Edie's Home for Orphans

by Gracie Taylor

  Tilly was right, the RAF boys looked almost indecently handsome in their uniforms. Rob was a strapping lad, six feet tall, spruce in brass buttons and slate-blue blazer, his dark hair slick and styled in the fashion that had earned them their ‘Brylcreem boys’ nickname. He also had a lovely warm smile, not to mention appealing chocolate-brown eyes. Edie could appreciate all that, but the uniform also served as a reminder – and a warning. Charm wasn’t always all that it seemed, and trouble could follow if you lowered your guard …

  Rob, deciding that Edie’s hesitation was tantamount to a yes, had already seized her hand and was leading her towards the dancefloor. She cast a helpless look back at Vinnie, but her friend just smiled and raised her gin glass in a toast.

  ‘I’m really not very good,’ Edie told Rob.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he said as the warden struck up a new tune. ‘This is a slow one, it’s easy. All you need to do is get nice and close then wobble about a bit.’

  She stiffened as he pulled her against him, one arm snaking around her waist while with the other he clasped her hand to his chest.

  ‘Edie, relax,’ he whispered as he began rocking her in time to the music. ‘Sweetheart, it’s only a dance.’

  Edie watched from the corner of her eye as five other couples swayed around them, lost in each other, their eyes gazing into their partner’s as their bodies pressed close. No, she didn’t want that! She tried to remain erect, allowing only the minimum of bodily contact, although she could feel Rob’s hips insinuating with a polite but insistent urgency against hers. How had she allowed herself to be surprised by a slow dance – had Rob bribed his friend on piano? And how could Vinnie be so cruel as not to rescue her?

  Alfie never held her this way when they danced. In fact they usually sat out the slow dances, which her friend found boring, and waited for something a bit livelier. That had felt innocent, a sort of play that still belonged to childhood, but this …

  She and Rob were fully clothed, in the middle of a crowd of people, dancing as men and women had been doing since the dawn of time. Yet somehow, as Rob’s fingertips slowly caressed the curves of Edie’s waist and hip, this felt more like a seduction than a waltz.

  ‘I’ve been watching you all night,’ he whispered as he swayed her.

  ‘Um, have you?’

  ‘Ever since I walked through the door. You don’t know the torment I’ve endured because of you, Edie. Why do you think I wasn’t dancing?’

  Right. This was flirting, wasn’t it? She’d never really got the hang of flirting. She should probably give a careless laugh, then say something witty that was at the same time teasingly aloof. But even with the sideswept hair falling over one eye, Edie was well aware that she was no Rita Hayworth.

  ‘Well, I thought you might be a bit worn out,’ was the best she could manage. ‘I expect it’s tiring, flying and all that.’

  Rob laughed: a deep, pleasant sound. Edie could feel it rumble through his chest as it pressed against her bosom.

  ‘You little comedian,’ he purred in her ear.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. Beautiful girls ought to be funny. For me that’s the perfect combination.’

  Honeyed words. Seductive words. Edie’s aunt had warned her about words like that, whispered by boys who let their hands wander too far and too freely while they danced; the sort of boys who went conveniently deaf when a girl said ‘no’. And yet Edie could feel her body starting to relax in Rob’s arms as the soft music and her own instincts overruled every lesson she’d ever been given. Sensing her surrender, Rob pressed her closer.

  ‘I didn’t dance before because I didn’t want to dance with anyone but you,’ he murmured, his lips close to her ear. ‘It took me ages to get up the nerve to talk to you. I was terrified some other chap was going to sweep you away before I made it, but clearly they’re all as dumbstruck by the stunning new girl as I am.’

  ‘That’s … nice of you to say.’ Edie inhaled against his chest. He smelled good, sort of masculine and clean … soap and cigars …

  ‘I know you’re thinking I probably say that to all the girls I dance with.’ He tilted her chin so he could look into her face. ‘I promise that isn’t true. I know what people think, but we’re not all wolves in the RAF.’

  ‘I didn’t think anything of the kind,’ Edie murmured, looking up into his eyes.

  His face was drawing closer, his hot, slightly ragged breath on her cheek. It was intoxicating, this new world of handsome, gallant officers who smelled good and paid you compliments and let their fingers trail over your body with tantalising softness while they danced. Edie could feel her heart thundering as Rob’s lips moved closer to hers, her power to resist almost gone …

  He turned her in time to the music, and it was then that she noticed someone watching them through the kitchen hatch. Not one of the girls, but a male someone – a someone she knew.

  Sam Nicholson! What was he doing here? Hastily Edie struggled out of Rob’s arms, but when she turned to look again, Sam had disappeared.

  Rob frowned. ‘Edie? Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, I …’ She held a hand to her forehead. ‘I just feel a little light-headed, that’s all. I need to go out for some air.’

  ‘Shall I fetch you some water?’ he asked, looking concerned. ‘You ought to drink something if you’re faint.’

  ‘Please, Rob. Just … let me alone a moment. I need to be on my own. Sorry.’

  She hurried for the door, leaving a puzzled Rob staring after her. Outside in the moonlight, she sagged against the hostel wall and inhaled deeply.

  How did she feel? Angry? Disappointed? Relieved? Something had been about to happen, on the dancefloor with Rob – with a stranger, for heaven’s sake! And what was more, she’d wanted it to. If it hadn’t been for Sam …

  Edie stood still for a moment, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. When she was calm she looked inside herself and realised that her dominant feeling was, after all, relief. She had been about to lose her head. If Rob had kissed her, she knew she wouldn’t have resisted. That was definitely a very, very bad idea. Really, she owed Sam a debt of gratitude for appearing when he had.

  What on earth had come over her tonight? She wasn’t acting at all like herself and she didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t like the feeling of not being in control; of being someone else, a new Edie who danced and flirted and … kissed. Kissed men she scarcely knew, at that. It had taken the familiar, earthy sight of her boss in his work clothes to snap her back to reality.

  Gin was a wicked affair, she decided. Clearly it turned perfectly sensible young women into the sort of blithering idiots who swooned at a few compliments from a good-looking man. Edie made a mental note to stay away from the stuff in future.

  ‘Having a nice evening, are we?’ a gruff voice demanded.

  She started. ‘Bloody hell, Sam. I thought you’d gone.’

  He stepped out of the shadows. ‘Clearly not. What’s the matter, London? You didn’t look right happy to see me just now.’

  ‘I … what are you doing here, anyhow?’

  ‘Dropping off some eggs. I supply the kitchens here. Didn’t realise you ladies were having a soirée or I’d have put on my top hat and tails.’ He leaned down to look into her face. ‘Had a drink?’

  ‘A little gin.’ She pulled a face. ‘I didn’t care for it much. It tasted like your sheep dip smells.’

  He didn’t smile. ‘Who was the toff you were gazing besottedly at before?’

  She could tell him it was none of his business. She had every right to. But for some reason, she didn’t.

  ‘Rob Gill. He’s a flight lieutenant in the RAF. Friend of Vinnie and Barbara’s.’

  ‘And yours too, I’m guessing. You certainly looked … close.’

  ‘We just met tonight. He asked me to dance with him so I did.’ She met his eye defiantly. ‘That’s all right, isn’t it? Dancing, at a dance? I mean, I didn’t realise I had to get my b
oss’s permission.’

  ‘You can do as you please,’ he said with a careless shrug. ‘Just surprised you’d go for a bloke like that, that’s all. They think a deal too well of themselves, those johnnies in uniform, and they’ve got a line for every woman they meet. Wouldn’t have thought that would impress an upstanding young lady like yourself.’

  Edie bristled at the obvious mockery in his tone. ‘I’d say they’re entitled to think well of themselves. They’re serving their country, aren’t they?’

  Sam frowned. ‘And just what do you mean by that, lass?’

  ‘I mean that if a man’s risking his life for all our good, it’s only right he feels proud.’

  ‘Didn’t know you felt that way,’ he muttered, turning away. ‘I’d best get back to the farm.’

  Edie flinched. ‘Sam – wait.’

  He turned back. ‘What now?’

  ‘Sorry. I’m sorry. What I said about the men serving their country, that wasn’t aimed at you.’

  ‘Huh. If you say so.’

  ‘Honestly. If it sounded that way then I apologise.’

  ‘Well, all right. Let’s forget about it.’

  ‘Look … would you do me a favour?’

  He frowned. ‘Favour?’

  ‘Yes. I wondered if … Would you talk to Davy?’ she blurted out. ‘I’m sure he must be sorry by now about what happened this morning. He was upset, that was all.’

  Sam shook his head, scowling. ‘That boy’s been nowt but trouble since I took him on. He’s got a chip on his shoulder a foot high. Hates me, hates the POWs, hates the world. Davy Braithwaite’s a rum lad and as far as I’m concerned I’m well rid of him. Why the devil should I go begging the little sod to take his job back?’

  ‘He’d had some bad news,’ Edie said quietly. ‘His brother’s missing in action. The family just found out yesterday.’

  Sam’s frown lifted slightly.

  ‘I didn’t know that,’ he said in a softer voice. ‘Well, I’m sorry for it. Still, one bad apple can spoil the barrel. I don’t need discontented workers around my place.’

  ‘It wasn’t Davy who pinned the feathers to your door, you know.’

  ‘And how would you know that?’

  ‘He’s illiterate. So he couldn’t have written on the envelope.’

  Sam frowned. ‘Is he?’

  ‘I’m surprised you didn’t know. You’ll be acquainted with his father, I expect?’

  ‘Aye, more’s the pity,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Nasty piece of work, Fred Braithwaite. A bully, and a bigot to boot.’

  ‘Tilly told me he beats his son, and it’s obvious Fred relishes keeping him in ignorance while he fills him up with hateful ideas. Davy’s young. His dad’s the only male figure he’s had to look up to and he doesn’t know any better than to admire him.’ She latched her gaze on to Sam’s. ‘Think about it, Sam, please. The farm’s the one place he can get away from the poison he’s being served up at home.’

  ‘Important to you, this, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘What for? You didn’t know Davy Braithwaite from Adam’s brother this time last week.’

  ‘I just think life’s dealt him a pretty rotten hand, that’s all.’ She held his gaze. ‘Will you think about it?’

  ‘Hmm. We’ll see.’ He turned to go. ‘Enjoy your dance, Miss Cartwright, and your pretty flight lieutenant. I’ll see you on Thursday.’

  He was about to walk off when he stopped.

  ‘That’s a nice dress, by the way,’ he said, without turning around.

  Edie flushed. ‘Oh. Thanks. Tilly lent it to me.’

  ‘Looks better on you,’ he said quietly. ‘Matches your eyes. Night then.’

  When he’d gone, she leant back against the wall and exhaled.

  What was it about that man? Why should he make her feel ashamed for doing the most natural thing a twenty-one-year-old woman could do: dance with a handsome young man? She’d felt as guilty while he was cross-examining her as if he’d walked in on her and Rob … well, doing something a lot more intimate than they had been doing.

  And yet Sam hadn’t really said anything to accuse her, other than showing some natural male jealousy of the RAF boys and their reputation for being successful with women. Just the fact of him being there, looking at her with judgement in his eyes, had been enough to make her feel she was doing something wrong.

  She scowled as confusion gave way to anger. Sam bloody Nicholson! Just who did that man think he was, demanding explanations from her? She’d only known him for three days and he’d managed to infuriate her more in that time than any man she’d ever met. Then he’d had the cheek to pay her a compliment – a genuine, honest, understated one that had sounded more sincere than any of the flattery Rob had whispered in her ear.

  And then there was her nagging worry that maybe there was more to Sam than just being infuriating. Maybe, just maybe, he was also …

  Edie strode back into the hostel and sought out Vinnie and Barbara.

  Chapter 17

  Inside, Rob had returned to the piano. It looked for a moment as though he might approach Edie to claim a second dance, but something in her expression obviously told him it was unwise.

  ‘Oh. Edie,’ Vinnie said, looking up from an absorbing conversation with Barbara. ‘What happened to Rob?’

  ‘He’s by the piano.’

  ‘Did you like him?’ Barbara asked. ‘He’s a good laugh. We’ve known him for ages.’

  ‘Handsome too,’ Vinnie said, watching her face.

  ‘He’s … I don’t know,’ Edie said, sitting down. ‘Charming, but … maybe a little too well-practised at saying the right thing.’

  Vinnie shook her head. ‘Rob’s not a playboy. A flirt, yes. If I hadn’t trusted him to behave, Edie, I promise I would have rescued you.’ She looked at Rob, who’d fallen into conversation with one of his comrades. ‘Anyhow, he’s keen on you. He hasn’t asked anyone else to dance all night. He’s a bit of a catch, you know.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t approve of marriage.’

  ‘I said I didn’t want to enter the blessed estate,’ Vinnie said with a shrug. ‘That’s not the same as disapproval. We’re all different, aren’t we?’

  ‘Oh, marriage,’ Barbara scoffed. ‘Whyever do girls have to ruin a perfectly good bit of fun by bringing marriage into it? Go on, go dance with Rob. He can’t take his eyes off you.’

  ‘Forget Rob for a minute.’ Edie lowered her voice. ‘Guess who was just here.’

  ‘Who?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘Sam Nicholson, that’s who.’

  ‘Yes, he usually brings us fresh eggs on a Saturday.’ Vinnie frowned, catching her expression. ‘What’s the matter? Did he try it on?’

  ‘No. Just made me feel like a naughty schoolgirl caught with her hand in the biscuit barrel.’ Edie looked from one woman to the other. ‘You two have been hinting at something ever since I got here, all this talk of lusty tups and wandering hands. Just what is it about Sam that you know and I don’t?’

  Barbara glanced at Vinnie. ‘We wanted to put you on your guard, that’s all. Sam does favour you, and you’re so … well, you seem rather naive about these things, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘You think he’s the father of Tilly’s baby. Don’t you?’

  Vinnie nodded. ‘We know he is.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘She was his favourite when she worked at the farm. It was always her he picked to work alone with – just like he’s started doing with you.’

  ‘Is that all there is to it?’

  ‘No,’ Barbara said. ‘There were other things. She still comes up to the farm every fortnight or so for a private interview with him, and writes to him. We thought perhaps they were making arrangements about the baby, for him to pay for its support.’

  ‘She did give me a letter for him this morning,’ Edie murmured, half to herself. ‘Told me it was something about buying a rabbit, but she seemed evasive. And it was on thi
s fancy scented paper, like … almost like a love letter.’

  ‘Has she confided anything to you?’ Barbara asked.

  ‘Not about Sam.’ Edie glanced at Rob talking to his friend. ‘She told me the father was a pilot from the airbase. Why would she lie?’

  ‘Who knows? Embarrassment, perhaps, that she’s still got her cap set at Sam even after he broke it off.’

  ‘She did say she thought Sam was charming. And she changed the subject when I asked if she knew what you meant about him having wandering hands.’

  ‘It’s no secret around the village that he’s the dad,’ Vinnie said. ‘Not that the gossip bothers Sam. He wasn’t well liked in Applefield before and he doesn’t seem to care if folk have one more thing to hate him for.’

  ‘Has he tried anything with either of you?’

  ‘Not with us, no,’ Barbara said. ‘It’s one of the reasons we’ve clung on to the job. Some of the farmers round here are like bloody octopuses.’

  ‘Octopi, my dear,’ Vinnie said in a superior voice.

  Barbara nudged her affectionately. ‘All right, clever clogs.’

  ‘Have you asked him about it?’ Edie asked, determined not to drop the subject until she had the full story.

  Barbara shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t have the nerve. Vin did though.’

  Vinnie nodded. ‘I didn’t ask him outright, but I was feeling brave one day when we were mucking out the hens so I asked if there was a sweetheart anywhere. Asked if he thought he might have a fat farmer’s wife and a couple of ruddy-cheeked children to help him run the place one day. He must’ve heard the gossip around the village – at least, he knew right away what I was getting at. That was when he admitted it.’

  Edie frowned. ‘Surely not.’

  ‘He bloody did. He told me I’d do well to keep my nose out of his business and said he and Tilly had an understanding – mentioned her by name. I’d only half believed it before that.’

  Edie couldn’t help feeling disappointed. She’d come to respect Sam over the three days they’d worked together, and, yes, to like him a little now she understood his character. Although she’d been pondering her theory about the paternity of Tilly’s baby all day, a part of her had secretly hoped she’d be proven wrong.