All Fall Down (24 page)

What with the honky-tonk music and the larking about, Meggie's spirits revived. So far this evening there'd been no siren and customers had begun to drift in, slow but sure, drawn by the cheerful sounds. Soon there was a muggy muddle of laughing voices, song, couples dancing, cigarette smoke rising. Ronnie made her come out from behind the bar to join him in a dance number; one called the ‘Blackout Stroll', new even to Eddie.

‘Waltz-time,' Ronnie told Jacko.

The piano struck up, one-two-three, one-two-three. He held Meggie in his arms and their jittery walk from Victoria, her confusion about the fighting, her edginess over Gertie's apparent coldness towards her, melted from her mind. The moment took over, she felt utterly happy with Ronnie's arm around her waist, his dark brown eyes gazing into hers.

‘You know what I said in my letters?' His voice blurred as they danced cheek to cheek.

‘What?'

‘That I love you.'

She nodded imperceptibly.

‘Well, it's true. I want you to wait for me, whatever happens.'

She held him tighter. ‘I will.'

‘And I'll come back to you when the war's over. I swear.'

Again she nodded. ‘No need to worry,' she promised, ‘I'll be here.'

‘Sure?'

‘Cross my heart and hope to die.'

They turned in time with the music, oblivious of their surroundings.

‘It's all right for some.' Gertie waited until the end of the number, then called from behind the bar. ‘We got a room full of thirsty customers here. Do I have to serve them all?'

Meggie blushed to be caught as the centre of attention. Reluctantly Ronnie let her go and for an hour or so she had to be content to gaze at him from a distance, watching him circulate amongst his pals, but refusing several offers to dance from girls who wanted to tempt him back onto the dance floor. She was glad about this;
she
belonged in his arms now, and no one else. At last, last orders were called and Gertie draped the towels over the pumps.

Customers drank up, buttoned their coats and stood on the step to check for any sounds of engines overhead, any signs of dog-fights in the sky.

‘Run and fetch Meggie's coat,' Gertie said to Ronnie. ‘It's upstairs, hanging on the hook in my room.'

Meggie thought she must have misheard.

He went up two at a time to fetch it, while Gertie turned her back and began counting up the takings. Meggie felt it like a slap in the face. This must be a misunderstanding.

‘Gertie, I fixed things with my ma,' she said quietly. ‘She don't expect me back. I can stay the night.'

‘Dirty devils.' Gertie tutted at the confetti of cigarette butts on the floor. ‘Ain't they never heard of ashtrays?'

‘Did you hear? Ma says I can stay over.' Upstairs, Ronnie's footsteps creaked along the floorboards.

‘You ain't mentioned it to Ronnie?' She turned at last, her face a mask of make-up, her voice cold.

Meggie shook her head. She felt her eyes begin to smart, her throat to go dry.

‘Just as well, 'cos I changed my mind.'

‘Why? What did I do?' She could think of no explanation. Gertie's change of heart had been obvious the moment Meggie walked in
with Ronnie earlier that evening; a look like the tinning off of a light switch, then blankness, coldness.

‘Nothing. Can't I change my mind, then?'

‘You'd like me to go home?'

‘I'm telling you to, girl. Liking don't come into it.' Meggie's distress fired her own determination. She came up close to impress her with the importance of what she was about to say. ‘Look, Ronnie's got in far too deep with you, if you must know.'

‘Have you asked him?' She rounded on Gertie.

‘No, because I know you can twist him round your little finger. You get him so as he don't know what he's saying.'

‘Oh, I do, do I?'

‘Anyone can see it, so don't go off the deep end.' She studied Meggie's desperate face. ‘It ain't the end of the world. I'm only telling you to get yourself off home like a good girl. Leave Ronnie and me to have a natter, then he can telephone you if he wants to see you again.'

This was a dead end. Meggie wouldn't get any explanation from Gertie, but she could guess that jealousy was the cause. In any case, she could hardly be the one to suggest to Ronnie that she stay the night. That would definitely give him the wrong impression. ‘You did ask me,' she whispered in a last-ditch attempt.

‘That was before.'

‘Before what?'

‘Before I had chance to think it through. It don't look good.'

‘Who to?'

‘What do you mean, who to? It don't look good, full stop. That's enough.'

As a rule Gertie would revel in a whiff of scandal and play people along. So this didn't wash with Meggie. But by now, Ronnie was on his way downstairs with her coat and hat. He whisded as he came.

‘I'll walk Meggie home,' he told Gertie, slipping the coat around her shoulders.

‘Not all the way, surely?'

He turned sharply, but said nothing.

‘What if you get caught in a raid?'

‘Then I'll find a shelter.'

A frown flickered across her face. ‘Righto, then.'

At the door he turned. ‘You ain't worried about a raid, are you?' Something was evidently bothering her.

‘No more than usual.'

He nodded. ‘Let me get Meggie safely home, then I'll be back to look after my dear old ma!'

‘Not so much of the old.' She blew him a kiss, but ignored Meggie as they stepped into the Court and headed for St Martin's Lane.

‘What got into her?' Ronnie relaxed once they were out of sight. He slipped an arm around Meggie's waist. ‘It must be the Blitz. Funny, I never thought she was the sort to let it get her down.'

‘It gets us all down, Ronnie, if you did but know it.'

‘You and her ain't had a barney?'

‘Not that I know of.'

He looked closely at her. ‘Never mind about her, Meg. She blows hot and cold. You ain't crying, are you?'

She tried not to. ‘I thought she liked me!'

‘She does.' He stopped and drew her into a doorway. All the neon signs were dead in the blackout, all the street lamps and shop windows. ‘Don't cry.'

‘I dropped in ever so often while you were away, and she's always been a brick to me until now. Why don't she like me no more?'

‘What's she said?' He stroked her hair, waiting for her to stop.

‘It ain't what she's said . . .'

‘Take no notice. And listen, we ain't gonna let it spoil our night, are we?' He pulled her round. ‘That's it. It's us that counts, you and me. I'm here, ain't I?'

‘And shall we still go ice-skating tomorrow?'

He laughed. ‘Is that what you want?'

She shook her head.

‘What then?'

For answer she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard. He held her tight, then cradled her head between
his hands. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her lips. These were kisses that she'd never given or received before. ‘You do love me?'

He breathed deeply then went on kissing her, his lips closing over her mouth, his hands on her neck, slipping down between her coat and her soft cream dress. Her head went back against the cold stone of the door arch, she gasped and let her hands fall to her sides.

‘Meggie—' He stopped and buried his face against her, his voice deep and soft. His fingers touched her breasts outside the dress, slid over them, and she let him, astonished, scared, completely given over to the sensations he aroused. ‘I dream about you. I want you.'

He carried her along on a wave of intimacy. She let him undo the buttons at the neck of her dress, felt the cold air against her shoulder, though he shielded her from the street by pressing her deep into the shadowy doorway. He pulled the straps down from her shoulder, pushed the underthings from her breast. Soon he put his mouth against it and again she gave way. She was helpless to stop him.

Only, in one tiny part of her consciousness, she knew they stood in a doorway, that this was not how she wanted it to happen, that she would feel cheap, and she had been told that she, the woman, had the power to say no. She wanted him to go on, clung to his strong shoulders, then lifted his face to kiss him again. But she began to whisper, ‘No, not here, not now,' until he heard and hid his face in her hair and let her cover herself He wrapped her coat around her, saying sorry, he had lost control and now she would think badly of him.

It was her turn to stroke his head, to comfort him. ‘We both did. I love you. How can I think badly of you?'

‘I want us to be together,' he pleaded. ‘Now more than ever. But I want it all to be above board.'

‘Then we'd best wait.' Everything was clear; they loved each other and they would go one step at a time. ‘You call on me tomorrow,' she suggested, stopping to kiss him in between organizing the practical things. ‘Meet my ma and step-pa and little brothers.'

‘Will they want to?' He was still subdued, not convinced that he hadn't overstepped the mark.

‘They'll be head over heels the minute they clap eyes on you, just like me! Geoff and Bertie will drop the RAF. They'll be first in the queue for the Royal Navy when they see you in uniform!'

They planned as they walked, trying to cram everything into his two days on shore. He would come to the house in Paradise Court to impress the boys. Then he would take her to a proper dance hall. The day after she would try for a morning off work so as to see him off back to Plymouth. Then it would be who knew how long before they could meet again.

‘Don't think about that,' he whispered. They stood in the deserted street outside the Duke. On their walk across the river they'd scarcely noticed the scars of war, scarcely listened for the sirens or bothered to watch out for the nearest shelter. They had eyes and ears only for each other as they parted at last; Meggie to surprise her mother by knocking on the door at one in the morning, Ronnie to wander back across the Thames, watching its cold, black waters flow silent and swift.

The next night, while Meggie and Ronnie danced to the Big Band sound, others gathered at the Duke to discuss the merits of her new young man.

‘Very nicely turned out.' Annie set her seal of approval. Ronnie had switched on the charm for her, she could see that. Still, she seemed set on seeing him in the best possible light.

‘He ain't a bleeding horse,' Dolly said sourly. Charlie was making a good recovery from his injuries and she and Dorothy had patched up their differences to arrange a rota of hospital visits, but she still found the journey wearisome without a regular bus or tram service. Amy couldn't always ask Rob to give her a lift, and today had been one of the days when Dolly had struggled there and back on foot. ‘You say he's nicely turned out as if he's a carthorse for the brewery.' Aside from anything else, she was annoyed at having missed this glorious specimen.

‘You know what I mean, Dolly.' Annie gave no quarter, just
because Dolly had a son seriously wounded in hospital. ‘Ronnie Elliot is well set-up; nice manners, the lot. Ain't he, Ett?'

Hettie nodded from behind the bar.

‘If I had to pick a first beau for Meggie myself, he's the very one I'd have gone for!'

‘Blimey!' Dolly evidently thought this too good to be true.

‘Not too pushy, not too shy. And he thinks the world of her.' Annie smiled. ‘Anyone can see that. Mind you, don't bother asking Sadie, about him. She's clammed up on the subject.'

‘Didn't she take to him, then?'

‘I never said she didn't take to him.' Annie was a scrupulous observer of the facts. ‘I said she's clammed up. As soon a she set eyes on him, I could tell she was taking a back seat. She just shakes his hand and sits there very quiet, while the boys jump all over him and fire questions at him. He seemed not to notice Sadie. But I did, and Meggie did.'

‘Maybe he ain't good enough?' Dolly brought up her oft-expressed notion that Sadie could be a snob. ‘I once mentioned Jimmie O'Hagan's name in the same breath as Meggie's, and I swear, if looks could have killed . . .'

‘Another half, Dolly?' Hettie came and cut her off. She gathered glasses from Dolly, Rob and Walter, who stood nearby. ‘You two took to him straight off, didn't you?'

Rob, not much interested, said yes for a quiet life. ‘How's your Charlie?' He asked Dolly.

‘On the mend. He's moaning about the book I took him to read, so he must be.'

‘And a little bird tells me that you and Dorothy have called a truce?' Adroitly Annie stepped in again. ‘A New Year's resolution?'

While Dolly took a long drink, Rob leaned sideways to speak to Jimmie. ‘Like the ceasefire in the bleeding trenches,' he whispered.

‘That might be putting it a bit strong,' Dolly sniffed. ‘But I'm willing to admit that even Dorothy will fight on the beaches when it comes to it. You might not think it to look at her.'

‘I hear you've got her to thank for Charlie living to fight another day.' Annie insisted. ‘She ruined a perfectly good jacket and all.'

‘Talk of the devil,' Jimmie said to Rob, loud enough for everyone to hear. All heads turned as the door swung open.

‘Look what the cat dragged in!' Dorothy announced gaily. She stood holding the door open, waiting. ‘I just met him on the street.'

‘That makes her the cat, then.' Nothing would lessen Jimmie's loathing. Dorothy waltzed in, dressed up in her purple and black costume, fresh from visiting Charlie in his sick bed.

‘Come on, Bill, come in and have a drink with the old crowd. Edie ain't gonna run away while you get a couple of drinks down your neck!' She pulled him by the arm. ‘Annie, how about a nice big whisky for Bill Morell? That's your favourite tipple, ain't it?'