Time Goes By (26 page)

The other two were a few steps in front as they all headed towards the ballroom again. They sat on one of the red plush seats in an alcove from where they could see the ballroom floor. If they vacated their seats, though, to dance or to seek refreshment, they were almost sure to lose them. The place was always crowded on a Saturday evening and that night was no exception.

‘Have you been up to the top of the Tower?’ asked Nat.

‘Yes, once, when I was a little girl,’ replied Barbara. ‘I was with my aunt and uncle. I must admit it was a bit scary until I got used to it. Then I stopped being frightened and just enjoyed the wonderful views. You can see right across to Southport and the Welsh hills on a clear day, which it was at the time.’ She smiled. ‘We learnt at school that Blackpool Tower is five hundred and eighteen feet high. Not as tall as your Empire State Building, though!’

Nat’s eyes twinkled with amusement as they met hers. ‘No, I guess not. The Empire State is twice as high. Sorry about that, Barbara! Three hundred and eighty-one metres, so we’re told; I guess that must be well over one thousand feet.’

‘And have you been to the top?’

‘Yes, so I have, on my one and only visit to New York. We went as a family when I was in my teens. We did all the sights: the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, Fifth Avenue, Broadway … It’s a mighty fine city.’

‘I’m sure it must be. I’ve only been to London once, ages ago,’ Barbara said wistfully.

‘I’m sure you will, one of these days,’ said Nat, smiling understandingly at her.

‘When the war is over …’ mused Barbara. ‘That’s what we all keep saying, don’t we?’

‘Yes. All we can do is take a day at a time,’ said Nat. ‘None of us knows what’s in the future. But
we can try to make the most of every day, can’t we? Every day, every hour …?’ His voice was hushed so that no one but Barbara could hear. The other two, anyway, were engrossed in their own conversation.

Nat took hold of her hand, gazing at her intently. ‘You know what I’m saying, don’t you, Barbara?’

‘Yes, Nat … I guess I do,’ she replied as they exchanged a look of total empathy.

‘Shall we go and take a look at the aquarium?’ he suggested. ‘It’ll be nice and peaceful there, won’t it?’

‘I’m sure it will,’ said Barbara. ‘It’s ages since I was down there. It’s a strange place; at least I thought so when I was a little girl – all green and mysterious.’

Dorothy and Howard had gone onto the ballroom floor again, and Barbara could see them jigging about happily to the tune of the ‘Woodchopper’s Ball’. They seemed to be getting on very well, she pondered, but she doubted that there was the intensity of feeling that had developed between herself and Nat. Again a tiny voice at the back of her mind tried to tell her that she was playing with fire … but it was already too late.

They wandered downstairs, hand in hand, to the dimly lit, greenish gloom of the aquarium. It
resembled a cave with limestone pillars, where exotic fish from all over the world swam around in glass tanks. They strolled about, taking a brief look at the fish, but Barbara knew that what Nat wanted was a place where they could be on their own for a little while. There were just a few people, like themselves, gazing at the fish, but also enjoying the solitude of the surroundings.

They stopped near to one of the stone pillars. Nat put his arms around Barbara and drew her towards him. He leant forward and, very gently, kissed her on the lips. It was no more than that the first time, a very gentle, loving kiss. ‘Barbara …’ he murmured. ‘You know what has happened, don’t you? I’ve fallen in love with you. Tell me, please … I have to know. Is it … is it the same for you?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, Nat, it is. I’ve only known you for a week, but I feel as though I’ve known you for ages. Yes, Nat … I love you.’ Her voice was the faintest whisper. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do. I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s wrong, that I mustn’t … but it’s no use. I feel as though we were meant to be together … Is that dreadful of me?’

‘No … no, it isn’t!’ he answered, quite vehemently, although he was still speaking quietly. ‘I know that some might think so, that they will certainly think so. But I knew, almost the first
moment I met you. I’ve never felt like this before, about anyone. God help me, I love you, Barbara!’

‘I have a husband and a little girl,’ said Barbara, although neither of them needed reminding of that fact. ‘I told you so, last week. I knew I had to tell you … and I do love Kathy, so very much.’

‘And … your husband?’

Barbara sadly shook her head. ‘I’m fond of him. Albert was good to me, and I knew he’d take care of me. I wanted the security, but I know now that it was wrong of me. I should never have married him, not for that reason. I think I knew it at the time. Oh Nat … what are we going to do?’

He smiled at her, then he tenderly kissed her again. ‘For the moment, we’re not going to be miserable. As I said before, we have to take each day as it comes. We’d better go back now, hadn’t we, or the other two will wonder where we are.’

Dorothy and Howard were standing at the edge of the dance floor, as they had lost their seats. Barbara fancied that her friend gave her an odd look, but she, Barbara, smiled nonchalantly. ‘We’ve been to look at the fishes,’ she said brightly.

They danced again, then had a drink in the bar, and at ten-thirty they headed for home.

‘How about a change of venue next week?’ suggested Howard. ‘I’d sure like to take a look at your Winter Gardens; that is if you girls still want to see us?’

They agreed that they did, and that they would go to the Winter Gardens, rather than the Tower. Howard hung back as Nat said goodnight to Barbara.

‘Here …’ she said, stopping at a shop doorway, a little distance away from the boarding house. ‘My aunt and uncle might still be around. I’m sorry, Nat …’

He kissed her again, a little more ardently. ‘Don’t worry,’ he whispered. ‘I love you; just remember that. It’ll all sort itself out in the end, I’m sure.’

‘W
hat you’re doing is wrong,’ Dorothy told her friend. ‘You’re playing with fire; surely you must see that? For heaven’s sake, Barbara, put an end to it before it’s too late.’

The two friends were walking along the promenade near to the North Pier; Barbara was pushing little Katherine, fast asleep in her pram. Dorothy had phoned her asking if they could meet for a chat. They had decided on Wednesday afternoon, which was Dorothy’s half day off from the munitions factory where she worked. Barbara had already guessed that her friend might have some strong words to say to her. She knew now that she had not been mistaken about the odd looks – searching, knowing looks – that Dorothy had cast her way on Saturday night.

She had been surprised that Dorothy had
agreed to go along with the Americans’ suggestion that they should go to the Winter Gardens the following Saturday. But to refuse, of course, would have been to put an end to the fun that Dorothy was having with Howard – light-hearted, innocent fun, Barbara was sure. She knew that Dorothy was a far more easy-going person than herself. She seemed more able to take life as it came, in a much less serious way. Barbara did not think that her friend felt too intensely about anything, not even about her engagement to her fiancé, Raymond. All the same, she had made it clear that she would not cheat on him, and that her friendship with Howard was enjoyable, but of no consequence.

Barbara listened to her, as she knew she must. ‘I understand what you are saying,’ she replied, ‘and only a few weeks ago I would have agreed with you. I would have thought it was dreadful that a married woman, such as I am, could even think of carrying on with someone else. But you must see, Dorothy, that we’re not “carrying on”. Nothing has happened between us; you must understand that. When we met, Nat and me, there was an immediate attraction, a magnetism between us; we were both aware of it. And now … well, I’m afraid it’s already too late. I love him, and he loves me.’

‘But you’ve only known him for two weeks!
You’ve only met him twice. You can’t really be sure that you love him, not in such a short time. And what about your husband, and your little girl, bless her! Just look at her, Barbara, what a little treasure she is!’

‘Do you think I haven’t said the same thing to myself, time and time again? Yes, I know it’s wrong, Dorothy. Not that we’ve done anything really wrong as yet. And I wouldn’t do that anyway. You know what I mean; I would never sleep with him, have an affair, whatever you want to call it, as though it didn’t matter. It isn’t like that; I know that Nat respects me too much for that. It isn’t what either of us want … but we do love one another.’

Dorothy glanced across at her in what looked like a pitying way. She shook her head. ‘But that’s what it will lead to; you must know that, Barbara. Yes, I know he seems like a very nice bloke. They both are, Nat and Howard. But we don’t really know all that much about them, do we? If I were you I would put an end to it, now, before it goes any further. Look … why don’t I meet them on my own on Saturday night, and tell him that you’ve decided not to come? Believe me, Barbara, it’d be the best thing to do. It might hurt at first, but you’re going to get in too deep if it goes on any longer.’

Barbara shook her head. ‘You say “if you were
me”. But how can you say that? You’re not me, are you? You can’t possibly know how I feel, or what you would do if it had happened to you. I know you’re concerned about me. You’re probably annoyed with me, and I suppose you have every reason to be … but there’s nothing you can say that will make any difference.’ She glanced into the pram. Katherine was just opening her eyes and Barbara leant over to touch her downy cheek.

‘Yes, I love my little daughter more than I can say. It’s the one good thing that has come out of my marriage to Albert. Because I know now, Dorothy, that I should never have married him. I did so for all the wrong reasons. I don’t love him, not the way I should, and I know now that I never did. But there’s Kathy; that’s the awful part about it, and that’s what hurts, so very much. It’s agonising when I think how much Kathy means to me. And Albert thinks the world of her too. She doesn’t really know him yet, not in the way she knows me, because he’s not here very often. But I know it would hurt him if he ever had to part with her.’

She was silent for a few moments and her friend made no comment. But she could sense Dorothy’s disapproval, waves of reproach drifting across to her.

‘I’m so happy when I’m with Nat,’ she continued. ‘Yes, I know it’s been only a short
time, but when I’m with him I feel like a different person. I’ve never felt like this before about anyone; not even when I was engaged to Mike, although I was so sure that I loved him. And that’s what Nat said to me, that he’s never felt like this before. Oh, Dorothy, whatever are we going to do?’ She looked imploringly at her friend. But Dorothy’s reply was far from sympathetic.

‘I’ve told you what to do, Barbara. It’s the only way. You’ll have to put an end to it, straight away. You’d get over it …’

Barbara could see that Dorothy was getting exasperated, and the last thing she wanted to do was to quarrel with her friend. Heaven knows, she might need a friend who understood before long.

‘Please don’t be angry,’ she said, almost crying. ‘I didn’t ask for this to happen … the way I feel about Nat. It’s been totally unexpected, and I can’t just finish it, in spite of what you say. And I wouldn’t get over it, not so easily …’

‘Thousands of girls have had to get over far worse things, when their husbands and fiancés have been killed, just as you had to get over losing Mike. It’s wartime, Barbara. You don’t know what might happen to Nat. You and Nat, Howard and me, we’re what you might call ships that pass in the night.’

Barbara didn’t answer, and Dorothy was
beginning to realise that nothing she could say was going to make any difference. And she, too, did not want to lose her friend. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to quarrel with you, but I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t tell you how I feel. I’m concerned for you, Barbara, but maybe I can’t understand what you’re feeling. Maybe it hasn’t happened to me. I love Raymond, but it’s a pretty uncomplicated sort of relationship. Perhaps I’m better at compartmentalising my life than you are. Gosh! That’s a big word, isn’t it?’ She laughed. ‘Do you know what I mean, though? My time with Howard is separate from my feelings for Raymond. Howard and I will say goodbye at the end of the war or maybe sooner – whenever he’s sent elsewhere, who knows? – and we’ll have no regrets. But I can see, I suppose, that your involvement with Nat is rather different.’

Kathy was stirring now and making little cooing sounds as though she was singing to herself. Barbara stopped and sat her up against the pillow at the back of the pram. She was warmly dressed in a bright-pink jacket, bonnet and mittens. The colour suited her dark curls, peeping out from under the fur-trimmed bonnet. She smiled appealingly at both her mummy and Dorothy – she was not a shy child – reaching out her arms and saying something that sounded like ‘ma-ma’, followed by ‘ba-ba-ba’.

Dorothy laughed. ‘Isn’t she delightful? Is she trying to say Barbara?’

‘I don’t think so,’ smiled Barbara. ‘She says it all the time. It’s one of the easiest sounds to say.’

The feeling of tension between them was over as Barbara turned the pram round and they headed towards home. No more was said about the situation until they stopped to say goodbye at the end of the street where Dorothy lived.

‘Saturday evening, then?’ said Dorothy. ‘I suppose I can take it you’ll be going?’

Barbara nodded. ‘We agreed to meet them outside the Winter Gardens at half past seven, didn’t we? Shall I see you at the bus stop, then, at about ten past seven?’

‘That’s OK with me,’ said Dorothy. ‘Er … if you change your mind, just let me know.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ replied Barbara without smiling. ‘Just leave it, Dorothy, OK? I won’t change my mind. See you on Saturday …’

Barbara was aware of a feeling of foreboding for the next day or two. At first, little niggling doubts crept into her mind as she recalled all that her friend had said. Two weeks was such a short space of time, so how could she feel so sure? Was it just physical attraction, or the novelty of meeting someone so completely different from anyone she had known before? Did Nat really mean everything that he
said? And what about the future, the time when Albert would have to be told, as he surely must? She knew, though, despite her confusion and the misgivings that Dorothy’s words had given rise to, that she would be there again on Saturday night.

And, sure enough, all the negative feelings were put to one side when she met Nat again, at least for the time that they spent together. They danced and they had a drink at one of the several bars, the four of them chatting easily together. The men agreed that they were impressed with the glories of the Winter Gardens building. It was sumptuous throughout, comparing very favourably with the Tower. A flight of stairs from the Indian Lounge, which was lavishly decorated in an oriental style, led up to the equally splendid Empress Ballroom.

There were quiet walkways too, adorned with palm trees, ferns and lush foliage, where Barbara and Nat were able to be alone for a little while. They sat in a quiet alcove, looking at one another without speaking for several moments, but experiencing again the feelings and the attraction that had first drawn them together. Nat put his arms around her; he kissed her gently and tenderly, then again, more ardently.

Then he stopped. It was not the time nor the place, and both of them knew that. They did not want to make an exhibition of themselves, as very many couples were doing in wartime Blackpool.
On promenade benches; on the sands or the grass in the park, if the weather was clement; on the back row of the cinema; or under the pier … they were to be seen all over the place, girls with soldiers, sailors, airmen and GIs, and who could tell whether it was a one-night stand, a passing fancy, or something that would stand the test of time? Barbara and Nat knew that the feelings they had for one another were private and precious, and that they would have to wait.

They spoke very little of the future, not then or at further meetings. They both knew, though, that it would ultimately have to be faced; there would be a day of reckoning.

Nat told her about his life back in his hometown in Vermont, about his parents and his brother and sister. They were both older than he was and married with families. His brother, Lawrence, was thirty-five; unlike his brother he had not joined the army. Neither was he part of the family business as Nat was. Lawrence had shown no inclination for it; he was a bank manager in Montpelier, which was the capital city of Vermont. His sister, Nancy, was thirty and married to the owner of a sports emporium in Stowe, not far from the family hotel. Nat, at twenty-seven, was the baby of the family.

Barbara told Nat about her family background, how her parents had been killed when she was very young, and her upbringing with her aunt and
uncle. She told him, too, about her engagement to Mike, who had not returned from Dunkirk.

She felt honour-bound to mention Albert from time to time. Nat didn’t say, ‘Never mind about him,’ or words to that effect. Her husband was there as an undeniable fact, as was her baby daughter, and they could not be ignored.

‘Albert is a good man,’ she told Nat. ‘I’ve known him … well … for ever, really, because he lived next door. He was literally “the boy next door”, although he is fifteen years older than I am. He never seemed to be all that interested in girls; I don’t remember ever seeing him with one. He’s more of a man’s man, really, if you know what I mean. He loves his football and darts, and a pint at the pub now and again. He’s been good to me, kind and thoughtful.’ She did not say how Albert had spoken of his undying love for her and how he had said he would always be there for her, come what may. She tried to push memories such as those to the back of her mind.

And Albert likes his own way, she also thought to herself. He could be dogmatic and unbending, and when she forced herself to think about the future she could foresee trouble ahead.

‘Let’s take a day at a time,’ Nat always told her when she became too introspective. ‘When it’s time to face up to it all, I shall be with you every step of the way.’

There was a weekend when Dorothy’s fiancé was home on leave, but Howard came along with Nat – to the Tower on that particular Saturday – and he found plenty of partners to dance with. Barbara was sure he knew of the situation between herself and Nat, and he was extremely tactful and understanding. Whether he approved or not she was unable to tell.

Another time it was Barbara herself who was not there because Albert was home on leave. There were two such occasions during the time that Nat was stationed at Warton. On the first occasion she and Albert made love, though not without a sense of guilt on Barbara’s part. On the next occasion, some six weeks later, Barbara was relieved when the onset of her monthly period prevented this from happening.

Occasionally she was able to meet Nat during the week. Almost every afternoon, if the weather was not too cold or rainy, she took Katherine out for a walk in her pram. It seemed that the life at the American camp was pretty free and easy because Nat was able to get time off to be with her. She met him near to the North Pier and she wheeled the pram down the slope to the lower prom. It was far more secluded than the upper promenade, where the RAF recruits who were stationed in the town were often to be seen walking along in small groups, and where the tramcars clanged and
clattered by, bound for Squires Gate or Cleveleys.

They sat on a bench, Nat’s arm around her, relishing their brief time together. They could hear the sound of the waves beating against the sea wall and the cry of the seagulls as they exchanged kisses of love and longing. They knew, though, that that was all they could do, that now was not the time nor the place.

Nat was enchanted with Kathy, who cooed and laughed and held out her arms to him. She had learnt to wave ‘bye-bye’, one of the first things learnt by all babies. She waved dutifully as they parted by North Pier where Nat boarded a tram to take him towards Squires Gate. In fact, Kathy then continued to wave to imaginary people all the way home, and was still doing it when they entered the house and saw Aunt Myrtle.