A Sister's Promise (22 page)

Molly’s heart sank. She was incredibly tired and would have preferred to seek her bed, even with the black silk sheets, but she knew Ray and Charlie only meant to be kind.

‘I have never tasted alcohol,’ she said, lifting the glass and sniffing apprehensively.

‘Bout time you did then,’ Charlie said. ‘What age are you, anyway? Sixteen? Seventeen?’

‘I was eighteen in February,’ Molly said.

‘Then the brandy will do you no harm at all, and once you have it drunk you will sleep like a top.’

‘I think I would sleep well enough without the brandy.’

‘It’ll be better with, trust me,’ Charlie said. ‘Isn’t that right, Ray?’

‘It’s right,’ Ray said. ‘And when you have it drunk then
we will leave you to sleep the sleep of the just. So let us toast the fact that we met up with you tonight.’

Oh, Molly had no trouble toasting that. She didn’t dare think of what might have happened to her if she hadn’t met up with these lovely men. ‘Down the hatch,’ Charlie said as the glasses chinked. Molly took a large swallow and found she liked the taste, and accepted another when she found her glass empty.

But when she had finished that one, she felt very peculiar. She knew Ray and Charlie were talking, but she wasn’t able to register what they were saying. Her head had begun to swim quite alarmingly and when she tried to speak, her voice was befuddled and she couldn’t remember what she had wanted to say.

‘I would say you are a wee bit drunk,’ Ray said with a smile.

Molly tried to say she was sorry but her tongue seemed to have swollen to twice its normal size and what came out was just gobbledegook. Ray and Charlie laughed.

‘Come on,’ Ray said. ‘We’ll help you to bed and be on our way.’

Molly tried to say she didn’t need help, but she was unable to form the words, and when she tried to stand, she found she couldn’t do that either. It was as if her legs belonged to someone else. The two men carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, where her eyes closed of their own volition.

‘What are you doing?’ Charlie asked as Ray began easing Molly’s jumper up.

‘Undressing her.’

‘But, why?’

‘Well, I don’t want to leave her in her clothes all night,’ Ray said. ‘She won’t remember any of this. If we were that way inclined, we could both take her now and she’d be none the wiser. But she is more valuable to us as she is because I am positive she is a virgin and I have Collingsworth looking
for just such a girl. He is willing to pay and pay well if the girl is untouched.’

‘So what are we doing this for?’

‘Because when she wakes tomorrow under the sheets and in a slinky nightdress, and we say we left her fully clothed, she won’t remember a thing about it and I have a feeling that will unnerve her a bit and that’s what I want.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘You are a queer kettle of fish, mate,’ he said. ‘But I won’t argue with you because I think we are sitting on a little goldmine with this one, if we play our cards right.’

‘That is what I am counting on,’ Ray said. ‘So you just look in those drawers and get me the slinkiest, sexiest nightdress you can find.’

And Charlie, with a grin, did just that.

Molly woke with a raging thirst. Her head felt as if it were made of cotton wool, and Ray was standing beside her bed, holding a cup of tea.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Awful,’ she said, and her voice came out like a croak. She struggled to sit up and suddenly realised that she had a nightdress on that she had never seen before. ‘How did I get here and undressed and all?’ she asked, taking the very welcome cup of tea.

Ray looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’ he said. ‘I told you to choose and left you to it.’

Molly took a long gulp of the tea, for all it was so hot, before saying to Ray, ‘I can’t remember anything, not even getting undressed.’

Ray smiled. ‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ he said. ‘Let’s say you were not yourself last night.’

‘Was I drunk?’

‘A little, I think,’ Ray said. ‘But that was made worse by tiredness and the upset and distress you suffered in the raid.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Ray said. ‘It happens to the best of us. Now, are you hungry?’

Molly suddenly realised she was. ‘Starving,’ she said, ‘and when I have eaten, I will start the search for Kevin.’

‘Too late for that today, my dear.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s already turned five o’clock.’

‘You don’t mean in the evening?’

‘I do indeed.’

‘I can’t have slept all that time.’

‘You did, and all I can say is you must have needed it.’

‘Maybe I did,’ Molly said. ‘But I am still annoyed with myself. Can we not go out afterwards, when I have eaten?’

‘Out in the blackout with a full moon shining in the sky?’ Ray said. ‘How would it be if we were caught in a raid that went on for hours and we were unable to get home? Trust me in this, my dear.’

‘All right,’ Molly said with a sigh. ‘To tell you the truth, I still feel tired and not myself at all. I don’t think I would be up to it anyway.’

‘It is quite understandable,’ Ray said. ‘You sit and rest yourself and drink your tea, and I will rustle us up something to eat.’

When Ray had gone, Molly put the drained cup down and got out of bed, padded across the room and immediately caught sight of herself in one of the many mirrors. Her face was the colour of lint and her hair tousled about her head because she hadn’t plaited it and it had come adrift from the Kirbigrips that had held it fast. Her eyes looked puzzled and were screwed up in pain.

She was wearing the most beautiful nightdress, which she was sure she had never seen before. It was made of silk, and a deep azure blue with a white lace trim, and though it was floor length there was a split either side to her thigh. There wasn’t much to the bodice at all. It seemed to be made entirely of lace and it was so low cut it barely covered her nipples. Her face flushed with shame for, by her standards, the nightdress was almost indecent. She suddenly realised with alarm that her locket was gone. Scanning the room a little frantically, she spied it on the little table by the bed. But she never took it off. Then she told herself she
couldn’t remember taking anything else off either, and she felt ashamed of her behaviour.

Ray didn’t seem bothered about any of it, though, and he brought her broth in on a tray. ‘Come back into bed,’ he said, ‘and eat this up. Then maybe you would like a bath?’

‘Oh, I would love one. Will anyone mind?’

‘How could anyone mind? There is only you and me here. I’ll have to find you something else to wear; the things that you had on last night are covered in dust. There are plenty of clothes here, and for all you are a bit on the small size, I’m sure I will find something to fit you.’

‘I can’t wear someone else’s clothes.’

‘Well, you sure as hell can’t go round in your birthday suit,’ Ray said with a grin. ‘It’s too cold, for one thing. Anyway, it didn’t bother you last night when you put on that nightdress.’

‘But who do they all belong to?’

‘Don’t you worry your pretty head about that,’ Ray said. ‘Eat up now. You’ll feel better afterwards.’

And Molly did. She was unaware of the white powder that Ray had mixed in with the broth. Afterwards a bath seemed a wonderful idea, and a few minutes later she was luxuriating in a hot bath full of fragrant bubbles. She washed her hair too with creamy shampoo.

Eventually, she stepped out and, wrapping herself in a towelling robe, she went through to the bedroom when Ray had laid some clothes on the bed. They were not at all the sort of things she was used to and she was not at all sure she wanted to get used to them either. She had virtually lived in dungarees and shirts for over five years, and though she had longed for something prettier and more feminine, she had never envisaged wearing clothes like those Ray had laid out. The lacy underwear and sheer silk stockings were nice enough, but the blouse was so clingy, none of her shape was left to the imagination and the neckline plunged so low it showed a fair bit of cleavage. The skirts were far too short too.

Fully dressed, she surveyed herself in one of the many mirrors. She looked like a different person and she knew without doubt that if there had been a person dressed as she was in Buncrana, people would assume she was fast, up to no good. Molly’s cheeks grew hot at the thought.

When Ray knocked on the door she was almost too embarrassed to open it, feeling sure she was showing too much flesh altogether. He obviously didn’t feel the same way, though, for she saw his eyes widen in appreciation.

‘Do I look all right?’ she asked tentatively.

Ray knew that Molly would have no idea how fetching she was. Her skin was fresh and glowing from the warm bath, her cheeks pink-tinged, and her hair was wrapped up in a towel, turban-style but some of her curls had escaped the turban and framed her pretty little face. For a moment Ray regretted that girls as beautiful as this one did not stir him in the slightest.

Molly’s eyes were troubled, but when Ray said, ‘You do not look just all right, you look wondrous,’ they cleared a little.

She looked doubtfully at her reflection. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘You don’t think I look a bit, well, sort of fast?’

‘Molly, believe me, you are the picture of loveliness,’ Ray said. He caught up her hands and turned her round to face him, and added, ‘You also look seductive and extremely sexy, and what’s wrong with that?’

‘I … I don’t know that I want to be sexy,’ Molly said. ‘And these clothes feel strange on me.’

‘They don’t look strange.’

‘Well,’ Molly said with a shrug, ‘they’ll do, I suppose, till I can get something more suitable.’

Ray pulled Molly towards him and put an arm around her shoulder as he said gently, ‘Listen, sweetheart, Britain is at war. Making clothes in vast quantities is not considered important for the nation’s survival and most places
that make clothes have been converted to making uniforms anyway, so there is little in the shops to buy. You were not the only one, either, to be left with just the clothes on your back. No one can afford to be too choosy these days. So these things may not be your choice, but there is little alternative.’

Molly knew Ray was probably right. After all, what did she know of war restrictions? And she had no desire to upset the man who had been so kind to her.

‘Anyway,’ Ray went on, ‘you have a lovely body. Never be ashamed of it.’

‘But it’s wrong to show yourself.’

‘Who said? The harridan of a grandmother?’

‘No, well, I mean she didn’t need to. I just knew.’

‘Why?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean why is it wrong to show your body?’ Ray said. ‘The female naked form can be beautiful. Look at some of the paintings.’

‘I … I haven’t seen paintings like that.’

‘There are many of them in the art gallery in the town, or were before the war.’

‘But in real life …’

‘Someone had to pose, don’t forget.’

‘I couldn’t do that,’ Molly said with a shiver of distaste.

‘Why not?’ Ray said, and without waiting for a reply, went on. ‘Look, my darling girl, you are no longer in a little tin-pot Irish town. You are eighteen years old and in a thriving city. Let yourself go a bit. And you do want to, even if you won’t admit i t. Look at the nightdress you chose for yourself. It’s nice, very nice. You chose well and the fact that you can’t remember doing it is neither here nor there – you still chose it. Be honest with yourself. You wanted to look sexy.’

Did I? Molly wondered. She couldn’t seem to think straight; her head felt woozy. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact
it was quite a nice feeling, but it did mean she couldn’t seem to hold a thought in her head for long.

Molly was not to know how expressive her face was. Not that Ray scrutinised her closely and had a very good guess at what went on in her head.

‘So let’s have no more complaints about the clothes then,’ he said, leading her by the hand into the living room and sitting her down on the sofa.

‘No, Ray,’ Molly said. ‘I’m sorry. It was very ungrateful of me. But who did those clothes belong to?’ She was curious about the type of woman who would leave all her things behind in such a way. ‘Do they belong to your friend’s wife?’

‘He has no wife,’ Ray said. ‘And the things don’t belong to one person.’

‘Oh,’ Molly said, perplexed.

‘This flat belongs to a friend of mine, as I said,’ Ray said. ‘There is no need for you to know his name,’ he went on, because by the time Molly was given over to Collingsworth for his pleasure he definitely didn’t want her on her guard in any way. ‘He is away at the present time, as I said, but he often entertains ladies here, and he likes them to feel clean and comfortable – hence the toiletries in the bathroom – and then to dress up for him because it pleases him, and the ladies like to please him in all ways.’

‘Oh, oh, I see.’

‘You’re shocked, aren’t you?’

Shocked was an understatement. Molly wasn’t a fool and she knew what the girls would be doing to please him. She thought of the bedroom with the mirrors, and privately considered it one of the most disgusting things she had ever encountered. But she tried hard to cover that disgust as she cried, ‘No … no, not at all.’

‘Don’t deny it,’ Ray said with a smile. ‘You are shaken right down to the core of your good little Catholic soul.’

‘It’s just that I have never heard of such behaviour.’

‘And you think it wrong?’

‘We are taught it is wrong.’

‘What harm are they doing?’

‘Well, if they are … if they do … What I mean is, sex before marriage is a big sin, just about the biggest, and these people will go to hell when they die.’

Ray burst into a gale of laughter at this before asking, ‘For what? For bringing a bit of comfort and pleasure to one another?’ That maybe was a little exaggeration, for the girls didn’t always like it at first. They put up with it, though, as Molly would in time. The powders, their love of gin and the fear of being beaten virtually ensured their compliance until they got over their initial distaste.

No one had ever spoken to Molly of the pleasure to be had from sex. In fact, no one talked about sex much at all. Molly remembered Nellie telling her that her husband would tell her all about it on her wedding night. And she had wondered at the time how her husband would find out if it wasn’t up for any sort of discussion at all. Nellie had never mentioned any pleasure to be had, but made it sound more of a duty that a woman had to do for her husband.

Here Ray spoke openly of men and women bringing pleasure to one another sexually. It was all alien to Molly. Yet Ray was right in one way, for they were hurting no one. She wasn’t sure, though, that she could act that way, or even want to. She had never even been alone with a boy, let alone held hands or, heaven forbid, kissed.

She had allowed Ray to hold her tight when she was scared of the raids and had no objection to him draping an arm around her shoulder when he was explaining something, but he did those things as a brother might. Molly had never felt the slightest unease with Ray, but she didn’t know that she would like anyone else to be so intimate.

Ray watched her face and smiled to himself. Molly didn’t know what pleasures were in store for her.

‘Time for a drink,’ he said.

‘Oh, no, after yesterday—’

‘Nonsense,’ Ray said, surreptitiously tipping the white powder into Molly’s glass before adding the lemonade. ‘Brandy is good for shock and, protest as you might, I have shocked you to the core this evening, so I am afraid I must insist.’

Molly sipped the drink, which she did like the taste of. But within minutes of finishing it she felt lethargy beginning to creep over her.

Ray felt the sag against his body and said, ‘Come on, bed for you, before you are too far gone again.’

Molly wondered why she was so tired, but she definitely was, and she staggered as she got to her feet. Ray had to help her to the bedroom, and there she sat on the bed and tried to summon up the energy to get undressed. However, it proved too much for her and she slumped on the bed just as she was. Ray found her in a deep sleep a little later, so deep that when the sirens went off she didn’t stir. Ray smiled as he undressed her, leaving her clothes scattering the floor and this time rolled her into bed and under the covers completely naked.

In the living room, he stood for a moment listening, but the raid was some distance away and he decided to risk going out. He had to see Charlie anyway, but he took the precaution of locking the bedroom door as well as the front one, and pocketing both keys before he set off into the night.

Ray found Charlie in his local. He sipped his drink while Charlie told him what he had found out that day of the people that Molly had come to Birmingham to find.

‘Nothing on that Hilda,’ he said. ‘I mean, the people in her house didn’t know anything, so I reckon she has kicked the bucket and a neighbour of the granddad’s told me he had pegged it too and the kid was in an orphanage. She weren’t sure which one, but thought it was probably Erdington Cottage Homes.’

‘Molly is never going to know this,’ Ray said. ‘In fact,
with the powders and brandy I am tipping down her neck she’ll barely be able remember her own name by the end of the week, let alone the reason she came back to Birmingham.’