Dead to Me (27 page)

‘She’s just waiting for her prince to come riding by,’ she’d said to Colin.

‘Will she know he’s her prince when he comes along?’ he asked, big brown eyes looking intently at her.

‘Oh yes,’ Verity assured him. ‘One special look, that’s all it takes.’

That seemed to satisfy Colin right then, but a little while later he asked if she was waiting for a prince too. ‘Because you are just as beautiful as Ruby.’

She tickled him under his chin and told him she was waiting for him to grow up. But she felt sad afterwards, remembering how sure she’d been that Miller was ‘the one’.

She wasn’t bitter that he’d found someone else. She blamed herself for not making more of an effort to go and
see him in Scotland, and for not fanning those little sparks of desire into a big fire when he came back on leave to Weardale Road. But all the same, she did wonder if she’d ever meet anyone again who she would find as easy and comfortable to be with.

‘Love isn’t about being comfortable,’ Ruby had said when she’d asked her opinion. ‘It’s more like being caught up in a whirlpool, or jumping blindly from a great height. You get comfortable with a dog or a brother, not with the man of your dreams.’

Whatever Ruby said, Miller had been – and still was – the man of Verity’s dreams. But she kept that to herself and just hoped that tonight, or another night soon, a new man would come along who she would like as much.

The organizers of the dance had made a real effort to make the little hall more attractive. Twisted garlands of crêpe paper were looped around the walls, and above the stage they’d fixed branches of evergreen shrubs in an arch. Many of the lights had Chinese paper lanterns over them, which created pools of different-coloured light on the dance floor beneath. The band was already playing and Ruby gave a snort of derisive laughter, because it consisted of only two men and a mere boy. The pianist had to be at least seventy, with a boy of about sixteen on drums. The third member was a saxophonist who was sitting in a wheelchair.

‘Don’t be cruel,’ Verity whispered. ‘They play well, whatever they look like.’

‘Fancy attempting a Glenn Miller number with only three of them,’ Ruby whispered back.

Verity ignored her, she thought they were making a
good job of ‘A String of Pearls’. And how could anyone expect a big band like Glenn Miller’s to play a church hall in Babbacombe?

About half a dozen girls were dancing together by the stage. At the far end of the hall a sprinkling of men in uniform, mainly RAF, lounged against the walls smoking and watching the girls.

‘Let’s get a drink?’ Verity suggested.

The bar was a trestle table covered in a royal-blue cloth, but it served soft drinks only. Ruby bought two orange squashes. ‘Come out to the lav?’ she said.

Assuming she had something to say that she didn’t want overheard, Verity followed her.

‘Hold your glass still,’ Ruby said, and pulled a small bottle from her handbag. ‘It’s gin. I managed to get it from a porter at work,’ she added as she poured some of it into both their glasses.

Verity loathed gin. But she took a couple of sips and then a big gulp, as if it was medicine.

‘Well done,’ Ruby said, doing the same. ‘I might even enjoy the evening, if I’m plastered.’

‘Don’t be a killjoy,’ Verity said softly, but she reached out to touch her friend’s cheek affectionately. ‘Give it an hour. If you still hate being here, we’ll go home.’

The band were playing ‘Tuxedo Junction’ as they came out of the Ladies. Verity’s head was spinning, because she’d downed the rest of her drink in one go.

‘We may as well dance together,’ Ruby said, putting her hand on Verity’s waist and leading her out on to the dance floor. ‘It would be a shame to waste all that practising we’ve done. Besides, I need to show off a bit as the
sharp-faced blonde in the pale blue chiffon number was nasty to me when I was trying to find Michael.’

Verity glanced over at the girl in question as she danced. ‘She’s got a rat face,’ she said and giggled. ‘No threat to you in any way. She looks cross already, because there are two airmen watching us like hawks.’

‘I’m not going to look, it’s beneath me,’ Ruby said. ‘But you can describe them.’

‘Your one looks like he’s spent too long in the sun today. A bright red, shiny moonface, he’s not very tall, about five foot six I’d say, with sandy hair which will blend well with yours.’

Ruby giggled at the unflattering description. ‘Lovely, almost worth taking a look. What’s yours like?’

‘Now he
is
a bit scrumptious,’ Verity said, looking over Ruby’s shoulder. ‘Slender, tall, very dark hair, suntanned face, small moustache. His teeth look really white, but he’s too far away to see the colour of his eyes.’

‘I’ll spin you round a bit more, so I can see them without being obvious,’ Ruby said.

The girls went round the dance floor several times, and before the number ended Ruby was making jokes about ‘her’ man, calling him Walter and saying she knew he was a sweaty-hand man, just by his red face. Unfortunately, the dark-haired airman had turned his face away from the dance floor to speak to another man, so neither girl could get a good look at him.

The MC, an elderly man with a red waistcoat, got up on stage to say the band were having a short break. After getting a couple of glasses of squash, Ruby suggested they went to the Ladies to add some gin to it.

By the time they came out, more people had arrived, many of them older couples, some of whom the girls had met at church and through Wilby’s fund-raising work.

Ruby didn’t make any comment, but Verity felt her stiffen in the way she always did when she’d decided she was bored, or that it wasn’t her ‘thing’.

The band struck up ‘Don’t Fence Me In’, and some of the men began singing it. The girls just stood at the edge of the dance floor, not wanting to dance to that number.

‘I feel quite squiffy,’ Verity admitted.

‘Me too,’ Ruby said. ‘But then we aren’t used to drinking gin.’

All at once Verity noticed the two airmen she’d seen earlier were walking around the dance floor in their direction. She knew they could be making their way to some other girls – there were at least twenty sitting on the chairs at the side of the hall, and more standing by the dance floor, just as they were – but she sensed the men were coming to ask them to dance. She didn’t draw Ruby’s attention to them, in case she was wrong, and deliberately turned slightly so she wasn’t watching them.

‘Would you ladies care to dance? Well, at least the next number, this one’s awful.’

The girls turned simultaneously at the sound of the rich, deep voice. To Verity’s surprise it was the one with the sunburned face who was speaking, not the very handsome dark one.

His good-looking friend was staring at Ruby, almost as if he was dumbstruck by her.

‘We’d love to,’ Verity replied. She felt she must be polite,
as Ruby had said nothing and was looking just as hard at him, as he was at her. ‘I’m Verity Wood. This is Ruby Taylor.’

‘Bevan Arkright,’ the red-faced airman said, shaking Verity’s hand. ‘And my friend, who appears to have been struck dumb, is Luke Moore.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Luke said, holding out his hand. ‘Please forgive me, I was distracted. I’m very pleased to meet you, Verity. That’s a pretty name. And Ruby, so well named, your hair under that light really is the colour of rubies.’

Verity half expected her friend to say something cutting about insincere flattery, as she had on many an occasion to men who tried to engage her in conversation. But not this time. She was smiling at him, really smiling, and it was very clear to Verity that, even though it had only been a joke when she said the dark one was hers, it was quite apparent that was no longer the case.

She didn’t mind being left with Bevan. His voice was lovely, and close up he wasn’t so bad-looking. ‘You’ve been out in the sun today?’ she said.

He smiled ruefully. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I do it every summer, even though I tell myself I won’t. You obviously don’t have the problem of burning, you have a nice tan.’

‘Don’t Fence Me In’ ended and the band struck up ‘I’ll Get By’ by Harry James.

‘Shall we?’ Bevan asked. And taking her hand, he led her out on to the floor.

He was a very good dancer, light on his feet and leading her superbly. He told her he was in Babbacombe to train as an air gunner, and that he came from a village in the Cotswolds.

As he whirled her round, Verity saw that Ruby was dancing with Luke. They seemed much closer to each other than was usual for a first dance, and they were still looking into each other’s eyes.

‘I’ve never seen Luke react like that to a girl before,’ Bevan said thoughtfully. ‘It’s like she’s a girl from his past. But she can’t be, can she?’

‘Where does he come from?’ Verity asked. ‘Ruby has lived here since she was fourteen, and before that in London.’

‘He’s from Cheltenham, we met at school there,’ Bevan said. ‘And he’s never been to Devon before we got sent here for training.’

‘Then maybe we’re just witnessing love at first sight,’ Verity said with a light laugh. ‘How romantic!’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Bevan chuckled. ‘Well, Verity, it looks like we’re on our own now. They don’t seem to have eyes for anything but one another.’

Ruby couldn’t believe what she was feeling. She was dancing with a total stranger who so far had only said a few words to her, yet all she wanted was to stay on the dance floor with this man’s arms around her.

The touch of his fingers on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers, felt so good, sending tingles down her spine. His cheek wasn’t quite touching hers yet, but she knew it soon would be, his breath was soft on her face and he smelled faintly of lavender. As for his body, that wasn’t actually pressed to her, but she wished it was, and the closeness of him was making her head spin.

‘Have you been to a dance here before?’ he asked.

His voice was melodic, with no trace of a regional accent. Once she would have called it a posh voice, but she was too used to English spoken correctly these days to remark on it.

She looked up. The top of her head only reached his shoulder, so she had to tilt her head back to see him properly. Dark, shiny hair slicked back from a suntanned, bony face, a narrow, neatly trimmed moustache and eyes that looked almost black. He was a handsome man, there was no question about that, and he wore his RAF uniform well.

‘No, never,’ she said. ‘I live close by. But work, commitments at home and suchlike have turned me into a bit of a hermit.’

‘A very beautiful hermit,’ he said. ‘Tell me now if you’ve been crossed in love and this is the reason you’ve been a hermit.’

Ruby thought hard before she answered. ‘There was a man who disappointed me. He wasn’t who I imagined he was,’ she admitted. ‘But I certainly haven’t been pining for him. I think I had a lucky escape.’

All at once she felt like a bird that had been released from a cage.

She wasn’t going to spend another moment brooding on Michael or what had happened to her.

She was free!

Verity liked Bevan. He was a real gentleman, funny, warm and very quick-witted. The sort of man she knew Wilby would totally approve of. She hoped he’d want to see her again after tonight too.

But she didn’t think she was going to melt when he kissed her.

They had danced lots of dances, and sat a few out for a proper conversation. She knew now he was one of four boys, that he’d got a degree in chemistry, and after the war he intended to work for one of the big pharmaceutical companies. His mother sounded like the ideal mother, cooking, doing the garden and fussing over her boys. His father was a vet and he’d gone off to the first war just as Bevan had been born. But he was one of the lucky ones, as he’d come home unscathed. The two brothers next to him were in the army, safe so far, but had been out in North Africa. The youngest brother was still too young at sixteen to be called up.

Everything he’d told her so far had painted a picture of a well-adjusted, happy man. He even seemed very excited about his gunner training, and couldn’t wait to have his first flight and put the training into practice.

‘Aren’t you scared of being shot down?’ Verity asked him.

‘It’s better not to think about that,’ he said lightly. ‘A friend of mine from school was a pilot in the Battle of Britain, and he bought it after only three sorties. Terrible, but back then it was common. The planes are better now, though, or so we’re told.’

‘Well, I think you are very brave,’ she said. ‘I was in London during the Blitz and that was very scary at times, but there were shelters to run into. Miles up in the air, in a plane with someone firing at you, that’s a whole different thing.’

He smiled, a little sadly she thought, but didn’t respond.

‘That was a tactless thing for me to say,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘We’ve all got our part to play in this war. Now why don’t you tell me what your part is?’

Verity looked around later as the band struck up and saw Ruby and Luke were still locked together on the dance floor, not really dancing but shuffling around with their arms around each other, clearly oblivious to anything but one another.

Bevan chuckled. ‘This is a new Luke to me, he usually keeps a very cool head. I’d say they were smitten with one another, wouldn’t you?’

Verity nodded. She wished she didn’t feel a tiny bit jealous. Bevan was a perfectly nice man, but she didn’t think he could ever make her feel the way Ruby looked right now.

‘I don’t remember people falling so fast for one another before the war,’ Bevan said.

‘Neither do I,’ Verity agreed. ‘I suppose it’s because we don’t know what’s around the corner. Will you and Luke be going off somewhere else soon?’

‘Next week, I think,’ he said. ‘We don’t even know to which airfield, either. Luke and I hope it’s down this way, but we could be sent to Somerset, Kent or even East Anglia.’

‘I hope you don’t get sent that far away,’ she said.

‘I’d like to think that’s because you want to see me again,’ he said with a grin. ‘But I’ve got a sneaky suspicion you are speaking for Ruby.’