Ellie (35 page)

‘Are you sure?’ Ellie asked, wondering whose it was and whether he meant her to keep it.

‘Quite sure.’ Jimbo smiled at her awed expression. He’d got the dress for his wife through one of his contacts, but she didn’t need it. ‘That’s settled then. I’ll call at seven.’

A light dusting of snow had fallen during the evening and it was bitterly cold. Ellie shivered as she let herself into the kitchen. The fire had gone out hours ago and she guessed Annie had gone to bed early.

Now she was home, seeing Charley’s best shoes tucked under the dresser and his white newly ironed shirt hanging on the clothes-horse, she suddenly felt guilty. He wouldn’t like this arrangement one bit and he would see the black dress as a sinister inducement. Should she say Brenda lent it to her?

Up in her bedroom, she hastily undressed and tried it on. The mirror was a small one and the light dim, but even so she could see she looked sensational in it. The soft crêpe clung to her figure, the drapery on the skirt was so elegant, giving her that fashionable hour-glass shape. She wanted to wear it, she wanted to have dinner at Maxim’s, but she was frightened of telling Charley.

Annie had put a stone hot-water bottle in her bed. The thoughtful act reproached Ellie still further. Why couldn’t she be like other girls? Just settle for a nice home and a loving husband. Why did she hanker for bright lights, expensive clothes and fame?

Alone in the dark, the covers pulled right up to her chin, Ellie thought about Charley. She loved him for his kindness, sense of humour, his courage and strength. But there was a physical need too, which she kept a tight lid on. So many nights she’d lain here in a state of turmoil. When he was home she could hear his breathing in the room next to hers and she longed to go in to him, climb into his bed and quench the terrible thirst of wanting. She felt his need each and every time she kissed him; a brush of his hand and her limbs turned to jelly. But all she allowed was kissing and mild petting: she was too scared to let it go any further.

Sometimes she wished she could talk to Charley about it. But although they talked about anything and everything else, somehow that subject was too difficult. Her reticence to make love wasn’t exactly a question of morality, although after observing Marleen’s behaviour and more recently the other girls at the club, she felt it was sensible to be wary. What she was afraid of was losing control. Down deep inside her she knew that once they’d become lovers the commitment would be too great. Next they’d be married and all her choices would be gone.

Her mother had married a docker and her career as a dancer ended there. Again and again as a child she’d overheard singers and dancers bemoaning the fact that their job was hated by their husbands and saying they wished they’d never married.

Charley would never be content with waiting at a stage door; he’d expect her to slip into the same role as his mother, cooking, cleaning and having babies. Yet what would she do if he got tired of waiting? He was her friend, her love and no other man could ever take his place.

Charley opened the kitchen door and stamped the snow off his boots before going in. It was seven in the morning and the snow had become heavy during the night. He was chilled to the bone, for his uniform had got soaked at a fire, then frozen on him.

‘Hello, Mum.’ His teeth chattered. ‘Blimey, it’s cold!’

Annie kissed his icy cheek and winced as she touched his coat. ‘Take that off this minute!’ she said, undoing the thick leather belt and silver buttons as if he were a child. ‘It’s a wonder to me you don’t get pneumonia.’

She took the heavy coat and hung it up to one side of the fire. Within seconds it was steaming, sending out a pungent smell of wood smoke.

‘And the trousers!’ she said bossily. ‘Was it a big fire?’

‘It was hell.’ Charley slipped off his trousers. Wearing only his woolly long underwear and his uniform blue shirt he sat down by the fire, holding his hands out to the blaze. ‘It was in a warehouse over Camden Town way. We got soaked as usual, our uniforms steaming one moment in the heat, then freezing on us the moment we stepped back. Poor old Fred’s hand got frozen on the branch. Tore off a lump of skin when we tried to get him free.’

Annie tutted in sympathy. Charley rarely complained, so when he did, it meant it was truly bad. ‘What caused the fire?’

‘Don’t know. The other shift replaced us before we put it out completely. I tripped over an old paraffin stove when we got in, perhaps they’d left that alight.’

Annie poured him a cup of tea, then dipped some bread in powdered egg and milk and fried it for him. ‘I’m going down the market after I’ve done the breakfast,’ she said, bending down to feel if his long pants were damp too. ‘I thought I’d try and get some fish.’

‘I’ll just doze down here.’ Charley gave a weak smile through his exhaustion. ‘I thought of taking Ellie sledging up on Hampstead Heath, but it’s too cold for that. It’s her night off tonight so perhaps we’ll go to the pictures instead.’

By the time Annie had finished dishing up the lodgers’ breakfasts upstairs in the dining-room, Charley was fast asleep in the chair. She covered him up with a blanket, turned his uniform, banked up the fire and put on her coat and hat.

Charley woke instantly at the explosion and ran up the stairs two at a time to the top floor to look out of the windows. From the back was only the view of the railway siding of Euston. It looked quite beautiful with the lines, trains and sheds covered in snow, but Charley could see no craters or dust rising in that direction. He moved quickly to the front of the house, opened the window and peered out.

He saw the tell-tale spiral of black dust rising above the roofs and guessed from experience it was somewhere near Lower Oxford Street.

As he glanced at his watch, he groaned. It was ten in the morning: whatever street the rocket had landed in, there would be massive casualties, and if it was Oxford Street it didn’t bear thinking about.

‘I ought to go and help,’ he murmured to himself, yet the thought of what he would see turned his stomach. Just a few days ago he’d been sent out to one in the city and as they approached the site he’d seen a young girl, no older than fifteen, impaled on a wall by a steel girder which had been flung some thirty yards by the force of the blast. She was still alive at that point, her mouth and eyes wide open as if screaming, but no sound coming out. Charley could do nothing but talk to her and hold her hand. She died before they managed to free her.

He made a pot of tea, still weighing up whether he should go or not. He silently cursed the authorities for laying off all the part-timers. The public were so quick to complain at firemen waiting around doing nothing when there were no raids or fires, not so quick to praise them when they toiled for up to forty-eight hours without any sleep under conditions that beggared belief. He was becoming convinced that Australia was the place for him after the war, if Ellie would marry him and come with him. But for now he was a fireman and he must go to help. He couldn’t live with himself if someone died under rubble for want of an extra pair of hands digging them out. His uniform was dry again at least. He pulled on his trousers and buttoned them up, flicked up his braces and pulled on his boots.

Pouring two cups of tea, he drank his down in one gulp then taking the other he carried it up to Ellie, his coat over his arm.

‘Did I hear an explosion, or was I dreaming?’ she said sleepily as he came into her room. She hauled herself up in bed and rubbed her eyes.

The room was gloomy with the curtains drawn, but even so Charley tried to avert his eyes from her breasts. Her thin nightdress was taut against them and her nipples stood out like two succulent raspberries.

‘Yes, you did,’ he said, putting the tea into her hands, and bent to kiss her forehead. She smelt wonderful, all warm and powdery and it was all he could do not to crush her into his arms. ‘I’m off there now, it looks like it’s around Oxford Street.’

Ellie’s face fell. ‘Must you? Oh, why, Charlie? I thought we’d have all day together.’

He looked so tired, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen, stubble on his chin. But his hair was endearingly tousled, with the curls he normally tried so hard to suppress with Brylcreem spiralling on to his forehead and neck.

‘You know why.’ He smiled as he put on his coat and fastened up the buttons. Ellie was beautiful to him at all times, but there was something special about her face in the mornings without lipstick or rouge, kind of open and innocent like a child’s. ‘It’s been snowing and it’s so cold I doubt whether you’d want to go out. If they don’t need me I’ll come right back.’

At the mention of snow Ellie’s eyes opened wide in child-like excitement. She wriggled up into a kneeling position, pulled back the curtains and peered out.

‘Oh Charley! Doesn’t it look pretty!’ she exclaimed at the view. ‘All the soot and dirt covered up. I wish it always looked that way.’

Charley wasn’t looking at that view, only the one of her buttocks and tiny waist beneath her nightdress. ‘A cuddle before I go?’ he asked, but before she could reply he moved towards her and slid his arms round her, cupping her breasts in his hands.

‘Charley!’ she murmured reprovingly, but she didn’t move, only leaned her head back against his shoulder.

Just the merest touch from Charley made her heart pound, but the roughness of his coat through her nightdress, his big hands on her breasts and the smell of smoke on him heightened the eroticism. His lips were on her neck, kissing and licking away her shoulder-straps while he squeezed her nipples.

‘Annie might come up,’ she whispered, but she didn’t want him to stop.

‘She’s gone out,’ he murmured against her ear. ‘She won’t be back for ages. We’re all alone.’

This was the first time that Charley had caught her with so little on. Downstairs, fully dressed, it was a lot easier to find excuses to back away, but now his hand was on her belly, moving downwards with determination. Her thin nightdress offered no protection, not from him or her own feelings. Just the position she was in, kneeling up at the window, made her feel even more vulnerable and yet excited. She looked down at his hand, caressing her. It was big and calloused, so strong-looking yet so tender and sensitive and she could feel her resolve waning.

‘You’ve got to go to work,’ she reminded him.

‘Sod work.’ His voice was husky as he turned her around to kiss her.

Ellie had always thought she could call a halt at any stage in petting. But it had never been quite like this before. He was fully dressed right down to his boots, his coat buttoned and his heavy leather belt fastened, but his hands were sweeping up inside her nightdress exploratively, over her stomach, hips and thighs, sweeping away her resistance. Never before had she felt such overpowering passion. His mouth was devouring hers, his breath was hot and heavy and his hands on her naked skin made her tremble with wanting.

‘I love you,’ he gasped, taking one nipple in his lips, making ripples of exquisite pleasure run down her spine. ‘You’re so perfect and beautiful.’ Ellie wanted to caress his skin too, but he was so tightly wrapped in his uniform all she could do was trace the hard muscle in his shoulders and forearms.

As his hand met her pubic hair she welcomed it, yet at the same time she was afraid and embarrassed by a sudden wetness there.

But his fingers were so gentle, stroking her so delicately she responded wantonly, moaning deeply as he probed deep inside her, opening her thighs wider and clawing at his back, pulling him tighter to her still until the two rows of silver buttons on his coat were digging into her skin.

Nothing had prepared her for this. Until today she had never allowed him to touch her above her knees and she’d always had the vague thought in her mind that it was men who had all the pleasure, not women. Wave after wave of intense, savage delight washed over her. She forgot the snow outside, the threat of bombs or even of Annie suddenly appearing in the doorway, and abandoned herself to Charley.

Often in the past he’d guided her hands towards his penis when they were kissing, but always she’d withdrawn it, shrinking back in fright. But now as she undulated beneath him she could feel it throbbing beneath his serge trousers and she wanted to please him too.

Sliding one hand beneath his coat she found the buttons on his flies, opened them and slid her hand in. Still kissing her passionately he helped her and suddenly it was in her hand. It was alarmingly big, but smooth and warm and as her fingers closed round it, his gasp of pleasure encouraged her.

‘Oh Ellie my love,’ he moaned, biting her breast and moving against her. ‘I’ve longed for you to hold me.’

His breathing grew hotter and fiercer and in innocence Ellie held him more firmly, pressing herself hard against him.

‘I can’t hold back,’ he murmured and suddenly she felt something hot and sticky spurt against her wrist.

Ellie had only the most rudimentary knowledge of how love-making worked and she was baffled by why Charley was suddenly limp in her hand and lying panting on her chest.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘It was just too exciting. I messed it up.’

She was still burning up inside, every nerve-end tingling. She wanted him to go on petting her, but the way he lay still against her suggested it was over. She was much too embarrassed to guide his hands back to her, or even to speak of it.

‘Perhaps you’d better go to work,’ she said stiffly, surreptitiously wiping her wrist against the sheet. Just a moment ago she had been perspiring, but now her skin felt icy and she reached for a blanket to pull over her.

Charley lifted his head to look at her, hurt by her tone. A moment ago she had been so eager, so abandoned. Now she wasn’t even looking at him and she seemed to be cringing away from him.

‘Is that really what you want?’ he asked, feeling deeply shamed. He hadn’t intended any of this, it had just reared up from nowhere. All he wanted now was to strip off his uniform, get into bed properly with her and cuddle. But she didn’t seem to want that.

‘You said you had to go.’ Ellie turned her face away from his, for some inexplicable reason wanting to cry.