A Step In Time (24 page)

‘No idea,’ he said. ‘But we can find out.’

We spent the rest of the afternoon researching Donnie’s death. Patrick tracked down more military records that confirmed he definitely had been killed in London on that date – for a while we thought we were wrong – and I found my iPad and set about finding out what could have happened.

‘Listen to this,’ I said to Patrick as I found out something interesting. ‘I thought the Blitz was it when it came to bombs, but there were things called V1 and V2 bombs that the Germans used right at the end of the war. South London was very badly hit, and there were some in central London, too.’

‘See if you can find one that fell on the right date,’ Patrick said.

I put the date and V2 into Google and there it was. A direct hit on Tottenham Court Road that killed ten people.

‘Look,’ I said, turning the screen to show Patrick. ‘A bomb blast in London, on the right day, that killed lots of people.’

‘That could be it,’ he said. ‘Let’s see if we can find out more about it.’

It took us ages but we eventually found out the details thanks to a report of the last months of the war we found on the Imperial War Museum website. The bomb had fallen in the evening, destroying a church and some of the surrounding shops. It had taken days to clear the site – and this was presumably why no one knew Donnie had been involved at first.

‘He’d have been wearing his dog tags,’ Patrick said. ‘He’d have been easy to identify.’

‘But I still don’t understand why no one told Cora,’ I said.

Patrick took my hand.

‘His unit went to Europe, right?’ he said.

I nodded.

‘So think about it. Like I said, they were a liberating division. They were going through France, pushing the Germans back. They’d have seen whole towns devastated by the war. It was a tough gig, Amy. And it was chaotic. I imagine Donnie’s commanding officers only found out what had happened to him weeks afterwards. Then they’d have had to write to his family. And then they would have had to tell Cora – if they knew about her, of course.’

‘She changed her name,’ I said, remembering what Cora had told me about the dark days after Donnie abandoned her. ‘She pretended to be a war widow. I guess it was just easier back then. She even lied to her mum.’

Patrick made a face.

‘Jeez,’ he said. ‘She had it pretty tough, didn’t she?’

‘She wanted to go to Hollywood,’ I told him. ‘She and Donnie had it all planned. She wanted to dance in films like Ginger Rogers.’

‘Oh,’ said Patrick. ‘That’s why she doesn’t like watching those movies?’

I nodded.

‘It’s so sad,’ I said. ‘She called her daughter Virginia, you know? After Ginger Rogers. That was the closest she got.’

A thought struck me.

‘I suppose if she’d known he was dead, she could have gone,’ I said. ‘She could have gone to America like she’d planned. She wouldn’t have felt she had to hide away and teach little kids ballet for the rest of her life.’

‘She’s had a good life, Amy,’ Patrick said. ‘She’s got a family, she’s been successful, she’s got good friends …’

‘But she never found anyone else,’ I said. ‘And she stopped performing. She lost Donnie and she lost dancing. That’s awful.’A tear slid down my cheek. ‘It’s just so sad,’ I said again. ‘And the worst thing is, I don’t know if knowing he died is going to make it better for Cora. How can we tell her, Patrick?’

I was crying properly now. Patrick put his arm round me and I sobbed into his neck.

‘Oh, this is nice,’ Matty said. I’d not heard him come in but he was suddenly standing in the lounge, looking cross. ‘Am I interrupting?’

I wiped my tears away with the heel of my hand.

‘Oh, Matty,’ I said. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, we just had some bad news.’

Matty looked concerned. He held out his arms to me and I left Patrick’s side and went to him.

‘What happened, baby,’ he said in a cutesie voice. ‘Did your dancing go wrong? Did you step on someone’s toes?’

Patrick shut the laptop with a snap, and stood up.

‘I’d better go,’ he said.

‘Bye then,’ said Matty. I elbowed him in the ribs.

‘We’ve just found out someone died,’ I said. ‘A bit of empathy would go a long way, you know.’

‘Shit,’ said Matty looking genuinely ashamed of himself. ‘Sorry. Who died?’

‘Donnie,’ I said. ‘He was meant to marry Cora but he died the day before the wedding.’

Matty looked blank. ‘Cora …?’

I sighed.

‘Cora who lives upstairs,’ I said for the four hundredth time. ‘She was engaged to a GI and he died.’

I felt my tears starting again. Patrick pulled a pack of tissues from his pocket and handed them to me and I gave him a grateful smile.

Matty stared at me.

‘A GI?’ he said. ‘When exactly did this tragic death take place?’

‘1945,’ I wailed. I buried my head in Matty’s chest and he squeezed me tight and stroked my hair, his chin resting on my head.

‘Amy,’ he said after a minute. ‘What have you done with my picture?’

Chapter Forty-Two

Matty and I had a furious row. We were right back to how we’d been before the whole Kayleigh punching incident. I may have broken a glass. And perhaps I told him exactly what I thought of his stupid blown-up photo of me. And there is a teeny, tiny chance that I opened the patio doors and threw that canvas outside into the rain.

‘I can’t believe you’d be so heartless,’ I yelled at him. ‘How can you not care about Cora?’

‘About some old woman I’ve never met?’ he shouted back. ‘You’re the heartless one, getting rid of that picture. I made that for you, Amy. To show you how much I love you.’

‘Oh, really? The only person you love is yourself.’

There was a pause and Matty and I stood in the middle of the room – Patrick had scarpered ages ago – facing each other and breathing heavily. Then Matty grinned.

‘You’re right there, baby,’ he said. In one swift move he pulled his T-shirt over his head. ‘Who wouldn’t love this body?’

He posed like a body builder, flexing his muscles, and despite myself I laughed.

Matty winked.

‘You like what you see, eh?’ he said. ‘You want some of this?’

I puckered my lips.

‘Well,’ I said. ‘It’s not bad.’

‘Not bad?’ Matty said. ‘Not bloody bad? It’s magnificent.’

I shrugged.

‘Yeah, it’s good,’ I said.

‘So do you want it?’

‘Oh, go on then …’

‘Well, you’re going to have to catch me first.’

Matty spun round and ran into the bedroom. And, after a second’s hesitation, I followed.

This was our thing, you see. It’s what we did. Massive, screaming, hurtful rows and then amazing, hot make-up sex. And yes it was exhausting, and sometimes disconcerting, but it was also exciting and kept me on my toes. I just hoped Cora hadn’t heard the rowing – or the sex. Somehow I wanted her to think I had a bit more class.

The next morning I got up early and went to rehearsal without waking Matty. I wanted to apologise to Patrick for my charming boyfriend’s antics the day before, and of course decide what we were going to do about telling Cora.

Patrick was waiting in the studio when I arrived, even though it was only eight o’clock. The kids were at school now, of course, well into the new term, but Cora had pulled some strings and made sure we still had a space to practise in. Patrick was dancing when I arrived and I stood by the door, watching him. He was going through our tango and it was amazing to watch him. He looked strong and powerful, and a bit vulnerable, too. I found I couldn’t take my eyes off him, which was a worry.

When the music finished, he turned to me and I realised he’d known I was there all along.

‘Pretty good,’ I said as I handed him the coffee I’d bought en route. ‘I think we’ll make a dancer of you yet.’

He grinned at me.

‘You’re early,’ he said. We both sat down on a bench at one end of the studio and I shrugged my bag off my back.

‘Wanted to see you,’ I said, sipping at my own latte. ‘Sorry about Matty yesterday.’

Patrick looked down at his feet.

‘I don’t think Matty and I will ever be friends,’ he said.

‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘He’s a bit selfish.’

Patrick raised his eyebrows.

‘A bit?’ he said.

He ran his thumb over the top of his coffee cup.

‘Are you happy, Amy?’ he said. ‘With him?’

I leaned back against the wall and looked at him.

‘I think so,’ I said. ‘We’re good together. We want the same things.’

‘Money? Fame? Adoration?’ said Patrick, his lip curling in disgust.

‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘Don’t make it all sound so shitty.’

Patrick shrugged.

‘You’re better than that, Amy,’ he said. ‘What about your auditions?’

‘Babs said once I was back on top I’d have the pick of auditions,’ I said. ‘Being with Matty is part of her plan.’

‘But what about you?’ Patrick said. He frowned at me. ‘You’re not some pawn in Babs and Matty’s game. You need to do what’s right for you – you don’t have to play at being Amy Lavender if you don’t want to be.’

I smiled at him.

‘You’re adorable,’ I said. ‘Worrying about me like that. But this is right for me. It’s who I am, Patrick. It’s what I do.’

Something that looked like disappointment flashed across Patrick’s face. I changed the subject.

‘What are we going to do about Donnie?’

He bit his lip.

‘Is Cora coming in today?’ he said.

I shook my head.

‘She’s got something on,’ I said. ‘She’s going to come tomorrow.’

‘Oh, that’s a relief,’ Patrick said. ‘I’m not sure I could face her knowing what we know.’

‘We have to tell her,’ I said. ‘We do. We can’t let her think that Donnie abandoned her and her baby when he didn’t.’

Patrick nodded.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But it just seems so harsh.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘She basically changed the way she saw the world because Donnie jilted her. And we’re going to tell her he didn’t. It’s like her whole life view is going to have to be rewritten.’

‘I had an idea,’ Patrick said. ‘But tell me if you think it’s dumb.’

‘Go on,’ I said, intrigued.

‘I thought I might try to find Donnie’s family,’ he said. ‘Maybe he had siblings? Perhaps he’s got nieces and nephews? It might help her, you know?’

I looked at him.

‘Do you think it’s stupid?’ he said.

‘I think it’s lovely,’ I said. ‘It’s more than lovely. I think it’s really thoughtful and caring and just generally wonderful.’

Patrick beamed at me and I smiled back.

‘And I think you’re wonderful,’ I said.

We stared at each other for a second, then Patrick broke the eye contact.

‘So let’s tango,’ he said.

It was easy to imagine myself as a woman in a relationship that was full of break-ups and make-ups – the back story for my dance that Cora had given me – because that was basically my life with Matty. But it was an odd sensation.

Like I’d told Patrick, I often felt like I was playing the role of Amy Lavender when I was being the celebrity version of myself. So now I was putting that into my dance, but dancing with Patrick, who I could be totally at ease with. It was a bit strange and it had quite an effect on me.

As we danced, I felt like all my nerve endings were tingling. It was a close dance, the tango – we were in contact all the time – and I had never been so aware of Patrick’s sheer presence as I was that morning.

There was a tricky part in the dance that I’d been struggling with. A backwards bend that involved Patrick holding my waist and me curling backwards – almost folding in half. I had been nervous about doing it and hadn’t managed to get it right yet. But today, the dance flowed beautifully and as Patrick gripped my waist I knew I trusted him completely. I bent back, my hair almost trailing on the floor, then snapped back up. Perfect.

‘Yes!’ Patrick said, abandoning the dance and lifting me up off my feet. ‘I knew you could do it.’

‘Nailed it,’ I said. I wrapped my arms round his neck and then, without really knowing what I was doing, I kissed him. Just a small, gentle peck at first. I pulled away and Patrick put me back down on the floor, then he kissed me back more deeply.

I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs and I wondered if Patrick could feel it, too, as we stood in the middle of the dance floor, arms entwined, bodies pressed close together.

And then my phone rang, buzzing violently in my pocket, which was jammed up against Patrick’s hip. So that broke the mood completely.

‘Sorry,’ I said, giggling and pulling it out so I could end the call. It was Matty. With a jolt of realisation I suddenly came to my senses. I’d got back with Matty for a reason – lots of reasons – and here I was kissing my dance partner. Who, as far as I knew, was still romancing twee Sarah-Lou. I was no better than horrible Kayleigh, who I’d punched for kissing my boyfriend. And Babs would be furious. Matty would be heartbroken. Probably. What was I thinking?

‘Shit,’ I said to Patrick. ‘I have to go.’

‘No,’ he said, grabbing my hand. ‘NO. Amy, if you go now, you’re making a choice and you’re choosing to be Amy Lavender – the fake Amy Lavender. Is that how you want to live your life?’

I pulled my hand away.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s who I am.’

Chapter Forty-Three

The ironic thing was, I didn’t even ring Matty back and I certainly didn’t go to him. Instead I went to Phil. He was just shutting the shop up – he closed early on Friday afternoons – but he took one look at my face and bustled me inside, locking the door behind me.

‘What’s happened?’ he said. ‘What’s going on?’

He eyed me suspiciously.

‘Is it Matty?’

With a lurch, I realised I’d not even bothered to tell him I’d got back with Matty. I’d not spoken to him for ages, actually. Some friend I was. Of course, he’d have seen our rekindled romance in the
PostOnline
, which was Phil’s guilty pleasure, if nowhere else.

I threw myself onto the sofa.

‘It’s Matty,’ I wailed. ‘And it’s Patrick.’

Phil sat down next to me.

‘Ooh it’s always the hot dance partner,’ he said. ‘Spill.’