But sleep was still difficult. She would dream of saving their parents, only for them all to die together. She would dream of their last moments in graphic detail. She would see the shadow of the Zeppelin looming and feel as though she was being crushed. Sleep became dangerous to her. Not only did the nightmares torture her, she could not help but linger on how her parents had died while they slept. Even when she did sleep, the cries and groans of the other patients in her ward would intrude into her consciousness. It was always worst at night, when there were no visitors to distract them from the pain and horror of it all. The nurses could not sit by her side all night, and she could not expect it. She made herself suffer in silence and darkness, telling herself she had to be strong. The world was full of death; it was not her place to be self-indulgent in her grief.
When Jos eventually returned home, she had been different. Vernon said the pain and loss had aged her, made her too serious. She did not fully agree with that assessment. It was rather that she saw life differently. She no longer wanted to fill it with the fantasy of acting, the illusion of pretending to be other characters. Although she’d stayed in the theatre, she’d chosen practical, realistic work. And she had decided that it was time to stop denying the desire for other women she’d been suppressing since her early teens. If death stalked so close, she would accept it and live her days just as she chose. No matter if she had to drink scotch to help her sleep. It turned out that most of her generation were doing just the same thing, with scotch, gin, or worse.
So now, in her armchair, she thought of all those long, sleepless nights she’d spent and realised this was different. She was not troubled by her past or by the sense of fear that sometimes gripped her. She was excited, in a way that felt hopeful and good. There was no point denying the source of the feeling. It was that brief encounter with Evelyn Hopkins.
Jos was no innocent. Her most recent dalliance with a beautiful woman was only weeks ago. Women looking to experiment, even if just for a night, with their sensual desires were everywhere these days. To sleep with a woman was decadent and daring, less risky than doing the same with a man, and Jos was interesting enough, it seemed, to get more than her fair share. The last entanglement, with a blond flapper named Daisy, had lasted a few weeks and she’d had fun. But neither of them had been serious in their commitment to each other. In fact, Jos found, she was rarely serious in her commitment. The women she encountered were probably even less concerned with the longevity of the arrangement than she was. Commitment to anything was rare these days. Apparently it was too old-fashioned to commit.
Jos did not really object to this. It made life much easier if she could satisfy her carnal desires and have a few light-hearted conversations, without having to bring her emotions into the picture. Too many women, once they got properly involved with her, wanted to know why she was the way she was. Wanted to save her from herself. If she ever got so attached to a woman that she told the story of her parents’ death and her own narrow escape, she hated to see the pity in their eyes. She preferred her relationships brief, lacking in deep emotion, and more or less anonymous.
With this in mind, it was queer that she felt so drawn to Evelyn Hopkins. The girl was clearly out of her depth in London, with no real idea of the dangers she faced. And in the clutches of Lilian Grainger too! Jos sighed. She did not like Lilian. It was partly because her own brother seemed quite enamoured of her, of course, and she did not think any woman was good enough for Vernon, whilst he seemed quite determined to try the entire female population. Not that promiscuity concerned her, but it was rather the effect these women exerted on Vernon. Lilian, in particular, seemed to be a bad influence, and he’d been more moody since he’d been involved with her, more cynical than ever. However, her dislike of Lilian was also because Lilian seemed to sneer at her, only being polite when forced. For all of her fashion and claims of modernity, she suspected Lilian was rather conservative and struggled with the idea of Jos’s love for her own sex. None of which would matter if it was not that Lilian would be exerting her irresistible influence over Evelyn. And somehow it already mattered to her that Evelyn did not disapprove.
She closed her eyes and tried to pin down exactly what it was about Evelyn that intrigued her so much. The obvious answer was that wide-eyed innocence. But innocence was not a quality that Jos was usually drawn to, since it spelled the way to outright rejection or too many questions. Evelyn was undeniably beautiful, with that luxuriant chestnut hair and lively eyes. But it was more that: her handshake had been firm and, despite clearly being far from her natural environment, Evelyn still exuded a certain confidence in herself. To be so far from home and yet still composed in this world was quite a feat. Evelyn was a strong woman, though Jos suspected she didn’t consider herself as such. Strength was a powerful draw. As was independence of mind.
She’d only
