by Annie Groves
‘And did I?’ she asked Kieran in a small voice.
‘Did you what?’
‘Did I throw off my inhibitions and make a fool of myself?’
Kieran paused to weigh his words. ‘It depends on what you consider to be making a fool of yourself. You were certainly doing a lot of dancing.’
‘Without my inhibitions?’
Kieran shrugged. ‘You’re a good dancer, and you aren’t the sort of girl to forget the way you’ve been brought up, but if that GI you were dancing with had had his way, it would be his bed you’d be in right now.’
Lou’s face burned. ‘I wouldn’t have done anything like that.’
‘You might not have been able to stop him.’
Lou put her hand up to her head. She could remember dancing, but only in a vague sort of way. Showing off, her father would have called it. Her face burned hotter. Her father would not have approved of the way she had behaved tonight and neither would the powers that be within ATA.
‘I showed myself up, didn’t I?’ she asked Kieran in a small voice.
‘It’s London, there’s a war on and you’re on leave – you aren’t the first to let that go to your head and you won’t be the last.’
‘I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me.’
‘Save your thanks until I’ve got you back to your hotel. It’s a pity your pals left the club without you.’
Lou bit her lip, a memory surfacing of June’s anxious expression when she had pleaded with her to leave with them.
‘June, my friend, will have something to say to me, I know. At least I can tell her that it wasn’t all my fault and that my drink had been interfered with.’
‘You stay here. I’ll go downstairs and check that there’s no one around – the last thing either of us needs now is for someone to see you coming out of this hotel or, even worse, out of my room – then I’ll find a taxi to take you to where you’re staying. I shouldn’t say anything about coming here to your pals, if I were you.’
‘No. They’ll be thinking badly enough of me as it is, without thinking I’ve deliberately gone to a man’s hotel with him,’ Lou acknowledged shakily, rubbing her forehead tiredly. ‘My head won’t stop pounding,’ she went on, ‘and my heart feels like it’s racing, and I’m so tired.’
Classic symptoms of using amphetamine pills, from what Kieran had heard from those RAF crews who took them.
‘Wait here. I won’t be long,’ he told Lou, going to unlock the door.
Once he had gone Lou slumped back on the bed. She felt dreadful, nauseous, tired, guilty and ashamed. How could she have behaved the way she had, dancing like she had, and speaking to June the way she had done? Was it really just the amphetamines Patti had put into her drink that had made her behave like that? Unexpectedly, Lou suddenly longed for her twin sister. Sash would have known how much of the way she had behaved was her and how much was the pills, Sash wouldn’t have let her show herself up, and Sash would have defended her if she had done.
Sash. Tears welled up in Lou’s eyes. She wished so much that her sister was here with her.
Downstairs in the hallway Kieran had become trapped in conversation with a fellow pilot, Robin Lewis, from the same base as Kieran, who was telling him drunkenly about his girl, who had left him for someone else.
‘She never wanted me to join up. Wanted me to go into a reserved occupation like her dad, but a chap has to do his duty, doesn’t he?’
‘I should go and get some sleep, old chap,’ Kieran suggested. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning.’
‘No. Tried that before. Doesn’t work. Drink works, though. Want you to have a drink with me. Shouldn’t drink alone. Got a bottle…’ He waved a half-empty bottle of gin in front of Kieran.
Lou would be wondering where on earth he was. Kieran just hoped that she wouldn’t take it into her head to come looking for him. The last thing either of them needed was for Robin Lewis to start telling everyone that Lou had been in Kieran’s room, once he’d sobered up and they were back at their base. Word spread fast in the small community pilots inhabited, especially when it was gossip.
She was so tired. Where was Kieran? Lou stretched out on the bed. It wouldn’t hurt to close her eyes for a few minutes. They felt gritty and strained. Her heart was still racing, thudding into her chest wall, its fast pace wearying her. Lou closed her eyes. Inside her head she could still hear the beat of the music she’d danced to earlier. The GI had been a good dancer, but dancing with him hadn’t been as much fun as dancing with Sash. A small smile softened Lou’s mouth.
Sash. As girls sharing a bedroom their beds had been so close together that they could reach out and hold hands.
Sash. A tear rolled down Lou’s cheek from beneath her closed eyelids, followed by another. Her heart was still racing. Lou put her hand on her chest, wanting somehow to slow it down.
She was so tired. She yawned and then settled herself more comfortably on the bed, giving in and letting sleep claim her.
Kieran exhaled in relief as he finally managed to extricate himself from Robin’s drunken grip, mainly by redirecting his attention to a group of equally inebriated pilots and assorted crew members who had just returned from their evening out.
Now, though, the hallway was crowded with them, and it was going to be next to impossible for him to get Lou out of his room and safely into a taxi without anyone seeing her.
The first thing Kieran saw when he opened the door to his room was Lou flat out and dead to the world, and making that small snuffling sound as she breathed that he remembered his sisters making as children.
Kieran looked back towards the stairs. From the sound of male voices sharing ripe descriptions of their evening’s entertainment, the hallway was still packed and likely to remain so for the foreseeable future.
He looked back at the bed where Lou was fast asleep. There was nothing else for it now, he decided reluctantly. Lou would have to spend the night in his room. Then he’d have to wake her and get her out before any of the other hotel guests were up and about.
SIXTEEN
‘Lou, thank goodness. I’ve been so worried about you. Where have you been? You’ve been gone all night.’ June was sitting up in bed as she spoke, rubbing a tired hand across her eyes, and looking rather disapproving.
Lou forced what she hoped was a reassuring smile as she sat down on the bed in the hotel room she and June were sharing – the unslept-in hotel bed, because last night – but no, she must not think about that. Kieran had said and she had agreed that last night was something it would be best if they both pretended had simply not happened. Not that they – she – had done anything wrong. When Kieran had woken her just over an hour ago she had been shocked by the sight of him standing over her, and then horrified when the events of the previous evening had come back to her.
They had agreed, reluctantly on Lou’s part, since June was her best friend and closest confidante, that all she would tell June was that when she had realised they had left the club, she had felt so unwell and alarmed that she had taken a taxi to her aunt’s apartment at the Dorchester, where she had spent the night.
It had been unfortunate, though, that one of the occupants of the other rooms had seen her leaving Kieran’s room this morning before Kieran had hurried her downstairs and then found her a taxi. Lou’s face burned as she remembered the leering, knowing look he had given them both. A man’s reputation would not suffer any harm because a girl had been seen leaving his room, but her reputation would certainly suffer if it became known that she had spent the night in a man’s bedroom. Working with so many men as they did, it was essential that they were able to command the respect of those men. A girl with a reputation for spending the night in men’s rooms would certainly not command any respect.
‘I know. I’m sorry if you were worried about me. I should have left the club with you when you said you were leaving,’ Lou admitted penitently, avoiding looking directly at June in case her guilty expression gave her away,
as she added, ‘When I realised you’d gone I was feeling so off colour that I got in a panic and decided the best thing I could do was take a taxi to my aunt’s – you remember I told you about her? She was with ENSA but she’s married now to a major and they live in an apartment at the Dorchester. Luckily she was at home. I should have asked her to ring the hotel and leave a message.’
‘Yes, you should,’ June agreed, obviously not entirely placated, which made Lou feel even worse about lying to her, but Kieran had been insistent that a confidence shared with even one person was potentially no longer a confidence.
‘How are you feeling now?’ June’s initial coolness had thawed and she sounded genuinely concerned as she drew her knees up under the bedclothes and rested her arms on them, leaning forward to listen to what Lou was saying, her concern making Lou feel even more guilty about lying.
‘Tired,’ Lou told her truthfully, adding equally truthfully, ‘I’m really sorry that you’ve been worrying about me, June.’
‘That’s OK. I’m just relieved that you’re all right.’
The truth was that she was far from ‘all right’, Lou acknowledged later, breakfasting in the crowded ground-floor room along with June and some of the other girls. Whilst they were exchanging banter, raising their voices so that they could hear one another above the clatter of breakfast activity and talking about their night out, her mind was on the horrible situation she was in. She hated being deceitful, especially to such a good friend as June, but she had had no other option. Good friend though June was, Lou had been forced to admit to herself that if she knew where she’d been June would be bound to wonder if Lou’s night in Kieran’s bedroom was as innocent as it truthfully had been, because in June’s shoes she would probably have asked herself that question. Kieran was, after all, a very good-looking man, the kind of man who women noticed, the kind of man who a girl was highly unlikely to fall asleep on, should he take her back to his room. But it was different for her. For her, Kieran was part of Liverpool and home, and his behaviour towards her over the last twenty-four hours had reminded her of the elder brother superiority and bossiness that she remembered from her own brother, and that Kieran himself had so often exhibited towards both her and Sasha when they had both been desperately keen to have him think of them as dashing young women, not silly young girls.
Kieran’s parting words to her had been a groaned comment that she was causing him more trouble than all his own four siblings put together. Confirmation, had she needed it, of exactly how he thought of her. Not that she wanted him to think of her in any other way. Not for one minute. And if for some silly reason it had made her eyes sting with tears to wonder what it might be like to have Kieran treating one with the tenderness and adoration of a man towards the girl he loved, well then, that had just been silliness and obviously something to do with the pills in her drink.
‘Oh, Lena, he’s so beautiful. His little nose is just like Gavin’s, but otherwise he’s the image of Janette.’
Bella’s voice softened with emotion as she looked down at the three-week-old baby nestled in her arms, whilst Lena looked on in silence.
Little David Gavin was a lovely baby – David for Gavin’s late father and Gavin for Gavin himself. Lena had insisted on that, even though Gavin had protested, saying it would cause confusion. Lena had been so proud of her son, and so proud of the fact that Gavin was his father, that she had wanted the world to know it. That had been in the euphoric aftermath of the birth when she had managed to convince herself that everything was going to be all right and that it was just her imagination that things hadn’t seemed right between Gavin and herself. Then she had been remembering how Gavin had reacted to Janette’s birth, how tenderly he had looked at her, how wonderfully he had taken control, said that they were to get married and that Janette was to be his. Now with the new baby, his own baby, he had barely seemed to look at him. In fact, Lena had hardly seen him at all.
‘Work,’ he had told her brusquely, when Lena had made herself ask him why he was spending so much time away from the house. The port was so busy with incoming and outgoing convoys that they were all having to do overtime.
‘It isn’t because of the baby, is it?’ Lena had asked him worriedly. ‘I don’t want you half killing yourself with too much work because we’ve got an extra mouth to feed.’
Of course she had been hoping that he would laugh and say she was talking nonsense and that there was nothing he wanted more than a row of little mouths to feed, and their mother along with them, and she had been hurt when he hadn’t.
Even his mother had remarked on the change in him, putting it down to the war and the pressure it was putting on everyone.
Lena, though, knew better. She was the cause of Gavin’s grim manner and withdrawal into himself, she was sure. It was because of her that he came in late and went out early and hardly looked at little Davie, because he wished that he hadn’t married her.
Lena had always feared deep down inside herself that being loved by Gavin was too good to be true, that somehow there had been a mistake, that one day she would wake up and find out that he didn’t love her after all. Why should he? How could he when she was what she was: unwanted by her father’s Italian family, despised for her Italian blood by her mother’s side, thrown out by her mother’s sister because she had let Charlie have his way with her. Pregnant and unmarried. As an adult the spectres of what her life might have become if Bella hadn’t taken pity on her and rescued her were always there at the back of her mind, and Lena knew she would fight tooth and claw to protect her own daughter from the fate that could so easily have been hers. When she had fallen in love with Gavin, with his respectable family background, his decency and kindness, his good looks and sense of humour, she had hidden that love, feeling that he could only despise her. But then had come the miracle of him telling her that he loved not just her but baby Janette as well.
She had been so happy. Too happy?
She looked down at Davie. When Janette had been born Gavin had been besotted with her – her cot had been the first place he had gone when he came in from work – and Janette had returned his love, her first smile for him, her daddy, and not for Lena. Janette was a real daddy’s girl. Tears burned the backs of Lena’s eyes. She had been so thrilled to be carrying Davie, secretly hoping all along that she would have a boy, her gift to Gavin for his love for her and Janette, but Gavin scarcely paid any attention to Davie.
Reluctantly Bella handed Davie back to Lena. He was a strong and sturdy baby and in due course Lena would come back to work at the nursery, bringing both Janette and Davie with her. Lucky Lena to have two children. Bella opened her arms to Janette, who had decided that her new baby brother had had enough adult attention.
Just because she and Jan had not started a baby yet, that did not mean that there was anything to worry about, Bella reassured herself. They had scarcely had any time together, after all. And just because she had lost that first baby when she had been married to Alan, that didn’t mean that there would not be other babies, despite her mother’s old wives’ tales about ‘some women just not being able to carry a baby’. She wasn’t worried at all, really, Bella assured herself. It was just that seeing Lena with Davie made her feel a little envious, that was all. There was plenty of time for her and Jan to start a family. But what if there wasn’t? What if the unthinkable should happen? Jan was a Spitfire pilot who had already been shot down and taken prisoner once. What if…? But no, she must not think like that otherwise she’d start getting like her mother, who couldn’t so much as listen to a wireless news bulletin without working herself up into a dreadful state because Charlie was in action in Italy.
It wasn’t long now until Christmas, and Jan had written that he hoped to have some leave then. Mentally, Bella imagined the two of them sharing an intimate Christmas alone together, in a remote and romantic cottage, thatched and beamed, perhaps close to the South Coast, where Jan was based. There would be an open fireplace in the bedroom so that
they could lie snuggly in bed in one another’s arms. With any luck it would snow, heavily, and she and Jan would be snowed in…
That, of course, was just a dream. The reality was that, if Jan did get leave, they would spend Christmas at her mother’s, with her mother, who would allow them no privacy whatsoever, and of course they would have to make time to see Jan’s mother and sister as well – not that Bella objected to that. She liked her mother- and sister-in-law. It was just that the time they had together was so precious and so short-lived, and she so longed to be able to hold their own baby in her arms, a baby with Jan’s eyes and dark hair and Jan’s nose and mouth, and…Oh, Jan. She missed him so much.
SEVENTEEN
‘Marcus!’
Dropping the small last-minute extras she had gone out to buy ahead of her Christmas Eve journey to Whitchurch tomorrow morning, to spend Christmas with her family, Francine ran into her husband’s arms, her eyes shining with love and delight.
‘I wasn’t expecting you. Why didn’t you ring?’ she asked him. ‘I wouldn’t have gone out. How long—’
‘I didn’t ring because I found out only this morning that I’d be able to take some Christmas leave after all,’ Marcus interrupted her in a tender voice. ‘And as for how long – well, four days—’
‘Four days. Oh, Marcus, and I’ve gone and agreed to spend Christmas in Whitchurch, when we could have been together, just the two of us. I’ll telephone Grace and tell her that you’ve got leave and I won’t be going. She’ll understand.’
‘No, you can’t do that,’ Marcus told her, shaking his head as he kept her close to him, his arm wrapped around her slender waist. ‘Didn’t you say originally that Grace said there was room for us both?’