Rose studied the pavement as she walked along. ‘It’s a shame. I know we don’t know everything that went on before but he seems to have put it all behind him now.’ Rose looked across at Annie. ‘He’s even talking about painting his son’s bedroom, so that means the shrine will also disappear.’
Annie sucked in the cold air. ‘The scars will still be there though. I don’t know how you get over such a loss.’ She stopped to examine the many different items that could be seen through the pawnshop window. ‘Look, I’ve never been in one of these shops but it looks like you can buy anything in there.’
Rose followed Annie and stared wide-eyed. ‘There seems to be everything from musical instruments to diamond rings.’
‘There’s some beautiful ornaments in there. They look expensive, a bit like Dot’s.’ Annie frowned as she leant in for a closer look. ‘I wonder what stories they could tell, maybe of promises of weddings or learning to play an instrument.’
Rose nodded. ‘It could be down to just needing the money.’ She paused as she studied some of the things in the window. She sighed. ‘You’d have a field day in there, making up your stories for everything.’
Annie nodded. ‘It’s quite sad though don’t you think? It’s like a shop of broken dreams.’
‘Morning, Annie.’ Peter’s gravelly voice carried over the sellers shouting about their wares. ‘Rose.’
‘Morning,’ the girls turned and called out in unison.
Rose could feel heat rising up her neck. ‘I’ll leave you to talk to Peter. I’m going to see my bicycle man.’
Annie hugged her friend, all thoughts of the pawnshop forgotten. ‘I hope it goes well with Charlie. Don’t rush – I’ll see you at the theatre.’ She pulled back chuckling, letting her hands fall to her sides. ‘Don’t forget we are back at The Lyceum now with The Royal Divorce.’
‘Oh yes, thanks for reminding me. I probably would have gone to The Lyric if you hadn’t.’ Rose giggled. ‘If I remember rightly it’s about Napoleon and Josephine isn’t it?’
‘That’s right, so very different costumes for this one.’
Rose looked thoughtful for a moment before she shrugged and smiled. ‘Well, it’s good to have a change.’ She gave Annie a last hug. ‘I’ll see you later. Wish me luck.’
Annie chuckled. ‘If the way he looked at you is anything to go by you don’t need luck.’
Doubt flitted across Rose’s face.
Annie ran her gloved hand down Rose’s arm. ‘Have faith, you’ll be fine.’
Rose nodded. She slowly turned away to walk up the road.
Annie frowned; she had never seen Rose so unsure of herself before.
‘Is everything all right?’
Annie jumped. The now familiar earthy smells were caught in the air around her. She peered over her shoulder at Peter’s worried face. His brows drew together while his eyes followed Rose. ‘Yes, Rose is going to see Charlie Young, at the bicycle shop in Great White Lion Street.’
‘But I’m here.’
Annie jerked round to see Charlie standing next to Peter. Her eyes wide she spun back again and yelled at the top of her voice. ‘Rose, Rose…’
Rose glanced over her shoulder and saw Annie waving her to go back.
Annie turned to the two men. ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t very ladylike. I can already hear my mother telling me off for such behaviour.’
Peter chuckled. ‘Well, it was certainly loud. I suppose that’s practising to be heard on the stage.’
Annie blushed. ‘Sorry.’ She peered back over her shoulder to see Rose almost within touching distance.
Peter nodded, while pulling at the edges of his woollen hat, tugging it further over his ears. ‘Listen, I’ve been thinking yer shouldn’t live in London and not visit at least some of the sights it ’as to offer.’ He paused. ‘Like Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey and St Paul’s Cathedral.’ A smile slowly spread over his face. ‘There’s different street markets we could go to or maybe we could really push the boat out and have afternoon tea at The Ritz Hotel with the posh folk.’
Annie shook her head. ‘That sounds expensive.’ She peered over her shoulder. ‘Rose, Charlie is here.’ She stood aside.
Rose’s already rosy cheeks coloured a little bit more. ‘Hello, Charlie, I was just coming to see you.’
‘I was hoping after our meeting you would have popped in and had a cup of tea with me, maybe on your way to work or something.’ Charlie’s gentle voice stopped Rose in her tracks.
Heat rushed into Rose’s face, thawing her cheeks against the cold, wintry air. She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes. ‘I … I was going to come before today but—’
‘But you chickened out—’
‘No, yes, yes I did.’ Rose sighed, her breath rising in grey swirls and disappearing into the cold air.
Charlie watched embarrassment flit across Rose’s face. ‘There was no need. I’ve been looking out for you every day, which is why I’m now hanging around the market, hoping I don’t get arrested for loitering or something.’ He beamed. ‘Come on, let’s go and get out of the cold.’
Rose stood there for a moment unsure what to do.
Charlie took a step nearer to her and stretched his arm out in front of him. ‘Come on, you were coming to see me anyway, and if nothing else it will give us a break from the cold to have a hot drink.’
Rose looked at the handsome man’s outstretched hand for a second before stepping forward and lightly placing her gloved hand in his.
Charlie wrapped his fingers around hers and silently led her away.
Annie watched them both stroll into the growing crowd. ‘I think we’ve just witnessed the start of something wonderful.’
Peter took Annie’s hand in his as he watched them go. A sudden rush of jealousy ran through him as he squeezed her hand. ‘Love’s a wonderful thing with the right person; of that there’s no doubt.’
Annie stared up at him. ‘Are you all right? It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other properly.’
Peter gazed down at her. ‘I would like to spend some time, some proper time, with a beautiful woman, with my beautiful woman.’
Colour flooded Annie’s cheeks and her stomach did a somersault. ‘Do you have time for a coffee now?’
Peter frowned as he looked across at his nephew, Harry. He looked back at her with smouldering eyes. ‘I want to but I can’t go too far because it’s busy today.’
Annie was lost in his gaze. ‘I’ve missed you.’
Peter pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. He lowered his head and gently brushed his lips against hers.
Annie’s heart pounded in her chest, her stomach somersaulted, and she didn’t want it to end.
There was a crash as boxes and metal hit the ground. Peter pulled back, gazing at Annie before slowly looking over his shoulder. ‘I don’t want to leave you but I need to get back, before everything ends up battered and bruised.’
Annie forced a smile. ‘Don’t worry, you go. I’ll buy you both a hot drink and bring it over to the barrow and we can talk in between customers.’
‘No, please don’t worry.’ Peter glanced over at his barrow and the queue of customers that was beginning to snake beyond his stall. ‘I had better get back to work.’ He gazed down at her, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her again. He gently squeezed her arm before looking back at his barrow. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.’
Annie nodded. Disappointment washed over her. She forced herself to smile before standing on tiptoes and planting a light kiss on his cheek. ‘Of course; don’t let me hold you up. Go on, I don’t want you losing customers.’ She watched him walk towards his barrow and smile at the old lady waiting to be served.
Peter stopped and looked across at Annie. He smiled and yelled over to her, ‘Maybe I’ll just save The Ritz for a special occasion then.’
The old lady, standing at the barrow, gave a toothless grin as she clapped Peter on the back.
Annie cou
ld feel her skin getting hotter but couldn’t resist laughing at him.
A woman called out as two boys chased each other in between the barrows.
Annie shook her head and quickly walked away, before she made a fool of herself. She didn’t look back as she weaved in and out of the barrows and the people mingling around them.
‘Get yer paper ’ere,’ a boy’s voice rang out.
Annie looked round as a dog barked behind her. Was that Peter’s dog? But she couldn’t see him. She sighed. Her morning had been planned out in her head and now she was at a loss about what to do.
*
Joyce stared hard at Barbara. She desperately wanted to like her and, in return, be liked but something was eating away at her and she didn’t know what it was. She had felt Barbara’s eyes boring into her back several times and when she turned round she had quickly looked away. Joyce forced a smile. ‘You’ve done well today, Barbara. Our regular customers seem to have taken to you.’
Barbara wrinkled her nose as the smell of fried food hung in the air; she pulled on her heavy winter coat. ‘It’s been lovely chatting as I served them, and to finally meet you. That brother of mine clearly thinks a lot of you.’
Joyce blushed. ‘That’s only because he likes that he can just leave me to get on with things.’
Barbara stopped what she was doing and eyed her for a moment. ‘Do you like working in the café? With Simon I mean?’
‘We work well together, so why wouldn’t I?’
‘No reason, I’m just asking. Simon’s a good man.’
Joyce smiled. ‘Of that there’s no doubt. Anyway, you’ve been a tremendous help today, thank you. It’s amazing the difference an extra pair of hands can make. Do you think you’ll come back tomorrow?’
‘Of course. I’ve enjoyed myself.’ Barbara carried on buttoning up her thick winter coat.
Joyce turned towards the sink and dropped the cloth she’d been using to wipe down the kitchen sides into it.
Barbara watched her for a moment. ‘Well, I best get home before Mother sends out a search party for me.’ She chuckled.
Joyce peered over her shoulder. ‘Why don’t you wait for Simon?’
‘I think he’s still got things to do. He’s sorting out the black material for the window and door, so I’ll see him when he gets home.’ Barbara pulled on her gloves. ‘Bye, I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Goodnight then and take care going home.’ Joyce waved as Barbara walked out of the kitchen, the door gliding shut behind her. Simon and Barbara’s muffled voices filtered through and Joyce was tempted to try and hear what they were saying but she twisted the tap on instead. The pipes rattled a couple of times before the cold water spluttered and gushed on to her other hand. The bell rang out above the café door and she knew Simon would be turning the key in the lock and turning the open sign to closed. She picked up the bar of carbolic soap and turned it over and over in her hands, letting the soapy lather build up. The bar dropped into the sink and she scrubbed at her hands vigorously. Her thoughts inevitably drifted to why Simon had suddenly decided to bring in his sister to work, and why he wanted her to know he couldn’t run the café without her. She shook her head. It was all nonsense; she was easily replaceable.
‘What are you shaking your head at?’
Simon’s voice made her jump but she didn’t look round at him. ‘If you must know I was wondering what was behind you bringing in your sister to help?’ Joyce picked up the bar of soap and placed it on a dish before rinsing her hands under the cold water.
‘She’s doing all right isn’t she? You have to give her a chance. There’s a lot to learn.’
Joyce reached for the towel to dry her hands but Simon stepped forward and handed it to her. ‘Thank you, I’m not complaining. I’m just surprised and wondering whether it’s connected to you being distracted these last few weeks.’
Simon frowned. ‘If you don’t have to rush off maybe we could have a cup of tea together.’
A band immediately tightened around Joyce’s chest but she forced a smile. ‘Of course. My uncle won’t mind waiting for his dinner. He’s not so demanding these days.’
Simon, wrung his hands together. ‘Excellent, I’ll put the kettle on then.’
‘What is it, Simon? Never mind the tea. I know something’s bothering you, and has been for weeks, probably months.’
Simon reached out and took her hand in his; his thumb gently rubbed the soft skin. ‘There’s not an easy way for me to tell you so I’m just going to say it.’
Joyce’s insides fluttered at his touch. She shook her head before frowning as she stepped closer to him. ‘Is it the café? Your mother? No it can’t be your mother, otherwise Barbara wouldn’t have been here today—’
‘Stop trying to guess and let me tell you.’ Simon gently shook her hand. Without a word he walked her into the café where they sat next to each other at a table for two. He squeezed her hand tight. ‘As I said there’s no easy way to say this so—’
‘For goodness’ sake, just say it.’
Simon stared down at their hands clasped together before looking up at her. All colour had drained from her face. Her eyes looked terrified. He sighed, wondering at the wisdom of his actions.
‘Simon, you’re scaring me. Whatever it is, please just put me out of my misery.’
‘I’ve signed up.’
Joyce’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Simon tightened his grip on her hand. ‘I don’t expect you to understand but I can’t take the looks and the comments anymore. I constantly feel guilty knowing my friends are risking their lives while I stay here and fry eggs. It haunts me day and night, to the point I can’t sleep.’ He paused. ‘If I’m honest I don’t want to go. I just feel that it’s my duty to.’ He hesitated. ‘I don’t want my children knowing I just cooked fried breakfasts throughout the war.’
Joyce’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked rapidly. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She shrugged. ‘I never thought you’d sign up, what with this place and your family.’ She shook her head and whispered, ‘Which is probably daft because lots of men have gone off to war and left their families and jobs behind.’
Simon gazed at her; he choked back his own tears at inflicting pain on the woman he adored. ‘I have a few days before I go off for training; maybe we could do something?’
Joyce nodded as she stared at their hands holding on to each other so tightly. ‘I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you’re going.’
Simon gave a hollow laugh. ‘No, nor me. It must have been a moment of madness.’ He hesitated. ‘I want you to take over running this place for me.’
Joyce’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. ‘I don’t think I can do that. I don’t know how to run a business.’
Simon gave a small smile. ‘You do it now; you just don’t realise it.’
Joyce closed her eyes for a moment, trying to digest what he was saying. Her eyes flew open. ‘What about your mother and sister? They’re family; I’m no one.’
Simon’s lips tightened as he let go of her hand and jumped up from the chair. He stood still for a second before pacing around the tables. He suddenly stopped dead and stared at Joyce. ‘You really have no idea do you?’
‘About what?’
Simon shook his head in disbelief. ‘How much you mean to me. You’re not no one. You will never be no one; in fact you’re everything. Nothing is important if you’re not sharing it with me.’
Joyce’s eyes widened. ‘I … I didn’t realise. I thought you just saw me as a friend.’
Simon tightened his lips. ‘I should have said something but, I suppose, I was afraid you didn’t feel the same. Those words sound so cowardly, but I didn’t want to spoil our friendship so I said nothing.’
Joyce’s heart was racing, pumping wildly in her ears. She took a couple of deep breaths. Stay calm. Stay calm. ‘Why are you saying something now?’
Simon lifted his
hand and ran the backs of his fingers down her soft cheek. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ He paused, staring at her. ‘I don’t want to go away without you knowing how much I love you and that you are everything to me. You’re the only reason I keep this café open. It has nothing to do with my father.’
Joyce shook her head. ‘What? I don’t understand.’
Simon lowered his head before looking up with love shining from his eyes. ‘By keeping the café open it has meant I have seen you every day. There, it’s out.’
Joyce frowned. ‘But … I thought you were keeping your father’s dream alive.’
Simon gave her a shameful look. ‘I am but that hasn’t been the only reason. It’s what started it but it’s not why I’m still here cooking breakfasts most of the day.’
Joyce lowered her eyes, staring hard at the wooden tabletop. ‘I had no idea.’
‘No, please don’t hate me for it. I just wanted you to understand how much you mean to me.’
Joyce looked up and smiled. ‘I don’t hate you, Simon. I could never do that … I’m just shocked.’
Simon lifted her hands, before lowering his head to gently leave kisses as light as butterflies on them. ‘Please don’t walk away from me or this café.’
Joyce’s heart lurched. Tears pricked at her eyes. ‘No one could love you more than I do, Simon.’ Her tears rolled silently down her cheeks. ‘I could never do that. I will try to keep it going until you return.’
Simon gently shook her hand. ‘I know you will. I trust you implicitly.’ He lifted his hand and, using his thumb, he tenderly wiped away her tears before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in close. ‘I shall tell my family that you are running the place and ask them to give you their support. I have also given my mother some extra money should you need it for rent or anything.’ He slowly pulled away.
Joyce remained silent as she gazed up at the man she had loved for so long.
Simon hesitantly lowered his head to taste the sweetness of her lips.
5
Ted stared incredulously at the man who sat in front of him, a desk separating them, letting him know this was business and not friendship. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from the boy he grew up with. The boy who became the man who now spoke on his mother’s behalf. ‘I don’t think you understand how serious this matter is.’
Big Dreams for the West End Girls Page 7