Nora hugged her secret to herself as she scuttled along in the wake of her sisters. They had suspected, of course, and teased her cruelly about it, but all the same, Audrey had lent her a pair of shoes and a velvet sash; Ruth had spent some time setting her hair; and diplomatic Marguerite had managed to persuade their father to let her join them. Only Lizzie was left behind, pretending she did not care, claiming that she would rather read than dance.
The pavement was crisp with early frost, its crystal glimmer casting the only light in the blackout gloom. Nora was glad they did not have to walk far to the dance hall. A few hundred yards away, she could see the pale light from the doorway, each time someone went inside. The sounds of music and laughter seemed distant.
No alcohol!Ruth was the eldest, and therefore responsible; her warning superfluous, as Nora was not there to drink.
The room was filled with colour and chatter, like a tropical rainforest. Fashions may have been austere, but the heightened gaiety and the fluttering jazz piano made the crowd sparkle, a thin veneer of desperation visible in their need to have fun while they could. Nora saw Ruth nudge Audrey, muttering, the Americans are in. Audrey grinned somewhat wolfishly, and ran a hand through her short, angry auburn hair.
A moment later, Nora found herself abandoned by her sisters. Marguerite and Ruth were already swept into the throng, twirling in the reasonably respectable grasp of some suitable looking young men. Audrey had turned down a dance and was leaning against the bar, engaged in earnest discussion with a pretty, slim girl.
Flooded with uncertainty, Nora hovered close to the door, scanning for a familiar face, and pressing down on the threatening anxiety inside her. Her eye caught the brief, excited wave of an acquaintance, but as she stepped in that direction, a gentle hand rested momentarily on her arm.
You made it.
A delighted childish smile flashed across her face, and then she reddened, experiencing a new kind of self-consciousness; and she fiddled with her sash, as if there might be some requirement to adjust it.
Perhaps I could get you a drink?
She felt foolish accepting a ginger beer, when he was clearly drinking the real thing. As he fetched it from the bar, she tried to gather herself, thinking that she should at least pretend to be sophisticated. She imagined that she might even have grabbed her sisters� attention, now that she was in the company of this tall, sandy-haired officer.
Do you dance? he asked her, with a rather avuncular smile in his clear blue eyes.
I� er� She attempted to impress him with the lucidity of her response.
Or would you prefer to sit this one out?
He procured for them two wooden chairs, and held her drink while she arranged herself.
I didn�t think they would let me come, she confided, taking the opportunity to glance in Audrey�s direction.
There can�t be much else for you to do around here, he remarked, aware of the fascinated gaze in her pale face; the slight clumsiness of movement as though her clothes were unfamiliar to her. In the train, she had chattered about music, her family, the war, and not been afraid of him.
We�re preparing the house for convalescent soldiers, she said. We�re all very busy. My sisters are usually up in London, nursing; except me and Lizzie, the youngest. We�re going down to Cornwall soon, to work on the land, safe from the bombs.
Won�t be any bombs in this backwater. His firm confidence assured her, and as she began to feel less jittery, she watched the dancers, and thought it might be rather nice to join in.
There was a moment of silence between them, awkward only in its novelty, and as a presage of moments that might come. Their fingers brushed together as they both reached for their drinks, and she swallowed a nervous giggle as he gave her a melting look.
Are you �
Shall we �
Their questions did not have the chance to become untangled, because that was the point at which they were joined by the delicate, somewhat breathless Marguerite, all swishing blue silk and elfin smile.
Nora, darling, do introduce me to your friend, she demanded, with a smile full of sisterly concern to one side, and glittering charm to the other.
Will, may I present my sister Marguerite� Nora felt gauche, charmless in comparison to her sister, and knew that she would have been unable to recapture the thrill of yesterday afternoon�s train journey, when she had dared to be drawn into conversation, allowed herself to be found interesting by a strange young man.
Will was shaking Marguerite�s hand, already ensnared by her gentian eyes.
Marguerite�s flawless white hand was smoothing her skirt, and her head was inclined towards him, absorbing him.
There was a lull in the music, stillness on the dancefloor. I believe this is the ladies� excuse-me, Marguerite said. Would you care to dance?
Wow. I’m breathless. That was fantastic.