A Mistletoe Kiss (32 page)

Satisfied with her decision, she entered Lewis's with a feeling of pleasant anticipation. Choosing a present for two women she had never met was quite a challenge, but it meant she was at liberty to ask questions about them. After all, colouring, character and likes and dislikes all had to be taken into account when choosing the perfect gift.

She was limping towards the jewellery counter, lured by its sparkling showcases, when Max took her hand and led her in the direction of the lift. ‘Grandmother first,' he said. ‘I've written down her size in dresses, just in case you see something you think would suit her …'

Much later, sitting on a red plush seat in the cinema, watching the main feature draw to a close, Agatha thought over her day. It had been, she decided, the best day of her life so far, for everything had gone beautifully, just as it ought. Even the weather had not let her down, for though it was extremely cold it neither rained nor snowed and the sun shone, pale but persistent, out of a brilliant blue sky.

Presents had been bought – a lilac wool dress for Max's grandmother, a sparkly brooch and necklace for
the woman he referred to, rather charmingly Agatha thought, as ‘Stepmama', pipe tobacco for his father and some small toys for the children of one of his cousins. These had to be chosen with care, since the children in question lived down south, so their presents would have to be sent by post, but the buying of such things as a cuddly teddy bear and a model railway set allowed Agatha to wander round the toy departments without feeling that everyone was staring at her. Indeed, she hoped that the assistants who served them thought they were buying for children of their own. She noticed that none of them stared at her club foot. Perhaps they never had, but then she had seldom ventured into such departments, having no young relatives for whom to buy gifts.

After making their purchases, they had wandered around the market, enjoying the festive air of Christmas. Agatha had been unable to resist temptation and had bought a few treats for her mother, whilst Max had splashed out on two pounds of walnuts, which he told her his father loved, and two boxes of crystallised fruits for his womenfolk.

They had had lunch at the Adelphi Hotel and Agatha had felt wonderfully sophisticated when the waiter, who had served them the evening before, recognised her and addressed her as ‘madam'. After lunch, Max had looked at her shyly, though still with a lurking twinkle. ‘Will you think I'm entering my second childhood if I say I'd like to go for a ride on the Overhead Railway?' he had asked. ‘A fellow in my carriage on
the train coming up from London said it was pretty imposing in peacetime, but even more so now that we're at war. It's the only way a civilian gets to see the docks and the variety of shipping which has come into the port … but if you'd be bored …'

‘I wouldn't; I'd love it,' Agatha had said at once. ‘When I was a little girl, my father took me from Dingle to Seaforth and back again, just for the ride. I loved it then, and I shall love it now. I don't suppose you know, not being a local man, but folk call it the Dockers' Umbrella …'

Max had laughed. ‘I did know; but you can trust a Liverpudlian to find a nickname for just about everything. I wish we had time to visit New Brighton, but there won't be much to see because of the blackout, so I dare say we'll have to make do with a ride on the Dockers' Umbrella.'

Agatha thought that Max's enjoyment had rivalled her own, and hers had been considerably increased by Max's knowledge of the vast variety of shipping in the docks. He had been able to point out corvettes, sloops, merchantmen, destroyers and many others, explaining to Agatha how the fighting ships would accompany convoys of merchantmen as they undertook the perilous crossing of the Atlantic, harassing the wolfpack, as they called the German U-boats, and attacking enemy shipping if it came heading for their convoy.

They had disembarked from the Overhead Railway at Seaforth Sands and walked into the village, where
Max had hailed a taxi, saying that there was little point in taking the Overhead Railway back to the city since they would be unable to see anything because of the blackout. In Liverpool once more, Max had bought the
Echo
and they had consulted the list of films showing at local cinemas. They had made their choice, which was an early performance since Max meant to catch a train to Durham which would leave Lime Street Station just after eight that evening, and they had taken their seats in the darkened cinema side by side, in comfortable companionship.

When Max had taken her hand in order that he might pull her closer, and whispered that he wished the lady in the row in front would take off her hat, she had felt her cheeks grow hot and thought about pulling her hand discreetly away, then decided against it. She had heard girls talking about trips to the cinema when she had been in college, and knew that handholding was the norm. The girls called a trip to the cinema ‘four penn'orth of dark', and judging from what some girls said, holding a fellow's hand was almost obligatory if he paid for your ticket. Besides, Agatha realised that the feel of his hand in hers was comforting, and if it was the same for him, why should she deny him such comfort? Very soon he would be far away, in a foreign country, and she had to admit to herself that she would very much rather he remembered holding her hand in the darkened cinema with pleasure than that he should look around him for some more willing cinema-going handholder.

Presently the credits began to roll and the lights went up. Max helped her into her coat, asking her where they should go for a snack since he would not reach Durham until very late that night.

‘Honestly, Max, we've been eating all day,' Agatha protested, though only half-heartedly. They had emerged from the warm cinema into a freezing street and the thought of a hot drink was attractive. Furthermore, she was enjoying her very first outing with a man who seemed to relish her company, and did not want it to end. ‘Besides, your train leaves in just over an hour, so we can't go far from the station; you'll want to he first on board so you can get a corner seat so you can snooze,' she added.

‘Very well. I had intended to take you home, but I'll put you into a taxi, if that's all right, with instructions to the driver to take great care of you,' Max said. ‘As you say, we can't go far from the station in search of the aforementioned snack, so we'll go to the buffet; then as soon as my train arrives I'll bag that corner seat you spoke of and get someone to keep an eye on it for me whilst I take you to the taxi rank.' He smiled down at her. ‘Agreed?'

Agatha began to protest that she could perfectly well catch a tram – or even walk – but though he grinned at her, he also shook his head. ‘None of that independent spirit, young lady,' he said. ‘When I say taxi I mean taxi. Remember you've done some shopping yourself and those parcels are quite heavy. Now come along! I know a railway buffet isn't as glamorous as the Adelphi, but right now it fits the bill.'

They found a corner table in the buffet and sat with cups of coffee before them, Agatha at least feeling a little anxious, wondering how they would part. She supposed they would shake hands, promise to write and then go out to the taxi. She had already made up her mind, however, that she would dump her parcels in the cab, ask the driver to keep an eye on them, and rush back to the station. She was suddenly determined that she would wave him off; it was the least she could do in return for such a wonderful day.

At first, conversation was jerky, but then Max began to talk about his fellow officers and Agatha laughed at the exploits he related. She told him that she thought life in the services must be fun and he pulled a wry face, admitting that it was certainly different from anything he had experienced before. However, he could not quite forget Spain and the horrors that he and fellow members of the International Brigade had endured. Agatha, seeing the pain in his eyes, said hastily that the Civil War was best forgotten.

Max seemed about to agree with her, then shook his head. ‘No, my dear; forewarned is forearmed. It's foolish of me to deny you knowledge of what happened in Spain and might happen here. I've seen for myself how very ill prepared we are for what is to come. Germany has been ready for war – eager for it – for several years. In his evil, cold-blooded way, Hitler used the Civil War as a sort of practice ground for a larger conflict. I'm proud of the pilots and planes which we do have, but they're a drop in the ocean
compared with the Luftwaffe, who will attack with tremendous ferocity. Their bombing is deadly accurate, they seldom miss; it's said that putting a big red cross upon the roofs of hospitals and convalescent homes was madness, because the German pilots use the crosses for target practice and score a bull's-eye every time. I wish I knew some magic formula to keep you and your mother – and everyone I love – safe, but I don't. All I can do is advise you to get into the deepest cellar you can find as soon as the siren sounds, or to a public shelter, of course; I take it they're being built?'

‘I believe so,' Agatha said. ‘And then there are those Anderson things; we've ordered one as our house hasn't got a cellar, but it's not arrived yet. The government have issued information leaflets saying that if you've not got a cellar, the cupboard under the stairs is almost as good. The library has a large basement area where the staff could go in case of daylight raids, and there's a public shelter being built nearby. So you see we have a choice of bolt-holes.' She smiled at him a little uncertainly. ‘Have you any more advice to hand out, Flight Lieutenant?'

Max smiled back. ‘Yes, I have. Take a supply of food and a flask of hot tea to whichever bolt-hole is nearest. You'll need to wear your warmest clothing, and I'd advise taking a couple of blankets and pillows with you. I've seen drawings of the proposed public shelters, though I've not visited one yet. They have wooden bunks which are available on a first come first served
basis, which is why I said get to some sort of shelter as soon as the warning sounds. And once there, no nipping out to see what's going on until you hear the all clear; a friend of mine in Spain was killed doing just that.'

‘I'll do as you say,' Agatha said submissively, but she reflected that she, at any rate, was unlikely to be in a shelter during a raid since she had already volunteered both to fire-watch and to help in any way she could. But it would not do to increase Max's worries by telling him this.

‘Oh, God, I wish …' Max said fervently. ‘But it's no good repining, only it seems all wrong that I'm going off to comparative safety, leaving you – and my family of course – to face up to danger without me. I shall write to you, giving you my new address, as soon as I'm able. Please write back, and often, because every time a letter arrives I shall know you're still safe.'

‘I'll write,' Agatha promised. ‘And I'll write often, truly I will. But as for leaving us in danger, you must have forgotten that getting to wherever the air force send you will mean crossing large areas of ocean. You told me earlier today how the wolfpack attacks convoys, so you will be even more at risk than we are. And don't pretend that the Luftwaffe wouldn't dream of attacking a British ship, because I'm afraid I wouldn't believe you. So I shall await your first letter just as eagerly as you will await mine.'

Max grinned and opened his mouth to reply just as the rattle and roar of an arriving train made speech
impossible for a moment, during which time he got to his feet and pulled Agatha to hers. They headed for the platform, still hand in hand. ‘It's my train, I think,' Max shouted above the tremendous din. ‘Agatha, I've been meaning to ask you …'

A guard, blowing his whistle, came along the platform; doors crashed open and slammed shut and men in uniform poured out, shouting and grinning. Max made for the nearest carriage, hefted his suitcase aboard, then jumped up after it. ‘Stay there,' he mouthed. ‘Don't move an inch; I'll just put my case on a corner seat, as we said.' Seconds later he was out again, breathing hard. ‘Bit of luck; a fellow in the carriage says he'll watch my suitcase for five minutes.'

He grinned at her, a flash of white teeth in his tanned face, for the station was dimly lit, as were the carriages themselves, and caught Agatha's hand. They hurried across the concourse, but as they went under the high arch which led to Lime Street he glanced up and then, to Agatha's complete astonishment, stopped short, pulled her into his arms and, before she knew what was happening, started to kiss her. Agatha melted against him, her lips, at first astonished, beginning to soften beneath his. Then he released her, pointing upwards to the dimly seen arch above their heads. ‘Did you see the mistletoe?' he asked, still holding her in his arms. ‘You must know that a fellow can kiss a girl – any girl – underneath the mistletoe at Christmas time! Oh, Agatha, my dear, I'm going to miss you! Promise me you'll do
as I suggested and take good care of yourself. I hate to leave you when we've barely become acquainted, but I dare not risk seeing my luggage go off to Durham without me.'

Agatha was speechless, her lips still burning from his kiss. Her very first kiss, she realised as they ran, still hand in hand, towards a waiting taxi. Max tugged the door open, gave the driver some coins and pushed Agatha inside. He gave her the briefest of brief waves and disappeared into the station concourse once more. Agatha put her parcels on the seat, then leaned forward and shot back the glass panel which separated the driver from his passengers. ‘You will wait for me, won't you?' she said breathlessly, already opening the taxi door. ‘There's something I forgot; I won't be a minute, honestly I won't.'

The taxi driver grinned at her, showing a fine display of long, yellow teeth. ‘Give 'im a kiss from me, queen,' he shouted. ‘I see'd you at it earlier, but I'll wait. He's generous with his dosh, your feller.'