'Yes, of course.'
Mrs Foster entered and looked gravely at Jane as she closed the door quietly behind her.
'Is everything alright Mrs Foster?' Jane stood completely still with coat half on as she watched her landlady.
'Jane, I just wanted to say a few things. I'm not old fashioned and I don't mind at all having your young man calling and sharing the occasional meal and so forth. And I'm a modern woman and I like having you here. But if there's trouble with your young man, or if he's in trouble, I can't have him bringing it here. You do understand don't you?' Jane didn't understand, but nodded as she finished putting on her coat.
'Mrs Foster…' The words wouldn't come to voice the confused questions that suddenly rolled around in Jane's head.
Mrs Foster put her hand on Jane's arm and smiled. 'Go on and see him Jane; I've delayed you, don't keep him waiting any longer.' Jane smiled and nodded and the two ladies left the room together. Mrs Foster hovered on the landing as Jane started downstairs. 'Jane?' Jane turned to look back up. 'Be careful dear.'
Will was waiting in hall as he had previously and turned towards her as he heard Jane's footsteps descending the stairs.
As he did so and Jane saw his face, she stopped. The mute questions sparked by Mrs Foster now found words in her head. Will winced and lowered his eyes.
'Sorry,' he said as Jane rushed down the last few stairs and touched his battered face.
'What happened? Why are you sorry?'
'I'm sorry to turn up looking like this.' He gently moved her hand away from his face.
'Oh goodness Will, don't be sorry. Just tell me what happened.'
'I came off the Sunbeam; into a ditch.' Will tried to smile and then winced again. His eyes moved away from Jane's as quickly as they met. 'Anyway, there's no real harm done. Just a few cuts and bruises and a scratch or two on the petrol tank.' Jane was still horrified, looking at the fresh bruises on his face and the raw crimson of the grazes along his jawline. 'Really Jane, I'm fine.' Now he looked at her in reassurance. 'It looks worse than it is I promise. Come on,' he glanced back up the stairs 'let's go.' Taking Jane's arm he led her out into the dark evening. 'There's a dance at the Medway a couple of streets away. Would you like to go?'
Jane looked down at her tidy but pre-loved dress. 'I'm not really dressed for it I'm afraid.'
'Nonsense, you look a picture. Come on.'
The evening skipped along in a flurry of music, as Jane and Will danced gently and chatted. Will brushed into insignificance all mention of his accident and resulting injuries, but Jane noticed his sometimes restrained movements and the occasional grimace as an unseen pain caught him. No-one else seemed to take much notice of Will's battered face so Jane tried her best to follow suit, at least in front of Will. When he wasn't looking it was a different story as Jane took in every mark on his face and every pained movement that he thought she didn't see.
When the air raid siren sounded Will was quick to usher Jane from the Medway and down into the nearest underground shelter swapping the fresh cold air of the street for the close, almost smoky, smell of the station. The rush and tumble of weeks before was largely replaced with a more calm approach. Although people were mostly quick to find shelter when the familiar siren called, there was a more composed and less frantic approach. Despite the sound being one that everyone sadly knew well, the sudden starting of the wail always brought dread even if its well-known calling was no longer answered by so many with an urgent rush. As Jane and Will descended the stairs towards the corridors and station platform, they saw many for whom this was like a second home. People came armed with flasks and gas masks, blankets and food, and carrying small children who in turn clutched teddy bears and dolls. They were accustomed now to the nightly outing.
'Come on, this way,' Will urged as he led Jane though the people as best he could. They stopped by a wall where there was room to sit. Will took off his jacket and wrapped it round Jane's shoulders then lay his scarf on the floor for her to sit on. 'Here. It'll be cold on the floor.' He looked around. 'I'll see if there's a chance of a cuppa anywhere.' He put his hands on her shoulders. 'Don't go away.' Jane didn't get chance for response before Will was gone, disappearing amongst the milling crowds.
Jane watched the hordes of people around her who sought sanctuary as she did each time the siren sounded and she thought of her friends, wondering where they were now and searching faces just in case.
It was likely that, wherever she was, Florence would flutter her long lashes and find men eager to assist her in finding a place to sit or a cup of tea to warm her. If Aggie was with her, Florence would ensure that her friend's safety and comfort came hand in hand with her own. Dorothy was always organised and efficient; she probably had her air raid bag with her - it was now always close to hand and containing items she felt essential for a stint in a shelter; small blanket, flask of water (refreshed daily), biscuits, book, modest supply of first aid essentials, torch, whistle. She'd put together the bag after they'd lost Alderney Street; if Jane had had a whistle and a torch her rescue would no doubt have come sooner was Dorothy's comment. She gave a sage forewarning to be prepared for the worst, meant for all the girls to heed. They'd all readily agreed but Dorothy and Jane were the only ones to act so diligently upon the words.
Jane felt a chill run through her as she leaned back against the tiles of the station but couldn't be sure whether it was the memories or the cold that made her shiver in the subterranean shelter. She pulled Will's coat more tightly around her and slid her hands into the pockets. Her fingers touched something cold and she pulled out the contents of the right pocket. Some loose change and a key. She put the coins back but turned the key over in her hand. It looked like a hotel room key but with a plain rectangular metal tag attached, instead of one carrying a number as you would expect. It looked very much like the keys at the Grandchester, but Jane reasoned that all hotel keys probably looked similar. Maybe the Grandchester wasn't the only hotel who had the curled top of each room key coloured silver; Jane had previously assumed that this was an eccentric quirk of the hotel, but clearly it wasn't so rare. Anyway, the Grandchester had an oval tag attached to their keys with the hotel name emblazoned on it along with the room number. She put the items back in the pocket but, without thinking, felt around inside the left pocket too. She knew that she was looking for the Grandchester tag. It wasn't there.
She touched the breast pocket to hear paper. As she wrestled with the temptation of delving further into Will's coat, guilt overwhelmed her and she withdrew her hands from its warmth. It wasn't long before Will, smiling, appeared weaving through the crowds to proudly offer her a steaming mug of tea.
'What would we do without the WVS and the Red Cross?' he smiled. 'They do a sterling job; never far away in a crisis.'
'Absolutely.' Jane sipped the tea carefully, her fingertips itching to turn the key over again as if touching it might explain it.
Will put his cup on the floor then slid down the wall to sit next to Jane. He nodded towards the crowds. 'It's filling up but there's nothing much doing outside at the moment. Let's hope it stays that way.'
Somewhere inside the station a baby cried, children laughed and a small group of people were singing. Two children dashed past, chasing each other through an imaginary game.
'Will, I meant to ask earlier…' Jane wanted to ask about the key but didn't; it was just a key. 'When you telephoned me, was it after the accident?'
Will seemed to hesitate 'Uh, no. No, it was before. I telephoned before.'
'There seemed some commotion at your end when we spoke. What happened?'
'I don't know, I think we got cut off,' was all he said. Jane didn't respond as her mind found suspicion and her fingertips once again found the edges of the key.
When the crowds tumbled out once more into the world above, they looked round with trepidation wondering what they might find. As people dispersed, homeward bound, to see what damage was done and which buildings stood firm, Jane a
nd Will stepped onto the street. Activity surrounded them, but the previous night's bombardment seemed to have been centred on a different part of the city and they walked along streets that remained unchanged from when they'd last seen them.
They'd slept fitfully underground, Jane with her troubled head against Will's shoulder and Will leaning back against the wall. The morning brought optimism with its light, despite the tired eyes that greeted it. Jane looked at her watch, which Will noticed.
'Not much time before you start work is it?' he asked.
'Sadly not. I could quite happily crawl into bed for an hour or two.'
'Did my shoulder not pass muster young lady?' Will feigned distress as he grasped his chest. 'I'm hurt. I'm offended to the core.' He staggered against the wall and Jane looked around to see who might be watching the faux drama.
'Will, stop it. People will think you're really hurt, especially with your face like it is.' Will stopped his act and stood straight.
'Sorry. Bad taste I suppose.' They continued to walk towards Jane's new home, commenting on the thankful lack of fresh damage around them but knowing that other areas had experienced the wrath of war instead. They reached Mrs Foster's front door and Jane handed Will his jacket.
'Thank you for that.'
'You're welcome.' He slipped the jacket back on as Jane located her front door key and turned it in the lock. 'I'm in rehearsal most of today and then I'm working tonight.'
'Can you work then, looking like that?'
'I told you, it's nothing much; it's more visual than debilitating. But a dab or two and this'll soon be covered up.' He touched his own jaw, but Jane could see that he did so carefully. 'They're trying out an evening performance to see how the box office does. Fingers crossed the Germans don't decide to come too. Can you come along? Show starts at seven thirty.'
'I'll do my best.'
Will took her reply as a yes. 'Great. See you tonight.' He leaned forward and, taking Jane completely by surprise, he kissed her. When she was released from his arms he hopped down the two steps to the pavement, waved and was gone; he looked once again like someone else as he walked up the road. He turned at the end of the street and called back, cupping his hands round his mouth to aid the travelling words 'I have a surprise for you later! Don't be late.'
Frank, subdued, greeted the now familiar person at the stage door and let her in. Jane had become a regular guest backstage during the weeks since her first nervous visit and comfortably weaved through the activity and bustle to find a spot in the wings, where she waited. She didn't see Will as she waited for the performance to begin, but that wasn't unusual; most of the time he didn't appear by her side until the interval or, occasionally, after the final curtain call. However, one of the chorus girls did appear at Jane's shoulder. She whispered quickly into Jane's ear then took her hand and guided her through areas of the theatre she didn't know, until they came to a dressing room. Inside there were numerous dressing tables and mirrors, with wigs, make-up, hats and other small items littering the tables and hanging from mirrors. Costumes hung around the room and there was the scent of make-up, perfume and powder in the air.
As Jane entered, she saw Will sitting at one of the dressing tables staring at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes vacant to the real world and seeing something in his mind that Jane couldn't. The dancer retreated and discreetly closed the door behind her. As Jane approached, Will turned his head so slowly it was almost sinister. She held her breath for a moment before speaking.
'Will. What is it?' Jane stopped behind him and he turned away to look at her through the distance of the mirror. They looked at each other in the glass. Jane searched for new wounds but only saw the traces of his previous injuries underneath the strong stage make up, invisible to an audience but detectable here.
'Harry was coming tonight; he was coming to meet you.' Jane was engulfed by a chill. 'He was home on leave, or supposed to be.' Jane feared the words to follow. 'But Jack telephoned. They had a telegram today. It came today.' There was nothing more to be said and Jane let her arms and her tears speak for her. She hadn't known Harry, but she knew his family after all the visits to the farm and she knew the friend he'd been to Will and the son and brother he'd been. She'd heard anecdotes of their past antics and couldn't help but share the excitement that emanated from Will when he'd talked of seeing his dearest friend again the next time he was home.
The surprise that Will had happily planned, the meeting of two people of great importance to him, would never happen.
A soft rapping on the door a short time later told them that Will had five minutes before he was due on stage. The large man who gently opened the door a crack asked if Will was 'alright to go on' and Will cleared his throat and answered yes to the man's obvious relief. Will quickly wiped his eyes, kissed Jane's hands and stood up.
As Will left the stage at the end of the show, his fellow actors and the backstage crew turned their usual post show back slaps and congratulations to handshakes, shoulder pats and condolences. Will changed quickly, unable to make eye contact with anyone as he acknowledged their kind words with a mute nod and all the while searching instead for Jane with his pained eyes. Once she was by his side again he took her hand and they left the theatre, walking into the night without a word to crack the air between them.
Jane waited for Will to speak first.
'Missing in Action,' came the words as they eventually stopped by the river. Jane squeezed Will's hand.
'Then there's hope, Will.'
'No. He's gone Jane. We all know he's gone.'
'How are Maggie, Jack and the children?'
'As you'd expect; broken but brave. I need to go and see them.' Will sighed, wrecked and tired by his grief. When he next spoke it was as if the words were real to him for the first time, like he only now absorbed their meaning. 'He won't be back Jane. He won't ever come home.' Jane was quiet. 'What will Maggie and Jack do?'
'We'll look after them. We'll look after them all for him.'
The pair strolled on in silence, with Jane praying the siren wouldn't sound yet and disturb Will's contemplation. Finally, it was Will and not an air raid that intruded on the quiet.
'I'll look after them Jane, don't worry. I've been thinking about this all afternoon since Jack called. I can't be there to work the farm full time, but some money would help them. When the war's over, they'll need to take people on. You know about Harry and there was another chap, Jim, but both left to join up. Jim was sent home minus his legs.' Jane gasped and Will squeezed her hand. 'And now Harry's gone too. It's really hard for Jack and Daniel; there's so much to do and they only just manage. But knowing it was short term, that there would at least be three of them again one day, made it seem easier. They really need to take on help now, maybe get one of the girls from the WLA.' They stopped to sit on a wall. 'I need to take over where Harry left off, even if I'm helping in a different way. They'll turn down financial help of course, but I'll get round that somehow. I can see my call up looming so I need to do what I can now, before I'm sent off somewhere; even if they just sit on the money until they need it most. A girl from the land army would be a great help to them, but that's relatively short term. Cash can do so many things for them.' Jane nodded when he looked to her, not sure whether he was seeking sanction or just understanding. 'I know that nothing, no-one, will ever fill the Harry shaped hole they have in their souls. If I can't be about to offer practical help now and then, I'll at least help some other way. It's not much but it's something.'
'You do more than you think Will. You're part of their family, that's very clear.'
'But now the family's broken Jane and a piece will always be missing.'
Jane didn't know what to say in response, knowing it was true, so again she said nothing hoping that her company was as important as her words.
Will walked Jane home, kissed her goodnight then said he was off to collect the Sunbeam and ride to the farm. Although Jane felt it was too late to be riding over there
that night, she again stayed silent. Her words would be weightless tonight, like a baby's breath on a dandelion clock.
'I'm sorry to rush off Sunshine. But I have to go.'
'I know.' Jane smiled gently and squeezed Will's hand. 'Tell them all I'm thinking of them.'
'I will.'
'And I'm thinking of you.'
'I know.' Will smiled for the first time that evening.
In Will's absence Jane felt a little lost. There was no understudy for his role with Jane as there was with his role at the Majesty but he did manage to telephone Jane at the Grandchester every single day he was away; just a quick exchange to check her safety. Jane knew he saw the fire in the clouds over the city and heard the sounds of death being dropped from the sky. Jane offered the same reassurance to him that she presented to her mother, although she knew that this would not give Will the comfort that she hoped it gave her worried parent. Her mother closed her eyes to news of the devastation and told herself she believed her daughter's comforting words, Will knew what it was like when the bombs came and that no family was immune to the horror; her mother prayed she'd soon welcome her daughter's arrival in Somerset, Will knew that Jane had no intention of running away.
It was during one of Will's brief telephone calls that Jane's eyes came to rest on an empty hook.
All the hotel's room keys had a numbered hook on a large polished wooden board on the wall behind the front desk. If a room was unoccupied its hook held three room keys.
On checking in, a guest would be given their key. Should they request it, for example in the event of a couple occupying a room, they could have two keys. The third key, a spare, was kept on the hook. The 'hook key' was only used by staff in the event of an emergency and was immediately returned to the hook. The staff wondered whether their private phrase of 'they're off the hook' when letting a locked-out guest back into their room had been leaked and was indeed the origin of the expression. Cleaning and maintenance was done by utilising a separate set of master keys, carefully looked after by the housekeeper, her staff of chambermaids and the hotel handyman, so the absence of any hook key was a very temporary situation. A hook key was only ever missing for as long as it took an employee to reach the room in question, unlock the door and return the key to the front desk.
Sunshine Spirit Page 6
