‘No!’
She spread her hands wide. ‘Still, darling, this is all quite sudden. Give me one good reason why I should marry you.’
There were a million and one lousy reasons – except being married was about the only thing he hadn’t tried. And this had to be fate – a gorgeous girl walks into a bar all ready to say ‘I do’ and the only thing she’s missing is the groom. He summoned the bartender with a lazy finger and ordered another whisky and a vodka tonic for her, as the dirty martini hadn’t been a great success. ‘Give me one good reason why not?’
She shook her head as the barman placed a fresh drink in front of her. ‘Where to start?’
‘It’ll be midnight in a few hours. I thought you were on a clock.’
She pouted a little, her gaze darting round for a more likely candidate. There wasn’t one. Only a couple of old men who’d been nursing a bottle of beer apiece for the last hour and a man in the far corner staring disconsolately at his empty glass like he’d just put his life savings on black and red had come up. Still, her eyes narrowed as she considered her options.
‘You don’t have to marry me,’ Leo said and he had her attention again. ‘But let’s have a little drink and a chat and see how we both feel about it in an hour or so. Deal?’
She picked up her glass and gave him another one of those smiles that made Leo want to find a puddle so he could drape his jacket over it for her. ‘Deal.’
2
September 1943
The two GIs took some convincing. ‘Why do you need to go to Rainbow Corner?’ one of them asked. ‘One of our guys done you wrong and you got your dad waiting in the wings with a shotgun?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ She stared up at him. He had olive skin and dark eyes, and at any other time she might have thought him quite dashing but not when she had the sneaking feeling he was mocking her as she stood there in her mother’s fur coat, with sturdy lace-ups and ankle socks, her vampy red lipstick all but chewed off now. Still, there was no reason for him to look at her as if he thought she was up to no good. ‘Oh! Oh! It’s absolutely nothing like that. It’s just, well… I’ve come all this way, from Durham… Do you know Durham?’
They both shook their heads and smiled at her indulgently as if she’d been brought downstairs to say goodnight to the grown-ups.
‘Of course you don’t know Durham because it’s the most pitiful, boring place in England and I… I… we got bombed out and now I have no family and no home and so I decided that if I had to be destitute then I might just as well be destitute in London and I saw Rainbow Corner on a newsreel and the announcer said that it never closed, that they’d thrown away the key to the front door so they were always open for anyone who needed a place to go.’
She was slightly ashamed at the fibs that tripped so readily from her mouth. But if someone didn’t know all the circumstances leading up to her flight from Durham, then it might show her in a very poor light. Certainly, the taller, ganglier GI with the shock of wheat-blond hair wouldn’t be looking quite so concerned.
‘You poor kid. That’s awful,’ he said, though she wasn’t a kid. As of two weeks ago, she was seventeen. ‘There’s no other family you could stay with?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I’m all on my own now.’ She sighed and imagined she must look very forlorn. ‘I’ll simply have to learn how to fend for myself.’
Meanwhile, his friend had a glint in his eye that she didn’t like. ‘You’d be better off finding the nearest YWCA than hotfooting it to Rainbow Corner.’
Her face fell. ‘But the YWCA will be too much C and not enough Y.’
This time they both laughed then the blond one said, ‘Come on, Danny. Been ages since we helped a damsel in distress.’
‘How old are you anyway?’ Danny asked.
‘Nineteen,’ she replied immediately, as if she didn’t have to think about it at all because she’d been nineteen for months and months, but he scoffed like he didn’t believe that either.
‘OK, we’ll take you to Rainbow Corner, but any more lies, then I’m going to start thinking you’re an enemy agent. Might take you to the nearest police station instead.’
‘Ignore him,’ the other one said as she huffed indignantly. ‘Got bawled out by our company commander last week. Been in a funk ever since. I’m Phillip, but everyone calls me Phil.’
‘I’m Rosem— Rose,’ she amended. He shot her a dazzling white smile and picked up her suitcase. Once they’d descended into the Underground, he paid for her ticket and found her a seat and didn’t even mind that her attention wavered between him and the brightly lit Tube carriage, the girl sitting opposite with a covetable, extravagant hat perched on her head, the grab handles swinging with the motion of the train, even the advertisements – so many new things to marvel at.
It would all have been thrilling if she could only stop looking at her watch and imagining what was happening back in Durham. By now, they would have read her note. Shirley would say something hateful like, ‘Even when she’s not here, she manages to make an absolute nuisance of herself!’ Mother had probably gone to bed with one of her heads and Father would have locked himself in his study. They’d also realise she’d taken the fur coat and borrowed Shirley’s black crêpe de Chine and her pale blue taffeta, which would just compound matters.
‘What’s the matter? You’re too pretty to look so sad.’
Rose blushed. No one had ever called her pretty before, though if she held her face a certain way and half-squinted, she thought she looked a little like Hedy Lamarr. Still, it didn’t do for people to think that you thought you were pretty. ‘That’s very kind but I’m not…’
‘You’d be even prettier if you smiled,’ Phil said, and she did smile then and he pretended he was about to faint though Danny grunted. Rose decided that it was best to ignore him.
The next station was Piccadilly Circus.
Simply walking up the steps that led from station to street was exhilarating. Of course, they’d turned off the lights and she couldn’t see Eros or the famous advertisement hoardings, but it took only seconds for the shapes and outlines in the murky night to shift into focus and become people hustling and bustling. Waiting for friends or sheltering in doorways as they lit cigarettes, queuing outside restaurants and nightclubs; there was an electric hum to their laughter and chatter.
The lemonade-fizz of anticipation made Rose’s fingers twitch and her toes curl in her lace-ups. It was as if everything that was good and glamorous had converged on this one spot, including the gaggle of girls, all primped and preened, who were gathered on a street corner. ‘Hey, GI, need someone to jive with?’ one of the girls called out as she caught sight of Phil and Danny.
‘Give you a kiss if you get me into Rainbow Corner,’ another girl promised, checking Rose with her hip so she stumbled but before Rose could raise her foot or employ a sharp elbow, Danny had her arm in a firm hold and guided her forward.
‘You and trouble are on first-name terms, aren’t you? Here’s some advice, kid: have your night on Uncle Sam, then go back home.’
‘But I told you already, I was bombed out. I don’t actually have a ho—’
‘Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the Marines,’ he drawled as he hauled her through the thickening crowd, their progress becoming a slow crawl. ‘Go home or end up like them.’
Rose followed his gaze to another group of girls standing on the opposite corner. They seemed harmless enough. Pretty, even, though there was a word for the sort of girl who hung about on street corners calling out to men she patently didn’t know. To think that she’d been accused of being fast for daring to attract the unwelcome attentions of fat Cedric, the bank manager’s son. ‘They don’t seem so bad. What’s wrong with them?’
‘The Piccadilly Commandos?’ he replied with a dry snicker that was a distant cousin to a laugh. ‘You’ll find out soon enough if you keep propositioning GIs at railway stations.’
‘Well, I like that! That not what I did!’
&nbs
p; ‘Cut it out, Danny,’ Phil said sharply as he pulled open a large glass-set door. ‘After you, ma’am.’
Rose had dreamt about this moment for so long, but now she was preoccupied with bickering with that hateful man, then squeezing past a noisy group of American soldiers on their way out, then suddenly here she was…
She’d left the drab, humdrum world behind – all that making-do and saving things for a best that never came. She’d lied and stolen and snatched herself away and accosted strange men to walk through a door and find herself in heaven on earth.
Rainbow Corner.
There was absolutely no point in having dreams if you didn’t do everything in your power to make them come true, Rose decided, as she gazed around her. Truthfully, she felt a little disappointed as she took in the huge foyer. There were the same official-looking signs pinned to the noticeboard in front of her that she saw everywhere she went. But there was also an arrow pointing east with BERLIN – 600 MILES inscribed on it. Another arrow pointing in the opposite direction that bore the words NEW YORK – 3271 MILES and an American flag hanging proudly from the balcony above, reached by a sweeping staircase. If Rose stood very still and tried to block out the sound of people talking and calling out to each other in that smooth easy way that Americans seemed to have, then she could hear the distant strains of a band playing something swingy and infectious. That was where she wanted to be…
‘Rosie?’
Phil tugged gently at her sleeve to pull her to the reception desk manned by two women in dark grey uniforms. She hung back as Phil and Danny signed in and asked if the rumours of hot showers were true. Rose could still hear the band; she swayed on the spot, one foot tapping out the rhythm, until she became aware of the two women looking at her quizzically.
‘Hello,’ she said in what she hoped was a confident voice. ‘I’m with them.’
‘Would you believe this is Phil’s kid sis come all the way from Des Moines?’ Danny treated both women to a look Rose couldn’t see but one of them, an officious-looking brunette, smiled.
‘I won’t be any trouble,’ Rose said. ‘Honestly, I won’t.’
The other woman, who looked even more officious, seemed unconvinced. ‘She sure has a funny accent for that part of the world,’ she said drily.
‘Yeah, she’s kind of pretentious.’ Rose hissed through tightly clenched teeth. How dare he? ‘She’s hoping to bag a duke while she’s here.’
Suddenly getting into Rainbow Corner didn’t seem nearly as important as punching Danny hard between his shoulder blades, but both women laughed. ‘I think there’s an earl playing billiards – best keep your sister away from him.’
‘Thank you. Thank you ever, ever so much. You won’t even know I’m here,’ Rose promised, as Phil led her away. She grinned up at him. ‘That was touch and go for a minute.’ She turned to Danny. ‘Thank you for your help,’ she added stiffly.
‘Don’t mention it, kid,’ he said, touching his cap in mock salute. ‘See you later.’
It was a relief when he shouldered his way past them. Phil was hoisting up his duffel bag too. Rose would be fine on her own because everyone said that the Yanks were very friendly and never stood on ceremony, and besides she was here under the protection of the American Red Cross so nothing bad would happen to her.
‘Well, it’s been very nice to meet you and thanks again,’ she said brightly but briskly. ‘I’m sure I’ll be perfectly all right now.’
‘It’s like that, is it,’ Phil said, his kind, open face closing off a little. ‘I thought we were becoming buddies.’
‘We were – we are. Really, you’ve been a brick, but you needn’t worry about me,’ Rose assured him with an airiness that she didn’t believe herself. ‘I’m sure you have lots of friends here you’d like to spend time with and I’d hate to cramp your style.’
‘More like you don’t want me to cramp your style,’ he said, shifting his bag. ‘Back home, we have a name for girls like you.’
‘I’m not trying to get rid of you. I’m helping you get rid of me,’ she explained. ‘So you’re free to, um, talk to other girls.’
He flushed bright red. ‘I’d rather talk to you,’ he said in a rush. ‘I’d rather spend the whole eighteen hours before I go back to base with you.’
‘You would?’
He nodded, a clumsy grin on his face. ‘Yeah, I would,’ he declared and he held out his arm so she could take it and led her up the stairs which, on closer inspection, weren’t as sweeping as Rose would have liked them to be.
They danced to a swing band on the huge dancefloor, both of them dazzled by the lights bouncing off the brass section and trying not to bump into anyone, because there had to be at least two hundred other couples moving in four-four time.
‘Have you ever jived?’ Phil asked.
‘Not really, but I want to more than anything,’ Rose said, but there wasn’t room to do much more than a fast foxtrot. Phil danced with her until her feet were sore and her throat was dry but when he ground to a halt and stood there panting, she didn’t want to stop. ‘Do let’s stay for one more dance,’ she begged but Phil laughed and shook his head.
‘I heard a rumour about this place,’ he said. ‘If it’s true, it’s even better than dancing.’
‘I can’t believe that anything’s better than dancing,’ Rose said as he took her hand and hurried out of the ballroom and down the stairs. ‘What is it?’
‘I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.’
‘I love surprises!’ In fact, Rose loved everything that had happened to her in Rainbow Corner. Even the contretemps in gaining entry, because those few fearful moments when she’d thought she was going to be tossed back to the cruel, unforgiving night made her appreciate being here all the more. ‘Shall I shut my eyes so the surprise is extra surprising?’
‘That’s a grand idea,’ Phil agreed and he was one of those people that you instinctively trusted and Rose knew that he’d lead her down the stairs and ensure that no one bumped into her. ‘Two more steps. Careful, Rosie. Then we just head down here and hey! Watch it, pal, lady coming through… you can open your eyes when I say… now!’
Rose didn’t open her eyes immediately because she wanted to let the anticipation build just a little while longer and then she couldn’t wait and she opened them and, ‘Oh my…’ She thought she might faint or burst into tears or some heady combination of both. ‘Goodness me, I must be dreaming.’
Like everywhere else in Rainbow Corner, the basement was packed to the rafters. There were people squeezed around small tables, more people crowded round the edges of the room, even lining the stairs as they clutched mugs and nodded along to the record playing on a jukebox and in the centre of the huge room was a soda fountain. A genuine soda fountain.
Phil visibly puffed with pride at her reaction. ‘We have one just like it in Des Moines. More than one.’
‘It’s absolutely beautiful,’ Rose gasped, and Phil chuckled as if she was joking but she’d never been more deadly serious in her whole life.
‘Hey! Let’s grab that table.’ Phil was already pushing her down onto a chair, which had suddenly become vacant.
Mindful that the money in her purse had to last until… golly, until she found a job, Rose decided to make do with a cup of tea and a bun. Surely that couldn’t cost more than a shilling?
‘What shall we have?’ Phil looked round for a waitress.
‘I’m really not that hungry,’ she lied. ‘I eat like a bird.’
‘You’ll be hungry once our food arrives, you’ll see,’ Phil promised. His hand closed over Rose’s as she reached for her bag. ‘What kind of guy dances with a girl for hours, then expects her to pay for her own chow? It’s my treat.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Rose murmured as the waitress approached.
Once the waitress left, Rose wasn’t sure what they were going to talk about. Boys never had much to say, though in her limited experience that never stopped them talking one’s ear off.
Phil fished for a packet of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his uniform. ‘Want one?’
‘Yes, please.’ She’d never smoked before but Rose let Phil light the cigarette for her then concentrated very hard on breathing the smoke out of the corner of her mouth in an insouciant fashion. How she longed to be insouciant! ‘So…’
‘You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen in England,’ Phil suddenly blurted out. ‘I’m not saying it so you’ll put out, it’s the truth.’
It was hard to be insouciant when you were blushing. The hand that was awkwardly holding the cigarette aloft started to nervously twirl a lock of hair until Rose heard a hissing sound before she even smelt the singeing. ‘Well, I don’t know if I’m that pretty,’ she said doubtfully. Also, she wasn’t entirely sure what putting out was or if she wanted to do it. ‘My hairbrush is in my suitcase and I’m sure I must look an absolute state.’
After the Last Dance Page 2