The Color of Secrets (9 page)

Chapter 10

Three weeks later Eva’s mother was preparing a birthday tea for Dilys. Eva was helping, although the last thing she was in the mood for was a celebration.

Jimmy’s execution the day before had knocked the war off the front page of the
Express
& Star
. Eva watched her mother push aside the mound of bread she had sliced to pick up the paper. The headline screamed at her: “HISTORIC HANGING FOR GI RAPIST.”

“Have you read this?” Without looking up, her mother began to read aloud: “‘An American serviceman was hanged yesterday at Shepton Mallet prison in Somerset for raping a sixteen-year-old Wolverhampton girl
. . .
’” She tutted under her breath. “‘It is the first time that a man has been hanged for the crime of rape in Britain.’” She continued, “‘The soldier—a colored man from the Quartermaster Corps based near Bridgnorth—was executed under US Army jurisdiction.’”

Eva sat motionless, staring at the knife she had just dipped in a jar of fish paste.

“They say she’s pregnant.” Her mother glanced up from the paper, clearly expecting a reaction to this bit of gossip. Eva kept her head down. “Imagine what it’s going to be like for that poor child,” her mother went on. “They won’t let her keep it, that’s for certain. But who’s going to want it? She’ll never find anyone to adopt it.” This was followed by a heavy sigh. “I suppose it’ll end up in a home.” The knife rattled against the jar of fish paste as her mother dug it in. “Won’t it?”

“I’ll just go and check the cake,” Eva mumbled, dashing toward the kitchen.

The small front room was filled with people, all glad to get out of the biting October wind. It was a noisy mix of neighbors and friends, some clutching presents and others with rations to donate for the party. Cathy arrived last with a large tin of pineapple chunks, which brought cheers from the other guests.

Dilys made a grand entrance, swanning into the room with Anton on her arm.

“Don’t look so shocked!” she whispered to Eva. “I’m sixteen now—I can do what I like!”

“Never mind me!” Eva hissed back. “How are you going to explain him to Mum?”

An awkward few minutes followed, during which their mother shot speaking glances at Eva.
Better to go along with the pretense that this was a new romance
, Eva thought. Otherwise her mother might start asking what her daughters had really been up to on all those long Sunday walks.

While Anton was working his charm on her mother, Dilys started opening her presents. It was an interesting assortment: “A pair of shoes, three pairs of silk stockings, a brooch, half a dozen grapefruit, and two Hershey bars! I didn’t do too badly, did I?” Dilys laughed. “Did Bill get you these?” she whispered, picking up one of the bars of chocolate, peeling back the paper and taking a big bite.

“Dil! You’re supposed to be saving them! What about all this food?” Eva waved her hand at the table.

“It’s only one bite!” Dilys grinned, stuffing the chocolate back into its wrapper. “Anyway, I’ve got to keep my strength up.” Eva shot her a worried glance, but her sister was too busy examining her presents to notice. “I’m starting my training next week,” she said, without looking up.

“What training?”

“I’ve signed up for the Auxiliary Territorial Service,” Dilys said. “Didn’t I tell you? I’ve been planning it for ages.”

Eva stared at her sister. “Does Mum know?”

“I haven’t told her yet—thought I’d wait till after the party.”

“Oh, Dil
. . .
” Eva bit her lip.

“Listen,” Dilys said, “I’m sorry if it’s a bit of a shock, but I can’t go on like this.” She fingered the rhinestone pin in the shape of a
D
that Anton had given her for her birthday. “
You
might not mind skulking about, hiding from people, but
I
do. The ATS camp is just down the road from Anton’s barracks. We can be together—
really
together.” Her expression was one Eva remembered her using as a child when she was trying to wheedle something out of their father. “You do understand, don’t you?”

“Well, yes
. . .
but you’re so—”

“You mustn’t breathe a word of this to Mum,” Dilys cut in, glancing over her shoulder, “but Anton’s asked me to marry him! He wants me to go back to Holland with him when the war’s over!”

“What?” Eva’s jaw dropped. A jumble of words rushed through her head, but she felt numb, paralyzed. A thin cry from the room above broke the spell. “That’s David,” she said, “the noise must have woken him up.” She made for the door, glad of an excuse to get away. For the first time in her life she had looked at her sister and felt jealous.

Eva scooped David up in her arms, rocking him in an effort to comfort him. “Nanna gone?” he lisped, pointing to the door. “Dilly gone?”

“They’re downstairs, sweetheart,” she said. “We’ll go and see them in a minute. Let’s just change you first.” She laid him on the bed and rolled down his rompers. He kicked his legs as she did it.

“Want Dilly! Want Nanna!” he cried.

Eva shushed him, wondering what Bill would think if he could see her now. She tried to imagine David calling his name, following him around the way he trailed after Dilys and her mother. Calling Bill “Dad.” It frightened her, knowing how desperately she wanted it, because right here, right now, it seemed utterly impossible.

As she undressed her son, she found herself thinking about the baby Philippa was carrying, a baby who would never see his or her father. The injustice of Jimmy’s execution had shocked her to the core.
The Americans are supposed to be our friends,
she thought.
They’re supposed to be just like us.

She remembered what Bill had told her about Louisiana, about the demeaning laws that kept black people away from whites. What would it be like for the child she was carrying to grow up in a place like that—a country whose laws allowed a black man to be hanged for doing nothing worse than what she and Bill had been doing? Could they ever be a family in a country like that?

There was a knock at the bedroom door. “Can I come in?” Cathy’s head appeared. She sat down on the bed, making faces at David until he stopped kicking and started to giggle.

“How’s Bill?” Cathy’s smile vanished as she looked up. “I saw the paper.”

“I don’t really know,” Eva said. “I haven’t seen him since last Saturday.”

“He must be going through hell.”

Eva nodded. “You’d never guess it, though.” She stopped trying to pull one of David’s socks over his wriggling toes and gave a deep sigh. “He’s so hard to read. When Jimmy was arrested, he was in a terrible state. But the past couple of weeks he’s been really calm.” She stared at the sock in her hand. “Unnaturally calm, really. It was his birthday last week—his twenty-first—and he didn’t even tell me. But then he sent a note to the station asking for a date with me, even though he knew Jimmy was going to be
. . .
” She stroked the soft, plump skin above David’s toes.

“Sounds like it hasn’t really sunk in yet.”

“He’s asked me to book a table at the best restaurant in town. Says he wants to give Jimmy a good send-off.”

“Grief comes out in strange ways, sometimes.” Cathy brought her face close to David’s and he grabbed at her hair. “I remember when we got the news about Stuart, it took a long time for me to accept that he was never coming home. People used to say how well I was coping, but about two months after the funeral it suddenly hit me. I just broke down in tears one morning while I was peeling the potatoes. I was counting them out, and I thought
this is it
: we’re never going to need any more potatoes than this for Sunday dinner ever again, because he’s not coming back.” She pulled a silver bangle from her wrist and gave it to David to play with. “Bill’s really going to need you,” she said, “more than he probably realizes at the moment.”

Eva raised herself on her elbows. “I want to be there for him. Of course I do. But . . .” she trailed off, searching for a way of saying what she dreaded putting into words.

“Don’t tell me you’re breaking it off with him? After everything you—”

“Oh, God, no!” Eva cut her short. “It’s not that!” She turned her anguished face away from Cathy. She couldn’t, mustn’t tell her. Mustn’t tell anyone.

“It’s Dilys,” she lied, her eyes fixed on the bedspread.

“What’s wrong with her?” Cathy asked. “She looked absolutely on top of the world five minutes ago.”

“Yes, she is,” Eva said. “Anton’s proposed to her, apparently. She’s joining the ATS so she can move out and spend more time with him. So that’s why I’m not going to be much use to Bill,” she went on. “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to see him when Dilys isn’t around to give me an alibi.”

Cathy laughed. “Cunning little minx! I hope she knows what she’s letting herself in for!” She put her hand on Eva’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said, “don’t worry about seeing Bill—you can use me as an excuse if you want to. And if your Mum gets fed up with babysitting, you can always bring this little chap round to me for the night.” She tickled David, making him giggle again.

Eva felt shamed by Cathy’s generosity. “No, I couldn’t possibly ask you to look after him—I feel bad enough leaving him at home.”

“Why not? I’d enjoy it.” She leaned across the bed and gave Eva a shove. “I know I’m a boring old has-been, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want anyone else to have any fun!”

“Is that how you see yourself, Cathy? Seriously, I mean: you don’t feel you want to . . . you know
. . .
meet someone else?”

Cathy sighed and ruffled David’s hair. “I don’t know. I’m just scared, I guess. Remember that sleazy so-and-so at the dance? The one with the wandering hands?”

Eva nodded. “But you can’t let one bad experience put you off men for life.”

“I know. And I look at you sometimes and think, yes, go for it! Be happy while you’ve got the chance. But then I look at Stuart’s photo and
. . .
well, I just can’t. I can’t imagine being that way with anybody else.”

“I wish it had been that way with Eddie and me,” Eva said quietly.

“You gave him everything you could,” Cathy said. “You made him happy.”

“Did I? He wasn’t happy about David.”

“He would have got over that. He just didn’t have the chance.” Cathy reached out and stroked the pale pink patch on the little boy’s cheek. “David’s his legacy to the world. That’s the gift you gave him: don’t sell yourself so short.”

Eva closed her eyes tight. She had never cried for Eddie. To do so now would be the worst kind of hypocrisy, because the tears she was fighting back were for herself.

It was cold and dark when Eva and Dilys left the house that night. Anton was waiting in the car at the end of the street, ready to whisk them into town. Eva asked to be dropped off at the usual place. Telling Dilys about Bill’s strange request would have prompted too many awkward questions.

When she found her way to the restaurant, Bill was already waiting outside. He greeted her with a smile and a hug. There was no hint of what yesterday had meant to him: of the anguish of sitting in front of a clock watching the minutes of his friend’s life ticking away.

The restaurant was crowded, mostly with white Americans and their girlfriends. Few local people could afford the prices the Victoria charged. There was a lot of pointing and whispering, but to Eva’s relief no one actually came up to the table to challenge them.

“This sounds pretty good, for Britain!” Bill laughed as he scanned the menu. “Now, what will you have?” Before she could answer, he pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and passed it to her across the table. “Thought we could go see these guys after this,” he said. “Go on—read it!”

He’s talking too much,
she thought, frowning as she unfolded the flyer.
He’s acting as though he didn’t have a care in the world
. “‘Civic Hall, Wolverhampton,’” she read aloud. “‘Anglo-American Ball. By public demand—return of that Dynamic Colored Personality, Stanley Carter and His All-Colored Harlem Hot Club Dance Band, featuring Vic Brown—the colored Bing Crosby
. . .
’”