threads inside her. She felt happy in spite of the threat of air raids, in spite of the constant play of searchlights overhead on the lookout for enemy planes. Her foot brushed against a sandbag and a shower of sand scattered over her lovely red shoes. She brushed it aside impatiently. A stone dug into the hole in her shoe but she ignored it; nothing was going to spoil her happiness. Tonight she would be with Eddie and soon, she was sure, he would propose.
She loved him, ‘loved the bones of him’ as her mammy would say. Eddie wasn’t handsome, he had a sweet mouth underneath a golden moustache, his eyes were blue and they looked at her with love and respect. Very important that, respect.
For a moment she felt uneasy, wishing she hadn’t given herself to any other man. But then they were in need, frightened, wanting the warmth and comfort of a woman’s arms. Any woman’s arms. She was uneasy again.
Eddie was waiting for her outside the Empire and he smiled and moved towards her the instant he saw her. He took her hands and leaned down to kiss her cheek. She felt a flare of happiness and cuddled his arm close to her side.
‘Easy there!’ he said, ‘you’ll give a boy unworthy thoughts.’
She wished sometimes he would have ‘unworthy thoughts’. She should be happy—but now, she was used to a man, the scent, the touch, the thrusting passion that swamped every sensible thought.
He’d managed to get her some chocolate and he gave it to her in the perfumed intimacy of the theatre, his fingers gently squeezing hers. She took his hand and kissed it. ‘I love you, Eddie Carter,’ she whispered in the soft darkness.
Behind her there was a shuffling sound and she glanced over her shoulder and froze as she met the mocking gaze of Stephen, her first pilot. He winked slowly, suggestively—and abruptly she turned away.
The audience fell silent as the curtain swished open and then the stage was filled with light and music and dancing girls in gaudy dresses, but under the lights they looked ethereal, beautiful.
The thought of Stephen plagued her all evening. She thought of him as he’d been that long ago cold night, soft, clinging and needy in her arms and yet now he looked at her so differently as though… as though she was nothing more than a good-time girl.
She was glad to join the crowds singing the national anthem and then they were in the carpeted aisle, making for the door.
‘Wait up there.’ It was Stephen. ‘I’m going to a party back stage, want to come, you chaps?’
Kate was about to decline but Eddie was smiling politely. ‘Very kind, old man, love to wouldn’t we, Kate?’ He drew her hand through his arm in a proprietary way and Stephen looked amused.
‘I might be in the skies over German territory later on, you never know, tonight could be a matter of life or death so I’ve got to make the most of it haven’t I, Kate?’
He had changed so much. Stephen was hard, the baby softness of his jaw gone, a cynical light in his eyes. ‘The dancing girls here are always so, so
Eddie didn’t. He stuck out his hand. ‘Edward Carter.’
Stephen looked surprised. ‘No names, no pack drill, eh, old chap?’
Eddie dropped his hand. ‘No, I suppose not.’
The room in the back of the theatre was hot with smoke and ripe with heavy perfume. To Kate’s disappointment, the dresses of the dancers, so lovely on stage, were no more than bits of straggly net revealing a great deal of flesh. Drinks were handed round, mock champagne but with a real kick to it.
Stephen had wandered away and was leaning over a girl with dyed blonde hair and Kate grimaced. The girl should work in the munitions, she’d have yellow hair courtesy of the Ministry of Defence.
The girl looked Kate’s way and she was laughing. ‘Looks like butter wouldn’t melt.’ The words drifted to where Kate stood. She felt the colour suffuse her cheeks and shame crawled over her like the legs of a centipede.
‘Let’s go,’ she said to Eddie, ‘I don’t want to be here.’
‘OK.’ Eddie smiled. ‘I’ll just pop to the WC and then we’ll be away, this isn’t really our kind of thing is it?’
While Eddie was away from her, Kate fumed with impatience. The girl Stephen had been talking to looked her over and strolled to where she stood. ‘So you know Stephen, do you?’
‘Well…’ Kate spread her hands not knowing what to say. To her horror she saw Stephen and Eddie return to the room together. Stephen had his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie was looking pale and stunned.
He came to her side without looking at her.
‘Hello,’ the blonde said, smiling her lipstick smile at him. ‘I’m Marybell.’ It was a name as false as the quality of her dress. The dancer held out her hand to Eddie in a languid, affected pose and after a moment he took it but didn’t look up.
‘So you’re keeping company with little Irish Kate.’ She looked down from her great height at Kate. ‘Little Joan of Arc, saving everyone except herself.’
‘We’d better go.’ Eddie nodded curtly and turned towards the door and, with a baleful look at Stephen, Kate hurried to catch up with him.
He strode away in the darkness and she struggled to keep up with him. ‘Wait Eddie, tell me what’s wrong!’
‘What’s wrong?’ He spun round to face her and all she could see were the dark edges of his jaw and the tautness of cheeks. ‘I’ve just heard you’re the best blanket the forces have got, lay down for anyone.’
‘Eddie! And you believe that drunken Stephen’s every word do you?’
He became still. ‘Are you telling me it’s a lie? If you are I believe you, Kate, God, I want to believe you.’
She hung her head. ‘It’s true I let Stephen… he was frightened, flying into danger, he might not come back, ever. I felt sorry for him.’
‘So was he the only one you felt sorry for?’
She was silent a long moment. ‘No.’
‘Oh Kate, I worshipped you, I might have known it wouldn’t be true that you loved me, plain gormless Eddie.’ His voice was anguished.
‘I do love you!’ Kate pressed herself against him wound her arms around his neck, her hand on his hair. She felt the edge of his army cap. Soon Eddie would be off to war and he would go hating her.
‘You’d better go home.’ His voice was breathless. She could feel him hard against her. Experienced now, she slipped open his buttons and touched him; he was so taut his skin was like silk. He groaned. ‘Kate, please don’t, I’ve tried so hard to be respectful. I’ve worshipped you like a goddess.’
She drew him down on the ground and took control of him. He had no will to resist though when he entered her, he was crying bitter tears. It was over in minutes and he fell away from her still crying. She held him then for a long while and they lay like wounded animals together.
Overhead, the planes began to drone, German planes. The bombs exploded round them, the incendiary bombs lit up the world. It was like a party, but in Kate’s heart, it was more like a wake.
Nine
I was cold, my feet were wet, my stomach ‘felt as if my throat had been cut’ as Kate’s mum used to say. Anyway, my poor belly was empty and grumbling, I felt angry and miserable and all I wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep.
I found a barn at last and stumbled inside and pulled bits of straw over me for warmth. Straw was supposed to be warm, according to war hints you could even cook food in straw. I could hear the sound of some animal in the darkness but I didn’t care, I couldn’t go another step further not even if a cow sat down at my side and fell asleep with me.
I was dozing when I heard Michael’s voice, and I thought I was dreaming. I sat up when my name was called and I crawled to the door and peered out. I could see the dimness of a lantern quite near.
‘Michael!’ My voice quavered with weariness but he heard me. He came towards me at a run and I took his hand and pulled him into the barn.
