I said; no helmet, no ride.'

  'What about you then, you appear to only have one crash helmet.'

  'Well, I have a hard head.' He dismissed Jane's concern as he took the handlebars and rocked the bike forward to release it from the rear stand which held it firm. He gestured with his hand as though inviting Jane to board a carriage and, hesitantly, she did as he instructed and he took her left hand to steady her. He hopped on the bike in front and she gripped the seat either side of her. He stood up then and kicked down onto the pedal to start the engine. He had to do this three times before the machine roared to life. Their transport settled into a comfortable grumble as Will sat back down and then reached back to take Jane's hands from the fearful grasping of the seat, and pulled them gently but firmly around his waist. He turned his head to the side to speak to her. 'Now, first I need to know where I'm going young lady. Then, just relax and stay with me. When I lean, you lean. Simple.' Jane nodded even though Will couldn't see her and held tightly to him. 'Don't worry; I won't let you fall off.'

  Destination confirmed and no going back, Jane took a deep breath. She found that she liked the sensation of being firmly bound to William Batten and leaned forward into his back. Her pleasure turned to nerves as the motorbike pulled away and she tightened her grip around his reassuringly steady body. She didn't see Will smile to himself as the machine moved off and he felt her body tense, and he didn't see her close her eyes tightly for the first couple of hundred yards.

  As the streets passed by, Jane relaxed a little and began to enjoy the new sensations she was given; the freedom of independent motor travel, the lean of the motorcycle as they turned corners, even the wind in her face, but most of all Jane enjoyed Will's firm strength as she leaned against his back and kept her arms firmly wrapped around his waist. It had taken a little while for Jane to feel safe enough to turn her head to look around and not to feel as though she clung to a cliff edge.

  London passed by Jane's eyes in a different way than it ever had before. When walking, she realised now, she either kept her head down or looked just at what was immediately around her. When taking the bus, she only saw the pedestrians that walked the streets and the other vehicles that shared the road.

  Now, she took in the buildings as they passed.

  There were tall impressive buildings, most still standing proud despite the almost nightly onslaught of fire and explosion; they still held their authority even though prepared with sand-bags and windows taped with the now familiar white crosses to protect the inhabitants from broken glass should an explosion be near enough to implode the windows.

  Other structures hadn't been so lucky; homes, shops, hotels and offices brought to their rubble reduced knees. Along one broken street a tram lay on its side like an abandoned toy. Some buildings they passed were razed completely to the ground, others still tried bravely to stand firm despite losing two or maybe three of their supporting walls. One house looked to Jane like a dolls' house with the front wall removed. It was as though there had never been a front wall or the door and windows it contained. The rooms stood revealed to the world, exposed but almost unharmed, showing the lives that had once been lived inside; sadly not those of dolls, but of people. These broken and sad, previously solid, constructions reminded everyone not of war but possibilities; the destruction that stared into the faces of all the city's inhabitants every single day, the chance that this devastation could arrive holding hands with death, the possibility that you may well survive despite all the odds that screamed your chances at you.

  Above this destruction and bleakness, the bent metal and shattered lives, there was defiance in the air and on the faces of those who remained in the city. Life continued; schools taught, hospitals treated, shops traded, restaurants fed and theatres entertained. Jane's fellow London dwellers kept going; they worked, they slept, they celebrated birthdays, marriages and births and they cleaned up and carried on when destruction came. Strangers became friends in many places; they reached out to each other and most shared what they had, however little. Life was bad and life was good. The important things had become important again.

  Jane's mind drifted to those she'd met who seemed almost oblivious to the reality of all of this. Mrs Cartlyn, who had a suite of rooms on the seventh floor of the Grandchester, emitted an air of disgust about 'the whole ghastly affair' and termed the difficulties this brought as
'troublesome'; her delicately powdered nose would turn up at the 'goings on' in the streets seven floors below. She rarely left her rooms but when she did so, was taken by her driver who always ushered her deferently to the waiting Rolls Royce. Mrs Cartlyn waved away any mention of war, as though she were dismissing talk of the latest young persons' craze, something that would not dare affect her and which left an unpleasant taste on one's palette. Jane smiled with an indulgent affection. Mrs Cartlyn seemed to like her, a gift not bestowed on many in the hotel. No, that was unkind. She didn't dislike others, she just seemed indifferent to most of them, whereas she would sometimes say more than the minimum required when speaking with Jane. Jane liked Mrs Cartlyn; she spoke her mind and could wither even the most confident person with a glance should she choose to. People either loved or hated her, mostly the latter, especially those who'd been unfortunate enough to feel the whip of her lash-like tongue.

  It was with relief and disappointment that Jane loosened her grip as the journey slowed and Will steered the Sunbeam to the curb just a few steps down the road from Jane's new home. Just for a moment, Jane wished that she lived further away. Will switched off the engine and hopped off to help Jane undo and remove the crash helmet.

  He took the crash helmet from Jane as she ran her fingers through her flattened hair and then he took her hand to help her disembark.

  'Thank you. That was fun. More fun than I expected actually.'

  'Wouldn't like to travel any other way,' he agreed. 'I told you I wouldn't let you fall off.' Then he laughed to himself.

  'What? What are you laughing at?'

  'Sunshine on a Sunbeam.'

  'Very funny,' Jane admonished, although she couldn't help but release a giggle too. 'You're quite mad.'

  'Best way to be, young lady, best way to be.' Will smiled as he bent to slide the helmet once more behind the front wheel. He stood up then pointed back at the helmet. 'Always there when I come back, don't worry.'

  There was a moment of silence before Jane spoke.

  'I really had a lovely time at the theatre, thank you.'

  'You are most welcome.' He stressed the most then looked at his watch. 'I suppose it's a tad unusual to be invited to the theatre only to watch the show alone. I'm sorry it was unorthodox.' He looked embarrassed, despite his confident manner. After a little boy hesitation, he continued. 'Rather than going in now, would you like to go out for dinner?'

  With an indulgent smile Jane declined. 'You are persistent. I'd like to, but I have to be at work for seven o'clock tomorrow. And as I said…'

  'I know, I know. You have things to do and I'm a strange man.' Will looked crestfallen for the slightest of moments, before smiling and taking Jane's hand. 'Life's very short young lady. There are hours until you start work tomorrow. Don't waste time over-preparing with sleep when the city awaits. It's the best time to be out. The lights of London, the sounds and the smells, the magic of a night in the city.'

  Jane frowned.

  'Bombs you mean, not magic.'

  'No, I definitely mean magic. Like I said; the lights, the smells, the sounds.'

  'Don't you know there's a war on? There are no lights anymore. It's a blackout William.'

  'Ah, but that's where you're wrong Sunshine. When the lights of London go out, that's when the city really lights up. And it's Will, please.' Jane raised her eyebrows at Will and he winked at her mysteriously. 'Jane, life speeds up now. People all around us are making the most of every moment. Things happen quickly. Life has to move faster in case there's limited time to fit it all into. We all need to reach out and grab things; opportunities, life itself. And people.'

  As Will spoke his eyes bore right through Jane's, burning into her mind and down though her chest to her core. Hesitance cracked open to become spontaneity, life became exciting.

  She gave in. 'Alright. Yes, ok.' Even as she said it, Jane was surprised to hear her words.

  'I'll come back for you in a couple of hours.' He bent down slightly to look directly into her eyes at the same level. 'Alright?' Jane nodded and Will turned back to his motorcycle retrieving the crash helmet, unceremoniously plonking it on his head then kick starting the machine into action before he rode off with helmet unfastened and hand waving goodbye. Jane sighed with a suddenly affectionate exasperation and smiled as she turned towards the front door.

  'What am I doing?' she quietly asked.

  Mrs Foster knocked on Jane's door just before eight that evening to advise that there was a young man waiting in the hall for her. Jane, refreshed and tidy, thanked her landlady, picked up her bag, gas mask, coat and hat and trotted down the two flights of stairs to find Will standing nervously inside the front door turning the brim of his trilby round and round in his fingers. As he looked up and saw Jane he smiled.

  'No Sunbeam?'

  'Nope. Thought we'd walk. A first ride on her in the daylight is one thing, but putting you on her in total blackout is another.'

  Knowing no crash helmet beckoned, Jane carefully put her hat on in the hall mirror as she saw Will plonk his own on behind her. He held open the front door for her and they stepped into the darkened street.

  Jane was surprised to feel Will's hand seek hers out and they walked away from Mrs Foster's and along the unlit pavement, both pleased with the contact. They strolled in silence for some time until they came to the river. Will stopped by a bench looking out over the water; he motioned for Jane to sit down and then sat next to her. He lifted his hand to Jane's cheek and with gentle fingers turned her head to face down the river. He waited as Jane caught her breath. The sight she saw was as beautiful as any sparkling lights.

  The moon was full and high. In the blackened city it looked brighter than ever before. With no contest from street lights, cars or windows it was free to throw its light out to the world uncontested. The gentle ripples on the river sucked the light to them and blinked brightly back at the sky as they went on their way.

  'It's really beautiful.' Jane said.

  'It certainly is. I told you London's best when the lights go out.' He looked down to rummage in his deep overcoat pocket and drew out a paper bag and a small hip flask. Jane frowned without realising and Will laughed as he saw her expression. 'I invited you out for dinner and dinner we shall have.' He slid back along the bench away from Jane, leaving a space between them, and lay out carefully on the seat what looked like a starched white handkerchief. On to that he emptied the contents of the paper bag. Two sandwiches, a pork pie and two hard-boiled eggs. He stood the small hip flask against the back of the bench and gestured to the feast with a theatrical wave of his hand. 'Voila! Dinner is served. Better than the Ritz.' He looked to Jane for reaction and she laughed, at which he feigned offence. 'What? You laugh? I'll have you know this restaurant has the best view in London!' Then he added in a stage whisper as he coughed. 'Well, that, and I'm on actor's wages.'

  They laughed together and then tucked into a romantic dinner for two of corned beef sandwiches, pork pie and hard-boiled egg.

  The Grandchester

  As Jane walked along the waking streets of London the next morning, she smiled at her memory of the previous evening.

  After their dinner on the bench, Jane and Will chatted for a long time, then strolled alongside the river. Will tried to encourage Jane to dance with him as he sang 'By the Light of the Silvery Moon' but Jane was reluctant. She'd shivered as the night air crept inside her insubstantial coat; Will had again offered her the flask that she'd already declined during their meal. 'Go on,' he'd urged, 'one sip won't hurt, it'll just warm the cockles.' Jane took the flask and tipped it to her lips. The warm but sharp liquid seemed to touch every part of her tongue before it slipped down her throat, leaving a burning warmth in its wake. Jane coughed slightly as she handed the flask back to Will. Returning it to his roomy pocket, Will then rubbed Jane's arms before hesitantly enfolding her into his to warm her almost as though he waited for her to say no. However, Jane liked the feeling and the charm of his nervous delay. 'Come on
, let's get you home in the warm. Your landlady will be thinking I've kidnapped you, or dragged you away to join the circus or something.' Then he took off his coat and wrapped it around Jane's shoulders before they walked along the quiet and slumbering streets back to Jane's new home, just as the siren sounded.

  The streets Jane now passed in the morning light were surging into life rather than going to sleep. People were heading off to work and Jane hurried along as a few drops of rain began to fall. She reached the welcoming face of the hotel and said hello to the doorman as she passed him. She entered not by the main door in the impressive street frontage but via a side door reserved for staff. Off of the narrow corridor that followed there were five rooms, one was a small storage area, another an office where staffing, rotas and stock ordering were dealt with, the third was a small staff canteen and the last two were cloakrooms. Jane headed to her locker to hang her coat, hat and bag. She gave herself a quick check over in the mirror, smoothed down her dress, straightened her collar and made her way to the front desk, greeting colleagues on her way as night shift swapped for day.

  Jane enjoyed her job and loved people. The hotel welcomed new guests daily and, despite the times, was always busy. There were a few guests who had taken up almost a permanent residence in the hotel, such as the irrepressible Mrs Cartlyn, a few who used it as a base where they regularly stayed for days or weeks at a time and those more traditional guests who stayed for one or two nights and then left for good.

  Before half past eight, sometimes nine, the hotel usually only bustled with staff as breakfasts were delivered to rooms or tables prepared in the grand dining room. After this, most guests descended from their rooms, deliveries were received, post was sorted and pigeon-holed, telephone calls were answered and a hundred other things happened in the lobby and beyond.

  Mr Hugh Callaghan was one of the first guests Jane saw that morning; bizarrely he was returning to his room rather than leaving it, having strolled in nonchalantly through the impressive front doors, extinguishing a cigarette just outside before he entered. He raised his hat a fraction and nodded when he passed the front desk 'Good morning Jane,' he called as he climbed the stairs. Jane called a Good Morning Mr Callaghan in return and appraised him as she looked at the back of his retreating form, sprinkled with drops of rain which darkened on the pale fawn of his coat.