Danny felt it was one of those forsaken days when everything went wrong. Back in Dawson Street everyone was mourning poor Bella, and Connie was shut up in her room crying. He had tried to cheer her up before he left to meet Alison, but on this occasion his playful chatter did no good. Now he was waiting to say goodbye to Alison, who seemed quite happy to be on her way home. As he stood beside her case a large lady in a mink stole and feathered hat dragging a tiny dog on a lead beckoned a porter over and addressed him with her high–pitched voice. The hysterical–looking dog sniffed at the case by Danny’s feet and began to cock its leg. Danny quickly lifted the case and resisted a strong urge to drop it on the dog’s head. He turned angrily and walked away.
Five minutes later he saw Alison emerge from the Ladies and talk briefly to a porter before walking over to him.
‘What shall we do, Danny?’ she said. ‘We’ve got almost an hour before the train leaves.’
‘This station’s givin’ me the willies. Let’s get a drink.’
They walked out into Praed Street and found a little pub a short distance from the station. In the smoky atmosphere they sat in a corner sipping their drinks. Alison put her stout down on the table and ran her index finger around the rim of the glass. ‘Tell me something, Danny,’ she said, ‘are you disappointed?’
Danny looked up into her dark eyes. ‘About what?’
‘About what I told you today in the park. And about us not having much time together.’
‘No, I’m not disappointed,’ he lied. ‘What ’appened wiv you an’ this Bill was yer own affair. As fer not ’avin’ much time tergevver, I’m not really disappointed, I’m more sorry. It wasn’t on the cards, was it?’
Alison fished into her handbag and took out a small mirror. While she was studying her reflection she said, ‘I’m sorry too. Really sorry.’
Danny laughed mirthlessly. ‘Now if I was an Arab sheik or somefink I’d ’ave carried yer off this afternoon. You’d ’ave bin a prisoner in my tent, an’ I’d ’ave dismissed all the uvver wives while we made love.’
Alison stroked his hand and Danny felt the softness of her skin. She looked into his pale eyes and smiled. ‘I don’t want to be ravished by a sheik, Danny. A soldier boy will do–or should I say ex–soldier.’
They were silent for a while, then Danny said, ‘Alison, do yer fink I’m a bit slow?’
The young girl laughed aloud. ‘Slow, Danny? I think you’re as sharp as a pin.’
‘I don’t mean that way,’ he said quickly, ‘I mean slow–you know–ter get goin’?’
Alison picked up her drink again and Danny had the feeling she was laughing at him. ‘Of course I don’t. Let’s face it, Danny, we’ve not had any opportunity to . . . Well, you know what I mean.’ She looked up at him and noticed the tell–tale twitch of his mouth. He put his hand into his coat pocket and laid Johnny’s front door key down on the table in front of her.
‘Yes we ’ave,’ he said. ‘A pal o’ mine loaned me that key. ’E said I might wanna take yer to ’is flat.’
Alison looked surprised. ‘Why didn’t you?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ he replied. ‘It seemed wrong. It seemed like it was all arranged. What’s more, the bloke that give me the key can’t keep ’is mouth shut. If I tell ’im I used the flat, ’e’d be a walkin’ News of the World.’
‘Why did you take the key then, Danny?’
‘It was the way I was feelin’ at the time, I s’pose.’
Alison studied her long fingernails. ‘Do you feel different now?’
‘Yeah, I want yer twice as much,’ Danny said quietly.
‘Danny.’
‘Yeah?’
‘There’s another train leaving at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. We could go to a hotel.’
Their eyes met, and for a moment they clasped hands, the noise and movement around them forgotten. Finally Danny smiled sheepishly and picked up the glasses. ‘Let’s ’ave anuvver drink,’ he said.
Night was falling as they emerged from the pub. Taxis hooted and swerved in and out of the station and evening revellers sauntered through the busy street.
Danny took Alison’s arm. ‘Let’s cross over,’ he said. ‘The side turnin’s are the best bet.’
They found themselves in a narrow backstreet where almost all of the Victorian terraced houses offered rooms for the night. The first two places were full, but at the third attempt they were successful. A bleary–eyed man with his shirt–sleeves rolled back over his forearms span the register and watched as Danny signed them both in as Mr and Mrs Halleron. He handed Danny a key and called out, ‘Beryl, take Mr an’ Mrs Halleron up to number six.’
A fat woman with a cheery grin waddled up the carpeted stairs ahead of the young couple, and when she had recovered her breath she opened the door at the end of the landing. ‘There you are, me dears,’ she said. ‘If there’s anything else you want, you just tell hubby. Breakfast is from eight o’clock.’
The room smelled musty but it was clean. The curtains were drawn back and the bed with its white counterpane seemed to fill the room. Danny looked at Alison in the dimness and she stepped close to him. Their lips met and their bodies came tightly together. The kiss was long, and when they moved apart Danny pulled the curtains shut and switched on the light. A tall wardrobe of dark wood, an old chair, and a washstand were the only furniture in the room. Over the bed was a gilt–framed picture of Victorian Bayswater. The walls were covered with a floral wallpaper, and hanging from the ceiling above the bed was a tasselled shade around the light which gave out a pinkish glow. Danny opened a door which led, amazingly, to a private bathroom and Alison began to undo her suitcase.
‘Look at this,’ he called out to her, eyeing the large bath. ‘This beats our ole bog in the yard. A real tub as well. We take our’n down from a peg be’ind the back door.’
When Alison went to the bathroom Danny turned off the light and opened the curtains. He sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at the moon. The room felt strange and he suddenly realised he was trembling. The bathroom door opened and he saw Alison standing on the threshold. He caught his breath as he saw her figure silhouetted in the dim light; her hair seemed to shine, and as she came over to the bed Danny noticed her small, firm breasts standing out beneath the white cotton of her nightdress. ‘Christ! Yer beautiful,’ he breathed as she sat down beside him.
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she said with a coy smile.
Danny reached out and pulled her to him. She did not resist as he kissed her chin and neck, and when he pressed her down on the bed Alison shuddered with pleasure as his fingertips traced a very gentle ring around her taut nipple. After a lingering kiss Danny drew up on his arms and looked down at her flushed face and sighed deeply. ‘I won’t be long,’ he whispered as he rose and went into the bathroom.
Alison climbed into the comfortable bed and pulled up the bedclothes. She had been aroused, and the desire for full love made her feel impatient. ‘Come on, Danny, don’t keep me waiting,’ she whispered aloud.
Danny was standing in front of the wash–basin. He had washed down in cold water to ease the growing feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. He eyed his pale skin and looked at the thin white scar that ran from his right side to his sternum. He ran his trembling fingers through his fair hair and reached for the towel which he wrapped around his middle. From somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind a strange alarm was beginning to interrupt his thoughts. He was reaching out for the unobtainable, a mutual attraction was drawing them both like two moths fluttering around a brightly burning candle flame. He shivered as he turned out the light and opened the door.
Alison saw the slim figure come to her and remove the towel from around his stomach as he slipped in the bed beside her. She turned to face him and felt his fingers stroke her hair. She had wanted their love–making to be slow and gentle, but now as his anxious hands caressed her aching body she became impatient. Suddenly Alison sat up, and with one smooth movement she
pulled the nightdress over her head and guided his trembling hands up to her naked breasts.
In the dark hotel room, with the moon gently streaming over the bed, they became lovers at last.
A cloud had covered the moon, and now monstrous shapes seemed to loom up in the shadows around the ghostly white counterpane which covered Danny and Alison. The wardrobe creaked and occasionally the distant sound of a train drifted in through the open window. The lovers lay close, their demanding passion spent. Alison rested her head on Danny’s chest and gently ran her fingers down his arm. He held her close and watched the eerie light playing tricks around them. Danny could smell the fragrance of her hair and her warm body scent that had drawn him to the summits of pleasure. Now, his body calm and heavy, he whispered into her ear: ‘I’ve never experienced anyfing so good. You was fantastic.’
Alison sighed and nestled even closer. ‘I didn’t want it to end. Was I greedy?’
‘You was great.’
‘So were you.’
Danny stretched out and yawned. ‘It’s funny really. ’Ere we are in a bedroom of a strange ’otel, an’ only a couple of hours ago I was gettin’ ready ter see yer off. I ’ad the feelin’ yer wanted ter get on that train as soon as yer could. I was gettin’ the ’ump on that station. I like comin’s not goin’s. I was jus’ gettin’ used ter the idea of a lonely trip back ter Bermon’sey when yer told me about the uvver train. Was that what yer was speakin’ ter the porter about?’
There was no answer and Danny realised that Alison had fallen asleep. Her breathing was shallow and even, and as he eased her head onto the pillow she sighed and slipped her arm around him.
The early morning was dull and humid. When Danny awoke he found that the place beside him was empty. He sat up with a start and then dropped back onto the pillow when he heard the sound of water running in the bathroom. In a while Alison came into the bedroom fully dressed, her face fresh and pink. She squeezed his big toe. ‘Come on, sleepy–head, breakfast started ten minutes ago.’
Danny got up and washed his face in cold water, grimacing at the puffiness under his eyes and the light stubble around his chin. He dressed quickly and went back into the bedroom. ‘I’m gonna remember this room,’ he said, pulling Alison to him. She held him at bay and smiled. ‘Come on, let’s get some breakfast,’ she said.
Down in the dining–room two other couples sat at breakfast. A dark–skinned man was chatting incessantly to a woman who nodded at him between mouthfuls of egg and bacon. Another couple was utterly silent. Danny became intrigued as he waited with Alison for their breakfast to appear. The man was much older than his partner and he continued to glance at her while he ate. The girl returned his look occasionally with an angry glare. Whatever row had happened between them last night was spilling over into the morning, Danny thought. He saw the man point to the last piece of toast on the plate and in answer the girl with him nodded her head. The man picked up the slice of toast and dipped it into the yolk of his egg with a vengeance, the girl watching disdainfully as he greedily devoured the toast. It’s a good job bedrooms can’t talk, he mused.
Alison touched his hand briefly. ‘Don’t stare, Danny,’ she chided him.
‘You ought ter be sittin’ where I’m sittin’,’ he whispered. ‘There’s a full–scale war of silence goin’ on be’ind yer.’
Two portions of egg, bacon and tomatoes were placed in front of them with a plate of thin, crispy toast. The fat cheery lady who had shown them to their room came in carrying a tray with a small china teapot, cups and saucers, milk and sugar. She placed the tray on the table and smiled. ‘I hope you both slept well?’
‘I was off as soon as I ’it the piller,’ Danny grinned, and Alison flushed slightly.
They ate their breakfast in silence. The other couples had left and the only other person in the room was a weary–looking girl who was busy laying fresh tablecloths on the cleared tables. She yawned as she carried a pile of plates out to the kitchen. Danny watched her exit with some amusement. ‘’Appy soul, ain’t she?’
‘I don’t suppose she’s got much to laugh about,’ Alison answered, sipping her tea.
Danny could sense some irritability in her tone but chose to ignore it. He glanced at the wall clock. ‘It’s only jus’ nine, we’ve got plenty o’ time.’
‘I don’t want to leave it to the last minute, Danny. I don’t relish standing in the corridor all the way to Cardiff.’
Danny gave her a quick look, surprised at her brusque tone. Maybe she was always sharp in the mornings, he thought. It was the first time he had been with her at this time of day. His sister Lucy was the same, it was almost impossible to get a civil word from her before midday. Danny felt a little confused. Though she had given him some insight into her feelings during their conversation in the park yesterday, she still remained mysterious. He sensed her sadness was never far from the surface. He had first begun to notice it back at the hospital in Dover when even in her light–hearted moments she had seemed to be under a shadow. He sensed that the loss of her pilot was only a part of it. Danny was sure it went deeper. She had told him of her fear that she was unable to give a total love but he was puzzled. Last night she had given herself with abandon. She had been willing and eager to lead them both to the heights and had succeeded without any hesitation, without any apparent anxiety. Maybe she desired the very thing she rejected, and snuffed out any chances of finding it with casual flings. Danny hated himself for even thinking that he might just be one of her brief affairs. She had told him that there had been no one before her pilot, but she might have taken lovers since. His thoughts tortured him and he felt a strong urge to get away from the hotel, to walk out into the dull morning and leave his twisted, confused feelings behind.
The weary maid appeared carrying clean folded tablecloths. Alison looked at Danny. ‘We’d better get started,’ she said. ‘I think she wants to clean up.’
Danny settled the bill and they walked out of the side street and into the morning crowds at Paddington Station. Danny bought a platform ticket and walked along beside the carriages until Alison jerked on his arm. ‘Here’s an empty one.’
Danny climbed aboard the train and put Alison’s suitcase on the luggage rack. He stepped down again onto the platform and Alison joined him. ‘I’ll always remember last night, Danny,’ she said. ‘It was wonderful.’
‘Don’t ferget ter write. I can meet yer when yer come back ter London.’
Alison nodded but said nothing.
‘I could come down ter Dover if they ease the restrictions, Alison.’
She touched his arm. ‘Don’t let’s make any plans yet. I’ll write to you, I promise.’
The railway guard walked along the platform, his green flag held ready. The lovers kissed and Alison pulled away from his grasp. As she climbed aboard the train the guard raised his flag. Danny stood watching as the train drew away, and he waved until Alison’s head disappeared into the carriage. He thought about their conversation in the park, and the quiet moonlit room in the backstreet, and then turned on his heel to walk away down the platform.
Chapter Eighteen
Frank Sutton was prowling around the house waiting for Joe Copeland’s knock. It was the time of day when Alice made her views known, and she chose this particular time for good reason. Frank could be argumentative and was inclined to ‘argue the hind legs off a donkey’, as she put it, so when she had something important to say or a telling point to make, Alice caught him when he was getting ready to go to work. Frank had to get to work on time or he would miss the ‘call–on’, so he didn’t have time to argue with her. And then he would have all day to dwell on what she had said, and in the evening after a hard day’s work, Frank would be too tired to argue. It was the way Alice made sure that she was listened to.
Today Alice had a point to make and she timed it to perfection. ‘I don’t mind Danny comin’ and goin’, Frank,’ she said as her husband looked anxiously at the door, ‘but ’is bed wasn’t slept i
n last night. Gawd knows where ’e is, but I do know ’e was takin’ this nurse out.’ And she looked at Frank to check that he understood her.
Frank sighed as he looked through the curtains and saw Joe hurrying along the turning. ‘I’ve told yer before, Alice,’ he said. ‘’E’s over twenty–one. I can’t stop ’is sweets or smack ’is arse, now can I?’
‘It ain’t the point, Frank. ’E could ’ave told us ’e wasn’t comin’ ’ome. Somefink could ’ave ’appened to ’im. You’ll ’ave ter talk to ’im, you’re ’is farver.’
‘I ain’t got no time ter argue wiv yer, Alice. Joe’s comin’ along the street. Anyway, I don’t s’pose ’e knew ’e was gonna stop out.’
‘Well I want yer ter ’ave a word in ’is ear. ’E might take notice o’ you.’
Frank opened his mouth to utter a choice profanity, but Joe’s rat–tat stopped him. ‘I’ll see yer ternight, Alice. We’ll talk about it then.’
Alice felt pleased with what she had accomplished. She reckoned that there was enough on her plate, what with Connie being all upset over Jimmy, and now Maggie springing it on her about sending the kids away from London, without having to worry about Danny’s roamings. Young Tony Arpino had come round to see him and had had to leave a message. It wasn’t good enough, Alice told herself, as she took the broom to the passage carpet. Frank will have to say something to him. Stopping out all night is asking for trouble. Danny might have got the poor girl pregnant. Worse still, he might be lying in some hospital. Her thoughts were beginning to make her feel panicky, so she decided the housework could wait. She would go over for a chat with her friend Annie instead. She scribbled a short message on the back of a brown paper bag and after looking it over she propped it up in front of the teapot in the centre of the kitchen table.
Tuppence to Tooley Street Page 19