The Color of Secrets (3 page)

“Can I have a proper dance with you? After this, I mean?” Because of the volume of the music, his mouth was very close to her ear, his lips brushing against it. She gazed at him, fascinated by the velvety brown of his skin. His eyes were hypnotic, daring her to say yes.

“I
. . .
I’ll have to sit the next one out.” She looked over her shoulder, searching for Cathy. “It’s so hot in here—I could do with a drink.” She needed to find Dilys. She glanced back at him. His eyelids were lowered, the spell broken. She hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings. She wanted to say that she’d be glad to dance with him later, but she held back, unsure whether she should be encouraging him.

A woman pushed past them—a woman she recognized from the rail gang—arm in arm with another GI. He was white. Childhood images crowded her mind. Not the brush seller this time, but skipping with a rope in the playground, singing words that made nine-year-old girls snigger with ignorant mischief:
She likes coffee, she likes tea, she likes sitting on a black man’s knee
. . .
You had to jump with the beat. The rope would go faster and faster. And if you tripped on those last few words, they would point at you and fall about laughing.

“Can I get you something? There’s beer if you like it; not much else, I don’t guess. Maybe some lemonade?”

She took a breath, gave a single nod of her head. Like she was giving herself permission. “A shandy would be lovely.”

“A shandy?” A puzzled, lopsided smile. It made his face puppy-dog cute.

“Half-and-half.” She smiled. “Beer mixed with lemonade. Can I meet you by the bar in a minute? I have to find my friend—and my sister.”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Will they drink shandy?”

“Oh, you don’t have to
. . .
”

He held up his hand. “It’s not a problem. I’ll come find you.”

As he turned away, she caught sight of Dilys clapping enthusiastically near the stage. Cathy was standing next to her. Eva made her way through the crowd as the band struck up the opening bars of another number. Before she reached them, she saw Dilys turn away, led back onto the dance floor by the same Dutch soldier who had partnered her before. As Eva made eye contact with Cathy, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Can I have this dance?” Twisting her head, she saw blue eyes beneath an RAF cap. The edges of the mouth formed a familiar, lascivious smile. He was the other man who had stopped in front of her at the crucial moment during that last dance. And his arm had brushed against her breast—
accidentally-on-purpose,
she thought—as they joined hands for the promenade. Now it felt as if he was looking right through her clothes to her lace-trimmed underwear. She shifted uncomfortably and glanced back at Cathy, who was coming toward them.

“I’m sorry.” Eva gave the airman a hard stare. “I’m sitting this one out—and I’ve promised the next dance to someone else.”

“Oh, all right.” The airman was totally unfazed by her reply. His gaze switched to Cathy, who was beside her now. “How about your friend?”

Cathy glanced at Eva, whose eyes said yes, go ahead, he’s all yours if you want him.

“Watch his hands,” Eva whispered as he led Cathy away. “Wave if you need rescuing!”

As they disappeared, Eva caught sight of her other dance partner coming across the room with a tray of glasses. It was like watching a giant crossing an undulating ocean. He was head and shoulders taller than the majority of the men in the room. The unhealthy pallor of the underfed civilians made his smooth brown skin all the more striking. He walked very erect, very dignified, as if his mission was of the utmost importance. He was looking for her; hadn’t spotted her yet. She could disappear if she wanted to.
Did
she want to? She tugged at the hem of her jacket. Then, as if some invisible wire was pulling it, her arm rose over her head and waved.

“I never asked your name,” he began as he set the glasses down on the table. “I’m Bill. Bill Willis—pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand once again and this time she shook it properly, smiling self-consciously.

“Eva. Eva Melrose.” She slid her fingers around the stem of her glass so that he wouldn’t see the nails, stubby and broken from digging out tracks.

“You live round here?”

She nodded.

“Guess you come here all the time.”

“I don’t, actually.” Eva shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve been here since
. . .
” she hesitated, wondering how much she should tell him. “Since the war started.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows.

She nodded. Safer to let him think that.
Safer?
She took a large gulp of shandy.

“Well.” He smiled. “The way they dance over here sure don’t make it easy for a guy. Getting round that line to you was harder than a game of Chase the Queen.”

She felt a blush rising up her neck. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just a card game we play back home—takes a lot of concentration.”

“And where is that? Home, I mean.”

There was a sudden eruption of laughter from a group of men gathered near the stage. Bill glanced over his shoulder before replying.

She frowned at the unfamiliar word. “Nwoorlins?”

“You heard of it? It’s in Louisiana.”

“I don’t think so. How do you spell it?”

She laughed when he reeled off the letters. “New Orleans! Stupid me—it sounds so different with an American accent.”

“Sounds real fancy the way you say it,” he chuckled.

“What’s it like? Is it nice?”

He pursed his lips. “That depends.”

“On what?” She wondered where his smile had gone. His eyes had a troubled look now, darting from side to side as he drank his beer.

He shook his head. “Guess it’d take some explaining. They call it the Big Easy. Easy place to make a living.” He blew out a breath. As he set his glass down, the music changed to a faster rhythm. Instantly his fingers took it up, rippling over the lacquered surface of the table. “Could we dance to this?” That eagerness was back in his eyes. It was contagious. Moments later they were bouncing across the floor, his hand squeezing her waist. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he moved, sure of each step, his body fused to hers.

“You’re a very good dancer.” She wasn’t sure if he could hear her above the music.

“You think so?” He gave her a curious look, as if weighing her up. Then he smiled, setting off that surge in her stomach again. She fought down the feeling. I’m only dancing, she told herself. Nothing wrong with that.

Suddenly all the lights went out. There was a loud “ooh” from the crowd. Eva felt Bill’s fingers tighten around her waist, pulling her to him, as the MC’s voice rang out in the darkness: “Don’t panic, ladies and gents! It’s not an air raid—just the Blackout Stroll, specially requested by our hosts, the Royal Netherlands Regiment!”

With a rush of panic Eva thought of Dilys. In the excitement of dancing she had forgotten all about her. Where was she? What was she doing?

“What on earth’s the Blackout Stroll?” Eva heard a familiar-sounding voice somewhere to her right. It sounded like Cathy. She opened her mouth to call out but before any words came she felt Bill’s hand glide up her back. His fingers were stroking the bare skin at the base of her neck.

“Can I kiss you?” The scent of him engulfed her as his mouth found her ear. She felt the slight graze of stubble as his chin moved across hers. As their lips met, a current of heat shot down her body, as if she were melting. She felt the tip of his tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting her. And his hands cupped her face so gently, as if she were something delicate and expensive that might break. The irony of this made it all the more delicious. She pressed her fingers into his back, feeling the muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt, drawing him closer, closer.

But it was over in seconds. The lights snapped on to reveal couples in clinches all over the dance floor. She looked into his eyes, shamefaced, awkward. What had she done? He was smiling, but she looked away. Looked for Cathy. Looked for Dilys. But all she could see was a tangle of bodies and unfamiliar faces.

“Hey, Bud!” An American voice boomed from a few feet away. “Yes, you!”

A white soldier sauntered over to them, hands on his hips. He was shorter than Bill but much heavier. “You better make the most of that while you’re in Britain, boy,” he said in a languid, menacing voice. “’Cause by God, if you was in Texas, you wouldn’t be doing it!”

Bill let go of Eva, squaring up to the man. “Well, we’re not
in
Texas,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “so why don’t you do like the British do?”

The punch sent Bill staggering backward into Eva’s arms. She felt her legs buckle as she caught him. Somehow he managed to spring up from his back foot, saving her from falling underneath him. But as she lurched sideways, the strain on her tight blue dress was too much. The stitching ripped from the waist to the hem.

Chapter 4

Eva was half kneeling, half crouching on the floor. She heard shouts as two Dutch soldiers grabbed the white GI and frog-marched him off the floor. Where had Cathy and Dilys gone? Bill was bent over her, cradling her shoulders. A mottled graze marred the skin beneath his left eye.

“Are you all right, honey?” he said. “Did I hurt you?”

“Never mind about me!” Eva forced a smile. “You’re the one who got hit—are
you
all right?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Bill closed his eyes for a second. Eva was not sure if he was in pain or trying to summon some inner strength.

“Let me help you up.” He started to lift her.

“No!” she whispered. “I
. . .
it’s my
. . .
” she faltered. “Could you lend me your jacket?”

“Sure,” he said, taking it off and placing it around her shoulders.

“Thanks.” She slid the jacket down, knotting the arms around her waist. She caught the puzzled look on Bill’s face as he helped her to her feet. “Could we go outside? I think I could do with some air.”

“Me too,” he replied, taking her arm before shouldering his way through the crowd.

He pushed open the two sets of blacked-out glass doors and led her out into the twilight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.” There was no edge to his voice; nothing to convey what he really felt about what had happened. They stood there in uneasy silence. In the gathering darkness it was difficult to make out the expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Sorry for what?” He sounded gruff now, almost angry.

“For what happened in there. It was disgraceful. That idiot punching you like that . . .”

“Oh, it’s nothing to get riled up about,” he said. “It’s what I’ve come to expect from the likes of him.”

“But he’s a soldier.” Eva frowned. “He’s an American
. . .
”

“Sure he is.” Bill gave a low, sardonic chuckle. “A
white
American. And this is a
white
town.”

“What do you mean?”

She heard him sigh. “Colored guys like me, we don’t usually get to come here. Far as Uncle Sam’s concerned, it’s for white GIs only. We get taken to a little town called Bridgnorth, about ten, fifteen miles from here for Rest and Relaxation, as they call it—the kind of place that’s too small for us to cause any trouble. We only came here tonight ’cause it’s a special occasion.”

“You mean they separate the whites and the
. . .
” she broke off, uncomfortable with the word he had used to describe himself, the same word Iris had used in the station canteen.

“Yes, ma’am. Separate barracks, separate jobs, separate dances—the works!”

Eva suddenly remembered the train. Carriage after carriage of white soldiers, then Iris pointing at the one bringing up the rear:
See that lot at the back? Look at their faces!

“You’re shivering,” Bill’s voice cut across her thoughts. “Do you want my jacket around your shoulders?” His hands went to her waist, untying the knot she had made with the arms. “What was this for? Are your legs cold?”

“No. It was my dress
. . .
when we fell on the floor.” She stopped, too embarrassed to explain. As he draped the jacket over her, he pulled her to him, his lips hungry.

“I
. . .
” She hesitated again.
I what?
The touch of his lips and hands made her heart flip with excitement. What should she tell him? That she was married? Why, when she didn’t even know if it was true any longer?

She let sensation wash over her, her stomach contracting as he pressed against her. Out here, in the dark, what they were doing somehow felt less wrong. But in there, on the dance floor she had betrayed Eddie in the most public way possible. Through that single, reckless act she had crossed a line in her marriage. And in doing so she had caused this man actual, physical harm.

Dilys’s words crept into her head.
Did you think I’d been with a Yank?
She had spat them out, full of contempt, as if going with an American was little better than being a prostitute. What would Dilys make of this, Eva wondered?

She clung to Bill in the growing darkness, her head against his chest. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent. The pulsing heat low down in her belly told her just how much she wanted him. She was stunned, shocked by the chemistry between them. What
was
it about him?

She tried to remember how it had been with Eddie. It had been exciting, yes, at the beginning, but in a different way. She had been excited about getting married. About having a baby. About having someone older to rely on instead of being the one everyone else depended on. But kissing Eddie had never made her feel this way.

“I love this,” Bill said, stroking her hair. “You’re so pretty!”

Eva smiled inside. He made her
feel
pretty—in spite of her ripped dress and her rough hands with their chipped nails.

“I feel like I need to pinch myself,” he said. “I never kissed a girl like you before.”

Eva found this hard to believe. He was so striking. He must have had plenty of girls after him back home. She frowned, trying to remember what the thug on the dance floor had said. Something about making the most of it in Britain.

“What did that lout mean?” she asked. “You know, when he was ranting on about Texas?”

Bill’s head was resting against her neck. She felt the muscles of his jaw tense. “Where I come from, we have these stupid laws,” he said. “Depends what state you live in, but in the South, most places colored folks and white folks don’t mix. It’s not allowed.”

“Don’t mix? You mean like this?” She traced his lips with her finger.

“Uh-huh.” He took her finger in his mouth. “Crazy, I know,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t know it was like that. How can they do that?”

“They think we’re inferior to them. That’s the top and bottom of it,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Same in the army. We don’t get to fight, don’t get to handle weapons; all we’re here for is to cook for them, clean up after them, that kind of thing.”

“Is that what you do? Cook, I mean?”

He went quiet for a moment. “That’s not what I wanted to do. I wanted to fight.”

She thought of Eddie then, wondered what he would say in
response. Eddie
hadn’t
wanted to fight. His father had been mustard-
gassed in 1916 and returned from the war a shadow of the man he’d once been. He’d died when Eddie was ten years old, too weak to withstand the bronchitis that plagued him each winter. No wonder Eddie had dreaded being called up.

“Have you lost anyone, Eva?” Bill’s question sliced through her thoughts like a knife. Had he guessed? Was she that easy to read? She was framing some vague response when the sound of giggling floated across the square from the gloomy recesses of the shop fronts. Eva’s breath caught in her throat. Dilys! Where was she? And what had she been doing all this time?

She pulled away from Bill’s arms. “I’ve got to find my sister! I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her
. . .
” She stumbled down the steps, fumbling in her bag for her torch, calling Dilys’s name.

“Hey, wait a minute!” She could hear his footsteps behind her as she ran toward the shops, past the ghostly market stalls. “Let me help you!” A needle-thin beam of light fell on the metal framework of the stall in front of her. “Whoa!” he said as he caught up to her. “How do you know she’s not back inside, dancing?”

“I looked for her when the lights went on and she wasn’t there,” Eva groaned. “She’s only fifteen and she was with one of those Dutch soldiers!” She bit her lip as the beam of her own torch, dimmed by the brown paper wrapped over its end, caught a flash of bare legs in one of the shop doorways.

They walked the length of the row of shops—the groans, whispers, and giggles punctuated by shouts of abuse as her torch beam settled on one couple after another. Dilys was not there.

“Come on,” Bill said, “let’s go back inside—she’ll be in there, you betcha.”

It was hard to adjust to the brightness of the lights as they pushed open the inner doors. Bill hung back as Eva headed into the crowd.

“Where have you been?” Eva jumped as she heard her friend’s voice. There was a mischievous grin on Cathy’s face as she glanced at the pale-khaki jacket around Eva’s shoulders.

“Oh, don’t ask!” Eva cast a nervous smile. “I’ve been trying to find Dilys. And anyway,” she said, eyebrows arching, “what happened to you? You disappeared during the Blackout Stroll.”

“I went to look for Dilys too: I needed an excuse to ditch that RAF chap. Hands everywhere—like Christopher Columbus discovering America!” Cathy rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I found her in that little alcove behind the cloakroom. She’s over there now.”

Eva followed Cathy’s gaze and spotted Dilys waltzing toward the stage. Her partner was the same Dutch soldier as before.

“Cathy, they weren’t
. . .
”

“Don’t worry! They were just necking. The minute Dilys clapped eyes on me, she turned bright red and shot back onto the dance floor.”

“Thanks, Cathy. I should never have gone outside.”

Cathy’s mouth framed the beginning of a question, but Eva felt a sudden rush of cold air against the back of her legs. Someone had opened the doors behind her. Her hand shot to her behind as she remembered her torn dress. She stepped backward and sideways into the sheltering shadow of the wall, pulling Bill’s jacket off her shoulders and knotting it around her waist again. Cathy followed, a look of amused confusion on her face. Before Eva could explain, she heard someone shout Bill’s name.

“Hey man, you okay?”

She saw another black GI, shorter than Bill and with small, darting eyes, pushing his way through the knots of people at the edge of the dance floor.

“I heard about what happened.” Jimmy peered into Bill’s face, taking in the graze beneath his eye.

“And where were you when I needed you?” Bill dug his friend in the ribs and grunted a laugh.

“Getting to know a young lady,” Jimmy replied coyly. He glanced toward the door. “Don’t worry—she’s gone home. And in case you’re wondering, no one saw us. What were you thinking of, man? If you want to get past first base without getting flattened, you’d better do your smooching in the dark!”

Bill’s expression told him to button his lip.

The music faded out and couples began filing past them, heading for the door. Over the babble of voices the MC bid everyone good night. Where was Eva? Bill craned his neck, looking over the heads for that distinctive long red hair.

“Wait for me a minute, will you?”

Jimmy gave him a sideways look. “You be careful, now!”

Eva was glancing distractedly about the room when she spotted Bill coming toward them. He stopped when he caught sight of Cathy. She bit her lip. What should she do? She didn’t want him to leave. Not without saying good-bye. She smiled at him, angling her head, trying to communicate without drawing attention to them both. She saw him glance at the people on either side of her before stepping forward.

“Good evening, ma’am.” He addressed Cathy first, with the same small bow he had given Eva earlier. “Would you excuse me? There’s something I need to ask your friend.” He leaned in close to Eva. “Can I walk you home?”

Eva felt his breath on her face. It set her skin on fire, the blush spreading all the way down to the neckline of her dress. She glanced at Cathy, whose eyes were like saucers. “Well,” she said, “I’m with my friend
. . .
and my sister. We’re all walking back together and
. . .
” She hesitated, embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of Cathy.

“I don’t mind,” Bill replied. “I’ll walk you all home.”

Before she could respond, she heard another voice call his name. It was the man Eva had seen before. His friend. He was coming toward them. He stopped when he was still a few feet away from where they stood, cupping his hand around his mouth.

“Come on, man! You’re gonna miss the wagon!”

“Could you wait just a second?” Bill said to the women. “I’ll be back, I promise.”