Memories of You (28 page)

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Authors: Benita Brown

BOOK: Memories of You
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Lying awake later she tried to understand what it was she meant to him. Did he want friendship, or something more? But whatever it was she was prepared to wait and find out. After all, there was no denying the fact that she was deeply and hopelessly in love with him.
 
On Boxing Day Matthew's parents kept open house for friends and neighbours, and Patricia saw to it that he did his duty, serving drinks and socializing. Some of the guests had known Patricia and Matthew since they were children and the men, particularly, were fascinated by his work and wanted to talk about the dangers he had faced in what they referred to as ‘foreign parts'.
Matthew found this a strain but at least it kept him occupied and gave his sister no chance to take up the previous night's conversation. When he had gone to bed he had thought long and hard about what she had said. By morning he knew that his feelings for Helen were much deeper than he had wanted to acknowledge to himself. People made jokes about war-hardened foreign reporters, saying that they were cold-blooded and heartless. They had to be if they were going to remain sane enough to report without prejudice some of the situations they found themselves in.
But Matthew wasn't heartless. That was the problem. His solution had been to detach himself from the world around him. There were those on the paper who called him a loner. And he'd been happy with that until that crazy incident at Stefano's when Helen had dropped the mess of jelly and fruit all over him. The shock had made him look up and see an appalled young girl. Her expression of comic dismay had gone straight to his heart. His instinct had been to reassure her. To try and make things up to her. After all, it was his fault he had left his wretched walking stick in the way. That was the reason he had asked her out. Or so he had told himself.
She was funny and intelligent and remarkably good company. How could he have known how much she would come to mean to him in such a short time? He had promised Patricia that he would do nothing to hurt Helen. Well, he wouldn't. But neither could he give her up.
He smiled as he poured the drinks and chatted to friends and neighbours. He avoided Patricia's pointed glances. When duty was done he hugged his mother and set off cheerfully. He was going to see Helen, the girl he loved.
 
When Matthew arrived at Stefano's Helen was still working. Marina recognized him and asked him to wait in the bar. Before he knew it someone had put a paper hat on his head and a young woman held a spray of mistletoe over him and kissed him enthusiastically. Marina gave him a complimentary glass of festive punch and told him she would see that Helen was relieved of serving duties immediately.
A little later, when Helen appeared, he was surprised to see that she was wearing her serviceable old coat. Instructed by his mother and dressed in his best himself, he had imagined that Helen would wear the attractive outfit she had worn the day before. She smiled a little wanly, he thought, and they made their way to the door.
Once outside Helen paused and turned to face him. ‘Sorry about this,' she said as she glanced down at the way she was dressed. ‘But I didn't want to take my good clothes to the restaurant. They end up smelling of food.'
‘Wise decision.' He glanced at his watch. ‘Let's go. I want to get to the theatre in time to order refreshments for the interval and to buy the biggest box of chocolates they can provide. It's years since I've been to a pantomime and I intend to enjoy myself.'
Matthew had chosen to bring her to see
Cinderella
because everyone was talking about the amazing scene at the lake. He was of the opinion that the story about the floating bathing cap found during a rehearsal and the chorus girl they had feared drowned was a publicity stunt to draw in the audience. Not that that was needed considering the starry and popular cast.
Helen had mixed feelings about the choice of pantomime.
Cinderella
was the last Christmas show her mother had taken them to at the Theatre Royal in Newcastle. There they had had seats in the gods, the highest balcony of all where the slope was precipitous but the seats were cheap. Sitting there they had seemed a long way from the stage but her mother had laughingly told her that the actors would appear more beautiful and the costumes more gorgeous if you couldn't see them too closely.
Now, here they were in the front row of the grand circle where theatregoers traditionally wore evening dress at the evening performances. Even here at the matinee some of them were very expensively and fashionably dressed. She hoped Matthew wouldn't be ashamed of her. What she had told him was perfectly true. The staff cloakroom was next to the kitchen and any garment left there would carry home the rich aroma of the day's dishes, but there was another reason she could not have taken her new clothes there. She did not want to explain to anyone how she could afford them.
Families in the audience were greeting old friends and making arrangements to meet for refreshments during the intervals. When the house lights dimmed the good-humoured chatter faded, people settled back and looked expectantly towards the stage. Lights went on in the orchestra pit and the musicians began to tune up. The conductor took his place but before raising his baton he looked up at one of the boxes where the occupants were still talking and laughing quite loudly. He rapped his baton on his music stand and said, ‘Young ladies, if you please!'
Not a bit abashed, one of them leaned forward and called out, ‘So sorry,' and she smiled engagingly, winning an indulgent smile in return.
Helen leaned forward and gripped the padded velvet-covered edge of the balcony. Her heart thudded painfully and her breath caught in her throat.
‘What is it?' Matthew whispered as he leaned forward and took her arm. ‘Are you ill?'
Helen shook her head.
‘Are you sure?'
Someone behind them said, ‘Sshh!' and Matthew turned and frowned.
‘I'm all right, really, I am,' she said quietly.
‘Good,' Matthew took hold of her hand. ‘Then let's enjoy the show.'
Matthew was surprised at how tightly Helen returned his grip. He could have no idea of the emotions the sight of that beautiful girl in the box had aroused within her. Or that that girl was Helen's sister.
 
Myra had insisted on a box. They had come to the matinee because there was a meeting tonight at the track and Joe would have to be at work in the kennels. They made a strange party, Myra, Dr Balodis, and the twins. Their landlady was wearing her fur coat and a hat shaped like a dinner plate that tipped forward over one eye. Danny wondered how she could see properly. Dr Balodis wore a belted camel coat and on his head a large fedora that made him look like a secret agent in a movie. That was Danny's opinion.
Danny and Joe were dressed in their new suits: square-shouldered and double-breasted, navy blue with vertical white stripes. Myra said the suits made them look like proper little men. Danny thought they made them look like gangsters, but Joe had set his heart on them and Danny would do anything that would make Joe happy.
Myra had wanted to see the show because she was a fan of Revnell and West, a popular music hall act known as ‘the long and the short of it'. Ethel Revnell, at just over six foot tall, and Gracie West, at just over four foot, played two evil schoolgirls in the variety halls. Myra thought they were the perfect choice to play the ugly sisters.
Their landlady was making much of the fact that they were in a box. She tipped the usherette generously and ordered ice creams for the boys and drinks for her and the doctor to be brought during both intervals. Before the lights dimmed she leaned forward and observed the audience keenly, pointing out people she considered to be of importance in the stalls and the dress circle. None of this meant anything to Dr Balodis who sat blinking in the shadows and wondering why he had allowed himself to be dragooned into accompanying her.
‘Cheeky young madams,' Myra whispered sotto voce when the conductor reprimanded the four girls in the box directly opposite.
A moment later the music began. After a short medley of popular tunes the curtains rose and Joe, Myra and Dr Balodis turned their attention to the stage and the gaily dressed dancers. Danny, however, was still staring at the girl in the box opposite. The girl who, although he hadn't seen her since she was nine years old, was unquestionably his sister Elsie. He had already seen Helen sitting with that man in the front row of the grand circle; he had spotted her when they had first arrived.
And now, here they all were, Helen, Elsie, Joe and Danny, together at the theatre after all these years. And he was the only one who knew.
 
After the show Joe had to get away quickly. The meeting at the track that night was a big one, with some heavy betting expected. Myra and Dr Balodis went off to a club she knew and Danny said he might stay up west for a while and take in the sights.
What he did was to mingle with the crowds on the pavement outside the theatre and wait until his younger sister and her friends emerged from the brightly lit foyer. They were in high spirits. He watched and he listened and he learned their names. He frowned when he realized that Elsie seemed to have become Elise. He saw from the girls' confident attitude that their families must be very rich indeed. They are indulged and spoiled, he thought, their young lives a round of pleasure.
Very soon a motor car pulled up and a young man who turned out to be the brother of the one called Shirley approached them.
‘Tom, there you are!'
‘Good time?' he asked.
‘Brilliant!' his sister said.
‘Well, let me tell you the night isn't over yet. Mama has hired a film projector and some Charlie Chaplin films. Perry and I are going to give you your own private screening after you've eaten the banquet that awaits you.'
‘Your lordly friend, Perry, actually wants to hang around with us kids?' Shirley asked.
‘He's setting up the screen and sorting the reels as we speak.'
‘But no doubt you two will be going out later?'
‘Of course.'
‘Not fair.'
‘Don't worry, little sister. Your time will come. Now, let's go.'
Tom Chapman ushered the girls into the luxurious depths of the Lagonda and then he pulled away through the crowded streets. Danny made a decision. Smiling quietly to himself and feeling like a character in a movie, he hailed a taxi and told the driver to ‘Follow that car!'
By the end of this evening at least he would know where one of Elsie's friends lived.
 
The theatre was half empty by the time Matthew and Helen left their seats in the front row of the grand circle. ‘Let them all go,' he had told her quietly. ‘We don't need to join in the rush.'
Helen nodded but didn't speak. She was staring ahead raptly at nothing in particular as far as Matthew could tell.
‘Did you enjoy the show?' he asked.
‘Very much.'
She sounded as though she meant it but she seemed strangely detached. Perhaps she's still lost in fairyland, Matthew thought fancifully, swimming in the magic lake or dancing with Prince Charming at the ball. You didn't have to be a child to be caught up in the magic of the theatre.
The cleaners were already working in the row behind them, tipping up the seats and removing empty chocolate boxes and sweet wrappers, getting the auditorium ready for the evening's performance.
‘Let's go now, sweetheart,' Matthew whispered and marvelled at how easily the endearment had slipped out.
Helen turned her head towards him and her eyes widened but, although her smile was one of surprise, she still had that oddly detached air. Matthew wondered if she was tired and worried that she might reject his suggestion of going on somewhere for supper. But she agreed, merely asking if what she was wearing would pass muster.
‘Don't worry,' he said. ‘The place I have in mind is not the sort of place where you have to dress up. It's a little club in a basement in Soho where we can get a so-so bottle of wine with an adequate meal, but listen to some very good music.'
Once out on the crowded pavement Matthew put his arm round Helen and held her close to save her from the thoughtless jostling of people out to have a good time.
The club was crowded but a generous tip to the head waiter secured them a table far enough away from the swing door that led to the kitchen and not too near the band. As they waited for their meal they watched the couples on the small dance floor. Matthew was longing to ask Helen to dance so that he could hold her in his arms but her unaccustomed air of reserve had placed a barrier between them.
What could be wrong, he asked himself. Can she have decided that she doesn't want to see me any more just as I have realized how much she means to me? But when he reached for her hand across the table she didn't withdraw it. She allowed him to order their meal, spaghetti bolognese accompanied by a bottle of Chianti in a straw flask. That made her smile but her mood remained passive.
At last, after the meal, and feeling like a schoolboy with his first crush, Matthew asked her to dance and felt his heart pounding when he held her close and discovered how fluidly they moved together to the dreamy beat of the music. Helen was just the right height to rest her head on his shoulder. He found this satisfying and he let it lie there although this meant that he couldn't see the expression on her face.
When they left the club they walked, holding hands like lovers, to where he had left his car in Soho Square. When he drew up outside her flat in Kilburn he took her in his arms and kissed her as he had never kissed her before. He could have sworn that she was as moved as he was and yet she was content to say goodnight and leave him without inviting him to come in. Just as well, he thought. It's early days and I am going to have to get used to coming a-courting.

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