The Chandelier Ballroom (20 page)

She’d sat beside him the whole time, her hand in his, singing his praises, talking for him when he became lost for words or abrupt, as people like Mac had often told him he could be. But for her he would have appeared as he’d heard people say of him, at least since he’d been called up, soldiers not so fussy about airing their views – that he wasn’t easy to get along with and in fact could be downright bloody off-hand. Val had obviously never found him so and he was sure he wasn’t as bad as some made him out to be. But her parents, like her, were nice people, nice to him even though he felt the tension could have been cut with a butter knife at odd moments as conversation became worryingly stilted every so often.

Her younger brother Sidney was more honest, hardly bothering to talk to him, Norman catching him eyeing him up and down when he thought he wasn’t looking. The thought kept repeating itself – if only families didn’t have to get in the way, life would be so much less complicated. He was glad when the evening was over and he and Valerie left to take a walk on their own.

‘I hope you liked them, my parents,’ she’d said, cuddling close to him as they strolled in the somewhat blustery night air. ‘I’m sure they liked you.’ He’d had no wish to contradict her and had merely said that he liked them as well.

Since then he’d gone regularly to the house, had begun to feel more at ease, if only a little more for he still sensed if not disapproval then a wish for her to have maybe found herself someone other than him, though nothing of this was ever intimated.

He was beginning to feel that before long he must declare his intentions towards Valerie more strongly. He wanted desperately to propose. That he was deeply in love with her was beyond any question and he knew she was deeply in love with him. But it needed more, a serious commitment.

On his mind were the peculiar times they were living in. Normally a man could bide his time, waiting at least a few more months before a proposal of marriage, maybe getting around to it gradually, the two of them thinking along the same lines. Under normal circumstances a young couple would have been able to take their time making any such move towards long-term decisions. But they no longer lived under normal circumstances. This was wartime. With the ever-mounting expectancy of an allied invasion looming, a government announcement bursting on them at any time, a man could be snatched from his girl at a moment’s notice. He needed to do something about the two of them well before anything like that happened. He needed to propose to her. Would she accept? Would she understand the need for haste?

He was sure she had the same thoughts in her mind, though she said nothing and he felt with a sinking heart that she was rather shy on the subject, maybe wary of letting herself be carried away and he respected and loved her for it. It was how a girl should be, not looking to slip straight into the bushes with a man as some did.

He thought of Mac, the first evening he’d met Valerie, Mac telling him later that he too had found a girl. For Mac it had been merely a short-lived thing and he’d gone through quite a few others since, enjoying it with whoever was willing, which seemed to be all he was after. That had been Mac’s way, not his.

‘You mean you haven’t had it off with her yet?’ Mac had asked incredulously after a few weeks of Norman seeing Valerie. The query had riled him to such an extent that he had rounded on the man in no uncertain terms and had nearly lost himself a friend.

But he too was beginning to ache for something more with Val than the usual kisses and cuddles, though winter had helped to curb the need to some extent with either blowing snow, ice pavements, biting winds, frosty air or chill fog. They’d cuddle close on the bus coming back from seeing a film in nearby Brentwood or having had a meal in a café or little restaurant, all he could afford on a corporal’s pay. If he was short of cash she often paid and he loved her for it. She was generous, sweet-natured, even-tempered; he couldn’t fault her in anything and he was proud of her. If only she’d unbend a little to his longing, but the moment he attempted anything she’d lean away ever so slightly and he’d get the message. One day, maybe.

He’d have liked to have taken her home to meet his parents when a thirty-six-hour Christmas leave had enabled him to go and see them, the holiday being a short one, falling on a Saturday as it had. But she had declined, nicely and with some regret.

‘It’s only right we should be with our own families at Christmas,’ she’d said, which was to be expected and he had understood.

He hadn’t enjoyed that leave, longing to get back to her. Nor had she it seemed, her relief at having him back almost painful to see, and it was maybe then that he’d really come to realise that things between them were becoming that bit more serious. Now he knew that when the time came he’d be able to propose to her without any fear of refusal.

Already he had it in mind for next month on her twentieth birthday in April. What she would think was an ordinary birthday present would instead be an engagement ring, and as she stood breathless with surprise, he would slip the ring on the third finger of her left hand as he popped the question. It would be romantic and he could hardly wait.

He’d been putting money by for months and soon there would be enough to buy a tolerably decent ring. She’d understand that a corporal’s pay could never extend to a huge solitaire. But a decent band of three diamonds would make it look much larger than it was. She would accept and he’d vow to make sure that when they could finally marry she’d still be as pure as she was now, despite his almost painful need for her as the weeks went on, compelling him to keep tight control over his natural needs. As small a thing as a goodnight kiss and cuddle usually left him aching, sure that if she would just let him touch her he’d feel better. She might even respond and surprise him, but he dared not risk it in case she took it wrong, ending in a row, even a break-up.

One thing he could do was prove himself a bit of a dare-devil, make her proud of him. She’d said often enough that she was proud of him, though he’d never really done anything to be proud of. But what if he managed to steal her into camp to take a peek at the chandelier that still drew him? Why it did he didn’t know, except he’d begun to feel he couldn’t rest unless he took a glimpse at it from time to time. In some strange way he felt it might help melt her heart if he got her to come and look at it.

The more he thought of it the more he became eager for her to see it. To his mind there seemed something very erotic about it and he felt that its influence might help cure her natural reluctance for love-making.

On several occasions he’d spoken to her of the thing, telling her how he’d come to discover it and describing the wonder of it. He’d seen her eyes light up with interest, but when he told her that he could arrange to sneak her into the camp so she could see it for herself, her reply was instant.

‘I couldn’t. That would be trespassing and that’s against the law. The place is out of bounds to civilians.’

‘You’ve nothing to be frightened of,’ he assured. ‘I’ll look after you. It’s being done all the time. There’s a broken down piece of the perimeter at the back that’s not yet been noticed and soldiers are always smuggling their girlfriends in.’

She knew why of course and immediately went on the defensive. ‘I’m not
any
girl, Norman. I hope that’s not what you have in mind.’

‘Of course not,’ he told her hastily. ‘I would do nothing to harm or hurt you. Why should I? I love you.’

Somehow it was becoming more and more imperative that she saw it, allowed him to share its wonder with her.

‘This is simply to show you the chandelier I discovered. I don’t want to keep it all to myself. I want to share it with you. It’s such a beautiful thing to look at. It’ll take your breath away. I’m chuffed at discovering it. No one else seems to have. I just want you to see it too, darling. You just have to.’

In his eagerness to impart his own pleasure of the thing, almost as if it had taken hold of him, the words poured from him. But her mind was less on what he was trying to describe than on a more basic matter.

‘How do you know so much about this break in the perimeter fence?’ she asked out of the blue, her faintly suspicious tone immediately quelling his rapid flow, replacing it with a surge of anger.

He stared at her, frowning. ‘It’s what the other men have told me,’ was all he could find to say, the wind taken completely out of his sails.

‘But how do
you
know where it is?’

‘What’re you trying to say, Valerie?’ he asked harshly, his anger rising even further. ‘What’re you trying to accuse me of?’

Surely she hadn’t realised what she was saying. She was too innocent a girl to dream him low enough to have enticed another girl over the fence for his own gratification. She must know he was above that sort of thing.

With an effort he managed to curb an outburst of fury. To lose his temper with her would be to lose her completely. But the sensation took a while to dissipate, leaving him trembling even as he forced his words to sound gentle and calm. He even managed a small, indulgent laugh.

‘What a silly goose you are, darling. Naturally the men talk among themselves. But the brass doesn’t know or it’d soon be made safe. But if you think I’d use it to sneak in some other woman …’

He let the words die away as her face crinkled with misery.

When he began again his tone was filled with passion. ‘Oh, my sweet, surely you didn’t think I’d ever dream of doing such a thing? I love you. Why would I ever even want to look at anyone else? You’re my world. You must know that.’

Tears were now trickling down her cheeks as she continued to look up at him with her expression of abject pleading.

‘I’m sorry,’ she burst out in a rush. ‘I don’t know what on earth made me say that. It just popped into my head from nowhere, just as if someone else was saying it for me. Forgive me, Norman, I was just suddenly so frightened of losing you.’

Her admission startled him. ‘Why would you imagine that?’ he cried, grabbing her to him to clasp her tightly.

Her head resting limply on his shoulder he heard her tremulous reply. ‘I don’t know why.’

‘I’d never leave you,’ he went on, still holding her to him, his gaze travelling past her into the dark, cold March night air beyond, imagining himself without her.

Bloody imagination! Sudden fear ripped through him so that he held her away from him to stare into her face again. Her expression was wan and tear-stained, pleading to be loved so that he drew her to him once more to press his lips to hers in a long, needful kiss. He felt her respond, felt the warmth of her body against his even through his thick army coat and her winter beige one. It felt good as they stood locked together in that kiss.

Finally releasing her, he murmured, ‘I’m sorry, my darling. I had no right to cause you all this upset. It was just a silly whim I had. But look, I won’t ask you to come and see that blasted chandelier if you don’t want to. It wasn’t fair of me to ask.’

To his surprise she whispered, ‘If it means that much to you, my love, maybe we’ll see. The thing is I’m a bit worried. I’ve never crept into a soldier’s camp before.’

It sounded such a very ridiculous statement for her to make that the pair of them suddenly burst out laughing, their voices echoing on the cold air as, still chuckling, he said, ‘Oh, I do love you!’

‘And I love you too,’ she returned, happy again. ‘So very, very much.’

This evening, unusually warm for April, he stood alone in the dark beside the broken area of the perimeter fence. Valerie’s birthday was tomorrow, but he’d been unable to wheedle a pass just as and when he wanted, so tonight would have to do.

The previous evening he’d got one of his platoon who did have a pass to deliver a note to her home, bribing him with a couple of drinks for his pains, the man willing enough to oblige after that. The note explained why he needed to see her tonight, just before her birthday, that he had something very special to give her, something far more special than any ordinary birthday present. Also that he had something very special he needed to ask her. He was sure she’d instantly guess what it was and that for that reason she would be here, no matter how nervous she was about the meeting place.

There was no reason to doubt she’d say yes, for over these last weeks their conversation had turned to making up romantic little scenes of how life could be when this war was over: weddings and bridesmaids and being together always instead of having to kiss goodbye to each other all the time; some pretty little flat of their very own somewhere and how she would decorate it, the furniture they would buy for it, of closing the curtains to shut out the long, cold evenings to sit together in front of a warm blazing fire listening to the wireless – all very cosy and pleasant. In all this he had not yet made any proper formal proposal, but such was the way many young couples drifted into marriage, so he’d heard.

Tonight he intended to propose, romantically. The engagement ring had been in his pocket for two weeks, he having managed to buy it in some rush in Brentwood. Maybe more sensible to have waited for the two of them to go together so she could have chosen what she wanted, but for the first time in his life he hadn’t felt sensible. He wanted to surprise her, see her eyes light up in joy and amazement. He hadn’t thought to formally ask her father for his permission, but after all it wouldn’t be until next year before they were married. By then she would be twenty-one and able to do what she wanted. Tonight he would slip the ring on her finger in the quiet interior of the outbuilding as they lay together near the chandelier, a perfect setting.

He’d asked the chap to whom he’d given the note to bring back a reply, the price of a third beer making him happy enough to do that extra chore, the man like some secret agent slipping the sealed envelope to him with a broad grin and a knowing wink as he passed Norman’s bed space.

Reading it, his heart had at first dropped like a stone as he read: ‘Darling, I don’t really think I have the courage to do what you ask, so I have sent the man away while I think what I should do.’