For All Our Tomorrows (7 page)

‘He’s fortunate he didn’t blow the entire crew to kingdom come, and half the town along with him. Look what happened with H.M.S. Gloucester City early in the war. She might have been fortunate enough to escape being hit, and thank God, considering she was fully loaded with munitions at the time, but there was hardly a window in town that wasn’t broken by the blast.’

‘Oh, I don’t think this was a big bomb or anything of that sort. Not like the Gloucester at all.’ Some instinct made Sara turn and look back, just in time to see Charles Denham pause at the door of the hall, meeting her gaze across the small square with a quiet smile as if they shared a secret, before slipping inside.

‘That man is a liability,’ he said, and Sara jumped.

‘Which man?’

‘Can’t you focus your mind on anything for more than half a minute. What a scatterbrain you are turning into. Even worse than usual.’ Hugh finally registered the direction of her gaze and frowned at the now empty doorway. ‘Who are you looking for? You weren’t wanting to go back in there, were you? I’ve locked up now. Time we were in bed.’

‘No, no, of course not. The dance is over, everyone will be off back to base. I was simply looking for Bette, to say goodnight, but it doesn’t matter.’

The moment she slid between the covers Hugh pulled her to him and began to kiss her with an urgency she hadn’t known in months.

‘Hey, not so fast. Give me a chance to catch up.’

‘You don’t have to do anything. You’re no doubt too tired, anyway, after all your
hard
work,
but I need to know that I do still have a wife.’ The spiteful tone in his voice was stronger than ever, and, pushing her back against the pillows he thrust hard into her. Sara held him close and wished with all her heart that she could feel something more than compassion.

Over the next few days The Ship was inundated with GIs coming in especially to thank her.

‘Gee, is it right that you were the gal who organised the dance? Can’t thank you enough. Had the best time ever.’

‘Changed my life,’ said his mate, while another wailed something about meeting the love of his life but then losing sight of her and not even managing to get her name. His comrades, however, treated this as a huge joke, pummelling and thumping him, laughing at his earnestness and telling him that she probably did give him her name but he was too drunk to remember.

‘If I describe her to you,’ he said sadly to Sara, ‘Do you reckon you could pick her out and tell her I really do love her and want to see her again.’

Sara did her best, listening with patience to his muddled description which might have fitted any one of a dozen girls in Fowey. He was not the only one to come to her with such problems. So many dates had been made that night, was it any wonder if some details such as names or addresses were lost or muddled in the confusion.

Then there were the dates that did take place but went wrong, perhaps because in the sober light of day, one or other of the couple concerned looked less enchanting than memory, and the dim lighting in the hall had led them to believe. Or perhaps the poor marine simply got lost driving the narrow country roads trying to find her. Then there were the guys who were stood up because the girl had come to her senses, or got a better offer. And the girls who’d been left waiting in vain because the GI in question had suddenly remembered that he had a wife already, back home.

Sara became their agony aunt, the one they all turned to with their troubles. Local girls too would come sneaking into her kitchen through the back door to say much the same sort of thing.

And those whose parents had not allowed them to attend were asking when there was to be another dance, and if they could have a soldier next time.

None of this pleased Hugh one little bit. ‘Why are they pestering
you
? Why won’t they leave you alone? You’ve done your duty, now it’s over. What happens next in their sordid little lives is not your responsibility.’

‘They’re not bad boys, and many of them are homesick. I’m only trying to help.’

Bunches of flowers started arriving, a box of chocolates, and on one occasion, a whole crate of apples together with several bags of sugar. ‘Next time,’ said the note enclosed. ‘Please make some apple pies. That’s what we miss the most.’

‘Look at this,’ she laughed, holding out the note to show Hugh. ‘They think I’m their momma.’

He went quite red in the face. ‘They do not. Haven’t I told you, Sara, to take care. I will not have you being used. These men are nothing but trouble.’

Night after night the marines, and their adoring fan club, continued to pour into The Ship and it was Sara, not Hugh who they wanted to serve them.
 

‘You’ve got a national treasure here, man,‘ they told him. ‘I hope you appreciate her.’

‘What a doll!’

‘She sure does know how to make a guy happy.’

‘And this is the best apple pie I ever did taste.’

‘Aw gee, you can cook up a storm for me any time, sweetheart?’

Hugh endured all of this for a couple of weeks or more, and then made his announcement. ‘I believe it would be for the best if you ceased to work in the bar.’

‘What?’

‘I’ve arranged for Iris to take over your job on a permanent basis. I will not have my wife make an exhibition of herself, or have these Yanks flirt and harass you in this way. Nor do I enjoy being made the butt of their jokes.’

‘They aren’t laughing at you, or flirting with me. I’ve told you, they are simply homesick and want to show their appreciation for the fact that the townsfolk have made them feel welcome.’ Sara might like to have added, everyone except you, that is, but managed to hold back.

Hugh wasn’t listening. ‘I’ve made my decision, Sara, and I will be obeyed. I mean to have my way in this. Understood? You may continue to work upstairs, dealing with any guests, and in the kitchen making the pasties, of course, that sort of thing. You can clean the place, flush the pumps and pipes through and so on: all the usual chores, but I will not have you present behind the bar when it is open for business. Is that clear?’

And all she could do was to bite her tongue and agree.

Chapter Seven

Bette and Chad were secreted in what had already become their favourite spot, tucked in the rocks on Whitehouse beach, and Bette had almost made up her mind that she was in love. But was this a good enough reason to allow him to ‘go all the way’. Much as she ached to let him, she really didn’t think she should. Sara had lectured her yet again about taking care not to trust too easily and what if she was right? What if he did have another girl back in North Carolina, or Savannah, or one in every port for all she knew.

‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,’ she said, panting for breath and pushing him reluctantly away. ‘It’s too soon. We’ve hardly known each other any time at all.’

‘Aw, hon, I feel as if I’ve known you for a life-time, even if it is only a few weeks.’

‘You’ll go back to America next month, next year, whenever the war ends, and forget all about me. You haven’t even told me if you’re married.’

Chad looked deeply offended. ‘Hey, what a thing to say! I’ve no one back home, no wife, no girl friend, only my Momma and Poppa, a young brother, and my sister Mary Lou. I could never forget you, hon. Boy, you’re a gal in a million.’

Bette tugged down the skirt of her dress, which had somehow got all rucked up, and slapped his exploring hand away. ‘Then why don’t you behave like a guy in a million and slow down.’ But she was smiling as she spoke, in order to soften her words and show that she wasn’t too cross, holding out the hint of a promise that she might even change her mind one day. ‘You never told me about the restaurants.’

‘Restaurants?’ He frowned, looking puzzled, as well he might.

‘Diners then. Barney told me all about the business you run together in Savannah.’

Chad paled. ‘Hey, what’s he been saying?’

‘He explained that your families were in the food business, and that you and he, the younger generation, got together to make your fortune and now own a string of restaurants, sorry - diners. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Gazing into her trusting eyes, Chad guessed what had happened. Barney had been shooting his mouth off, as usual, and this little gal would swallow just about anything. She was so innocent and knew so little about the reality of America, that big old country of his across the pond, that she’d believe whatever they told her. But he was equally to blame. He’d never meant to mislead her, only to impress. Now Barney had evidently made the situation a whole lot worse. Maybe he should confess that he’d exaggerated and tell her the truth. ‘Hey, you shouldn’t believe everything he tells you. Barney sure does love to brag.’

‘Are you saying that you’ve both lied to me, because if so, Chad Jackson . . .’ and she began to get to her feet, her mouth going all tight and prim.

‘Naw, hon, I’d never do that. Why would I lie?’ Now he was in a worse mess. He surely didn’t want to risk losing her. ‘You can trust me, absolutely. It’s not exactly a string, that’s all I mean. A couple mebbe.’

‘A couple?’

Those glorious golden-green eyes regarded him with cool appraisal and Chad felt sick inside at the thought of losing her. ‘Three maybe, and hey, Barney might have his eye on another even as we speak.’ Why hadn’t he just shut his mouth when he had the chance? Chad offered a shaky smile, wishing he could think of some way to change the subject and get out of this hole he was digging for himself.

Bette saw his misery and misunderstood, her soft heart swelling with fresh love for him as she kissed his cheek. ‘Don’t be jealous. It’s you I fancy, not Barney. You’re so kind and gentle, you’re the type I go for, not his brash sort.’ Who was she kidding? Bette shut from her mind the dreams she’d had since that oh-so-dangerous dance with Barney. He was far too exciting for his own good, that one, and Bette had every intention of being sensible. Barney Willert was the sort who would bring nothing but trouble. Chad, on the other hand, was indeed sweet and kind, and putty in her hands. ‘You’re the man for me, so long as you understand that.’

‘Aw, hon.’ Chad felt choked with emotion. He couldn’t remember a gal ever choosing him over Barney before.

‘I’m beginning to understand how it is with you Americans. Everything in your own country is so big, so wonderful, while we seem small and shabby by comparison. Our houses, our cars. Barney told me all about that too.’

He laughed with relief. ‘And you drive on the wrong side of the road.’ The awkward moment had passed and he relaxed, reaching for her again.

Bette sat up and began to tidy her hair. At least that was ostensibly her ploy, although she was well aware that this particular angle provided him with a tantalisingly perfect profile of her breasts. She heard his soft groan.

‘Don’t do this to me, hon. How’s a guy supposed to resist you?’

‘Take a cold shower?’ Bette giggled, and cast him another mischievous, sideways smile before leaping to her feet and laughing down at him. ‘I’d suggest you take a skinny dip in the river only with the kind of shells and mines that blow up even the fish, best not to, eh? Come on, you can walk me back to work. My lunch hour is over and you shouldn’t even be here.’

‘Aw no, you’re not leaving me already, so soon?’

‘You don’t want the military police after you, do you?’

‘The Snowdrops? Jeez, you say the sweetest things. Just give me one more kiss, then I’ll go back to base like a lamb. Just one, honey?’

And somehow he was pulling her down to him again, kissing her stomach, her breasts, her throat, all the way up until he reached her lips when he captured her completely in a breathtaking kiss that never seemed to end. Chad was certainly a good kisser.

By the time it was over and they’d walked the long way back, Bette arrived at the salon all rumpled and flushed, to much teasing and joking from the customers, and a sour look from her mother. Sara too was sitting there, looking unusually glum, while little Jenny was playing with curling pins and Drew scrabbling about the floor among the cut hair, playing with his dinky cars.

‘Where’ve you been till this time?’ Sadie demanded. ‘Up to no good, I’ll be bound.’

Sara put out a hand to hush her mother but Bette only tossed her head and reached for her overall, tying the strings very tightly around her slender waist. Oh, she’d definitely made up her mind. She loved Chad Jackson all right, and maybe next time, she’d show him just how much. If mam believed her to be a bad girl anyway, she might as well have the pleasures that went with the reputation.

‘Take no notice,’ Sara said to her, the minute Sadie went off for her midday break. ‘She cares about you, that’s all.’

Bette snorted with disbelief and picking up a comb began to tidy her disordered curls back into place before her next customer came in. ‘Pigs might fly. She cares only for herself, as you well know. She can’t be bothered with either of us. Sees us as rivals, not daughters to cherish. Nothing would give her greater pleasure than to see me come a cropper. Well, it isn’t going to happen. Chad loves me.’

Sara instantly looked concerned. ‘Has he told you so?’

‘Not in so many words, no, not yet. But I can tell. He’s absolutely besotted. Talks all the time about showing me his home in America, and a wonderful home it is too by the sound of it. This could be a marvellous opportunity for me, and all Mam wants to do is spoil it.’