Читать книгу Christmas for the District Nurses - Annie Groves, Annie Groves - Страница 10

Peggy smiled as she caught sight of Belinda being swirled around the dance floor. Her partner was in a Canadian uniform and the top of his head reached as far as the tall nurse’s ear, but he was full of enthusiasm and she seemed to be having a good time. At least he was keeping to the right beat. It was too bad when you were asked for a dance and the man turned out to have two left feet.

The place was crowded and the air felt hot, despite the coolness of the winter evening outside. Peggy took a moment to compose herself. She had had three different dance partners so far, all of whom had been perfectly polite, friendly even, but she did not feel inclined to seek out any of them again. She didn’t want to give them false hope. She was interested only in dancing, nothing more. She patted her light brown hair into something like its intended shape.

Clarrie whirled by, the skirt of her bias-cut frock flaring out just as it was meant to, emphasising the shape of her calves. In this light, and moving at that speed, nobody would notice that the hem was frayed and the seams much mended. It had lasted for several dance seasons, and would have to last for many more unless the war ended soon. They all knew how unlikely that was.

Peggy grinned and shook her head as Clarrie raised her eyebrows at her and cocked her head a little to one side. She knew it was shorthand for ‘Are you going to dance with any of them again?’ Clarrie could be very protective, which Peggy appreciated, but she still didn’t want to accept a second dance with any of the young men.

She was in no hurry to get back on to the dance floor. Sometimes it was more fun to watch, guessing who was going to dance with whom, or trying to recognise anybody she had met here before. The music was lively and she tapped her feet along with the rhythm, almost without realising it. She knew most of the tunes from hearing them on the wireless, which was on full blast throughout her shifts at the factory.

‘You look as if you like the music.’

A voice sounded from just behind her, and she turned to meet the eyes of a man who was clearly a GI from his uniform. The Americans had begun to arrive now their country had entered the war good and proper and already some people resented their presence, but Peggy had nothing against them. He was taller than her, perhaps by a head. He was slimly built but she could tell he was fit from the curves of his muscles beneath his olive shirt. Something about the way he held himself made her think that he would be a good dancer.

‘Want to have a spin?’ He smiled, and his expression was bright, almost teasing. She thought his accent might be from New York – or as far as she could tell from watching Broadway Melody more than once at the local Odeon. His skin was a warm brown colour, a couple of shades lighter than his eyes, which sparkled as they fixed on her.

Suddenly the idea of standing at the edge and watching the entertainment was not as compelling. ‘Yes, all right,’ she said after a moment. It didn’t do to seem too keen.

His smile broadened as if he knew exactly why she’d made him wait, then he opened his arms and she stepped into them. She fitted exactly. As he began to move to the first notes of the new song, she knew she’d made the right choice. He was an excellent dancer – not flashy, but naturally assured. He made her seem as if she was far more accomplished than she’d ever been before.

‘Do I pass the test?’ he asked lightly, never missing a beat.

This time she didn’t pause. ‘You do,’ she said, tipping her head back and laughing in surprised delight.

‘Oh, I don’t want to go home yet.’ Peggy’s voice was full of regret. ‘Go on, Clarrie, stay for another song. Just one more.’ She gazed soulfully at the entrance to the dance hall as they lingered by the chilly cloakroom.

Clarrie shrugged into her big winter coat with the astrakhan collar. ‘No can do, Peggy. It’s my sister’s last day at home tomorrow and it’s all hands on deck to make her a Sunday roast to remember and give her a proper family send-off. She’ll have my guts for garters if I oversleep and ruin it.’

Belinda shivered theatrically as she pulled on her own big coat. ‘I’ll be too late for curfew but I can get in through the back fence and the common room window. Mary’s going to make sure it’s unlocked. I don’t want to push it too far, though, or they’ll think I’m taking the mickey.’ She buttoned up her cardigan all the way to the neck. ‘Good evening, wasn’t it? I think you’ve made a conquest, Peggy.’ She nodded to the group of American soldiers to one side of the entrance.

Peggy raised her eyebrows. She knew she should deny it and play along, but life was too short – she of all people should know that. ‘He was a lovely dancer,’ she said, keeping her voice as neutral as she could. ‘We only had a couple of turns though.’

‘Six or seven, more like,’ Clarrie said at once.

‘Ooh, who’s counting?’ Peggy didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed that her best friend had noted exactly how much of the evening she’d spent in the soldier’s arms. ‘Anyway they’ll all be off soon, so nothing will come of it. They’re just passing through.’ More’s the pity, she thought.

She fiddled with her clip-on earring; it had become tangled in her hair, which she had worn loose for once. It wasn’t a valuable earring, just paste, but she liked it – it was one of a pair Pete had given her for a birthday years before. She didn’t want to lose it. God knew she had little enough to remember him by.

‘Peggy?’

She was shaken from her memories by the voice at her side. It was the soldier.

‘You want me to walk you home?’ His voice was warm. ‘I’d be happy to do so.’ He gave a small grin.

‘No … no, you don’t need to bother. I’m with my friends.’ She nodded across to where Clarrie and Belinda were tying on their scarves.

‘It’s no bother.’ His smile grew and she had a sharp feeling of certainty that he meant it. Her knees weakened at that voice and those melting eyes. But he was just passing through.

‘Thanks, though.’ She wanted to prolong the moment a little longer.

‘Peggy, come on, we have to get the late bus,’ Clarrie called. People were milling all around them, all keen to catch the transport while they had the chance. The building was noisy, its once-smart gold paint now cracked and shabby in the dull light.

The soldier nodded. ‘You got good friends. I’m glad, cos I wouldn’t want no harm to come to you.’ He reached into his uniform pocket and brought out a small notebook and pencil. ‘Can I write to you, Peggy? Will you write to me? I’ll put down my address here, so you don’t forget me. The name’s James, in case that’s slipped your mind already.’

‘I don’t …’ Peggy was going to protest that there was no point, they’d had a fun evening and that was that, but then she asked herself what harm could it do? Maybe he would come through London again. He might be one of the lucky ones. ‘Yes, all right,’ she said. ‘Here, give me that, I’ll write it down.’ She hastily scribbled down the address of the house in which she lived with Pete’s mother, wondering if it was a betrayal of her late husband.

‘I’ll be sure to take good care of it,’ James assured her, tucking the notebook back into his pocket. ‘You do the same, now.’ His eyes flashed with good humour.

‘Peggy, come on!’ Clarrie was losing patience.

‘I’d better go.’ Peggy felt rooted to the spot. The noise of the crowds seemed like miles away; even the irritated sound of her best friend couldn’t pierce the shell around the pair of them.

‘Be seeing you,’ said James lightly, but in such a way that she knew he meant it. ‘I hope so anyway. So long now.’

‘So long.’ Peggy took a step away, raising her hand in a silly wave. She watched him turn and rejoin his friends, then was conscious of Clarrie tugging on her arm, and the spell was broken. ‘Yes, yes, coming, don’t fuss.’

The three young women hurried from the dance hall, along with scores of others, many in uniform, all buzzing from their night out. The bus stop was only a short distance away and, judging from the number of people there already, one must be due any moment.

‘Thank God for that, I hate waiting around in the cold after going dancing,’ grumbled Clarrie.

‘I know what you mean,’ Peggy muttered absently, her thoughts elsewhere.

‘Yes, you got quite overheated there,’ Clarrie said, raising her eyebrows.

‘Stop it. I was only having a bit of fun. You were dancing with plenty of men yourself – in fact the pair of you were.’ Peggy felt around for the small page from the notebook in her pocket.

Belinda chuckled. ‘Well, that’s why we came out, isn’t it? There were a few decent dancers there. Most of them a bit short for me, though. I don’t think I’ll ever find a man tall enough.’

‘What’s that game they play over there? Basketball, isn’t it? You need a basketball player,’ Clarrie said with certainty. ‘Look, isn’t that our bus? Quick, head for the top deck.’

Swiftly they climbed onto the bus and up the stairs, finding three seats together at the back.

‘What was that last song you were dancing to?’ Clarrie demanded, her eyes sharp as she observed Peggy’s response.

Peggy looked down at her hands. ‘“Whispering Grass”,’ she said slowly.

‘That’s by the Ink Spots, isn’t it? Your favourites.’

‘That’s right.’ Peggy’s mouth curved in a slight smile. They were her favourite singers and that was their best song. She’d never had the chance to dance to it with Pete but had often imagined doing so. She stared out of the window at the dim shapes just visible in the blackout and hummed the tune to herself, oblivious to Belinda and Clarrie’s teasing. They could say what they liked. This had been an evening to remember.