The Secret Keeper (55 page)

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Authors: Kate Morton

Tags: #General, #Literary, #Historical, #War & Military, #Fiction, #Non Genre

BOOK: The Secret Keeper
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Jimmy didn’t answer; he’d been looking at her as she said it but now he turned away. Something about her face as he watched her had inspired a clear and focused image in his mind of the two of them, him and her, running off to the seaside together, that made him want to stop her, right now in the street, cup her face in his hands and kiss her long and hard. Christ. What was the matter with him?

Jimmy lit a cigarette and smoked as he walked. ‘What about you?’ he muttered, ashamed, and trying to make amends. ‘What’s in your future? What do you dream of?’

‘Oh—’. She waved a hand. ‘I don’t spend too much time thinking about the future.’

 

They reached the underground station and enacted an awkward goodbye. Jimmy felt uncomfortable, not to mention guilty, especially because he was going to have to hurry to meet Dolly at Lyons as they’d planned. All the same—

‘Let me go with you to Kensington,’ he called after Vivien. ‘Make sure you get home safely.’

She glanced back at him. ‘You’re going to catch the bomb with my number on it?’

‘I’ll give it a good try.’

‘No,’ she said, ‘No, thanks. I prefer to go alone.’ And with that a flash of the old Vivien was back, the one who’d walked ahead of him in the street and refused even to smile.

 

Dolly sat smoking as she watched for Jimmy from the window of the restaurant. Every so often she turned away from the glass, brushing at the white fur of her coat sleeve. It was too warm, really, to be wearing fur, but Dolly didn’t like to take it off. It made her feel important—powerful even—and she needed that now more than ever. Lately she’d had the terrible feeling that the strings were slipping through her fingers and she was beginning to lose control. The fear made her sick to the stomach—worst of all was the creeping uncertainty that came upon her in the night.

The plan, when she’d conceived it, had seemed perfect—a simple way of teaching Vivien Jenkins a lesson, while making things right for Jimmy and herself—but as time went on and Jimmy got no closer to setting up a meeting to take the photo-graph, as Dolly noticed the distance growing between them, the trouble he had meeting her eyes, she was beginning to realise she’d made a huge mistake; that she should never have asked Jimmy to do it. At her lowest moments, Dolly had even started to wonder that he might not love her in quite the same way, that he might not think she was exceptional any more. And that thought made her truly frightened.

They’d quarrelled terribly the other night. It had started over nothing, some comment she’d made about Caitlin Rufus, the way she’d behaved when they went out dancing together recently with Kitty and the others. It was the sort of thing she’d said a hundred times before, but somehow this time it turned into a full-blown argument. She’d been shocked at the sharp way he’d spoken to her, the things he’d said; he’d told her she ought to choose better friends if her old ones were such a dis-appointment; that she might even think about coming to visit him and his father next time instead of going out with people she clearly didn’t like; and it had seemed so uncalled for, so unkind, she’d started crying in the street. Usually when Dolly cried, Jimmy realised how hurt she was and moved to make things better, but not this time. He’d only shouted, ‘Christ!’, and walked away, fists balled by his side.

Dolly had swallowed her sobs then, listening and waiting in the dark, and for a minute she’d heard nothing. She’d thought she was truly alone, that somehow she’d pushed him too far and he really had left her this time.

He hadn’t, he’d come back, but instead of saying sorry as she expected, he’d said in a voice she almost didn’t recognise, ‘You should have married me, Doll. You should have bloody well married me when I asked.’

Dolly had felt a whimper rise painfully in her throat when he said it, and she’d heard herself cry, ‘No, Jimmy—you should have asked me sooner!’

They’d made up afterwards on the steps of Mrs White’s boarding house. They’d kissed each other goodnight, carefully, politely, and agreed that emotion had got the better of them; that was all. But Dolly knew it was more than that. She’d stayed awake for hours afterwards, thinking back over the past weeks, remembering each time she’d seen him, the things he’d said, the way he’d behaved, and as she did, as it all played out across her mind, she’d known. It was the plan, the thing she’d asked him to do. Rather than fixing matters between them as she’d hoped, her clever plan ran the risk of spoiling everything …

Now, in the cafe, Dolly extinguished her cigarette and took the letter from her bag. She shucked it from its envelope and read it again. A job offer from a boarding house called Sea Blue. It was Jimmy who’d found the advert in the newspaper and clipped it for her. ‘It sounds great, Doll,’ he’d said. ‘Glorious spot on the coast—seagulls, salt on the air, ice cream … And I can get work doing … well, I’ll find something.’ Dolly hadn’t really been able to picture herself sweeping up after pale, sandy holiday-makers, but Jimmy had stood over her until she wrote the letter and there’d been a part of her that quite liked seeing him all forceful like that. In the end she’d decided, why not? It would keep Jimmy sweet, and if she got the job she could always write back quietly and turn it down. At the time, Dolly had reasoned that she wouldn’t need a position like that one, not when Jimmy finally arranged the photograph with Vivien—

The door to the cafe opened and Jimmy came through. He’d been running, she could tell—eager to see her, she hoped. Dolly waved and watched him as he crossed to the table; his dark hair had fallen over his face, making him seem handsome and dishevelled in a dangerous sort of way. ‘Hey, Doll,’ he said, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Bit too warm for fur, isn’t it?’

Dolly smiled and shook her head. ‘I’m all right.’

She moved across on the booth seat, but he sat down opposite, lifting his hand to call the waitress.

Dolly waited until they’d ordered tea and then she could stand it no longer. She took a deep breath and said, ‘I’ve had an idea.’ His face tensed and she felt a stab of self-reproach, realising how wary he’d become. She reached gently to stroke his hand. ‘Oh, Jimmy, it’s nothing like that—’. She broke off, chewing the inside of her cheek. ‘In fact—’ she lowered her voice—‘I’ve been thinking about the other thing, the plan.’

He lifted his chin defensively and she continued in a hurry, ‘Only, I thought maybe you ought to forget about it—setting up the meeting, the photograph.’

‘Really?’

She nodded, and by the look on Jimmy’s face Dolly knew she’d made the right decision. ‘I should never have asked you—’ her words were tumbling together now—‘I wasn’t thinking straight. The whole thing with Lady Gwendolyn, my family … it made me a bit crazy, I think, Jimmy.’

He came to sit beside her and took her face in his hands. His dark eyes searched hers. ‘Of course it did, my poor girl.’

‘I should never have asked you,’ she said again as he kissed her. ‘It wasn’t fair. I’m sor—’

‘Shh,’ he said, relief warming his voice. ‘Never mind about that. It’s in the past. You and I need to put all that behind us and look forward.’ ‘I’d like that.’

He pulled back to consider her; he shook his head and then laughed with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. It was a lovely sound that sent tingles down Dolly’s spine. ‘I’d like that too,’ he said. ‘Let’s start with your idea. You were going to tell me some-thing when I first arrived?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ said Dolly excitedly. ‘The show you’re putting on—I’m supposed to work, but I thought I’d play hookey and come with you to the performance instead.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course. I’d love to meet Nella and the others, and when else am I going to get the chance to see my boy play Tinker-bell?’

 

The first and final performance of Peter Pan by the young thespians of Dr Tomalin’s Hospital for War Orphans was an unmitigated success. The children flew and fought and made magic out of the dusty attic and a few old sheets; those too ill to take part shouted and swooned and cheered from where they’d been carried up to form the audience; and Tinkerbell, under Jimmy’s steady hands, acquitted herself admirably. The kids surprised Jimmy, afterwards, by taking down the painted ‘Jolly Roger’ sign, replacing it with a ‘Nightingale Star’, and then performing a version of the story he’d told them, an act they’d been practising for weeks in secret. Dr Tomalin gave a speech after the cast had made (yet another) final curtain call, and gestured for Vivien and Jimmy to take a bow, too. Jimmy eyed Doll in the audience, waving at him; he smiled back and gave her a wink.

He’d been worried about bringing her today; though now he wasn’t sure why. He supposed when she suggested it, he’d felt a surge of guilt over his closeness to Vivien, an anxiety that things might turn out badly between them. The second it be-came clear he wasn’t going to be able to talk her out of coming, Jimmy had gone into damage-control mode; he hadn’t con-fessed his friendship with Vivien, instead, he’d concentrated on explaining the way he’d taken her to task for treating Dolly so unkindly when she returned the locket.

‘You told her about me?’

‘Of course,’ Jimmy said, reaching to hold Doll’s hand as they left the cafe and headed out into the blackout. ‘You’re my girl. How could I not talk about you?’

‘What did she say—did she admit it? Did she tell you how ghastly she was?’

‘She did.’ Jimmy stopped walking while Doll lit a cigarette. ‘She felt horrible about it. She said she’d suffered some sort of shock that day, but that it didn’t excuse her behaviour.’

In the moonlight, he saw Dolly’s bottom lip trembling with emotion. ‘It was awful, Jimmy,’ she said in a whisper. ‘The things she said. The way they made me feel.’

He threaded her hair behind her ear. ‘She wanted to apologise to you, she tried to, apparently, but when she went to Lady Gwendolyn’s house, no one was there.’

‘She came to see me?’

Jimmy nodded, and he noticed her face soften. Just like that, all the bitterness was gone. The transition was breathtaking, and yet he shouldn’t have been surprised. Doll’s emotions were kites with long strings, no sooner did one dip than another brilliant colour caught the breeze.

They’d gone dancing afterwards and for the first time in weeks, without that bloody plan hanging over their heads, Jim-my and Dolly had had a good time together, just like they used to. They’d laughed, and joked with one another, and by the time he kissed her goodnight and sneaked back out of Mrs White’s lower window, Jimmy had started to think it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, to bring Doll with him to the play.

And he’d been right. After a shaky start the day had gone off better than he could have dreamed. Vivien had been fixing the sail to the ship when they first arrived. He’d seen the surprise on her face when she turned and saw him with Doll, the way her smile had started to slide before she caught it, and he’d felt an initial stab of misgiving. She’d climbed down carefully as Jimmy was hanging up Doll’s white coat, and when the two of them said ‘hello’ Jimmy had held his breath. But the greeting had gone smoothly. He’d been pleased and proud at the way Dolly handled herself. She’d gone out of her way to put the past behind her and be friendly towards Vivien; he could see that Vivien was relieved, too, though quieter than usual, and perhaps less warm. When he asked whether Henry was coming to watch the performance, she’d looked at him as if he’d just insulted her before reminding him that her husband had a very important job with the Ministry.

Thank God for Dolly, who’d always had the gift of being able to lighten a mood. ‘Come on Jimmy,’ she’d said, linking her arm through Vivien’s as the children started to arrive. ‘Take a photo-graph, why don’t you? Your two favourite girls.’

Vivien had started to demur, saying she didn’t enjoy having her picture taken, but Doll was trying so hard and Jimmy didn’t want to throw her efforts back in her face. ‘Promise it won’t hurt,’ he’d said with a smile, and eventually Vivien had nodded faint agreement …

The applause finally died down, and Dr Tomalin told the children that Jimmy had something for all of them and the announcement was met with another round of cheering. Jimmy waved at them and started handing out copies of the photograph. He’d taken it a fortnight ago, when Vivien was still away sick, the whole cast in costume, standing together on the ship set.

Jimmy had printed one for Vivien, too; he spied her over in the far corner of the attic, gathering discarded costumes into a woven basket. Dr Tomalin and Myra were talking to Dolly so he took it over to her.

‘So,’ he said, arriving at her side.

‘So.’

‘Rave reviews in tomorrow’s newspaper, I should think.’

She laughed. ‘Without doubt.’

He handed her a print. ‘This is for you.’

She took it, smiling at the children’s faces. She leaned to put down the basket and when she did her blouse gaped slightly and Jimmy glimpsed a bruise stretching from her shoulder to her chest bone.

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