Читать книгу GI BRIDES – June’s Story: Exclusive Bonus Ebook - Duncan Barrett - Страница 6

Borgy was as good as his word, and one day a couple of weeks later, June arrived home from work to find him sitting at the bar. He was enjoying a beer on the house and chatting to her parents, who were both laughing heartily at everything he said.

‘Hi, June!’ Borgy said, turning to smile at her. ‘Can I get you something?’

‘Erm, why don’t we go somewhere else?’ she suggested.

‘Sure. You’re the boss,’ Borgy replied, downing the dregs of his beer and following her to the door. ‘Thank you, ma’am, sir,’ he called to her parents.

‘Any time, Borgy,’ replied Mr Baker. ‘You and your friends are always welcome at the Lister Tavern.’

There was only one place June considered smart enough for an American, and that was the Midland Hotel. Located by Birmingham New Street Station, not far from the cathedral, it was an elegant Victorian building with a grand marble staircase and a stylish lounge bar.

June glowed with pride as she walked into the hotel on the arm of her American. Sitting in the salubrious surrounds of the lounge she felt almost as if she were one of the Hollywood starlets she had idolised for so long.

Borgy bought their drinks, and when he went to pay June noticed he had an astonishing amount of cash on him. The Americans’ salaries were far higher than those of British soldiers, so they could afford to splash out on dates.

Borgy handed the bartender a large note, which made the man tut in annoyance – but his face soon lit up when Borgy told him, ‘Keep the change.’

Borgy was a true gentleman, once again pulling out June’s chair for her, standing up respectfully when she rose to go to the lavatory and paying her little compliments. She had certainly never met an English boy with such good manners, nor been made to feel so special before.

He was also so much more laid-back and open than the English people she knew, and he exuded a kind of warmth that she noticed made everyone around him more relaxed. I wonder if all Americans are like this, she thought.

On the way home, Borgy and June held hands, and just before they came into sight of her parents’ pub, he turned and kissed her. June felt as if she was in a love scene in one of her favourite movies.

Soon, Borgy was a regular visitor to the Lister Tavern, always coming to call for June on his days off. And his wasn’t the only GI uniform to be seen around the city, now that US bases had opened at Sutton Coldfield and other nearby towns. Whenever the GIs got leave they would be bussed into Birmingham, to make the most of the nightlife, and they were arriving in increasing numbers.

One day, when June returned from work, her mother told her that Borgy had come into the pub hoping to see her. ‘He came to say goodbye, love,’ she told June. ‘He’s been sent down south.’

June was disappointed to hear that her American had left, and upset not to have had a chance to say goodbye. But she wasn’t down in the dumps for long, since there was now no shortage of other GIs to distract her. Her best friend Margaret had discovered that the Americans’ favourite hangout was the Grand Casino, a beautiful former theatre that was being used as a dance hall, and she suggested they go there one Saturday night.

Thanks to rationing, June’s wardrobe was woefully inadequate, but luckily one of her mum’s friends had given her a pretty skirt suit with a sash waist that she no longer wanted. That Saturday June put on the suit, applied a layer of Max Factor ‘Pan-Cake’ make-up, drew a line up the back of each leg with eyeliner to give the illusion that she was wearing stockings, and set out to catch the bus to the Grand Casino.

‘Mind you’re back by closing time,’ her dad warned as she left.

Outside the dance hall, a long queue had already formed, and June could see many GIs among its number, slouching against the wall and chewing gum. Margaret greeted her excitedly and they joined the back of the line.

At the entrance, men were sent to the right and ladies to the left, passing through a long corridor to the cloakrooms and then meeting again in the former auditorium, which was decorated in elegant crimson and gold. Tables and chairs were scattered around, and there were big columns against which several GIs were leaning nonchalantly.

The band was playing American swing-style music, and the theatre’s enormous stage was now the dance floor. As June looked up onto it, she could see local girls partnered with Americans, performing a manic dance in which their feet barely seemed to touch the ground. Every now and then the men threw the girls out away from them and then pulled them, spinning, back into their embrace. Some even threw their partners behind them so that they literally rolled off their backs. June was fascinated, and not a little horrified.

‘It’s called the jitterbug,’ Margaret said, seeing her staring in awe.

After watching for some time, and with a couple of shandies inside them, June and Margaret braved the stage with a pair of GIs. Like her parents, June was a natural dancer, and with her confident American partner leading the way she soon found herself hot-footing it around the stage with the best of them, although she refrained from any of the more acrobatic manoeuvres. The jitterbug was so exhilarating that June couldn’t get enough of it, and she kept going back up onto the stage over and over again with different GIs. Being surrounded by crowds of Americans, she was in pure heaven, and she never wanted the night to end.

Suddenly, she noticed the time: it was twenty to ten, and she was about to miss her bus. ‘Oh my God – I’ve got to go!’ she cried.

June raced to the bus stop, but to her dismay the bus was drawing away just as she arrived. She remembered her father’s words, and knew that if she waited for another one to come along, she would never get home by 10 p.m. There was only one thing for it: she would have to run all the way home.

It wasn’t easy running in her heels, but June was still so high from jitterbugging that she felt she was almost flying down the road. As the bus made its first stop, June wasn’t far behind it, and by the time it made its second, right by the Lister Tavern, June was there to meet it. She sauntered into the pub just as it was closing, and her father nodded approvingly, assuming, just as she had hoped, that she had made the bus.

After her first taste of dancing with the Americans, June couldn’t stay away, and soon she and Margaret were going to the Grand Casino almost every night after work. She was barely ever home, except to sleep, and she couldn’t have been happier.

The Midland Hotel had also become something of a GI hangout, and on the nights when they weren’t jitterbugging away, June and Margaret could be found in the hotel’s lounge. The girls were soon being invited on double dates and quickly discovered that spending time with the GIs had other benefits apart from the inevitable jitterbugging. Thanks to the US Army Post Exchange, or ‘PX’, they could buy all manner of things that the Brits had been unable to get under rationing – as well as some things they had never known they’d been missing. Silk stockings, nail polish, perfume, lipstick, cigarettes, chewing gum, Hershey bars, Snickers, Life Savers and even oranges – which were so scarce in England that they could only be bought once a month for children and pregnant women – were among the items they doled out.

The men showered June with the traditional GI gifts, but there was only one thing she really wanted from each of them: the metal rank insignia that they wore on their uniforms. After extracting the little tokens from her various suitors she began making a charm bracelet out of them, which she wore proudly at all times.

After the Midland Hotel and the Grand Casino closed for the evening, June would sometimes take her American friends back to her parents’ pub, for one of her dad’s lock-ins, so that the fun could continue. The black-out drapes proved to be a handy way of disguising these late-night drinking sessions, and although June had avoided spending time in the pub before, now that the Americans were there it felt like a different place.

Before long, the Lister Tavern was being frequented by many GIs, much to Mr and Mrs Baker’s delight. A salt seller on the bar was the usual giveaway that a pub had become Yank-friendly – the Americans found British beer unpalatable, particularly in its watered-down wartime variety, and would often add salt or shots of whisky to make it taste better.

When they found out Mr Baker was a cigar smoker, some of the Americans began turning up with cigars for him, as well as packets of cigarettes for Mrs Baker. One young officer June brought back to the pub, Woody, even turned up with some brand-new shoes from the PX for her dad, having heard him complain that he didn’t have enough ration coupons to buy a pair. ‘You bring back as many Americans as you like, love!’ her father said happily.

However, he was still as strict as ever about timekeeping, and if June arrived even a few minutes after ten he would give her an earful.

One evening, June and Margaret were out in town when a couple of American officers came up to them.

‘Hey, girls, wanna go to a dance?’ one of them asked. He was tall and handsome, and June was already eyeing up the insignia on his jacket for her charm bracelet. ‘It’s back on the base, but we got transportation,’ he told them.

‘I promised my parents I wouldn’t be late tonight,’ said Margaret sadly.

‘I’ll come!’ said June. She wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity to go to a real American army base.

Soon June and a group of other girls the officers had picked up were being driven out of town in a bus. At the base, the party was in full swing and the place was swarming with GIs and girls, all dancing with even more enthusiasm than they did at the Grand Casino. June was in her element as she and the tall, dark officer, whose name turned out to be Chuck, joined the rest of the crowd.

When the band took a rest, a compere came onto the stage to draw a raffle. ‘I got you a ticket,’ Chuck said, handing June a little blue paper ticket with the number 476 on it.

‘Ooh, thank you!’ she said.

‘Number thirty-two. Thirty-two,’ said the man on the stage, and a blonde girl jumped up and down squealing with excitement. She rushed up onstage, where she was presented with a pair of silk stockings.

‘Look what I got!’ she cried, when she returned to her friends, and they all reached over to touch the soft material.

Next, a girl won a bottle of bright-red nail varnish and returned brandishing it proudly.

‘And now,’ said the compere, ‘whichever guy is with the girl who wins this prize is going to be the luckiest one of the night. Number 476 come up to the front!’

June gaped in astonishment as she realised it was her number. ‘You won, sugar!’ Chuck said, ushering her up. Suddenly feeling very shy, June stepped up onto the stage, where she was presented with a skimpy two-piece swimsuit. The term bikini had not yet been coined, but in America the designs had already begun shrinking.

A big ‘Woooo!’ went up from the crowd and June blushed as she returned to Chuck – who was being clapped on the back by the men around him. June couldn’t imagine herself ever wearing the swimsuit, but that didn’t dampen her excitement. As she clutched it, she kept thinking: oh my God, this is from America!

Elated by her win, she and Chuck danced all night, and were among the last to leave the hangar. But to June’s horror, she discovered she had missed the army bus back. ‘What am I going to do?’ she asked Chuck, terrified at the thought of her dad’s fury if she was late home.

‘Sorry, doll, you’ll just have to stay here tonight,’ he replied. ‘I’ll sneak you into my room.’

June wasn’t the only girl to have miscalculated, and that night four of them slept in the men’s quarters. June shared a bed with one of the girls, while Chuck chivalrously took the floor. But all night she cursed herself for what she had done. Here she was, in a strange man’s room, with no way of letting her parents know she was safe. She dreaded to think what her father would say.

In the morning, the girls were bussed back into Birmingham and dropped off one by one. June was the last to get home, and when she arrived her dad exploded at her. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he shouted. ‘We’ve been up all night waiting for you!’

Then he spied the string of the swimsuit that June had stuffed into her coat pocket.

‘What’s this?’ he demanded, pulling on it. Out came the bra of the skimpy two-piece, which Mr Baker held aloft in horror.

‘Have you been prancing around in this all night?!’ he asked, furious.

‘No, Dad!’ cried June. ‘I just won it in a raffle!’

‘Well, that’s the last you’ll see of it. Now get to your room.’

June ran upstairs, feeling both mortified and desperately sad to have lost her little piece of America.

One night at the Grand Casino, as June and Margaret were sitting at a table watching the dancers up on the stage, a couple of GIs approached them. One was dark and one was fair, and June’s face lit up as she saw the captains’ insignia on their jackets.

‘Hey, miss, wanna dance?’ the dark-haired one asked her.

June was mesmerised by his eyes, which were so dark and twinkling that they seemed to be glowing. His hair was such a dark brown it was almost black, he was manly and muscular, and she guessed he was a few years older than her.

‘Yes, please,’ she replied shyly.

She and Margaret followed the men up onto the stage, and soon she was jitterbugging across the floor faster than she ever had before. The GI was a great dancer, and he kept shouting words of encouragement that made June giggle, especially since he had a strong New Jersey accent.

‘That’s it, doll!’ he called. ‘You show ’em how it’s done!’

When they finally returned to their table, June was out of breath from dancing and laughing. Margaret and her GI, whose name was Ed, were already there, and looked like they were getting very friendly.

‘Say, I never asked your name,’ her dance partner said.

‘June,’ she replied.

‘My name’s Michael, and I think you need a drink.’

June giggled again as she watched him go off to the bar. She caught Margaret’s eye and they both shot each other an excited smile.

For the rest of the evening, June was glued to Michael’s side. She learned that he was from Elizabeth – ‘Just across the water from Staten Island’ – and that he came from an Italian-American family. Michael was the most talkative American she’d ever gone out with, even more so than her first GI, Borgy, and once again her partner’s chattiness was the perfect complement to her own shy personality. He seemed to talk at a million miles an hour, and with his funny accent she felt she could listen to him all night long.

June and Michael started going to the Odeon together – something she hadn’t done with the other GIs – and she almost had to pinch herself to believe that she was watching her favourite Hollywood movie stars with her own real-life American by her side. When he kissed her under cover of darkness she found she didn’t even care if she missed what was happening on the screen.

June was crazy about Michael, and now she barely looked at the other GIs. Margaret, too, had met a GI who she was really falling for. His name was Hank and he was tall and good-looking. He and Margaret were soon joined at the hip. Both the girls were blissfully happy.

But one day, June met Margaret after work, only to find her friend’s face red and tear-stained. ‘Hank stood me up!’ she cried. ‘We were meant to meet at the Midland Hotel, but he never showed.’

‘Oh Margaret, I’m sorry,’ said June, giving her a hug. ‘Maybe it was just a misunderstanding.’

But as the days and weeks went by, Hank never got in touch again.

Margaret wasn’t the only one to have her heart broken by a Yank. The girls who hung around the Grand Casino and the Midland Hotel often shared stories of GIs who had romanced them and then done a disappearing act – and when they had asked around they sometimes discovered the men were married or even had children back home in America. ‘They just want a bit of company while they’re here, but that’s all it is to them,’ said one of the girls bitterly.

June thanked her lucky stars that she had met a guy as genuine as Michael. But Margaret’s love affair with the GIs was over. ‘I’m never dating another Yank!’ she proclaimed.

June thought she was mad – how could she ever go out with a boring English bloke after the Americans?

Margaret was determined, however, and soon she was dating an English man who worked in the bank. June couldn’t understand it – he seemed so dull and stodgy compared to the GIs.

Margaret no longer wanted to join her at the Grand Casino, and inevitably they began to drift apart.

Michael usually came to call for June at her parents’ pub on the weekends and whenever he had leave. Since they didn’t have a phone, it was the only way for them to get hold of one another. But one Saturday he still hadn’t shown up by mid-morning.

June came downstairs for the umpteenth time to check for him. ‘Are you sure he hasn’t been in for me?’ she asked her mum.

‘No, sorry, love,’ came the reply. June went back up to her bedroom and perfected her make-up. Then she came downstairs again, but still there was no sign of Michael.

June waited all day long in vain, and that night she cried herself to sleep. In the weeks that followed, she didn’t hear from Michael, and she began to realise that, just like Hank, he had done a disappearing act. Perhaps he too had a wife and family back home, and had just been after a bit of company to fill his time. She had no way of knowing. After all, while they were in England, away from family and friends, the GIs could be whoever they wanted to be.

‘You shouldn’t bother with the Americans any more,’ Margaret told her. But June wasn’t like her friend – she couldn’t imagine dating anyone else now.

The problem was, the available pool of GIs was shrinking rapidly. As D-Day loomed, they were all being sent south in preparation for the invasion of occupied Europe. Before they left, many of them proposed to the girls they had been dating, and some even made it to the altar.

To June’s horror, American uniforms were becoming increasingly rare on the streets of Birmingham, and one day they were gone completely. There were no more GIs propping up the bar in her parents’ pub, no loud American voices in the street, and no more jitterbugging at the Grand Casino.

All over the country, people shared a sense of loss as they realised that the breezy young men who had raised their wartime spirits were suddenly gone, perhaps never to return. Some found boxes of fruit or tinned goods on their doorsteps, left by American friends who felt too sad to ring the doorbell to say goodbye.

As the Americans departed, a kind of hush settled over the communities where they had made their presence felt so strongly. Over time the Brits had grown used to their strange new friends, and many missed them more than they would ever have expected.

June felt she had lost her one opportunity to escape from miserable Birmingham and a dreary life helping out at her parents’ pub. If only one of the GIs she had dated had proposed to her, she would have been on her way to America soon, she thought. But it was too late for that now. Instead, she would have to settle for a life of compromise, with a boring English husband.