Short and Sweet
Authors: Anna Jacobs
Tags: #General, #Short Stories (Single Author), #Azizex666, #Fiction
Recent Titles by Anna Jacobs from Severn House
CHANGE OF SEASON
CHESTNUT LANE
THE CORRIGAN LEGACY
FAMILY CONNECTIONS
A FORBIDDEN EMBRACE
AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN
IN FOCUS
KIRSTY’S VINEYARD
LICENCE TO DREAM
MARRYING MISS MARTHA
MISTRESS OF MARYMOOR
MOVING ON
REPLENISH THE EARTH
SAVING WILLOWBROOK
SEASONS OF LOVE
THE WISHING WELL
Short Stories
SHORT AND SWEET
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A Collection of Short Romantic Stories
First world edition published 2011
in Great Britain and in the USA by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
Copyright © 2011 by Anna Jacobs.
All rights reserved.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Jacobs, Anna.
Short and sweet.
I. Title
823.9’14-dc22
eISBN-13: 978-1-78010-171-2 (ePub)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8106-9 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-401-1 (trade paper)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being
described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this
publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons
is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.
Contents
Kissing Emily Baker
Anna’s Notes
This is an updated version of one of the first short stories I ever wrote. I was so thrilled when it was accepted for publication by a major Australian women’s magazine. I liked the main character so much, I wrote two other short stories about Emily later.
It was inspired by going to a dance in a tiny country town the year after we came to Australia. I’d never been to a dance where everyone took along a plate of something to eat and their own drinks as well.
When I was a teenager, we used to go to the local dance hall, a paid professional place. There were two of them in my town in those days.
But whatever the venue was like, it didn’t stop people having a good time, and it certainly didn’t stop the younger ones from meeting people. As my heroine does . . .
Part One
The imaginary town of Beeniup, Western Australia (population 1,533). Quite a few years ago, when Emily was seventeen.
O
ne hot summer night Emily Baker strolled through town with her best friend Vera, on their way to the church hall. ‘I don’t feel at all like dancing,’ she muttered.
‘Well, you didn’t want to stay home with your father and his new lady friend, either, so you might just as well make the most of it.’
‘It’ll be the same old crowd. And Bill Nutting will want to dance with you all night.’
Vera smiled. ‘I like dancing with Bill.’
Emily sighed. It was clear to everyone that Vera was getting serious about Bill and that he too was rather smitten. Only two years ago, he’d been spotty and thin. Now, suddenly, he was a man, not all that good looking, but kind and with a lovely nature.
She didn’t fancy any of the lads in town, which didn’t matter because she didn’t fancy marriage, either, not after seeing what her mother had gone through. She was going to make a career for herself, be a top secretary, and later she’d go to England to work for a while. She’d got family there: her mother’s brother and his two daughters. They’d come out for a visit once, but it hadn’t been a success. Her uncle and dad hadn’t got on at all. But she’d got on well with her cousin Diana, who was the same age as her, and they still wrote to one another every month, sharing their lives and thoughts.
At the brightly lit hall she and Vera left their plates of food on the supper table, nodded to the married couples sitting at the tables near the entrance and walked past the clusters of younger folk, girls on one side of the room, boys on the other. They always sat in the far corner, near the scratchy three-piece band.
As soon as they took their seats, Vera nudged her friend. ‘Hey! There’s a new fellow here tonight. I wonder who he is?’
Emily didn’t bother to turn round. ‘Who cares?’
Vera giggled. ‘Go on, have a look. He isn’t very good looking, is he? He looks older than the other lads. Wonder why he isn’t married?’
Emily turned for a brief glance. The young men were standing in groups, heads together, chatting. Their hair was neatly parted and shiny with brilliantine, their skin showed the ruddy aftermath of a thorough application of soap and water, and their shirts gleamed white against suntanned necks.
The curly ginger hair of the stranger stood out a mile and his skin was covered in freckles. Definitely not worth a second glance.
‘How’s it going with your father?’ Vera asked once they were seated.
Emily scowled. ‘It’s awful. He’s all over that Megs and she spends more time at our house than she does at her own. I don’t know where to look sometimes, the way they go on.’
Vera pursed her lips. ‘She’s not bad looking, for a woman her age, you’ve got to give her that.’
The music started but Emily ignored it, still thinking about the latest quarrel with her father. There would be two or three married couples dancing, the ones who really fancied themselves. The younger men would take their time about choosing partners, studying them as if they didn’t already know the girls they’d been through school with!
A shadow fell across her and a man’s voice said, ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance?’
Emily looked up to see the new fellow standing beside her and stifled a sigh as she stood up. When she heard his relieved whoosh of breath, she smiled at him briefly and saw his colour start to subside. He had even more freckles when you got close.
‘Me name’s Tom. Tom Norris. What’s yours?’
‘Mmm? What? Oh, Emily. Emily Baker.’
She walked on to the floor and allowed herself to be pulled against a strong young body that smelled of peppermint and soap.
They stood poised for a moment on the edge of the floor, then set off in time to the music. Slim Dusty’s ‘Pub With No Beer’ again. She was sick of that song. Waltzes should be romantic, not comic. She looked up into gentle green eyes. He still looked a bit nervous, so she said, ‘You’re new to town, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. I’ve come to work for Sanford’s. I’m a brickie.’
‘Oh, yes?’
Tom began to tell her about the job he was working on but she couldn’t keep her mind focused on what he was saying. Well, if truth be told, she hadn’t the slightest interest in him or his bricklaying. She was too worried about whether her father would go as far as marrying the barmaid.
Tom had to stop speaking while he counted aloud the steps in a turn, ‘Two
and
three,’ then set off on the straight again, mostly keeping time to the music.
He definitely wasn’t a good dancer. But then, not many boys in Beeniup were good at these old-fashioned dances the Social Committee insisted on.
‘So what do you do to earn a crust, Emily?’
‘I work at the Co-op in the fabrics and haberdashery section.’
‘Nice job?’
‘No.’
Two more fruitless attempts at conversation, four carefully counted corners, then Tom stopped dead in the middle of the floor and scowled at her.
Emily gasped and looked around. Everyone was staring at them! ‘Keep moving!’ she hissed.
His lips set in a firm line and he kept his feet where they were.
She tugged at his arm. ‘What’ve you stopped for?’
‘It’s not much fun dancing with a girl who can’t be bothered to talk to you.’
She could feel her face growing hot with guilt. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I – I’ve got a few problems at home. It’s nothing to do with you, honest.’
She sighed with relief as he took her in his arms and started moving again. From then on she made appropriate responses as he led the discussion carefully through the weather and the latest pop songs, to the lack of rain in the district.
She wished she was anywhere else but here. She’d only come out to get away from the sight of her father and the barmaid cuddling and giggling on the sofa. At their age! Her head was aching and her new shoes were killing her. She should never have bought them, but they’d have to do for best for the next year now, because she couldn’t afford another pair.
It seemed ages until the music stopped. ‘Thanks for the dance.’ Emily made a beeline for Vera without a backward glance at her partner.
Tom watched her cross the floor, wishing he could have kept her by his side. Then he realized in horror that he was standing alone in the middle of the floor, and hurried over to join the group of young men he’d come with.
‘What did you stop dancing for?’ Bill asked.
Tom shrugged. ‘We got talking. I forgot to move me feet.’
Stan, who had been listening unashamedly to their conversation, sniggered. ‘Talking’s all you’ll do with that one, believe me.’
‘She’s real pretty.’ Tom stared across at Emily wistfully. ‘I’ve always liked dark wavy hair. And her eyes are lovely too. Blue’s my favourite colour for eyes.’
Stan snorted. ‘Well, let me give you some advice, mate: don’t waste your time on her.’
‘She seemed friendly enough.’ Tom’s pride was stung. He had never been a ladies’ man, but he wasn’t starting off in a new town with a public failure on his record. Besides – he stole another glance across the dance floor – Emily was far and away the prettiest girl here tonight. There was something really special about her.
Stan, who considered himself a bit of a goer with women, spent several minutes explaining the futility of trying to get anywhere at all with Emily Baker. ‘And if you think you can do any better, think again.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. She won’t even give a bloke a kiss under the mistletoe, that one.’
‘Who says she won’t?’ demanded Tom, full of Dutch courage from the two beers he’d poured down before the dance.
Stan set his hands on his hips, jaw jutting out dangerously. ‘I say she won’t!’
Tom squared his shoulders. ‘Care to put your money where your mouth is? Or is this just sour grapes because she doesn’t fancy you?’
