Beware This Boy (27 page)

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Authors: Maureen Jennings

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Traditional, #War & Military, #Traditional British

BOOK: Beware This Boy
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It was almost midnight and Eileen knew she should get to sleep, but she was too agitated to even try. She took out her Mass Observation diary.

Lev Kaplan asked me to go to the pictures with him. He said I deserved it after what had happened this morning. I immediately said no, I couldn’t possibly, but he pressed me. “Why not? It’s no disrespect to Frankie and the other girls if we try to grasp at whatever pleasure we can while we can.” Words to that effect anyway, although he put it more elegantly. He has a way with words, does Mr. Kaplan. He’s right. At least I think he is. Francine is going to be all right, but she will have some
disfigurement for the rest of her life. Poor girl. She was always so proud of her lovely long hair.

Eileen paused. What she wanted to write about she was reluctant to share with Mass Observation. She decided to continue anyway.

I can hardly remember what the film was about. Michael Wilding doing something or other with Anna Neagle. The only seats left were in the back row and I felt some misgivings about sitting there. Lev seemed oblivious. Is this just an English custom – the back-row courtships? It was soon apparent nobody was there to see a film. I felt quite ridiculous. The man seated next to me was virtually moaning as he kissed his girlfriend. His hand was clearly in a very intimate place. I was trying to cut him out of my consciousness and concentrate on the film but it was almost impossible. Then Lev whispered in my ear, “If we can’t beat them, let’s join them.” He turned my chin and kissed me
.

Eileen stopped writing. What a sweet, long kiss it had been. His lips were soft. Had men’s lips always been that soft? There was more tenderness and exploration than passion in that kiss.

I couldn’t shake off my self-consciousness. I’m over forty, for heaven’s sake, not fourteen. But the cinema was dark. I hoped nobody would see us. I wanted him to kiss me again, but he didn’t right away. He turned back to the film although he kept hold of my hand. He seemed comfortable in a way I wasn’t at all. He laughed at some antic on the screen. All I could think of was when he would kiss me again. He must have read my mind,
because after a while he turned again. I could see his smile. “Are you okay?” he asked. I wanted to say, “No, I’m not. I want to go somewhere where we can lie naked together, where I can feel you inside me. I don’t care if we’ve only just met. We could be dead tomorrow and I would never have known the bliss of being made love to by a man like you.” But of course I couldn’t say that and simply nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. He did kiss me again, but it wasn’t like the first kiss. This time there was more intensity to it. I could hardly breathe. The man next to me must have had his orgasm, because his groans were stifled. His girlfriend was giggling and he was jerking. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to be acting like a teenager. I suddenly felt cold and removed. I didn’t want to kiss anymore. The film wasn’t over yet but a couple a few rows in front of us got up and left. “Let’s take their seat,” I said to Lev. I didn’t give him much chance to answer and I stood up with my coat. I was almost afraid to go past the noisy couple on my left but they were both lighting cigarettes and didn’t seem to be aware of me at all. The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen, the boy hardly any older. We did go and sit in the other seats and it was better, although if my life depended on it, I don’t think I could recall the plot of the film. Lev had brought chocolates with him and I ate more than I should. I regretted it later
.

About seven thirty, just before the film ended, there was an air-raid warning. The second one today. The film was stopped and the little nervous manager came out to tell us we could leave for the shelter. They couldn’t give a refund as more than half of the film had been played. Those who wanted could stay at their own risk and watch the rest. Only a few people left, and after a
brief consultation, Lev and I decided to stick it out. We didn’t hear any bombs dropping, so either it was a false alarm or the bombers were heading somewhere else, the way they did this morning. Bristol or Liverpool probably – surely Coventry can’t get hit again. Poor people. It was even more difficult to concentrate with half an ear on what was happening outside, but even though I couldn’t see anybody in the dark, I felt as if we were all connected by the invisible bonds of fear and defiance. At least it took me away from my agitation, so I’m thankful for that. The all-clear sounded half an hour later, almost at the same time that
THE END
flashed on the screen. We laughed at that. Then the lights went on and we filed out, smiling and chatting to each other like old friends as if we had cheated the Nazi war machine, which I suppose we had in a way
.

The night was so overcast we thought we were probably safe from another raid and we actually found a café open. I’d never been in it before and it looked decidedly seedy, but I didn’t want to go home yet and neither did he. And it was seedy, the air heavy with stale grease that clung to my clothes after. But the tea was all right and they had some scones left. They were rock-hard but we took them anyway. Lev said, “Eileen, forgive me for the back-row thing. They were the only seats left. I think I embarrassed you.” I didn’t want to lie, so I just said, “Well, we’re not teenagers, are we?” I wasn’t going to say how much I still felt that kiss. Then he leaned closer so nobody could hear us. “I would like to make love to you properly. Is there any possibility that could ever happen, dear Miss Abbott?”

My God. What could I say? I made a feeble joke that it was all right to call me by my first name now that
we’d kissed. The café was filled with men in uniform and their girls. All younger than us, of course. I seemed to be surrounded by love, or certainly a desperate lust
.

“I’d like that,” I said. The words were out of my mouth before I knew it
.

So that was more or less that. He said he’s going back to London soon. He has digs there. But he said that Mrs. Cooper goes to her daughter’s in the country every weekend. Perhaps we could work it out for me to come and stay. I agreed, although I don’t know how I’m going to do that. Not with the Brian situation hanging over us
.

Again Eileen stopped writing for a moment. The house was silent, everybody asleep except her.

Things were very bad before I went out. Brian was desperate and couldn’t sit down for more than a minute. He’s upset that he can’t see Vanessa. I made him take a sedative to calm him down. I don’t know how she is going to deal with that pregnancy. Over tea, Brian told Dad and me what he’d already told Mum, that he might be able to get papers to get him to Ireland. It will cost money but we’re willing to pay if we have to. He says Jack can be the go-between and nobody questioned that. Later perhaps we will take our respective heads out of the sand where that boy is concerned
.

She closed the diary and replaced it at the back of the drawer. Her room was chilly but it was too late to build up the fire. A needless extravagance. Her thoughts leaped to being in bed with Lev. It had been such a long time since she had experienced sexual intimacy, and that last time hadn’t been particularly fulfilling. She had imagined herself in love
with one of the office managers at Endicott’s. She knew he was married but he said he was separated. Not true, as it turned out. But they had gone to a hotel in the country for a weekend. The lovemaking had been rather perfunctory. Indeed, she had to say
dull
. He had spent most of the time complaining about his wife and kids, who were feckless. What she had seen in him she couldn’t imagine and she was glad when he moved away to Nottingham. And now there was Lev. And she had never in her life felt like this about anybody before.

She turned out her bedside lamp, got out of bed, and went over to the window. She pulled back the blackout curtain. It was so dark outside she could hardly see past the end of the front garden, but she caught the tiny flash of a torch. The air-raid warden was making his rounds. She knew him – Reg Anderson from the next street. He was too old to be doing this but he insisted. Watching his slow progress, she felt absurdly weepy.

She went back to her bed. How could she have been daydreaming about loving a strange man when all this life and death was on her doorstep? Another war within her lifetime. Another time when young, vital men lost their lives. Another time when women wept.

Tyler was sitting with Alf Mason in the common room. They’d had a decent enough meal and were now into the cigar-and-brandy stage. “Like gents,” said Alf. “Drink up, it’s the last bottle.” There were three constables – one of them Eagleton – playing a spirited game of darts, and the wireless was broadcasting some
BBC
light music program. Tyler could actually feel himself relaxing.

Eagleton hit a bull’s eye and let out a loud cheer. Considering he wasn’t wearing his spectacles, it was a quite a feat.

Mason turned back to Tyler. “Do you remember when we used to hide our duty arm bands and pretend we were off-duty so we could go into the pub? You were darts-mad in those days and you were always on the lookout for a match.”

“Not to mention a pint,” added Tyler.

“That too.”

Tyler grinned. “We must have had wool for noggins. We could have got dismissed on the spot if we’d been found out.”

“Might not have been such a bad thing. I would have bought my own pub and been a wealthy man by now instead of an underpaid copper.”

“True.”

They lapsed into the comfortable silence of old friends.

Alf flicked off some cigar ash. “What’s your take, then, Tom? Are you chalking up this latest incident to another accident? More carelessness?”

Tyler blew out some of the rich cigar smoke. “It is looking like that. I examined Francine’s lathe but those machines were built decades ago. The guard had come loose and slipped down between the wheels. Francine was also apparently in the habit of leaving some of her hair out of her turban. Thought the turban was ugly.”

“Sounds like a contemporary morality play. The fruits of vanity.”

It was Tyler who swished around his brandy this time. “They’re young girls, most of them. A bit of vanity is allowed, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re talking to somebody who has two daughters, Tom.”

“The wheel should have stopped immediately when her hair got caught, but it didn’t,” continued Tyler. “Apparently there’s been more than one of these accidents. Nobody has
been scalped before, thank God, but there have been badly bruised fingers.”

“Endicott should have them replaced,” said Alf. “The lathes, I mean.”

“I agree. The workers have been asking for new models since the factory was commandeered, but so far Endicott has been dragging his feet.”

“He’s got a reputation of being a skinflint.”

Tyler stabbed the air with his cigar. “I’m going to make it part of my recommendations. ‘Replace decrepit machines.’ ”

Alf laughed. “You’re enjoying the chance to throw your weight around, aren’t you, Tommy. I always knew you were a bit of a bolshie.”

“Me! You, more like.”

“Not so. But the older I get, the more I get fed up with the privileged few ruling the roost.”

Tyler raised his glass. “I’m with you there, Alf. My fighting ancestors go back a long way.”

Alf clicked his glass against Tyler’s. “Here’s to the revolution.”

They both sipped the brandy, Tyler making noises of appreciation. “Good stuff, Alf.”

“Savour it, mate. Like I said, that’s the last bottle I’ve got. Everything’s vanishing into the black market.” He scowled. “I hate profiteers like poison.”

Tyler nodded. He hadn’t told Alf that in the summer he’d been on the point of arresting his own father-in-law for dabbling in the black market.

“Speaking of which,” continued Alf, “did Endicott have any reaction to the incident?”

“He vanished. His secretary whispered in my ear that the poor man has a phobia about blood. Faints dead away at the very sight.”

Alf grinned. “That could be convenient or inconvenient, depending on your point of view. Anyway, with regard to the other matter, wish I could be of more help.”

“No, you have been, Alf. Just the chance to run things by you has been grand. And getting access to the police files without having to go through red tape.”

“None of those on your list have police form, I gather.”

“Not one. All clean as whistles.”

“Like I said, we’re pretty thorough about screening the munitions workers.”

“Young Eager over there did manage to check out the Yank I mentioned,” said Tyler. “He seems bona fide. Commissioned by the Ministry of Information to make documentaries. I’m glad he’s cleared, to tell you the truth. He seems like a good bloke. He was right there when needed. Very steady. Besides which, I think he and the nurse fancy each other. I’d hate to see her hurt.”

“I wish the Yanks would get off the po and join us,” said Alf. “Don’t say I said this, but I’m not sure England can survive without them.”

Tyler nodded. “It’s looking grimmer every day, Alf.”

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