The Chandelier Ballroom (19 page)

‘I’m sorry,’ he said for the second time that night. ‘I thought … Well, it doesn’t matter.’

He wasn’t being propositioned at all. The girl was genuine, wanted to get to know him better. Did she really fancy him? But why him? He almost made to continue his apology for having made such a horrid mistake in his first assumption of her, but that might have frightened her off and he wanted her to stay, desperately wanted her to stay.

‘I suppose you’ve guessed I live in Wadely – just down the road, the second lane on the left from here.’ His eyes now growing accustomed to the darkness, he noticed that she’d eased her shoulders off the pub wall, her left hand across her body to point behind her away from the camp. ‘I live with my family and we’ve a bungalow. It has a big garden and we can see right across almost to the Arterial Road. We grow all our own vegetables and we’ve a few chickens for eggs so we don’t have an egg ration. Instead we’re allowed mash to feed the chickens with and get our eggs off them. At least we know they’re fresh,’ she finished with a laugh. ‘How about you?’

Never had he felt so at ease with someone. The girl was interested, wanted to know all about him. He’d never spoken to anyone for so long, as he told her where he came from, about his home, his parents, their lives, his life before he was called up.

‘I go to church too,’ she said. ‘Maybe not every Sunday but quite often. Lot of people here do. I don’t think they go so much in big towns like Brentwood and Chelmsford and London. Maybe some do, but village people go a lot, don’t they? You’re from a village like me. That’s nice.’

How long they talked he wasn’t sure, but the time went on as they left the pub and strolled along the village street to the end then turned back to retrace their steps, he realising that he’d have to be back in camp soon or be in trouble, maybe refused a pass next time.

When he told her she said, ‘That’s so unfair.’

Reaching the gates across the entrance of the driveway to the big house, Norman took a deep breath, asking hurriedly while he still had the courage, ‘Can I see you again?’ and felt her touch his arm. She’d not even been holding it as they’d walked, more like two friends really.

Now she said, ‘I’d like that. When?’

‘I’ll probably get a pass on Thursday, if that’s all right for you?’ It sounded a silly question but she gently squeezed his arm.

‘I look forward to it, very much,’ she said, and reaching up with her lips brushed his cheek before quickly standing back as if embarrassed.

‘Thursday then,’ he said, moving away towards the gate with its two men on guard duty either side. In the darkness he couldn’t see her now, but he knew she was standing watching as he showed his pass and went on through. Tonight he felt as if he’d stepped into a world he’d never previously known, his heart beating with happiness as he made off towards his hut.

Over the next few days he could think of nothing but Valerie Prentice. He’d never felt like this before. She sat in his head through everything he did, her slim, petite figure, the light tone of her voice, that fair, wavy hair, those china-blue eyes. He found himself wondering what she was doing at any time of the day, imagined her at work – she’d said that she worked in the typing pool of a stationery manufacturers in nearby Brentwood and was learning shorthand at night school, hoping in time to become a secretary.

He had begun to let his imagination run riot, visualising her at home, sitting by the fire listening to the wireless with her parents and her younger brother Sidney, some evenings going off to Brentwood with her friends. What did they do there? Who did she see? Was there another boyfriend in her life and would he find himself put aside in preference to that faceless other, he already forgotten the moment she met whoever he was?

He found himself constantly on edge, longing to find out if there was anyone else, and the next few days seemed to drag, he going through each hour as best he could. Not even training and various duties dulled thoughts of her. Sergeant Price’s scathing remarks no longer seemed so daunting or bit as deeply as they had once done. He now had something to look forward to.

Even sentry duty wasn’t the interminable drag it normally was. When he sat on his bed polishing his brass he could conjure up her face. Eating his meals he’d wonder what she was eating. Lying in his bed at night he’d picture her lying in hers. He’d dress in the morning ready for parade and wonder what she would be wearing. In short, he knew he’d fallen in love.

Then came anxiety, fear, self-censure: anxiety that one stupid little remark would lose her; fear of what life would be like if she were to decide not to see him any more; self-censure that he was already tormenting himself after only one meeting, not him at all, yet he couldn’t stop.

Daily duties helped to some extent to make the days pass quicker, and he found himself looking forward to being constantly occupied no matter how tedious and exacting the task. This Wednesday afternoon, despite spattering rain driven on a cold, stiff breeze, he and his lot had been detailed to cut and clear grass and weeds that had run riot around the two outbuildings since summer and were now dying off in unsightly masses. They worked fast, each man eager to get back inside out of the miserable, cold, rain-bearing wind.

While overseeing the work he noticed one of the outbuildings hadn’t been locked. It vaguely occurred to him to report it, but most likely would mean him having to chase around for the key if it was lost, when all he wanted was to get out of the weather and into the warmth of the NAAFI with a cup of tea. Let someone else deal with it, he thought, a little vindictively.

That evening, the weather having cleared and him unable to rest for longing for tomorrow night to come, he decided a short stroll might settle him down. The noise from the NAAFI pierced the chill air, but he just wanted to be on his own for a while, wrapped up warm, to think about Valerie.

His route took him past the outbuildings, one of them still unlocked. In fact the door now lay slightly open. Surprised that no one else had noticed it, unless of course a careless officer had lost the key around here and decided against reporting it and getting into hot water, curiosity swept away his thoughts of Valerie for a moment. Moving nearer, he peered inside, almost as if he was being gently persuaded to, though it didn’t really occur to him that this was so.

A full wintry moon, risen above the horizon and now very bright, slanted uninterrupted into the interior as he eased the door wider. Wondering at himself for being so curious, he stepped inside leaving the door open so as better to see. Garden tools leaned against the wooden walls. A variety of farming implements occupied most of the floor space along with cardboard boxes, some with the damp having got to them, the cardboard coming away in places to reveal glimpses of porcelain ornaments, from the house no doubt, kept safely stowed away lest they got damaged if left in the house.

Dust sheets covered various pieces of furniture. He lifted one of the sheets by the corner for a peek, to find it to be covering a grand piano. It came to him that the house must have once looked absolutely lovely. There were large mirrors propped up, their gilt frames and the mirrors themselves reflecting the rays of the moon back into the area so that whole portions of it were lit up.

Next to the grand piano was another dust sheet of an unusual shape. Curious, he lifted one edge. Instantly the moonlight reflecting off one of the mirrors pierced the object underneath, which glittered back straight into his face, taking his breath away, a huge, golden-coloured chandelier, its crystal drops shining like diamonds into his eyes.

Startled, he dropped the corner of the dust cover. Then, recovering, he lifted the sheet again. Squinting against the brightness, it went through his mind that Valerie would have cried out in delight to have seen all this, though why he should think of such a thing he had no idea. But then she was in his thoughts all the time.

But he’d stayed in here too long. Someone could easily come along and discover him here and he’d be in for a fizzer. Retracing his steps, he closed the wooden door behind him, but as he made to walk away, his foot touched something metallic. Half hidden between a tuft of grass that had been missed and the edge of the building lay an open padlock almost buried in the soft ground, but no key.

Scanning the area briefly, wondering why he felt a need to waste time on it, moments later his eyes alighted on it laying about a foot away, almost hidden in the trodden mud of a well-cleared patch. It was a wonder no one else had noticed. It had probably been pressed into the earth by the careless foot of the one who’d dropped or mislaid both objects during his hasty search. Maybe the man had had to leave with his search half done, having made up his mind to lie, say that the building was safely locked. Otherwise why had both objects remained unfound until he saw them?

A wild thought stole into Norman’s head as he glanced furtively about in case anyone had seen him and wondered what he was up to. Snapping the padlock into its proper place, he slipped the key into a pocket of his battle dress and hurried off.

In his mind a mad idea had begun to form – he who’d never had a mad idea in his life – one that was now setting his mind on the go, not even pausing to wonder why. It was almost as though someone else was putting the idea into his head and he felt excited.

Valerie would love to see the stuff in that outbuilding. What if he were to suggest he smuggle her over the perimeter fence one night? She’d see him as a bit of a dare-devil, something most girls wanted their men to be, and she would be so proud of him. She might even be proud enough of him to find him irresistible, the two of them together on one of the dust sheets. The first girl he’d ever kissed, he felt he could go further, who knows, maybe all the way. Thinking about it he felt like a lion.

In a mad moment he’d confided his feelings about her to Bob Macatty, swearing him to keep it to himself. And of course Mac would, he was that kind of person. If it did get around, it wouldn’t take Price long to make some snide remark and Norman would know the information could only have emanated from Mac, and Mac knew it too. He could trust his friend and he knew Mac was pleased for him. But the man’s advice had been sober.

‘Don’t get too carried away, Norm. You’ve only known her a few hours. If you let it get to you, she could break your heart, especially the type of bloke you are.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ snapped Norman, feeling his back go up. Who did Mac think he was, deeming to judge him? What gave him the right to imagine what sort of person he was? But Mac hurriedly changed the subject, realising himself in the wrong.

‘That girl I met when I left you last week. She was with some others but I chatted her up and we went off together. I even got a kiss and cuddle in the bushes on the way back here. I’m seeing her again too, on Thursday, but I’m not making too much of it like you seem to be doing. Don’t forget, Norm, ship’s that pass in the night – that sort of thing. We could get posted or she could get fed up. Girls can. We all can. Just take it easy, that’s all …’

Seeing Norman’s lips tighten once more, he added hurriedly, ‘I’m only warning, that’s all. No one wants to see a mate get hurt.’

Despite Mac’s wisdom ringing in his ears, he still felt elated if a little anxious, so that it was an intense relief to see her standing just outside the pub waiting for him. In the moonless blackout, the sky overcast, she was almost invisible before he realised she was there, recognising her only by the cream-coloured coat she’d worn the week before. But her voice came leaping back into his memory.

‘Norman! I was frightened you wouldn’t come.’

She must have been feeling the same emotions that had plagued him all this week. Delight leapt in his breast as he took her hand.

‘Do you fancy a drink?’ he asked, not really looking forward to going into a noisy, smoke-filled bar, seething with humanity.

She looked at the darkened place that to him had now taken on the discomforting appearance of a vast black box vibrating with noise.

‘I don’t think so,’ she said, making him feel that she had the same impression of the place. ‘It’s so nice and quiet out here and the weather’s not too bad, cold but dry. Let’s just go for a stroll.’

He felt on top of the world as they walked slowly, his arm about her waist, she allowing it. She took him past her house and they stood looking at it for some time while she told him a little more of her life. They had gone on to where the lane ended in fields and by the gate had kissed and held each other. No more than that but it spoke of much more to come as time went by.

He’d wanted to conduct her safely back home, saying goodbye to her there, but she insisted on accompanying him to the camp gates.

‘I’m quite safe going back home on my own. This is my village and me and my family know everyone and everyone knows me and my family. And I don’t want to say goodbye to you until the very last minute.’

Filled with secret delight at her words, he let it go at that. When he finally left her at the camp gates, she let him kiss her again – a long lingering kiss, he hearing her whisper that she could hardly wait to see him again.

He knew now that this was the girl for him, visualising their lives stretching on to a distant and wonderful future together. Mac had been so wrong when told him not to let himself be carried away.

Norman could hardly believe they’d been going out for nigh on three months. Just before Christmas, Valerie had asked him home to meet her family, that in itself proving it to have become serious in her eyes as well as his.

It had been a traumatic evening, meeting her parents, even though they’d welcomed him. He’d been on his best behaviour, trying not to say or do anything out of place, seeing their eyes going from him to their daughter and back to him. To his mind, tension had existed all round, and he’d been glad when the evening was over.

He’d never been at ease with strangers and this had proved the most difficult situation he’d ever experienced, knowing how much rested on it. Even Valerie had looked on edge, constantly singing his praises while they regarded him narrowly, openly weighing him up. After all it was their daughter’s wellbeing they had in mind and she still only twenty. They were trusting her future to a man they’d only just met, although she’d most likely spoken enough about him to fill a bible if he knew anything about her.