Through the Storm (44 page)

A car dealership in New York! It was the sort of venture dear to Jessica’s heart. She’d love to go to America when the war was over. It was a country ripe with opportunity. She glanced again at Gus as he turned the jeep into the base and wondered if he’d like a partner. If she sold the Bootle properties, she might raise enough for a stake in the business. Or – she felt another thrill of excitement – maybe he’d like a wife! It was all Jack Doyle’s doing, but he’d made her realise there was, and always had been, some sort of chemistry between her and Gus.

Just to be awkward, Jessica had brought with her the red dress which had so irritated Gus Henningsen when she first wore it. She changed in a small room behind the officers’ mess, along with the two young women who were professional tapdancers and first on the bill.

When it was Jessica’s turn to go on, one of the tapdancers held Penny at the side of the temporary stage which had been set up at the end of a massive aircraft hangar. She knew she was at her best that night. She always was, with an enthusiastic audience who stamped their feet in appreciation and needed no bidding to join in the chorus of every song. When she’d finished and was about to take her final bow, Penny came running across the stage towards her, and Jessica swept her daughter up in her arms and waved a last farewell to the cheering boys in khaki.

She had hoped to ask Gus if he would take her home immediately her stint was finished, but he’d disappeared, and everyone else was far too taken up with the concert. The white-haired colonel who’d laid claim to her thigh at the Dorchester, and now seemed to have no
memory
of the incident, informed her a seat had been reserved in the front row so she could watch the remainder of the show.

Jessica had never heard of the comedian who entertained them for the entire second half, but apparently he was very big in the States. She thought him rather coarse and not the least bit funny, but the audience fell about the aisles laughing at his every word.

There was still no sign of Gus when they went back to the officers’ mess after the show for the usual lavish refreshments. Penny was wide awake and in her element as she was petted and told what a cute little girl she was by virtually everyone there. As time wore on and the colonel gradually became more inebriated, he kept laying his hand on Jessica’s bare shoulder and squeezing her arm, but this time there was no sign of Gus Henningsen to rescue her. Jessica rescued herself by changing back into the green dress she’d come in, which showed less flesh, in the hope the colonel wouldn’t find her so seductive.

Penny was on a table being taught to tapdance when Jessica emerged. Soon afterwards, a young soldier appeared at her shoulder. ‘Are you ready to leave yet, ma’am?’

‘More than ready.’ She noticed the colonel had spied her and was rapidly approaching. ‘Are you taking me?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Jessica hadn’t realised how much she’d been looking forward to the drive home with Gus Henningsen. She liked talking to him – or not talking to him, as the case may be. There was a sense of ease between them, as if, deep down at heart, they understood each other. It meant Jack Doyle had been talking through the back of his neck. Gus wasn’t even interested enough to take her home.

On the return journey, the soldier chatted volubly. He loved England, it was a great place, and he was
looking
forward to being transferred across to Suffolk in a few weeks’ time. It was truly amazing that it took only a few hours’ drive to travel the entire width of such an important country.

‘Does that mean you’re part of Army Air Corps Maintenance?’ enquired Jessica.

‘Sure does, ma’am. Gee, how on earth did you know that?’ he asked in surprise.

‘Someone I know is friendly with Sergeant Dale Tooley. She told me he was being sent to Suffolk at the end of the month.’

‘I know Dale Tooley,’ the soldier said. ‘He’s a great guy.’

‘Kitty certainly seems to thinks so,’ Jessica smiled.

The days passed and swiftly turned to weeks, and still Jessica heard nothing from Gus Henningsen. With the garage gone, he could no longer telephone. Jessica felt more than a little hurt. She tried to convince herself she didn’t like him, but although she wasn’t sure what her feelings were, she knew this was no longer true. For the first time in her life, she’d met a man who was her match. She would have liked the relationship to continue and see what developed.

‘Not that we had a relationship,’ she conceded to herself. ‘We’ve only met a few times, and we were mainly unpleasant to each other.’

Instead of his memory fading, each day Jessica thought about him more. In the end, she decided to write to him. ‘What harm can it do? Why should it always be the man who asks for dates?’ She had no intention of giving up on Gus Henningsen so easily.

She suggested they meet in the Dorchester for dinner. It seemed to be the place where American top brass hung out.
I leave you to pick the day
, she wrote,
as obviously I don’t know when you’ll be free
. She finished off with,
Yours sincerely, Jessica Fleming
.

The day after she’d posted it, Jessica heard from Arthur’s Commanding Officer, a Colonel Curtis, in North Africa.
Private Fleming was taking supplies of essential ammunition to a small group of men who had been cut off in the fighting, when his vehicle was hit by an enemy shell
…

Arthur had been
very brave
, and Jessica was offered the deepest sympathy for her sad loss.

Jessica wondered what Colonel Curtis’s fate had been when General Rommel had taken the entire British garrison in Tobruk only the other day. Thirty-three thousand troops had been captured by an enemy force of barely half that number, another terrible defeat for Britain. ‘Perhaps Mrs Curtis has had a telegram by now,’ she thought bleakly.

She sorted through the things she’d brought back from the flat over the museum until she found a photograph of her and Arthur’s wedding. She dusted it, put it on the sideboard, and sat staring at the photograph for quite a long time. Then she took it off and put it in a drawer, along with the letter from the Colonel Curtis. ‘I can’t stand hypocrites!’ she said loudly.

It was Sunday, the last day they would have together before Dale was transferred. The weather was scorching and the sun beamed down like a fiery torch out of a clear, bright sky. Kitty wore a new blue and white check frock with short sleeves and big white buttons down the front, which Jessica said dubiously made her look like a nurse!

They met early and decided to spend the day in New Brighton. ‘It’s a great place. I really like it there,’ Dale enthused.

The ferry was crammed to capacity with day trippers carrying bulging shopping bags, and children with their buckets and spades. Dale had brought his camera and took a snapshot of the docks for his dad, followed by
several
of Kitty standing against the ship’s rail which was almost too hot to touch: one looking right, one left, and one looking straight at him with her tongue stuck out.

‘If you’d like to tell me how that thing works, I’ll take one of you together,’ a man, who was watching the proceedings with great interest, offered.

So Dale explained how to use the viewfinder and when to press the shutter, and he and Kitty posed arm in arm against the rail.

‘Give her a nice big kiss, and I’ll take another.’

‘I’ll send you copies when I’ve had them developed,’ Dale promised Kitty after the camera was returned.

‘I’ll keep the ones of us together in me handbag. Then I can take them out and look at them whenever I want, even at work.’

‘Are you worried you’re going to forget what I look like?’ Dale teased.

‘As if I would! Anyroad, I’ll still be seeing you, won’t I?’ He was coming to Liverpool whenever he had an extended leave, even if it meant they would only have a single night in the hotel room with the black wallpaper which they now looked upon almost as a second home. When Kitty had her fortnight’s holiday, she intended staying in a hotel in Ipswich, only a few miles from his new base. Today wasn’t goodbye for ever, but even so, it was still unbearably sad.

‘I don’t know how I’m going to live without you!’ She laid her head on his shoulder and he stroked her hair. For three months, Dale had dominated her life. They had fused together, become one person. Kitty felt as if losing him would be as painful as losing one of her limbs.

‘I love you, Kitty Quigley.’ He kissed her softly on the lips. ‘You’ll never forget that, will you? No matter what happens, remember I truly loved you. You’re my girl. I’ve never loved anyone else the way I love you, and I never will.’

The ferry creaked and groaned against the solid piers of the New Brighton quay. Most people were already massed on deck waiting to disembark. ‘Dale!’ Kitty said nervously. ‘You sound as if you’ve had a premonition you’re going to be killed or something.’

Dale shook his head. ‘Nothing like that, honey. I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I love you.’

‘I already know that, don’t I?’ The massive gangplank was being lowered and Kitty seized his hand. ‘Come on, let’s go on the fairground first.’

The day was bittersweet. Kitty crossed the hours off in her head, the way dates were struck off a calendar: two o’clock, three o’clock, four. It was like the tolling of a fateful bell. Once it ceased, Dale would be gone.

After they’d exhausted every ride on the fairground, they strolled arm in arm on the crowded beach. Small children paddled naked in the shallow water, and further out, shimmering in the brilliant sunshine, the glassy river was full of swimmers.

Dale was carrying his jacket over his arm. Kitty modestly removed her stockings and let her feet sink into the burning sand. She paddled briefly, amazed the water could be so cold. Dale watched and laughed and warned her she might drown.

Later, they found a small patch of empty sand and he built a castle with his hands, topping it with a flag made from an old cigarette packet. ‘There! I now crown you queen of this castle.’

‘And I crown you king.’ Their eyes met over the clumsily made castle and he leaned across and kissed her. She fell back against the sand and he took her in his arms and kissed her again. Neither cared that they were surrounded by people who were watching with great interest. As far as Kitty and Dale were concerned, no-one else existed at that moment in time. ‘How many times have we kissed?’ she whispered.

‘Hundreds, thousands, millions. However many times, it’s not been nearly enough.’

Kitty glanced at his watch: five o’clock. He was leaving first thing tomorrow and had to catch the last train back to Burtonwood.

‘Hungry?’ Dale enquired, smiling. The smile still had the power to cause flutters in her tummy. He stood up and held out an arm to pull her to her feet.

‘What for?’ Kitty licked her lips provocatively.

‘For me, for food?’

‘I’m hungry for both, particularly you.’

‘We’ve just missed the ferry, so there’s time for fish and chips, then we’ll catch the boat and you can have me!’ He’d developed a taste for fish and chips, and was relieved to be told they were sure to be available in Ipswich.

It was just gone six when they’d eaten and boarded the ferry back to Liverpool. The day was as hot as ever, and once again the boat was packed with perspiring people returning home with their tired children after their day trip to New Brighton. Kitty noticed several GIs with their girls. Everyone had caught too much sun, but despite their red faces and their obvious weariness, most looked enormously happy, as if grateful that, in the midst of the most terrible war the world had ever known, they’d managed to snatch a few hours away from the horror and pretend life was normal for a change.

As the ferry neared the Pier Head, the sound of music drifted across the water. ‘I’ll be with you in apple blossom time,’ the Andrews Sisters crooned.

Dale and Kitty were leaning against the rail on the open top deck. He turned her towards him and slid his arms around her waist. ‘Can I have this dance?’ he murmured in her ear.

‘There’s no room to dance!’ she protested. She felt close to tears and wished the music was something
different
. It was the song they’d danced to the night they met, and, to Kitty, it seemed as if everything was being drawn into a tight circle.

‘We’ll waltz on the spot.’ He began to twist her slowly around, their bodies glued together. A woman sitting nearby nudged her husband and they watched the young couple indulgently. ‘They’ve got it bad,’ the man remarked.

‘Hi, I’m Dale Tooley.’

‘I’m Kitty Quigley.’

‘Promise you’ll never stop loving me, Kitty Quigley.’

‘I’ll love you for ever,’ vowed Kitty.

Jessica found herself staying up later and later. Without the garage, there was no need to rise with the lark, and she and Penny had time for a cuddle in bed before a leisurely breakfast. Now she had a wireless, Jessica usually waited for the midnight bulletin before she retired – Sheila Reilly had been thrilled to swop it for a proper radiogram. Also, the light nights were no encouragement to go to bed. With the clocks having gone forward two hours, the sky was still a pearly grey at midnight.

The curtains had barely been drawn when Jessica heard the door to the back entry open, followed by Kitty’s footsteps in the yard. There was only one front door key, and she was reluctant to hang it behind the front door, otherwise the world and his wife would regard it as an open invitation to let themselves in.

‘Hello, Kitty,’ she called, ‘you’ve missed all the excitement. Ellis Evans kicked Dai out tonight, and I mean that quite literally. Apparently, she found out he’d been having a bit on the side with Vera Dodds. She’d kicked him halfway down the street before someone rescued him. You’ve never heard such screaming and shouting.’

There was no response from Kitty and Jessica
remembered
she’d been saying goodbye to Dale. The tap began to run. ‘There’s still some tea in the pot, dear. I think it should be warm.’

Still no answer. Worried, Jessica went over to the back kitchen doorway. Kitty was bent over the sink, splashing her face with cold water. ‘Are you all right?’