Cockney Orphan (20 page)

Connie heard the guard blow his whistle. The train began to move slowly out of Paddington, as though reluctant to leave. Where was Vic? His letter was in her bag, The day, time and place were
engraved in her mind. She knew every word by heart.

Someone bumped into her. She stumbled sideways and was grabbed by two big hands. ‘Jeez, little lady, I almost knocked you off your feet!’

Connie looked up into the friendly face of the GI. ‘I’m all right,’ she told him a little unsteadily, then smiling shyly added, ‘You can let go of me now.’

Looking embarrassed, he put her back on her feet. ‘Heck, my apologies, ma’am. Did I hurt you?’

‘No, I’m fine – really, I am.’

‘You’re so – well – kinda delicate looking – if you don’t mind me saying.’

Connie blushed as she straightened her jacket and the blue-eyed stranger continued to stare at her. Her costume was new, well, nearly new from the market. A lilac two-piece as slim as a pencil,
flattering her tiny waist with its nipped-in pleats. Ada had been with her when she bought it and found a matching felt hat in almost the same shade, with an upswept brim and a purple petersham
ribbon trim. Connie had splashed out on accessories: second-hand but well-preserved high-heeled shoes and a dark leather bag with rouleau handles. The outfit had cost over three pounds but she
hadn’t needed coupons, always a plus when you shopped at Cox Street. Now she decided by the attention it was drawing, the investment was worth every penny.

‘Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?’ His blue eyes were dazzling under his silver crew-cut. The three upside down stripes indicated his rank, a sergeant.

‘You didn’t at all.’

He looked along the crowded platform. ‘Can I – er – make up for my mistake and escort you somewhere?’

Connie went on her toes to glance round. ‘I’m looking for my fiancé, actually. He was supposed to be on this train.’

The GI chuckled. ‘So was half of the country, ma’am.’

‘It’s his first leave in ten months,’ Connie said proudly. ‘He’s been promoted to lieutenant. I’m not sure I’ll recognize him in his new
uniform.’

‘Well, he’ll sure recognize you.’

She blushed again, then, glancing along the platform, she moved away. ‘Well, I’d better go.’

He nodded. ‘It was nice meeting you, as the English say.’ He was still staring after her when she turned back, a head and shoulders above the crowd.

She felt flattered, but all she could think of was Vic. It was now three fifteen. He’d promised to meet her under the clock on the hour. What if his leave had been cancelled? Her spirits
began to sink. She’d waited for this moment for so long.

‘Connie! Connie!’

She turned, her heart racing. All she could see was a sea of faces. Had she been dreaming his call?

‘Darling . . .’ He emerged from the crowd and a pair of strong arms swept round her.

She buried her head in his shoulder, the hot tears squashed on her lashes. He lifted her face and kissed her, a long, hungry kiss that they had both been waiting for so long. ‘You look so
distinguished in your flat cap,’ she gulped, ‘and a lovely new jacket instead of the tunic. Oh, Vic, you’ve earned your wavy gold line! I’m so proud of you.’

‘And by God, I’m proud of you.’ He was drinking her in. ‘The reason I’m late,’ he whispered huskily as he pressed flowers into her hand.

‘Oh, they’re lovely.’

‘Connie, I’ve missed you.’

She threw her arms around him. ‘Me too.’

He held her tightly, a shudder going through him as he whispered in her hair, ‘Let’s get out of here.’

She nodded, reaching for his hand. ‘Where shall we go?’

‘Our place, the Embankment.’

He slid his hand around her waist as they hurried to the station exit. All around them, lovers were doing the same, trying to find a moment in time that was all theirs, with so much to tell and
so little time to tell it in.

They jumped on a bus at Marble Arch. It was a beautiful afternoon as they strolled to Westminster and sat in Embankment Gardens. A hot August sun was dipping in the sky,
turning the Thames to a molten gold. London was crammed with couples, strolling and laughing, or seated on the grass or benches, lost in their own worlds. ‘I don’t know where to
start,’ Connie sighed as she snuggled close to Vic, his arm laying lightly behind her on the bench. ‘I had so much to tell you and now it’s all gone out of my mind.’

‘Tell me all the things I’ve only been able to imagine.’

She began with Lucky, describing his first steps and

first words, his baby language and the little pearls that had

appeared in his mouth one by one. She told him how the Blitz had finally come to an end, though the raids continued randomly and other cities and towns were fiercely targeted. She described
their Saturday afternoons with Gran and how she and Pat went to the market sometimes, and she made him laugh when she told him about Billy and his first big fight a year ago. She’d written
all her news in her letters and felt as though she was repeating herself, but he didn’t seem to mind as he sat beside her, looking so handsome in his new officer’s uniform.

‘You’d better stop me,’ she sighed, ‘or I’ll go on for ever.’

He ran his thumb over her chin. ‘Why should I want you to stop? Your voice is music to my ears.’

‘All right then. Tell me you missed me.’

‘I’d show you just how much if we were on our own.’

‘Go on then,’ she teased. ‘I dare you.’

He inched forward, his eyes full of mischief, then taking her in his arms he hugged her. ‘Oh, Con, I want you all to myself.’

‘You’ve got me.’

‘Where would you like to go?’

‘Let’s stay on this seat for ever.’

He kissed her slowly, the warmth of his body and his passionate lips making her dizzy with joy. She didn’t care who saw them. London was full of couples in love doing exactly the same
thing.

‘You look so lovely, sweetheart,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘There’s not a girl I’ve seen who can hold a candle to you.’

She looked at him sideways. ‘Just how many have you seen then?’

He chuckled softly. ‘Where I’ve been lately the females wore big fur coats and snow boots. When we went ashore it was impossible to tell if they were young or old.’

Connie’s face fell. ‘I thought your ship was in the Mediterranean.’

‘It was but at Malta we were ordered back to Scotland on the double.’

‘What for?

‘To make the run from Scapa Flow to Mermansk and Archangel. It’s the route our supply convoys take to Russia. The Russians are desperate for supplies as Jerry’s cut them off
from all sides, so it’s only us that are keeping them going.’ He paused, pushing back his dark hair, and Connie realized how exhausted he looked.

‘Is it dangerous?’

‘It’s bloody cold.’ He grinned. ‘So cold that the spray comes up from the bow and freezes mid air. If a ship ices up she goes top heavy and turns turtle. Half the time
we’re using steam hoses to disperse the ice.’

‘Isn’t there another way to Russia?’

‘If there is, the British navy’s not found it.’

‘Were you seasick?’

He laughed. ‘Not half. The
Oxford
is nine thousand tons in weight but she’s bounced around like a ball on waves as big as mountains. On one trip all our depth charges and
the rear six-inch gun turret were ripped up from the deck and washed overboard, just like that.’

‘Thank God I didn’t know. I’d have been worried to death. You never said in your letters.’

He trailed a finger down her cheek. ‘Can’t, can I? Everything is hush-hush.’

‘I couldn’t stand it if I didn’t hear from you, even though you don’t have much to say.’

He jerked an eyebrow. ‘That’s a back-handed compliment if ever I heard one.’

‘I like the kisses you draw though.’

‘Come here and let me give you a real one.’

Connie slipped her hands around his neck. How many times had she dreamed of this moment? ‘Mr Burns let me have all this week off,’ she whispered proudly. ‘He knew I
wasn’t going to take no for an answer.’

‘That’s my girl.’ He grinned, kissing the tip of her nose.

‘Mum is cooking a slap-up dinner tonight and Pat and Laurie are taking us out to the pub. Your Gran said she’d babysit Doris and Lucky so we won’t have to get back early. And
Taffy, that’s Billy’s boss, has offered to drive us in his lorry if we want.’

‘I wish I hadn’t sold the car now. The first thing I do when the war is over is buy a new one.’

‘The first thing I want to do this week,’ Connie said impetuously, ‘is get married.’

‘What!’

‘Well, why not? We can get a special licence. Lots of people do.’ Her face fell as she stared at him. ‘Have you changed your mind about marrying me?’

‘Don’t be daft, Con. You know I want to get married. But I want you to have a proper wedding.’

‘I just want to be Mrs Victor Champion, that’s all.’

He looked hard into her eyes. ‘You might now, but in the years to come I don’t want you regretting we never had the full works. The vicar, the dress, bridesmaids, the reception and
the honeymoon. Now, isn’t that dream worth waiting for?’

Connie bit down on her lip. ‘So the answer’s still no?’

He laughed softly, shaking his head. ‘We have all our lives ahead of us.’

Why wouldn’t he listen to her? The war might not be over for months – years, probably.

‘Trust me, sweetheart.’

‘It’s Hitler I don’t trust.’

‘All the more reason not to let him spoil our plans.’ He kissed her again, then whispered, ‘Now, I’ve a surprise for you.’

She smiled reluctantly. ‘Stop trying to change the subject.’

‘There’s a club up West called Valentino’s. A pal of mine, Georgie Mullen’s second cousin runs it – or he might be third – anyway, we’ve just got to
give him the nod and we’re dancing the night away.’

‘Dancing!’ Connie held her breath. ‘I haven’t danced in years! What would I wear?’

‘What you’re wearing now. You’ll outshine every girl in the room.’

‘Victor Champion, you can twist me round your little finger, I’m ashamed to say.’

‘Is that so?’ His dark eyes twinkled as he added softly, ‘Tell me again when we’re on our own.’

They sat a few seconds longer, drinking in the magic of the moment. Then, holding hands, they stood up and turned to walk down the narrow stretch of Embankment that led towards home.

‘Have you two made any plans yet for the future?’ her mother asked one evening after a meal as they stood at the draining board, looking through the kitchen window
at Ebbie and Vic sitting on the bench in the yard. With their feet up on the remains of the Anderson roof, the two men were enjoying a beer.

‘I’d get married tomorrow, Mum,’ Connie sighed as she continued to wash the dishes. ‘But Vic is against it until the war is over.’

‘Is the war his only reason?’

Connie laughed in surprise. ‘What other one is there?’

Olive continued with the drying. ‘It’s not Lucky that’s in the way, is it?’

Connie stiffened. ‘What do you mean, “in the way”? You know how much Vic cares for him.’

‘My point exactly.’ Olive nodded. ‘P’raps he doesn’t want to get fond of the boy. What if Lucky’s father is a prisoner of war somewhere? At the end of the
last war, men turned up for years after. Some had been presumed dead and their families had given up hope. It could happen again. Have you thought of that?’

‘I’ve thought of everything, Mum, until my brain aches,’ Connie replied shortly, wondering why a nice evening had to be spoiled. ‘No one knows when the war will end, or
what will happen at the end of it. If Lucky is still with me then and no one’s claimed him, we’ll adopt. I know that’s what Vic wants too.’

Her mother frowned. ‘I’m not being picky, Constance, and I’m the first to admit that I didn’t know how we were going to cope with a baby in the house. But now I
wouldn’t be without him and this is what worries me.’

‘Oh, Mum, let me do the worrying, will you?’ Seeing the distress in her mother’s face, Connie dried her hands on the tea towel and drew the small, rigid figure towards her.
‘What’s brought all this on?’

Olive heaved a deep sigh. ‘I suppose it’s seeing you and Vic at the beginning of your lives. I start thinking of all the problems your dad and me had to get over in raising a family.
It’s just as you get older the fears get stronger, especially for your children. The uncanny thing is Lucky is you all over as a baby. The same wavy blond hair and blue eyes. His quick smile
and happy personality. Sometimes I really believe he’s my own grandchild.’

Connie held her mother’s hands. ‘If his mother hears you saying that, she’ll be happy in heaven.’

‘Oh, Constance, that poor girl. We don’t even know who she was. It’s like she was hardly here at all, and except for Lucky the world wouldn’t know she’d been part
of it.’

Connie nodded slowly. ‘I think about her too. But what I remember most is the way she was desperate for me not just to find him, but look after him. I feel she’d been through a lot
and I don’t mean just the Blitz. It was in her eyes, that look, an expression I’ll never forget.’

Olive’s fingers went up to gently touch Connie’s face. ‘She was fortunate you came along that night and saved her little baby and took his guardianship so seriously. But
I’m a mother, Constance, and you are my blood. So it’s only natural I worry about you.’ She expelled a weary sigh as she moved away and returned to the drying. ‘You always
was an independent child with a mind of your own.’

Connie was about to reply when Vic grinned at her through the window. The two men came laughing and joking through the kitchen door and put an end to Connie and Olive’s heart-to-heart.

Taffy drove Connie and Vic up to town and dropped them outside the club. Valentino’s illuminated sign was still in place despite the blackout. The V had fallen lopsidedly
and the glass behind was secured with tape. But the door below looked as though it had just undergone a fresh lick of paint.

Inside the small foyer a tall man smoking a cigarette was standing by a pair of double doors. ‘Reckon he’s the gaffer,’ Vic whispered to Connie. ‘I’ll be back in a
blink.’