A Step In Time (11 page)

‘Well, there aren’t going to be many people there,’ I said. ‘Be nice to have some guests on my side of the church.’

‘It’ll be packed. Fat Joan’s invited everyone,’ Audrey said with a chuckle. She took my hand. ‘It’s going to be a lovely day.’

I nodded.

‘Do you know what? I think it is going to be lovely,’ I said, feeling a swell of excitement once more. I looked out of the window at the river, as we crossed Waterloo Bridge.

‘Did you imagine your wedding day when you were a little girl?’ I said.

Audrey nudged me.

‘Not really,’ she said. ‘My mum and dad were enough to put any girl off marriage for life.’

‘I used to play brides,’ I said, remembering. ‘I’d put a tea towel on my head, and pick flowers from the garden for my bouquet. And I’d draw pictures of beautiful ladies wearing beautiful dresses.’

‘Did they all look like Ginger Rogers?’ Audrey asked, with a smile.

‘Of course,’ I said. I paused. ‘I didn’t ever imagine my wedding would be like this, though. No family there. No wedding breakfast. No cake.’

I put my hand on my growing tummy. ‘And I never thought I’d be expecting when I walked down the aisle.’

‘I know it’s not perfect,’ Audrey said. ‘But you’ve got all of us there to wish you well. You’ve got a pretty dress. You’ve got me to stand by your side and give you a hanky if you cry. You’re bound to cry. And you know what else you’ve got? You’ve got Donnie.’

‘I have,’ I said. ‘But what if you were right. What if all men are like your dad and he’ll just leave me?’

‘He won’t,’ Audrey said calmly reaching over me to ring the bell. ‘I told you, he’s a good’un.’

He was a good’un, I thought, as we walked up Charing Cross Road to the boarding house. And the wedding would be perfect – or at least as perfect as it could be considering my groom would be leaving for France straight after the ceremony and we wouldn’t even get a wedding night. I couldn’t even let myself think about the fact that Donnie might never come back. I was just going to concentrate on the wedding day – and telling Henry that I was pregnant – before I worried about that. Not to mention breaking the news to my mother. I didn’t want to go back to Worthing to have the baby – though I was convinced she’d try to persuade me. I was hoping to leave for America as soon as I could to start my new life on the other side of the world. Donnie had said he was hoping to arrange things with his mum before he left, though things weren’t always easy to sort out in wartime.

‘It’s all going to be fine,’ I said out loud and Audrey linked her arm through mine.

‘Course it is,’ she said.

But it wasn’t.

Chapter Nineteen

‘Actually, he was really nice,’ I said to Donnie as we strolled arm in arm through Hyde Park the next day. ‘But it was rather embarrassing telling him about the baby.

I shuddered at the memory of telling Henry that not only was I getting married, but that I was expecting.

‘So did he say what you should do?’ Donnie asked.

‘I told him we’re hoping I can go to America fairly soon,’ I said. ‘And he says I can stay until then. If I can’t dance any more, I can sing.’

‘That’s great, honey,’ Donnie said, pulling me closer to him. ‘It’s all going to work out just fine. I’ve written to my mom explaining everything and I’ll let you have her address. Once I’m gone it’ll be better for you to make arrangements with her directly.’

I nodded.

‘But you’re sure she won’t mind?’ I said, biting my lip. ‘Some strange British girl turning up on her doorstep?’

‘But you’re not a strange British girl,’ Donnie said, grinning. ‘You’re my wife. Or at least you will be.’

‘I’ll be Mrs Cora Jackson,’ I said. ‘I’ve been practising my new signature.’

‘Not signature,’ said Donnie. ‘Autograph. You’ll be signing promotional photographs for your fans before you know it.’

‘You think we can still go to Hollywood?’ I said. ‘Even though things are going to be different now?’

‘Sure we can,’ Donnie said. ‘Movie stars have kids all the time. And you’ll be making so much money that we’ll hire people to look after Junior whenever you’re busy on set.’

I giggled. It sounded like the most wonderful pie in the sky idea I’d ever heard. I had no idea what looking after a baby was going to be like but, judging by Audrey’s brothers and sisters, it didn’t seem an easy job.

I sat down on a bench and tilted my face up to the spring sunshine, focusing on a patch of blue sky that wasn’t blighted by the barrage balloons that floated above London.

‘What’s it like there?’ I asked.

‘Hollywood?’ said Donnie, with a confidence that didn’t for one minute give away the fact that he’d never been to California. ‘Oh, it’s incredible. The sun always shines. The sea sparkles bright blue. The beaches have pure white sand …’

‘Sounds almost exactly like Worthing,’ I said, laughing at the memory of the grey Sussex skies, murky waters and stony beach.

Donnie gave me a stern look.

‘Do you want to hear about Los Angeles or not?’ he said, prodding me in the ribs.

‘Tell me about the trees,’ I said, even though I’d heard about them so many times I could picture them as clearly as if I’d lived my whole life in the Californian sunshine.

‘Palm trees,’ Donnie said. ‘Gently waving in the breeze. And movie producers on every street, just hanging out, waiting for the next big thing to arrive.’

‘So I’ll just stroll by one day,’ I said. ‘And one of these film chaps will be walking the other way, and he’ll see me and stop me?’

‘Exactly,’ said Donnie. He jumped to his feet and affected walking past me. Then he stopped and did an exaggerated double-take.

I raised my eyebrows.

‘Like that?’ I said.

‘Like that. He’ll take out his cigar – they all smoke cigars in LA – and he’ll say …’ He put on a drawling voice …

‘Darlin,’ you’re exactly who I need for my next picture.’

I gasped and fluttered my eyelashes.

‘Me?’ I said. ‘Little old me? Why, sir, I’d be delighted.’

‘See,’ Donnie said. ‘You’ll be a star as soon as we arrive.’

‘I’d better start practising my speech for all those awards I’m going to win,’ I said, giggling.

Donnie nodded gravely.

‘That would be wise,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to be stuck up on stage with nothing to say.’

‘You’re the only person I need to thank,’ I said, pulling him back down to sit next to me on the bench. I took his face in my hands.

‘I’d like to thank my husband, Donald,’ I said. ‘He’s made me the woman I am today and he’s always believed in me.’

Donnie kissed me softly.

‘Go on,’ he said, his face close to mine.

‘And I’d like to thank my daughter,’ I said.

Donnie frowned.

‘Or son.’

‘It’s a girl,’ I said. ‘I’m sure it’s a girl.’

‘You think?’

‘I’d like to thank my daughter,’ I said, looking into Donnie’s eyes. ‘Donaldina.’

‘Really?’ he said.

‘No, not really,’ I said. ‘But it’s the best I can come up with at the moment. Stop ruining it.’

I looked into his eyes again.

‘I don’t care, you know,’ I said. Donnie frowned.

‘Don’t care about what?’

‘About Hollywood,’ I said. ‘It’s a nice idea, of course it is. And what girl wouldn’t want to be a film star? But darling Donnie, you’re all I need. The films and the movie producers and the palm trees? None of that matters unless I’m with you.’

Donnie put his arm round me and pulled me into his chest.

‘Honey, you’re made for movies,’ he said.

I shrugged.

‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you and our baby. I’ll always be a dancer – that won’t change. But I can dance anywhere. I can teach, or I can do theatre. We’ll work something out.’

I looked up at him.

‘Just come home, Donnie,’ I said. ‘Just do whatever you have to do in France and come home to me.’

Donnie stroked my hair.

‘When I was in France before …’ he said, a catch in his voice. ‘When we were there last year, there was nothing for me to come home for.’

‘You had your family,’ I pointed out.

‘Sure I did,’ he said. ‘And of course I thought about my mom and dad, and my sister. But some of the other guys, they had sweethearts, you know? Girls they wrote to, and had pictures of. And now I have you. And knowing you’re here – or in Connecticut – waiting for me, is what’s going to get me through.’

He kissed the top of my head.

‘I love you, Cora,’ he said. ‘I know tomorrow isn’t going to be the wedding day you dreamed of, or the wedding day you deserve, but it’s going to be a wonderful day whatever happens.’

‘I know it is,’ I said. ‘Because it’ll be you and me, and we’ll be husband and wife.’

‘For ever,’ said Donnie. ‘Oh, shoot.’

‘What?’ I said, alarmed.

‘Look at the time,’ he said. He kissed me again. ‘I gotta go.’

‘I thought you had until four o’clock,’ I said, disappointed.

‘I do,’ Donnie said. ‘But I’ve got something to do before I head back.’

He laughed at my cross face.

‘Don’t be mad, honey,’ he said. ‘We’ve got our whole lives together.’

I was suddenly filled with a wave of pure joy that bubbled up and out of me in a delighted chuckle.

‘Go on, then,’ I said, giving him a good-natured shove. ‘Go and do your thing. See you at the church?’

‘I’ll see you at the church,’ he said. He stood up and twirled round, his arms outstretched.

‘We’re getting married,’ he shouted. Two soldiers walking nearby shook his hand and he laughed.

‘We’re getting married,’ he said again. He blew me a kiss. ‘See you tomorrow. I love you, Cora Cassidy!’

‘I love you, too! See you tomorrow,’ I shouted.

But I never saw him again.

Chapter Twenty

Cora may have looked like a sweet old lady, but as it turned out she was something of a slave driver.

The day after she’d offered to teach me how to dance, I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. It was the summer bank holiday – the very end of August – and I wasn’t meant to be meeting Patrick again until Tuesday. I was free for three glorious days. Three days of doing whatever I wanted. Which was … well, I wasn’t exactly sure. Phil was off entertaining Bertie and his stupid parents and while I usually spent bank holidays jetting off somewhere with Matty – and some carefully chosen photographers – that wasn’t exactly an option today.

I made myself a cup of tea and went out into the garden to drink it while I thought about what to do. Maybe I could go into town and do something I’d never done before. Visit a museum, perhaps. Or an art gallery? Or I could go and see a film. London was overflowing with things to do if you were a sad, lonely spinster like me.

Grumpily, I took a mouthful of tea. Actually, it was nice just sitting here in my little patch of backyard, in the early morning sun. Perhaps I could just stay here by myself all weekend. Relax. Watch some DVDs. Read a book. And not think about Patrick or bloody dancing for days.

‘Oh, good – you’re up.’ Cora’s voice behind made me jump. ‘Are you ready?’

I looked round. She was standing at the top of the stone steps that led down to my bit of garden, wearing a long black tunic and drapey yoga trousers.

‘Ready for what?’ I said over my shoulder.

Cora sighed.

‘For your dance lesson.’

I made a face that I hoped she couldn’t see.

‘Now?’

‘Are you busy?’

I looked at her again. She had a slight smile on her face.

‘Well,’ I said. ‘Not busy as such …’

‘Then we’ll do it now.’

‘But I’m not dressed.’

‘Half an hour, then.’

I knew when I was beaten. I drained my mug and stood up.

‘You’re mean,’ I said.

‘Trust me, darling,’ she said, spinning round and walking back towards her house. ‘I’ve not even started.’

And so, twenty-five minutes later, I was on my hands and knees in Cora’s lounge, rolling up the rug to expose the hard wooden floor, while she jabbed at my phone.

‘You’ll have to sort out the music,’ she said. ‘I can’t make head nor tail of this thing.’

I laughed. I was beginning to like Cora enormously, even if she was fairly terrifying.

‘Now,’ she said. ‘I am not as young as I used to be, and I’m afraid that, other than a few simple steps, my dancing days are behind me.’

I began to protest, but she waved her hand elegantly.

‘Oh, it’s fine,’ she said. ‘Thankfully, age hasn’t withered my wisdom.’

She gave me a cheeky look.

‘And you’re going to get the benefit of all of it.’

‘Lucky me,’ I said, making a face. But I meant it really. Cora was very interesting and I was keen to get to know her better.

‘So let’s start with what you know already,’ she said. ‘You’re starting with a cha-cha, yes?’

I nodded.

‘An interesting choice for a beginner,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘I think Patrick thought I was going to be better than I am,’ I admitted, scrolling through the songs on my phone until I found Bruno Mars. ‘I went to drama school, you know? I’m an actress. I can sing – not well, but I can carry a tune. I think he just assumed I would be a natural dancer, too.’

‘But you’re not?’

‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘Not even a bit. I can dance in a club, if I’ve had a drink, but having to remember steps in a certain order just seems to be beyond me.’

‘Let’s have a look,’ Cora said.

Reluctantly, I turned on the music and started to dance. I felt massively self-conscious and tried not to look at Cora as she sat watching me intently.

I struggled through the first part of the dance, just about, thinking about Patrick and how he always got cross with me at a certain bit, and how he looked at me in a way that really made me feel like he despised me. But then, just when I thought I was doing okay, I turned right instead of left, got muddled and gave up.

‘See?’ I said to Cora. ‘I’m completely hopeless.’

She stood up.

‘You’re not at all,’ she said. ‘Not in the slightest, actually.’

I felt a glimmer of hope.

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ she said. ‘You can hear the music, so that’s a start. You’ve got natural timing and rhythm – that’s perfect because I find it very hard to teach that to someone who can’t understand it.’