Читать книгу The Secret of Summerhayes - Merryn Allingham, Merryn Allingham - Страница 13

She was tempted by the dance, she couldn’t deny it. Whenever she’d had the opportunity, she had loved to dance, but she was unsure of leaving Mrs Summer in Ripley’s care. It was true the old lady had seemed more settled in recent days. Elizabeth was no longer a name on her lips and she appeared to have forgotten the letters. Beth had continued to keep a sharp eye out for the postman, collecting any mail from the panelled hall immediately it arrived, but there had been no further alarms. She began to hope that the letters had stopped, though why they should have done was as much a mystery as to why they’d begun in the first place. But although Alice had recovered her placidity, leaving her for an entire evening was a step in the dark and Beth hesitated. Mr Ripley, though, when she talked to him, seemed unfazed by the idea and assured her that he and the mistress would be fine.

‘Just put her to bed, Miss Merston, and I’ll read to her. Or we’ll listen to the wireless together. And I’ll make sure she gets her nightcap.’

‘I’m not certain when the dance will finish. It could be late.’

‘It’s no matter. Once she’s asleep, I’ll leave her in peace and doze in here.’ They were in the sitting room. ‘You deserve a bit of a break. I know it’s not easy.’

‘Mrs Summer is no problem.’ And to be honest, she wasn’t. It was the unvarying nature of their daily routine that could be wearisome.

The old man shook his head knowingly. ‘She is and she isn’t. It were always the same. Mind you, it were her husband who were the real problem. Old Summer could be a hard man, though a fair enough employer. But Mrs Summer was always fidgeting over the household arrangements, never quite telling you what she wanted. I don’t think half the time she knew herself. It fair drove Mrs Lacey and me to distraction.’ Since this was very much what May had said, Beth could well believe him. ‘But you leave her to me, I can deal with her.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised him.

‘Mind you do more than think about it.’

It was a kind offer but it wasn’t only Alice preying on her mind. If she went to the dance, what should she do about Gilbert’s offer? Probably accept it. It was just a lift. He could have no personal interest in her; he had a wife for heaven’s sake. But when they’d first met, his handshake had lasted just a little too long and, several times since then, she’d surprised him gazing intently at her. But she was allowing her imagination to become lurid. The offer of a lift wasn’t a date, and the dance itself was simply to welcome the Canadians to the village.

They were another problem, of course. Why did she keep finding problems? Eddie was certain to be there. He wouldn’t be able to resist the fun, and he’d take plenty of comrades along with him. If Jos Kerrigan were one, he most definitely wouldn’t be fun, and she didn’t fancy dancing her heart out while he scowled from the fringe. She was sure that Eddie would try to persuade him into going, but the more she thought of it, the more certain she became that he would fail. Lieutenant Kerrigan was unlikely to be a man who’d enjoy a village hop. And the thought of dancing, of throwing off the dreary pattern of wartime life for just one evening, was intoxicating. She weighed up the arguments.

She would go. She would go and enjoy herself despite the fact that her one best dress had faded slightly in the wash and her second best pair of shoes were scuffed at the heel. She feared the sole was coming loose, too – all the more reason to give them one last outing. Her frock and shoes were dowdy, but at least she could make something of her hair. Instead of tying its length at the nape of her neck she would pin it up, winding it into soft layers and pulling down a few tendrils to frame her face. While Alice slept that afternoon, she practised and after several unsatisfactory attempts, managed something with which she was happy. A puff of powder and a smudge of lipstick and she would be fine. No one would notice her dress. Outside, the blackout reigned and once inside the village hall, the lighting would be mercifully dim. She would dispense with Gilbert’s lift, she decided, and walk there by torchlight. That way, she would feel in no way bound to stay with him for the evening.

Her plan went like clockwork. Alice was amenable to being put to bed ahead of time and for once seemed excited by the evening ahead. She had demanded that Ripley bring the pack of playing cards and was looking forward to gin rummy and to beating her old butler. It was doubtful how accurately either of them would decipher the cards, but Beth was sure they would enjoy the sparring. She laid out the tray for the nightly cocoa, and a small plate of biscuits for them both. Before she left, she did a last twirl in front of the half mirror that was all her bedroom offered, and thought she looked passable. Her hair was positively elegant. Everything had gone swimmingly, so why was her stomach clenched tight? It must be that she’d become so unused to social occasions that taking herself to one felt as though she were climbing a very high mountain. But climb she did and, flashing her torch from side to side along the country lane, she reached the village without mishap. It was fortunate that all military activity had been suspended that evening. She would have hated to be forced again into a ditch and ruin the one decent outfit she possessed.

From the moment she reached the top of the main street, she could hear the music. A swing band was playing and they were surprisingly good. She found herself walking to the rhythm of the notes, the music growing louder as she made her way down the street and turned left into the narrow alley that led to the village green and the hall at its western edge. She was brought up short by seeing a sizeable group of soldiers gathered outside the building. All of them were carefully groomed and pressed, their shoulder flashes bearing the single word Canada, and their uniforms barely distinguishable from their British counterparts’, except for a better material and a more stylish cut. She was unsure whether or not to go on, and the men seemed equally uncertain, loitering outside the entrance. Then the door was flung open and May stood on the threshold. Several young girls in their best frocks appeared in the doorway beside her.

‘Bethany, you’ve come.’ Her friend peered through the darkness at her. ‘It’s good to see you. And you chaps,’ she said to the hesitating soldiers, ‘do come in.’

‘Yes, please come in. We need you to get the dance going,’ one of the girls said. And that seemed sufficient invitation for the men to throw away their cigarettes and a trifle sheepishly allow themselves to be escorted inside.

The red, white and blue bunting used on the village green for every Empire Day since the turn of the century had been strung from beam to beam along the walls and across the ceiling. It gave the hall the look of a liner about to set sail. The old-fashioned wall brackets had been draped with branches of forsythia, and the lights shining through the foliage bounced a bright yellow around the walls and splashed the floor with colour. Each wooden board had been brought to sparkling life, every inch diligently polished with beeswax from the local hives. That must have hurt a few knees, was Beth’s first thought.

May pressed a glass of homemade lemonade into her hand. ‘Nothing stronger, I’m afraid. Not at the moment. The men are sure to produce something more exciting once they relax.’

‘They do seem a little stiff.’

‘Shy, would you believe? But the lasses will untie their tongues.’

She wondered what else would be untied during the evening. Already several of the young women wore flushed faces and one of them sported a blouse half unbuttoned from her exertions.

‘Great to see you, Miss Merston. I hoped you’d come.’

It was Eddie Rich, freshly laundered, and looking as handsome as a Greek god. She glanced in the direction from which he’d come and saw Jos Kerrigan standing in the shadow of a supporting pillar, his face devoid of expression.

Eddie took hold of her hand. ‘And you’re tapping your feet already. Definitely time to dance.’ She was reluctant to agree; it was just what she’d feared, having to dance beneath an unfriendly gaze. But before she could refuse, Eddie had propelled her onto the dance floor where the band had changed rhythm and was playing a quickstep. For several seconds, she felt her feet fumbling for the steps, but he was an excellent dancer and it took only a short while for her to be skimming smoothly across the polished floor.

‘Hey, you’re a real shincracker, Miss Merston.’

‘A good dancer? I’ve a very good partner. And please call me Beth. Miss Merston is beginning to sound odd.’

‘Beth it is,’ he said, steering her around the curve of the dance floor and narrowly missing a frowning Jos. She looked up at her partner and smiled. In this light, Eddie’s eyes were almost golden. He was impossibly good looking, but he posed no threat to her peace of mind and she felt herself relax into his friendly clasp.

‘I hoped you’d find time to come tonight,’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see a familiar face.’

‘I’ll always find time for dancing.’

‘Even after today’s exercise?’

‘It was tiring, sure, but we’re pretty well settled at Summerhayes now. It’s beginning to feel like home. But you didn’t bring Ralph with you and I was looking forward to seeing him.’

‘I didn’t mention the dance to him, but in any case I doubt he’d be allowed to come.’

‘That’s a pity, but it won’t stop us. And if my ear is tuned right, the fun’s just beginning. It’s the jitterbug.’

‘You dance that?’

‘Don’t I just. And if you don’t know it, I’ll teach you.’

And when the band began to play, she found herself being pushed this way and that, twisting and turning to the beat, so that in a short time she was completely breathless. ‘I shall be begging for mercy any moment,’ she said, tipping her head back and laughing aloud.

‘No mercy. Not from this guy.’ Eddie, too, was laughing.

But when the jitterbug music faded and the band segued into a foxtrot, Eddie whirled her towards the side of the room. Only fair, she thought. There must be plenty of girls he wanted to dance with, and she couldn’t cling to him as her one and only friend of the evening.

Small groups of soldiers were gathered around the edge of the dance hall, talking, smoking, some drinking. She noticed that several bottles of whisky had made their appearance alongside the lemonade. The evening could be heading towards rowdiness, and that would be the time to leave. Skilfully, Eddie weaved a path through the slow-moving couples, pivoting her across miraculously opened spaces to the very edge of the dance floor. With one last twirl, he bumped her to the side of the room and into Jos Kerrigan. Kerrigan’s face remained impassive, his features moving not a jot, even when a warm Beth was spun into his arms. But instinctively he put out his hands to catch her.