Chocolate Girls

by Annie Murray

  ‘Eh Rube, where d’you get those nylons from?’ Edie ribbed her.

  Ruby hoiked up her skirt and made a cheeky curtsey. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’

  Marleen, whose birthday had been the week before, was in a frilly little frock made of yellow and white gingham which looked very sweet with her blonde hair. Ruby seemed to have recovered enough to beam proudly at the sight of her daughter waddling about in her tiny shoes.

  They had just enough children to manage a few games in the front room: blind man’s buff, musical statues – Frances playing nursery rhymes on the piano – and an attempt at musical chairs which made Marleen roar with fury because she was too young to keep up and they had to abandon the attempt. Edie had done a ‘pin the tail on the donkey’ for them.

  ‘Not my best drawing ever!’ she laughed, looking at the donkey’s too-long ears and squiffy shape.

  The sandwiches, jelly and biscuits were all devoured, the tablecloth emblazoned with crumbs and runaway blobs of jelly. Then Edie carried the cake in with the candles lit. Davey’s expression as she laid it proudly on the table brought tears to her eyes.

  ‘Is that for me?’ he said in rapt wonder.

  ‘Of course – you’re the birthday boy,’ she said, kissing him.

  ‘But is it all for me?’ The adults laughed.

  ‘You might like to share it with your friends,’ Janet told him. ‘Or you’re going to be a poorly boy later on!’

  They sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and cut the cake, and then Ruby started saying she had to go.

  ‘Thing is, Edie,’ she whispered. ‘I said I’d meet Wally. So I’m sorry to rush off.’

  So that was why Ruby had got all dressed up, Edie thought. She was a bit hurt at her leaving Davey’s party before it was really over, but she smiled. ‘Off you go then. Mustn’t keep him waiting.’

  Ruby said goodbye to Frances, obviously hoping Frances would offer to keep Marleen for the evening. Frances responded warmly, but made no such offer. Marleen bawled inconsolably at being removed from the party before everyone else and had to be carried out kicking and flailing. Frances shook her head and gave a wry smile as the frenzied howling was muffled abruptly when the front door closed.

  ‘She really is the end.’

  Twenty-Six

  February 1944

  ‘Why don’t we go into town? Have a mooch round the shops?’

  Janet looked up, suddenly realizing Edie was speaking to her. She’d been staring out at the garden, miles away.

  ‘I know there’s not much to look at – but it’ll take your mind off it,’ Edie said.

  Frances looked up encouragingly from her knitting. ‘Good idea, Edie. You could both do with an afternoon out.’

  Janet knew her mother was worried about them both. Edie was wearing herself to a wafer trying to help her mother after work. Not that she seemed to appreciate it, from what Janet could gather. She didn’t feel like a trip into town, but Edie was right – she could do with something to distract her from the worry that nagged constantly at her. And it made a change from sitting indoors. She yawned and stretched. ‘All right. Sounds like a nice idea.’ The two of them went to get their coats and get David ready.

  All that week, Janet’s spirits had been at rock bottom. She hadn’t heard from Martin in months. It was impossible to know whether this was the fault of the erratic postal service, or his work keeping him too busy, or – the thoughts she tried desperately to banish – that something awful had happened to him or that his love had grown cold. The affectionate words at the end of his last letter back in November had long lost their impact and though she read and re-read the letter until it was tearing along the folds, it almost felt now as if it was from a stranger, not from the man she loved. But she kept telling herself it was the same for so many people, that she had to keep faith and one day she would see him again.

  They caught the bus to town, and took Davey into Lewis’s toy department.

  ‘Oh look!’ Edie cried, spotting a little wooden train that you could pull along the floor. ‘Isn’t that lovely! Oh – I can just about afford that – d’you think I should?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Janet smiled, watching Edie tenderly. She’s just as excited as he is! she thought. The painful memory came to her of coming into this same store that winter after she had miscarried. She had never felt much regret about it at the time – there had been too much relief at being saved from a hopeless situation. But occasionally, seeing Edie with David, she couldn’t help wondering, with a sense of loss, who that child might have been. Would she have felt the same besotted love that Edie did? Edie had been opening up more and more lately about her home life when she was growing up. Janet was appalled at the few things she had told them. One Christmas night, when she was nine, because of something naughty she’d done, Nellie had locked her out of the house for the night and she’d been forced to sleep in the freezing brewhouse. Janet felt herself tense with rage when she heard things about Nellie. Edie had at last told her why she had that burn mark on her arm. The woman sounded like a lunatic! No wonder Edie clung so passionately to David. With all she’d been through she deserved all the love and help they could give her.

  ‘Look, Davey!’ Edie was saying, her eyes shining as she showed him the little locomotive with its painted red wheels. ‘Oh, we’ll have some fun with this, won’t we?’

  David held out his arms for it, jumping with excitement.

  ‘He loves machines, doesn’t he?’ Janet said. ‘We’ll have to find you a proper train set when you’re a bit older. In fact – oh, Edie, I’ve just thought, Mum’s probably got Robert’s old set packed away somewhere. She never gets rid of anything! That would be perfect.’

  ‘D’you hear that, Davey?’ Edie guided him over to where they could pay. ‘Auntie Frances might have a whole set of choo-choo trains for you. You don’t think she’d mind?’ she added anxiously. Still, in her heart, she could never quite believe the extent of the Hattons’ kindness to her. Even the smallest things seemed incredible.

  ‘Don’t be silly – she’d love it. In fact I’m surprised she hasn’t suggested it herself.’

  They wandered round the town centre and the Bull Ring and it was getting dark when they headed for the bus stop. They were walking through the bustle of Corporation Street when Janet’s shoulder was jostled hard by a passer-by.

  ‘So sorry—’ He turned to apologize, and she found herself looking up into a handsome face, with black hair and boyish blue eyes. Familiar eyes: the eyes of Alec Storey. She felt a lurch of emotion, like a reflex. Both of them stopped, uncertain how to react.

  ‘Well,’ he said after a moment. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Oh, very well!’ Janet could hear a forced jollity in her voice. ‘This is my friend Edith – she and her little boy are living with us for the time being.’

  Edie sensed who the man was. ‘I’ll take Davey on home,’ she said. ‘Give you two a chance to catch up – if you want to?’

  Janet knew she ought just to turn and go. Alec was part of a painful past, and should remain so. But suddenly seeing him like this . . . It would be nice just to have a talk.

  ‘Are you,’ she looked around, ‘here with the family?’

  ‘No – not today.’ He seemed bashful talking in front of Edie. As he well ought to be, Janet thought. ‘I’ve time for a drink if you have.’

  Janet felt Edie watching them. ‘All right,’ she said, evenly. ‘Tell Mother . . .’ She couldn’t think what excuse to give.

  ‘I’ll just say you’re on your way,’ Edie said. ‘Come on, Davey, let’s go.’

  ‘So, what d’you fancy – tea or something stronger?’ Alec asked, a little too jovially.

  ‘Tea would suit me very well. Lewis’s tea room?’

  The street was crowded enough to make conversation difficult. Once they were seated at a table with tea on the way, Janet felt Alec examining her, sitting back in his chair with an appraising expression. She felt uncomfortable, as if he was looking f
or blemishes, or to see how much she had aged. He seemed older himself, in fact, since she had last seen him. His sleek hair was thinning on top. But he still had the little moustache, and his eyes were as large and persuasive as ever. It seemed such a short time, suddenly, since she last spent time with him. Last time, when she was carrying his child . . .

  ‘You look marvellous,’ he said softly. Already his tone was seductive.

  ‘Thank you.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her face, feeling as if he were undressing her with his eyes, and cursed herself for blushing.

  She asked after his family and he said they also had a daughter now, and that everyone was in good health.

  ‘A daughter?’ she found herself saying. ‘How nice.’ Yes, how nice, the perfect, tidy family. No complications. It had been her decision not to tell him about the baby, yet now she felt livid, boiling inside that he did not know of the consequences of his infidelity. She wanted to tell him, to rub his nose in it – yet she would not, would never let him know that she had been made that vulnerable by him.

  ‘How’s your mother?’ The old note of mockery in his voice. Knowing, superior. ‘Old girl still bearing up, is she?’

  Worth twenty of you, certainly. ‘Actually, she’s really splendid. The war’s made her come into her own. She’s taken in refugees – we’ve a girl called Marie from Guernsey living with us, though she’s leaving us to marry in the summer. And now Edie and her son – and Mummy looks after another child as well. She’s been a brick about it all. I’m full of admiration for her. After all—’ she knew there was a barbed tone to her voice. ‘Those of us who aren’t doing the real fighting have to do our bit.’

  ‘Touche,’ Alec said. For a second he even managed to appear vulnerable himself. ‘You needn’t think I need reminding that I’m having a soft war.’

  The pot of weak tea arrived and there was a pause as cups and jugs were arranged on the table. As soon as they were alone he leaned forward and held out his hand for her to put hers in, as she once would have done. Janet ignored him and busied herself stirring the contents of the teapot.

  ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.’ He managed to catch her hand and she could no longer resist. She looked into his eyes and saw them narrow with desire in the way she remembered. The way that always weakened her resolve. That power he had. She felt herself stir in response. ‘Remember that day at the beach?’ he murmured. The day I conceived the child, she thought. ‘Oh God, Janet – the number of times I’ve longed for you . . .’

  For a moment she was sucked in, almost hypnotized by him. If they had not been in a public place he might have drawn closer, kissed her and caught her at a weak moment. But she forced herself to her senses. Not this again! He was a user and she’d allowed herself to be used. But not any more! She was worth more than that – and she had Martin, her dear, loving Martin. She pulled her hand firmly away.

  ‘Alec – don’t. This is ridiculous. You can’t just waltz back into my life like this. And besides—’ She laid her hands in her lap and sat back. ‘I’m engaged.’

  Alec smiled regretfully, as if she had complained of suffering a headache. He offered her a cigarette. She refused it. Lighting up his own, he blew smoke towards the ceiling. ‘And where is he at this moment?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She looked down into her cup. ‘Out east somewhere.’

  ‘Well – I hope he comes back to you. Things over there are looking pretty grim. I don’t envy any of those chaps over there facing the Japs, I can tell you.’

  ‘He’s a doctor.’

  ‘Even so.’ He put his head on one side. ‘Look, Janet – I know you’re a straightforward sort of girl, strong morals and so on. But the war’s a long haul – it changes everything. I mean we’re in it for the duration and none of us knows how long that is. All the rest of our youth could disappear before it’s over – and for what? When your fiancé comes back – assuming he does – then of course you’ll marry and do the right thing. But until then . . .’ Once more he was leaning towards her. ‘I’d love to see you again, Janet. I’ve never met anyone like you – you’re so sultry, so exciting . . .’

  Once more she felt she was being undressed by his very words. Lured. And the temptation was strong. To have more in life than the factory and the chores of home in the dark nights, of waiting week after week aching for a letter. There was truth in what he said – they didn’t know when it would end, or if things would ever be normal again. For a moment all she wanted was the feel of a man’s arms round her, his desire for her, and hang everything else.

  ‘Alec—’ She sat back. ‘Can we change the subject? Please?’

  He laughed, seeing how much he had unsettled her, knowing his power over her.

  ‘All right. We’ll talk about our war work, and the weather and grumble about ration coupons and everything being grey – like everyone else. But remember – underneath we have so much more than that. We always had.’ For a moment he was whispering. ‘We used to have a wonderful time together. Chemistry they call it, don’t they? You know we did. And we still could, you know. You only have to say the word.’

  A few days later, Ruby was on the line in the wrapping department at Cadbury’s. She kept looking up at the clock. The afternoon couldn’t go fast enough so far as she was concerned. As the blue and red wrappers of the tuppenny Ration Chocolate Bars flashed past her, all she could think about was Wally. He’d be in Birmingham tonight.

  Things had progressed with Wally, Oh yes they certainly had. And she didn’t have to lie to him any more! He’d been so good when she’d owned up about her widowhood, and about Marleen. She felt a strange tingle every time she thought of it, of fate working on her side for once. She had told a lie and then it came true! It meant she and Wally were meant to be together. He was the one, and she wasn’t going to let him go. A smile crept across her face as she counted the little bars of chocolate into their boxes.

  ‘Ooh, I wonder who she can be thinking of!’ one of her friends called across. ‘You don’t half wear your heart on your sleeve, Ruby!’

  ‘So would you if you had a fella like mine!’ Ruby retorted. ‘And I’m going dancing with him tonight!’

  Six hours to go. It seemed an eternity. Never mind, she told herself, come eight o’clock you’ll be in his arms!

  She had bought the emerald satin dress she had worn to Davey’s party from a lady who had put a little sign up in a shop window on the Bristol Road. When Ruby called on her to see it, it was as if it had been made for her. The vivid green fulfilled her longing for colour in these drab times. It came right down to her mid-calf, not like the skimpy wartime hemlines, and was rather tight, the shimmery green hugging her curves like a second skin, the low-cut neck showing more than a hint of cleavage, and the skirt, though not as full as Ruby would have liked, swinging from her broad hips as she moved. Under it she wore a precious pair of the nylons Wally had brought for her – no more eye-pencilling a line up the back of her legs! – and her feet nestled in her one pair of smart navy court shoes. All in all she felt very silky and seductive.

  ‘My!’ Wally whistled admiringly the first time he saw it, and though she had worn it a number of times, when they met at the dance hall that night he greeted her appreciatively, almost as if he’d never seen it before. Taking her arm he spoke over the loud music of the band: ‘You look swell. May I have the first dance, ma’am?’

  Ruby laughed, delighted by his quaintness and the sight of his strong, uniform-clad body. Scarlet lips close to his ear, she murmured, ‘You can have all of ’em,’ and he swung her on to the dance floor. It was Wally who had persuaded her that she should dance more.

  ‘Clumsy?’ he contradicted when she tried to protest against it. ‘Oh no. You should just try it with me. You can dance – I know you can.’

  And with Wally’s arms round her guiding her she found she could, and revelled in it. She drew the line at jitterbugging – ‘I’m too hefty – I’d break your back doing that!’ – but found
her rhythm to all the favourite swing music, jiving and twirling to Glenn Miller and Duke Ellington, Wally holding her close through the slow numbers. Their favourite song was ‘Moonlight Serenade’. Along with all the others out to have a good time and brighten up the bleak wartime days, she felt that an evening of dancing could cheer the whole week. And with Wally, she could almost fly! They danced number after number, occasionally sitting out for a drink to get their breath back, faces glowing, laughing and chatting. For the first time Ruby found she didn’t need to be in a group, as she had when they were younger and used to go out with Frank, Jack and the other lads. She was happy just being with Wally. When a slow number came on, Wally held her close, staring straight into her eyes until she was weak with desire for him.

  ‘Let’s go soon,’ she whispered. ‘Where we can be on our own.’

  Wally closed his eyes for a second. ‘You’re my girl,’ he said, in that drawling accent which she loved. ‘My lovely Ruby, my jewel.’

  The only place to go, in the winter cold, was Glover Road. They sat wrapped round each other on the bus, snatching kisses in the murky light. When Ruby let them into the house, to her relief the place was quiet. The boys were in bed.

  They were kissing before they’d even taken their coats off. One of the things that excited Ruby about Wally was the way he was such a gentleman when they were out, yet his kisses were urgent and uninhibited. He pressed her forcefully against the wall in the darkness, his hands sliding up under the green silky skirt.

  ‘Wait—’ Ruby took hold of his arms. ‘I’ll go up and see if Perce’s put Marleen in my room . . . I can move her out . . .’

  But his hands continued to caress the back of her thighs. ‘Why not here?’ he murmured. ‘Here and now, baby . . .’