A Girl Divided

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A Girl Divided Page 20

by Ellen Lindseth


  She bit her lip. Having Mr. Pelton escort her to the post office was one thing. Staying ashore, having lunch with a man she didn’t know very well, and spending extended time in his company without a chaperone? That was quite another thing altogether. Yet the temptation of seeing more of Cape Town pulled at her.

  “No, I’d better not,” she said, ruthlessly stomping on her disappointment. To refuse his offer was the right thing to do, no matter how much she hated it.

  “Are you sure?” he asked with what sounded like genuine disappointment. “I was hoping to take you downtown to this local soda fountain I know of where the milkshakes are absolutely crackerjack.”

  “I’m sorry . . . soda what? Cracker what?” It was as if he had suddenly switched languages on her.

  “Soda fountains. You know, where you can get sodas and drinks? And crackerjack, as in excellent, like having caramel popcorn in a box . . .” An arrested look entered his eyes. “When did you say was the last time you were in the States?”

  She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Never. I’ve only ever lived in China. I was born there.”

  “No kidding?” He considered her another long moment, one brown eyebrow cocked. “Your English is so good, I never would’ve guessed. Tell me, have you ever had a burger or a milkshake? Ever watched a baseball game? Had apple pie?”

  “No.” She shifted uneasily. “At least I think not. Is it bad that I don’t know what half those words mean?”

  “Not necessarily, though it’ll make for one heck of a culture shock when you get to California. And it’s all the more reason you should come with me into town. I can point out the similarities, giving you a leg up on all things Americana, starting with a bottle of Coca-Cola.”

  Relief flooded her as she remembered the fizzy, caramelly brown beverage. “Wait, I’ve tried that. One of the nurses in Kunming gave it to me. It was actually rather good.”

  “Well, that’s a start.” He straightened and gestured down the passageway. “Shall we go? It sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  She hesitated again. If Nathan saw her, she would be in deep trouble. Still, from what she had seen on deck, Cape Town was a big city. If she kept a sharp eye out, she should be able to avoid him.

  “All right, I’ll go. But only if we can stop and get a newspaper along the way so I can check for news of home, and if you promise to have me back right after lunch.”

  “Deal.” He stepped back into the passageway and let her lead the way.

  Up on deck, they were hailed by a group of fashionably dressed people. One was the imperious blonde from the lifeboat drill. The woman lifted her gloved hand in a half-hearted greeting as Genie and Mr. Pelton approached, her expression hidden beneath her wide, flat-brimmed hat and tortoiseshell sunglasses. As they got closer, her wildly red lips compressed into a flat line.

  “Whatever took you so long, Dickie?” she asked, not bothering to spare Genie so much as a glance. “Half the day is gone, I swear.”

  “Patience, Kitty dear. The shops have barely opened.” Mr. Pelton greeted the other two people, a petite brunette with a pretty smile and a sunburned blond man. The man had his arm draped possessively over the brunette’s shoulder. She leaned happily into him, a diamond the size of a pea on her left hand.

  Mr. Pelton turned back to her. “Genie, I’d like you to meet Kitty, Bess, and Larry. Reprobates, all, but I call ’em friends. Gang, I’d like you to meet Miss Genie Baker, recently of China.”

  “Are you going with us?” Bess, the brunette, asked brightly. The genuineness of her enthusiasm was in sharp contrast to Kitty’s glower. “It should be ever so much fun. I, for one, can’t wait to get off this boat!”

  Mr. Pelton shook his head. “No, my dear. Genie and I are off to find a post office, a newspaper, and then maybe a museum or two.”

  Kitty wrinkled her nose. “A museum? How awful. All those dusty exhibits and stuffy rooms. You might as well lock yourself in a stateroom and read a history book.”

  “Oh, it’s not as bad as all that,” he said wryly. “You should try it sometime. You might find it edifying.”

  Kitty stuck her tongue out in reply, and Genie stifled a gasp. To her surprise, Mr. Pelton only laughed, not seeming the least bit put out. Genie couldn’t even imagine how Nathan would have responded to such disrespect.

  The conversation turned to a list of must-visit stores and restaurants as the group started down the gangway. Kitty strode ahead as Bess and Larry sauntered arm in arm, seemingly happy to chat with Genie and Dick. The four of them weren’t even halfway down when Kitty reached the pier. She called out to two passing soldiers, who stopped and waited for her. She said something and the soldiers laughed, and then she made a great show of straightening the taller one’s collar, leaning in very close. Her smile became wide and dazzling as her hands dropped to his chest and lingered. Then she looked up the gangway at Mr. Pelton, her smile all teeth.

  Nervously, Genie glanced at the man beside her. It was clear the blonde was trying to bait him, yet there was no rancor in his expression. In fact quite the opposite. She would swear he was on the verge of laughter.

  “You’re not upset with her?”

  “With Kitty? Not a bit.” His voice was as relaxed as his posture. “Kitty can’t help being . . . well, Kitty, any more than I can help being me. And right now, she’s peeved because I won’t come to heel like a well-trained lapdog.”

  His smile deepened as he watched Kitty spin away from the soldiers in a huff.

  The bemused longing on the soldiers’ faces after she left was almost comical. But it also gave Genie pause. First Nathan’s tenderness with Lavinia, and now Kitty’s effect on the soldiers. How was it those two women knew how to turn men into besotted slaves, whereas she hadn’t a clue?

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Shoving aside her self-doubts, she managed a smile. “I’d save your money, Mr. Pelton. They’re not even worth that much.”

  He winced. “Dick, please. ‘Mr. Pelton’ makes me feel positively ancient.”

  “You mean you’re not?” she teased. To her surprise, he didn’t smile at her joke. Instead shadows entered his eyes.

  “Sometimes I wonder,” he said quietly. “Sometimes a soul can see too much.” Then he gave a rueful laugh. “But listen to me, spoiling a perfect day with a beautiful girl. A day already being cut short by said girl’s heartlessness.”

  “I’m hardly being heartless. Honestly, you’ve already got me agreeing to more than I initially planned.”

  “True.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try for more.”

  Chapter 20

  “So speaking of more,” Dick said three hours later as they finished their lunch. “How about one more hour before we find you that newspaper and head back? There’s another truly modern miracle you’ve yet to see: the department store.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “That you can pass up such a chance? You’re right. You can’t.” Dick leaned his chair back and gave her a cheeky smile. “Besides, you’re just getting started on your lessons in everyday Americana.”

  “To be honest, I don’t know how much more I can absorb. Which is not to say I’m not grateful, because I am. Truly.” She swirled a french fry in a dab of ketchup, both new foods to her and rapidly becoming her favorites. “It’s so strange. A month ago, I thought I knew everything about the world. Everything I needed to, at least. But now I’m starting to think I’ll never know enough.”

  “Traveling can do that to a person.”

  She sighed and drew a sharper pattern in the tomato condiment. “Do you think the war will go on much longer?”

  “Well, considering the wrong side is winning at the moment, a speedy resolution might not be in anyone’s best interest.”

  “Ted said we’re losing ground in the Orient, that England is pulling out.” She stabbed the french fry into her plate until it crumpled as she fought back sudden tears. Lord, please let Ted
be alive and safe.

  “Ted being . . . ?”

  Wiping her fingers on a napkin, she drew a deep, steadying breath. “A friend of mine. He’s a pilot with the AVG. You might have seen him. He was on the flight out of Burma, too.”

  “He was?” he asked, suddenly more alert.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t notice him. He came back and talked to me several times. He was on his way to Cairo to ferry a plane back to make up for the one he crashed not far from my village. Only he’ll tell you it wasn’t a crash but a forced landing.” The memory of how emphatic he had been on that point made her smile. “He’s actually the reason I’m here in Cape Town. My father was looking for a way to get me to safety, and then the Good Lord dropped a Flying Tiger in his lap. Almost literally.”

  “Does your tiger have a last name?”

  “Yoo-nen.” She sounded it out. “It’s Turkish. His family moved to the United States when he was young.”

  “And now he’s fighting to defend his adopted country.” Dick stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “That has real possibilities. An American immigrant saving an American missionary from a war-torn country. There’s an interesting symmetry there.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He shot her a quick, reassuring smile. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud. Any idea if Ted is short for anything, like Edward or Theodore?”

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  He waved away her apology. “Nothing to be sorry about. Ready to continue your education?”

  Once again, she tried to demur, and once again, she found herself giving in. In truth, the department store, which had more clothes and goods displayed than she had seen in her entire life, was worth seeing, as were the moving stairs Dick called escalators. He also used the time to continue her lessons on American slang. She couldn’t wait to go over it all with Lavinia, though perhaps it wouldn’t be as useful for a missionary wife.

  The weather was so beautiful when they left the department store, Dick had no difficulty convincing her to take one more side trip, this time to a city park. After almost two weeks aboard a ship, she loved being surrounded by the rich, earthy aroma of trees and plants.

  “Hard to believe we’re in the midst of a world war when surrounded by such tranquility, isn’t it?” he mused as they strolled past flowering shrubs and manicured lawns. He tipped his hat back to catch more of the sun on his face. “A man could get used to it.”

  “It’s so odd. In my village, we never would’ve known there was a war going on if not for Wu Fang’s radio. Everything was so very peaceful.”

  “I know what you mean. I was in Borneo, scouting locations for a film, when Pearl Harbor was attacked. I had just rolled into the hotel after a day of gorgeous scenery, when the freighter boys—Dutch freighters—asked if I had heard the news: America had joined the war! I didn’t believe it at first, and then I did, and my heart sank.”

  “Why?”

  He was quiet a moment as he pulled a nut out of the bag they had bought and tossed it toward a pair of inquisitive squirrels. “When you were in China, did you by any chance see any of the cities that got bombed?”

  “Only Kunming. My father stopped letting me travel with him when I was ten.”

  He turned to study her. “How old are you now?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “You’re very honest,” he said with a small smile. “Most women I know wouldn’t answer so readily.”

  Her cheeks heated. “Lying, even by omission, is still a sin. At least in my book.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, and he turned back to the squirrels, fishing out another nut. “In answer to your question, I’d seen too much carnage in Europe already. Photographed it for newspapers. Filmed it for newsreels. Lived it firsthand. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone a fellow American.”

  “Wait, I thought you worked in Hollywood.”

  “I do, but I also like to travel, hence the news work.” He gestured toward an official-looking cream-and-white stone building at the end of the avenue. “Want to try the museum?”

  She noted the lengthening shadows and shook her head. “It’s getting late. I really should be getting back.”

  “All right.” He tossed the empty bag aside. “Let’s go.”

  “No argument this time?” she asked, a little shocked.

  “Nope. I figure we’ve been out long enough for a first date.”

  “First date?”

  “I’m teasing, Red.” He cocked his head as if at a sudden thought. “You don’t happen to have a photograph of you and your pilot friend, do you?”

  “I only wish. Though there was a photographer at the dinner in Kunming, where the Chiangs thanked Nathan and me for saving Ted’s life, which was ridiculous, since he was never in any real danger.”

  “Wait. By the Chiangs, do you by any chance mean General Chiang Kai-shek and his wife?”

  “Yes, why?”

  He shook his head in wonder. “Unbelievable. This just keeps getting better and better. Do me a favor, will you? When you get back to the ship, write it all down for me. I know several newspaper editors who would give their right . . . er, arms to run this kind of feel-good story.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “Don’t get shy on me. The American public is starved for good news right now, and it doesn’t get much better than this! One of our boys, a Flying Tiger no less, risking his life to save one of our own. It’s an editor’s dream. And think how proud Ted’s friends and family will be to hear of his heroics. And his girl, too! She’ll be flying on cloud nine, the envy of all the other gals.”

  “Of course. His girl.” Why had she never considered that fact before? Of course Ted had a girl back home. He was too handsome and nice and at ease around women not to. And it would explain why he was so good at kissing. And why he hadn’t wanted her to write him.

  Her chest started to hurt. She had been so stupid.

  “So is it a deal?” Dick asked. “I could write the copy and have you proof it. We can work on it tonight, and then I’ll wire it off before we leave port tomorrow.”

  “Um . . . all right,” she said, the ache around her heart turning into outright pain as she pictured Ted’s girl. She would be beautiful and poised, with shorter dresses and curled hair, like Kitty or Bess. Someone who wasn’t her.

  Dick peered at her in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she said, almost choking on the lie. And here Dick thought she was so honest. What a laugh. She’d been lying to herself since the very first moment she had laid eyes on Ted and hadn’t realized it until now. All those fantasies she had built around him because he was her first kiss, her first infatuation, her first everything. But she wasn’t his first. He had a whole other life, reducing her to nothing but an asterisk. A footnote. Perhaps not even that.

  No wonder he pushed me away.

  “Genie, we don’t have to do the story if—”

  “No, it’s fine. You’re right, I should think of Ted and how proud his family would be. And his girl.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She summoned a smile despite the bleeding hole where her dreams used to be. Dick had been nothing but kind to her all day. Letting him publish the story seemed inadequate payment for all she had seen and experienced today. If she was in pain now, she had no one to blame but herself. “I’m sure.”

  “Well, well!” An unfamiliar man’s voice echoed down the path. “Look who we meet outside the museum. Is it too late to run away?”

  “Larry!” Dick grinned at the man who was strolling up the sidewalk with Kitty and Bess on his arms. “No need to bolt. We’re actually on our way back to the ship, so Cape Town’s museums are safe from you three for another day.”

  “Excellent. Mind if we join you? It’s past time for my afternoon cocktail, and I’d just as soon drink on board as try to navigate that gangway later.”

  “I also think he’s out of money,” Bess whispered, and Genie could believe it
, judging by the slew of bags hanging from his wife’s arm.

  “Oh, come now,” Dick said with a laugh. “He still has a shirt on his back. He’s gotta be good for a few more guilders.”

  “What are you saying?” Larry said in mock horror. “I thought we were friends, Pelton!”

  Dick shrugged. “You know I can’t stand to see a damsel in distress, and Bess here looks so sad.” He chucked her affectionately under the chin. “Surely one more bangle won’t break the bank.”

  Larry frowned. “No, but it might sink the ship. You have no idea all the packages that are already stowed aboard. I doubt there’s a pair of shoes left untried in all of Cape Town.”

  “You poor man,” Dick said with feeling, even as Bess smiled sweetly.

  Kitty rolled her eyes. “Are we through here?”

  “We are,” he said, slinging his arm around Kitty’s narrow shoulders and pulling her close. He bestowed a quick kiss on her cheek, earning a grimace from the woman, but she didn’t pull away. “Say, do any of you happen to have a camera along? I’d like to snap off one or two pictures before the light gets any worse, and in return I’ll pay for processing the whole thing.”

  “I might,” Bess said, stopping to rummage through her bags. “Larry, did we finish the roll down on Sea Point?”

  “No idea, but the crank still turned, so I bet Dick could squeeze another couple on there.”

  Bess pulled a smallish black-and-silver box out of one of the bags with a flourish and held it up. “Ta-da. One camera, as requested.”

  Dick took it from her. “Holy smokes. A Leica, no less. Excellent.”

  Genie stared as he turned it over in his hands. “That’s a camera? It’s so small.”

  “Small, perhaps, but with some of the finest optics in the world. It’s also manufactured in Germany and currently unavailable in the US. Wherever did you get this, Bess?”

  Bess shrugged. “Howie gave it to me for Christmas.”

  “Good man. I wonder if he got it through some backdoor diplomatic channel.” Dick began checking various dials on the camera and peered through a part of it. “I heard Leica sent a lot of their employees out of the country ahead of the border closing in ’39, most of them Jews. I wonder if one of them sought asylum through his office.”

 

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