by Molly Green
‘Just relax and let me guide you,’ he whispered.
His breath was warm on her neck.
As she gave herself up to the music she felt her shoulders soften and her hand release its claw-like grip on Michael’s. She felt him pull her closer against him, their movements in perfect harmony as he changed direction, twirling her so she was almost dizzy, then danced her at top speed across the width of the floor. She was half conscious of other couples backing away, allowing them space.
She was on wings.
She never wanted it to end.
The music stopped. Michael looked down at her and smiled.
‘Did you enjoy it?’ he said.
She nodded. She couldn’t think of anything to say. The music started up again but he didn’t suggest they have a second dance. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as she had. Maybe he felt self-conscious dancing with a bare-footed partner. Maybe he’d rather have had the glamorous Penelope in his arms. She shrugged off the idea. If it were true, there was nothing she could do to alter it.
But as they approached Michael’s table her heart began to beat rapidly. She’d make her excuses to leave, hoping Jess would follow her. She would not put up with any more sarcasm from that ghastly Penelope. But there was no one sitting at their table. And she knew it was the right one because her boots were still there where she’d left them.
‘They must all be on the floor,’ Michael said, as though reading her thoughts. ‘Good. That’ll give us a chance to have a chat.’
He pulled out her chair and took the seat next to her.
‘What would you like to drink?’ he said, glancing towards her glass, barely touched. ‘And don’t say you haven’t finished your punch, if that’s what it is, as it’ll be warm by now.’
‘I shan’t be able to tell the difference,’ she said ruefully, picking it up and taking a sip. Michael was right. It wasn’t so good as when it was chilled, but it was something at least to wet her mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. ‘I really don’t want anything more. Jess and I’ll be going soon.’
‘You’ve only just come,’ he said, turning towards her.
‘How do you know?’
‘I saw you walk in.’
‘I suppose you recognised Jess.’
‘No. I’ve only met her that one time. But I was sure it was you, even though I admit I did a double take.’
‘Because I looked clean, for once?’
‘Because you looked so different,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget – I’ve never seen you in a dress which sets off those lovely dark curls.’ He paused. ‘I must say both really suit you.’
‘You mean you prefer me in a dress rather than my filthy old men’s clothes?’ she teased, enjoying their banter.
‘I like them, too,’ he chuckled, ‘when they’re on Ronnie. But tonight Ronnie’s gone and Véronique has taken her place.’ He brushed his finger along her jaw. ‘I know you don’t like your full name, but it’s beautiful. Like you.’
Ronnie blinked. Beautiful? Did he mean it? Or was he mocking her?
‘So it’s your birthday, Véronique.’ He studied her. ‘Would it be awfully rude of me if I asked how old you are today?’
She hesitated, then said, ‘Seventeen.’
‘Didn’t you have to be at least seventeen when you started working for the GUCC?’
Ronnie grinned. ‘That’s right.’
‘So you fibbed?’
‘I’m not admitting anything to a police officer.’
He laughed. ‘All right. I won’t hand you in. It’s just that I now feel positively old compared to you.’
‘How old are you, then?’
‘Twenty-one.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind. But you’re very nimble on your feet for someone so elderly,’ she teased.
He grinned. ‘And you dance like an angel.’ He put his hand over hers. ‘Don’t look like that … I never say anything I don’t mean. You can ask Kath.’
‘Good job I wasn’t wearing the boots then,’ she answered lightly, conscious of the touch of his skin.
‘Yes, it’s possible angels don’t wear boots,’ he grinned. ‘But I’m sure there’s a story behind them. So what really happened? Did you forget to bring your shoes?’
‘No, I had them with me, but I left them on the bus. It was because the driver had to brake sharply so he didn’t hit some poor woman who ran in front of him. But a mother and baby across the aisle from us fell into the front window. The baby hit its head and the conductor said we all had to get off so he could get them to hospital. So in the rush I forgot.’ She hesitated. She might as well tell him the rest. ‘The thing is … they’re Dora’s.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘Dora’s? You mean you borrowed some dancing shoes from our Dora?’
‘The very one,’ Ronnie couldn’t help chuckling at his astonished expression. ‘The strange thing is that our feet are exactly the same size. She told me they were special.’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to tell her I’ve lost them.’
Michael seemed about to say something when the others returned, Kathleen smiling at both of them as she sat down.
‘Gosh, it’s a while since I did any ballroom dancing,’ she said, sounding a little out of breath, ‘but I had a good partner – much older than me but he was a dab hand and I really enjoyed it.’ She looked at Ronnie. ‘How about you? Did my brother give you a twirl?’
Ronnie felt Jess and Penelope’s eyes on her, then to her embarrassment they both glanced at Michael’s hand still warm on her own.
‘Yes, he did,’ she said, quickly pulling her hand away. ‘He played it down about his dancing and never once stepped on my bare toes.’
She bent to put on her boots and when she straightened up she caught Penelope watching her closely. The woman immediately busied herself lighting another cigarette.
‘Ronnie left her shoes on the bus because there’d been an accident,’ Michael said, turning to Ronnie. ‘You know, it’s not terribly late. Why don’t we get a cab and go to the bus depot where they have a Lost Property desk? You said everyone had to vacate the bus so I’m sure the conductor would have noticed the bag and handed it in.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ Ronnie said, feeling herself stutter with embarrassment under Penelope’s gaze, ‘but—’
‘No buts,’ Michael said. ‘If we go now and get them, you won’t have to spend time tomorrow chasing them when Dora will need all hands on deck, so to speak.’
Ronnie admitted Michael had a point. If she left it until tomorrow she’d have to confess. Dora would be furious and resent time wasted when they needed to press on to Coventry. She saw Penelope’s eyes narrow.
‘I think it’s a good idea, Michael,’ Kathleen said. ‘Don’t worry about us – we’ll be fine.’
‘But such a shame to break up the evening we’d all been looking forward to.’ Penelope inhaled on a fresh cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke rings over their heads.
Michael glanced towards her and Ronnie detected a tightening around his eyes as though he didn’t approve of the woman. For some reason she felt an unexpected stab of triumph.
‘What about Jess?’ she said.
‘She comes too. Then the cab will drop you as near as possible to where you’re moored – it’ll be quicker and safer. But if we’re going, we need to go right away,’ he added, ‘so I’ll go and find her.’ He vanished.
‘Oh, Jess, I’m sorry to drag you away but—’ Ronnie began when Jessica reappeared.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Jessica cut in. ‘Michael’s explained. In fact, he rescued me from the most awful partner. He had bad breath and kept trying to kiss me. I turned my cheek and ended up with his drool. Ugh.’ She fished in her bag and brought out a handkerchief and wiped both cheeks. ‘Oh, that’s better.’ She grinned at Ronnie and Michael. ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’
‘It was very nice to meet you, Kathleen,’ Ronnie said sincerely. She glanced at Penelope and gave her a curt nod, the
n followed Jessica to the cloakroom, Penelope’s peal of laughter sounding in her ears.
A cab was waiting for them when she and Jessica stepped outside, Michael holding the rear door open. The three of them climbed in and Michael pulled down one of the single seats to sit facing them.
‘The bus depot’s only a few minutes away,’ he said.
As they arrived, the man at the Lost Property desk was just rolling down the shutter.
‘Sorry, mate,’ he said to Michael. ‘Yer too late. You’ll have ter come back tomorrow – we’re open 9 a.m. to 9 p.m.’
‘Wait a moment—’ Michael began.
‘No arguin’, mate. I’m closed.’
Michael produced a leather case and flipped it open, then held it up to the man’s face.
‘Constable Scott,’ he said. ‘And I’m asking you to open up.’
The man’s eyes widened. ‘Why didn’t you say you was the police?’
‘You’re wasting my time.’ Michael’s voice was firm. ‘Just open up and tell me if a bag has been handed in, containing a pair of ladies’ shoes.’
‘What sorta bag?’
‘A cotton drawstring bag,’ Ronnie said.
‘What time was it?’
‘About an hour ago,’ Ronnie said. ‘The bus driver or the conductor would have brought it in.’
‘You’ll have to give me a minute. I don’t work here – I’m just doin’ a favour to close up.’
He rolled back the shutter and peered amongst the shelves, taking out left items and putting them back. Ronnie thought she would scream with frustration.
‘A drawstring bag, you say?’
‘Yes.’ Ronnie’s eyes roved over the shelves, then excitedly she pointed to one of the pigeonholes. ‘That’s it!’
The man removed a cotton bag and Ronnie pounced on it. She opened it and pulled out a silver shoe which glittered in the dim electric light.
‘Oh, thank goodness, it’s hers.’ She looked happily up at Michael.
‘Goodness, I can’t see Dora in these,’ Michael grinned. ‘But if you say so.’
‘Oh, I do.’
‘Please sign here, sir,’ the man said, putting a book in front of Michael. ‘And the date and your address.’
‘I’ll note down my police number,’ Michael said. ‘That should be good enough.’
‘Quite, sir.’
‘Thank you very much,’ Ronnie said, smiling and taking Jess’s arm, her other hand firmly gripping Dora’s shoe bag.
‘You were lucky, Ronnie,’ Jessica said. ‘So come on, Cinders. Let’s get home so that Michael can return to the dance hall.’
Ronnie looked at him curiously.
‘I’m seeing you both back to the boats and then I’ll catch the train straight back to Oxford,’ he said. ‘Even for a policeman, I think I’ve had plenty of excitement for one evening.’
For some inexplicable reason, Ronnie felt a quiver of satisfaction. He wasn’t going to dash back to Penelope.
The cab dropped the two girls as close to the boat as possible. Michael got out and gave a hand to Jessica, then Ronnie.
‘Goodnight, Michael,’ Jessica said. ‘Thanks for coming to the rescue. I can’t imagine what Dora would have said to Ronnie coming back without her precious shoes.’
‘All in the line of duty,’ Michael grinned.
A little embarrassed that Jessica had patently left her alone with Michael, Ronnie said, ‘It was awfully kind of you to go out of your way like that. You’ve saved my life.’
‘Knowing the little I’ve seen of Dora, I can believe it,’ Michael chuckled. ‘Anyway, you’re all safe and sound.’ Facing her squarely, he gently tilted up her chin. ‘You did look beautiful tonight, Véronique,’ he said, ‘but you’re just as pretty in your boat clothes – don’t ever forget it.’
And then he bent his head.
As his lips touched hers, Ronnie trembled. His kiss deepened, was so tender … Instinctively, she kissed him back. His arms came around her, holding her close … so close she imagined she could feel his heart beating beneath his coat.
‘I won’t ever forget this evening and especially our quickstep,’ he said finally, holding her a little away from him.
‘I don’t suppose you will, having a partner with bare feet?’ she laughed, a little breathless, but more sure of herself now.
‘That’s not the reason why.’ She could just make out his grin in the darkness. ‘Did you enjoy your birthday?’
‘I’d almost forgotten it was,’ she said, truthfully, not admitting her mind was now on other things. But she wasn’t going to let him know that.
‘And tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Are you going home?’
‘No,’ Ronnie said. ‘We can’t go on leave again until we’ve finished our six-week training.’
‘Are you sorry?’
‘Not really.’ She paused. ‘Well, I am for my mother as she’ll probably be on her own, although Raine might get a couple of days’ leave. But I’m quite looking forward to a more unusual Christmas on the boat.’
‘You must let me know how it goes,’ he chuckled. ‘Well, I’d better wish you a merry Christmas.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Goodnight, Ronnie,’ he said softly. ‘Sleep tight.’
‘Merry Christmas, Michael,’ she said, but he’d already disappeared.
It was only when she was tucked in bed that night, staring up at the wooden ceiling, and still feeling the imprint of Michael’s kiss, that she wondered why he’d singled her out. Jess and Penelope were undeniably far more glamorous than she could ever hope to be. Or wanted to be, she thought. But Michael seemed to like her for herself. She smiled in the darkness, enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat and comforted by the warmth of Lucky on her now aching feet at the end of the bed and Jessica’s light snoring only inches away. It was at that moment she realised she’d spent most of the evening with another man and hadn’t once given Will Drake a thought.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ronnie opened her eyes the next morning and yawned. She stretched her arms above her head, the events of last night still on her mind. Walking with Jess into the dance hall wearing May’s lovely dress, the effect completely ruined with the Wellington boots instead of Dora’s glittery dance shoes. Then bumping into Michael. He was the last person she’d expected to see. Meeting his sister, Kathleen, whom she’d liked straightaway. But not that awful friend, Penelope. Ronnie wondered not for the first time why the two of them were friends. The hard-faced but glamorous Penelope seemed the very opposite to Kathleen. And did Michael realise how the woman made a beeline for him at every possible opportunity? Maybe he liked the attention. But he hadn’t chosen to dance with her.
Yet he was willing to dance with me, even in my boots. She chuckled to herself as she recalled the look of astonishment on Penelope’s face when she’d removed her boots. Then she felt that same funny little quiver when she remembered the touch of his fingertips on her bare ankles.
She relived those moments in his arms, following his steps in her bare feet, praying no one would step on them. She hadn’t wanted the music to end. She supposed it was the novelty of dancing with a man instead of one of her classmates. But Michael wasn’t just any man. She was certain no man would ever have kissed her the way Michael had.
She shook herself. This wasn’t getting anywhere. What was the time? She turned over to look at the clock but it was too dark to read. It must be early. She wondered what the plans were for this evening and tomorrow, Christmas Day. Dora certainly hadn’t even mentioned Christmas. It would have been fun to put up some decorations in the boat though she doubted anyone had brought any with them. Like her, they’d probably assumed they would be spending Christmas at home.
‘When are you going to give Dora’s shoes back to her?’ Jessica said at breakfast time.
‘What’s this about Miss Dummitt’s shoes?’ Angela said suspiciously, her eyes darting from Jessica to Ronnie.
‘Oh, nothing, Angela,’ Ronnie said quickly. She didn’t feel
like explaining to Angela how she’d come to borrow something from Dora.
‘It must be something,’ Angela persisted.
‘Oh, all right. Dora lent me her shoes because I didn’t have anything quite right to go with May’s dress.’
‘You sound like a pauper,’ Angela said, frowning. ‘I understood you came from a decent family.’
Ronnie managed to ignore her. Angela simply wasn’t worth arguing with.
‘There’s no need to be so rude.’ Jessica threw Angela a murderous look. ‘It shows you up, not Ronnie.’
‘Are these the shoes in this bag?’ Before Ronnie could stop her, Angela shot up and grabbed the bag, tugged the drawstring and shook one of the shoes out.
‘Goodness, these can’t be Miss Dummitt’s,’ she said as she handled it, turning it this way and that. ‘They look expensive.’ Angela glanced up at Ronnie. ‘She’s not exactly a glamour-puss, is she, but then, neither are you, I wouldn’t have thought.’
‘Put it back at once!’ Ronnie thundered. ‘It’s nothing to do with you. It was very kind of her to lend them to me – not that you’d know anything about kindness.’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it you who calls her “Deadly Dora”?’ Angela shot back. ‘That doesn’t sound very kind to me.’
‘Is that what I’m called?’ Dora’s face poked through the hatch.
Ronnie sat stock-still. Jessica’s mouth twitched.
‘Not by me, Miss Dummitt,’ Angela said, desperately trying to push the shoe back into the bag. ‘All the others call you that behind your back and I think you’ll find that Ronnie started it off.’
‘Yes, you can go red, miss.’ Dora stared at Ronnie, who put her hands to her burning cheeks. Then to her amazement, Dora threw her head back and roared with laughter. ‘I rather like it. Shows I mean business.’ Her laughter stopped abruptly as she squinted at Angela. ‘What’re you doin’ with my shoes, miss? I don’t ’ppreciate my belongin’s bein’ looked over and discussed.’
‘Oh, they’d been thrown on the floor so I was just picking them up. Ronnie was laughing about them, saying you lent them to her, and she couldn’t believe they were yours. Too glamorous for you, she said.’