by Tania Crosse
Cissie twisted her neck to gaze up at him. ‘No, I’d like that very much. I’ve only heard you play a couple of times, and it was super. I love any sort of music.’
While Jake popped inside again, Cissie turned her attention back to the street that already felt like home. Ellen Hayes was coming back with little Lily who was pushing a toy pram. She waved cheerily across at Cissie.
‘Been to the park, Mrs Hayes? Lovely day for it.’
‘Yes, it is. We’re coming over to join the party a bit later. Eva asked us.’
‘I think she’s invited the whole street!’ Cissie laughed back, and watched as Mrs Hayes helped her daughter lift the doll’s pram up the steps to their front door.
‘Nice lady, Mrs Hayes,’ Jake commented, reappearing behind Cissie with his guitar and lowering himself down beside her.
‘Yes. My mum’s become good friends with her, too. It’s so good to have such nice neighbours.’
Jake paused for a second or two as he tuned the strings on his guitar. He might have been wrong, but he thought he’d caught a hint of bitterness in Cissie’s voice. But then, so many of her former neighbours had died when the V1 had fallen on Islington that she’d be bound to feel angry about it for the rest of her life, so it was no wonder really.
Beside him, Cissie was determined to bury her rancour, though it was caused by something entirely different from what Jake had imagined. But that was all in the past, she told herself. She had a new home now. A new future, with new friends like the Parkers, especially Jake and Mildred. Above all, she was back dancing, performing on stage where her soul belonged.
Jake had started playing, strumming gently on his guitar. It was a beautiful instrument with a mellow tone, and Cissie admired the dexterity of his long, artistic fingers. It wasn’t often she had the opportunity to study the small orchestra of the Romaine Theatre Company, but when she did, she was always enthralled and fascinated by their talent. She couldn’t imagine knowing exactly where to hold down the strings with each finger. It was a mystery to her. All she knew was that the music penetrated her inner being, soaked into her mind, overwhelming her soul until every muscle itched to dance, to translate into movement whatever emotion the melody inspired in her heart.
Listening to Jake crooning softly beside her, it was impossible for her imagination to keep still. Behind her closed eyes was the image of a dancer interpreting every note. Jake was a talented musician, but his voice was even better, soft, lyrical, full of expression. Not just singing, but performing, making each note mean something. Touching her heart.
Now he was singing ‘When You Wish upon a Star’, his voice low, like velvet. Cissie’s head was swinging to the slow rhythm, calm, relaxed, excited, all at once. It was all so harmonious, sitting there in the quiet afternoon sunshine, that when Jake came to the end and moved seamlessly on to ‘Summertime’ from Gershwin’s musical, Porgy and Bess, Cissie was helplessly overcome. She found herself on her feet, swaying to the mesmerising melody. Her dancer’s spirit was captivated, entranced, as her arms began to stretch and float, forming shapes in the warm, golden air, her long neck bending like a weeping willow waving in the breeze. Her feet trailed behind the swooping of her body that rippled and flowed, enraptured by every rise and fall of the music until Jake lifted his voice to the final crescendo and faded the tune to an enchanting, tender close.
Cissie was holding a finishing pose in attitude grecque and slowly drew herself from the bewitching dream. She glanced round, suddenly embarrassed, heat raging into her flushed cheeks. But the children were still playing hopscotch and nobody had been watching her dancing in the street. Except Jake, whose eyes were studying her, unblinking and intense.
‘That was beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘I can’t wait to see you performing on stage.’
Cissie gulped hard. ‘You’re pretty good yourself. Maybe you ought to audition for a slot in our new show.’
Jake gave a nervous laugh as he stood up and lifted the guitar strap from over his shoulder. ‘No. That sort of life wouldn’t do for me. I just enjoy playing for myself and my friends, and my monthly stint at the pub. It’s unusual to have anything other than someone thumping out a tune on a pub piano, so I get a bit of a kick from that. But as for a career, I don’t think so. I’d rather see if Rob comes up with anything at the bank.’
Cissie smiled and nodded, awkwardness still niggling at her. The sooner she went back inside and rejoined the party, the better. But as she stepped past Jake, she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. She turned back, saw the depth of emotion in his eyes, his head moving towards her, his lips soft and sensuous.
Panic flared through her like a fire storm. She turned away, pulse exploding at her temples, and had to stop herself stumbling as she stepped briskly across the pavement.
*
‘Ah, there you are. Any objection if I join you?’
Mildred was sitting on a bench outside the canteen. Heavy, thunderous rain had fallen the previous day, cooling the high temperatures of the last couple of weeks. Now the sun shone fitfully from a blue sky punctuated by plump, grey clouds, and Mildred was enjoying its intermittent warmth before she went back to work.
She lifted her gaze to Oscar’s tall, lean figure, casually drawing on her cigarette and blowing out the smoke through pursed lips before she replied. ‘You got as much right as me to sit here,’ she shrugged.
‘Thanks,’ Oscar answered, his voice tinged with sarcasm. ‘I wouldn’t ask, only there’s nowhere else to sit outside, and it’d be nice to get some fresh air before we get back to work.’
Mildred shifted slightly as Oscar sat down beside her. She’d learnt to tolerate him over the month or so they’d been teamed up together. He was a good driver, and considerate, too, always waiting if he saw someone running for the bus stop. Perhaps they’d just got off on the wrong foot.
Nevertheless, there were a few awkward moments while Oscar lit up his own cigarette. ‘What d’you think of the election results, then?’ he asked at length, as if wanting to break the silence.
Ah, the results of the election. The only thing anyone was talking about that day. The completely unpredicted landslide victory for Labour who’d hardly ever been in power and then only with a minority government.
‘Unbelievable,’ Mildred bristled back, since the unexpected outcome had indeed come as an unwelcome shock to her. ‘We wait three flaming weeks just to learn that Churchill’s been forced out. And after he won the war for us.’
Oscar arched an eyebrow. ‘Well, not quite personally,’ he interjected. ‘But maybe it is time for a change. People don’t want to go back to how things were under the Tories before the war. They’ve suffered so much hardship and now they want real progress, and they think they’ll have a better chance of that under Labour. All those things that’ve been discussed – a universal pension scheme, sickness benefit and even financial help with a second child – might have a better chance of coming about with a new, fresh government. And the idea of a national health service is amazing.’
‘Churchill would’ve given us all that, too,’ Mildred retorted.
‘I’m sure he would. But poor chap must be exhausted. Let’s give the new parliament a chance, eh?’
‘I suppose you voted for them—’
‘As it happens, no, I didn’t.’ Oscar’s tone was annoyingly calm and rational. ‘But we’ve got to accept it. It was done entirely democratically, after all. Especially delaying it those three weeks so that all personnel still serving abroad could cast their votes, too. People like your fiancé. Have you heard from him yet?’
‘Yeah, I have as a matter of fact. Most of it was censored out, though.’
She wasn’t going to tell Oscar, mind, that what was left could almost have come from a stranger. Gary had written that he loved her and was looking forward to coming home. But it was the way he’d put it. Factual, passionless.
‘You must be putting great store in this Potsdam Declaration, then,’ Oscar interrupted her thoughts, r
eferring to the recent ultimatum given to Japan jointly by America, Britain and China.
‘What, you think threatening the Japs with utter destruction like the world’s never seen before – or however they put it – if they don’t surrender straightaway is gonna make a blind bit of difference?’ she scoffed. ‘The Japs’ll fight on to the bitter end, and it’s probably just a bluff, anyway.’
Oscar pushed out his bottom lip. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. There’s huge amounts of hush-hush stuff going on with top scientists and engineers. Never know what they might come up with. Some massive bomb far greater even than the V2, maybe.’
‘And how would you know?’ Mildred scorned.
‘My father was a physics laboratory assistant,’ Oscar answered simply. ‘He didn’t talk a lot about his work, but he said there were incredible things going on. And that was some time before the war started. So nothing would surprise me. Think of the bouncing bomb. You wouldn’t have thought that was possible.’
‘So how come your dad was a scientist and you’re just a bus driver?’ Mildred demanded somewhat testily.
‘An assistant scientist,’ Oscar corrected her, and then he went on to explain, ‘My father was a clever man, but he lived on a different planet, almost. One that didn’t include practicalities like planning for the future. So when he died suddenly, I had to get a job pretty quick at a time when jobs were at a premium. I did whatever work I could find for a while. And then when I eventually ended up driving a bus, I found I rather liked it. So here I am back again. For now, anyway.’
Despite herself, Mildred realised she was being drawn into Oscar’s story. Besides, it was another quarter of an hour before their bus was due to leave the depot, and she didn’t fancy the idea of sitting there in silence for that long.
‘So, didn’t you have no job before your dad died?’ she asked vaguely, trying to hide her interest.
Beside her, Oscar shook his head. ‘No. I was in my first year studying engineering at university. I didn’t have enough qualifications or experience to get the sort of job I wanted, but I had to support my mother. And my little sister was only six at the time. There’s a big gap between us, you see.’
‘Couldn’t your mum go out to work, then?’ Mildred asked almost accusingly.
‘No.’ Oscar gave a rueful sigh. ‘She had rheumatic fever as a child and it left her with a weak heart. It was a wonder she survived two pregnancies, but the strain of having Georgie – Georgina, that is – virtually left her as an invalid. She can manage to keep house, but that’s about it.’
Flipping heck, Mildred thought, and she was sure she could feel those two little telltale spots of red embarrassment blooming on her cheeks. There she was, blaming Oscar for wanting his job back and giving him the cold shoulder, when he’d given up a dream career to support his mum and little sister. Maybe Mildred had misjudged him, and she felt overcome with guilt.
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said, aware that her tone had softened. ‘And what about your sister? How old’s she now?’
‘Sixteen. And before you ask, she’s still at school. She got a scholarship, and I wanted her to have the chance of a proper education until she’s eighteen at least. Maybe beyond, if she does well enough.’
‘When you had to give up education yourself.’ Mildred’s voice was almost hushed. ‘That’s very noble,’ she couldn’t help saying, though it made her feel even more embarrassed. ‘I hope she knows how lucky she is to have a brother like that.’
She heard Oscar give a short, awkward laugh, and was amazed how pleasing the sound was. ‘I didn’t see I had any choice,’ he told her. ‘Not when she was little. And then, when I got called up, my army pay was more than I was earning as a bus driver.’
‘Really? I’d have thought—’
‘I’m one of the few who can say the war did me a favour. Apart from sending me to places where I could’ve been blown to bits, of course,’ Oscar said wryly. ‘When I told them I knew a bit about engineering, they put me in the Royal Engineers. I managed to survive in one piece – well, just about – so now I’m hoping that with the engineering experience I gained in the army, I might be able to rescue my career, after all. As the country gets back on its feet, it’s going to need engineers.’
‘So your job back here driving buses is just a stopgap?’
‘Possibly. But keep it under your hat, please.’
His meaningful look caught her eye, and she felt a confusing tingle of excitement. Oscar Miles had trusted her enough to take her into his confidence, despite her initial hostility towards him. Blimey, he must like her, or recognise that she had good, steady common sense. And old-fashioned principles that wouldn’t allow her to betray him.
‘Yeah, course,’ she nodded. ‘But we can’t sit here all day. Time to get the bus on the road. Can’t keep our passengers waiting,’ she half joked with a tentative grin.
They had to go back inside to the office before the last leg of their shift, and Mildred knew she just had time to pop to the ladies’ before they set off again. But something made her glance fleetingly over her shoulder at Oscar’s retreating broad back. Yes, Freda was right. He was a fine-looking fellow, and there was more to him than initially caught the eye, too.
Perhaps Oscar Miles was OK, after all.
*
‘Hello, Mum, I’m home!’
The front door of Number Eight crashed open, and although Eva had been listening out, the resounding bang made her jump. Right from the cradle, Primrose had been the noisiest of Eva’s offspring, and six years of living with her chaotic eldest sister, Gert, and her three equally noisy boys, hadn’t improved her ways.
I must be getting old, Eva thought – briefly – to herself. But joy expanded in her chest like a balloon. Primrose, her baby, had come home for good, now that she’d just left school and the war was over so that there’d be no more bombs falling on London. It was the beginning of a new phase in Eva’s life – or perhaps a return to the past when her life had revolved around caring for her brood and making them feel loved and secure. It still did, of course, but much of her time during the war had been taken up with her work with the WVS, too.
‘Hello, sweetheart!’ Eva’s arms were opened wide, ready to hug her youngest daughter as she blundered in through the kitchen door, her rosy face glowing. ‘Had a good journey?’
‘Yeah, course,’ Primrose grinned as she launched herself into her mum’s embrace. ‘Trudy ain’t come with us, mind. Playing tennis with her posh school friends.’
‘Hello, Mum!’ Gert called, shouldering her way in through the door and dragging one eight-year-old son by the earlobe. ‘Told you not to tease your brother, didn’t I?’ she reprimanded. ‘Now go and give your granny a kiss.’
Whatever it was young Tim had done was entirely forgotten as the rest of the family filed into the kitchen, which was at once filled with laughter and happy voices. Gert’s husband, Rob, pushed his way in, suitcase in one hand and string bag in the other.
‘Don’t you think you’ll be needing these?’ he asked, pulling Primrose’s leg with a cheeky smile.
‘Oh, yeah. Sorry, Rob, forgot in all the excitement.’
‘So which room would madam like them in?’
‘Oh, you!’ Primrose laughed at her brother-in-law. ‘Presumably I’ll be back in with Milly, Mum?’
‘Well, the house ain’t grown, so, yes, you daft brush,’ Eva chuckled back. ‘Mill’s not too happy at having to share again. And you’ll have to remember to be quiet ’cos she’s on shifts.’
‘OK. I’ll take me things up, then,’ Primrose answered and, taking her luggage from Rob, lugged them back out into the hallway and up the stairs.
‘Fat chance of that, her being quiet,’ Gert grimaced. ‘Worse than my three put together. Why don’t you lot go out in the yard and knock Jake’s old football around for a bit? Phew!’ she sighed, slumping down on one of the kitchen chairs as the boys charged outside. ‘An hour in the back of the car and they’re
like jack-in-the-boxes. Maybe we should’ve come by train, after all. But now us civilians are allowed a little bit of petrol again, even if it is rationed, it made it more of an occasion to get the car on the road again. But what I’m going to do with the boys now the school holidays have started, I really don’t know.’
‘Gonna have your hands full, that’s for sure!’ Eva sympathised. ‘Got that rec round the corner, ain’t you?’
‘Yeah, but they can’t spend the entire holiday there. And I’ve got work for them to do in the garden. Still got to grow a lot of our own veg. Rationing’s not gone by a long chalk.’
‘Well, at least I can make you a cuppa after the drive. Do sit down, Rob. Making the place look untidy.’ Eva winked at her son-in-law, considering for the umpteenth time that Gert had been so lucky to have won his heart.
‘Dad and Jake not back from work yet?’ Gert asked.
‘No, but they won’t be long,’ Eva called from the scullery, where she was putting the kettle on the gas. ‘Still same hours as when you used to work there.’
‘Well, I might have some news for Jake that’ll mean he won’t have to work on Saturday mornings again,’ Rob put in. ‘I’ve only been back at the bank a week, but I’m definitely going to have Mr Breakwell’s job when he retires next month, and there’s going to be a lot of changes. I’ve talked to my superiors about Jake and they’re very interested in him. He’d have to start at the bottom and work his way up, but there’s going to be plenty of opportunity for an intelligent young chap like him.’
‘Well, that’s good news,’ Eva said, coming back in. ‘It’s what he needs to take his mind off not being able to get into the fire brigade. And off a certain young lady who’s caught his eye.’
‘What, that dancer girl?’ Gert raised her eyebrows in questioning. ‘Cissie, ain’t she? Well, I’m not surprised. Pretty kid.’
‘Yeah. But the only time they can see each other is Sundays. And though they seem to get on really well, I reckon she’s too tied up with her dancing.’
