‘I just fancied sitting in the fresh air for a bit after being in the factory all day, that’s all.’ She didn’t want her mother getting side-tracked, so she rushed on. ‘He wants to take me for a fish supper on Friday night. Please say yes. Please, please, please!’
Amusement lit up Eleanor Downer’s features as she forgot about the folly, focussing instead on her daughter’s coltish excitement. She exchanged a glance with Ginny who was also smiling, a rare sight these days. ‘Well, then Connie,’ Eleanor said. ‘Don’t leave the lad hanging about on the street, best you tell him to come on up.’
͠
Constance, her stomach flip-flopping, led Henry through to the sitting room. Her mother was standing by the fireplace alongside her father who up until a moment ago, she knew would have been relaxing in his favourite chair listening to the wireless as was his custom at the end of the working day.
‘Mr and Mrs Downer, it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Henry said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched toward her father. The two men shook hands, and Constance noticed the freckles scattered across the back of Henry’s. He turned his attention to her mother. ‘You’re surely not Constance’s mother? Her elder sister perhaps?’
Her mother giggled despite the cliché, and Constance knew he’d won her over. Eleanor Downer had not giggled in ever such a long time.
Ginny poked her head in through the door to say that dinner was ready before stepping shyly forth to be introduced to Henry. Even she seemed to blossom and shake off a little of the heavyweight she perpetually dragged around as he chatted amiably to her.
‘Now tell me, Henry, what do they feed you at the camp of yours?’ Eleanor interrupted wary of the meal turning into a congealed mess if she didn’t serve up shortly.
Henry took the bait. ‘Well now Mrs Downer, the cook does her best, but the food’s not a patch on my mom’s home cooking.’
‘Then perhaps you’d like to join us for supper? Its nothing fancy but it is home cooking.’
‘I’d like that very much. Thank you, Mrs Downer.’
An extra place was set, and Constance could have hugged her mother for eking out the spam hash so that Henry had an ample serving on his plate. She looked at him across the table noting the almost gingery glint of his stubble in the light. His face was strong and chiselled, but it was softened by the dusting of freckles across his nose and the dimples that appeared each time he smiled. He seemed to fill a void, space where Ted had once sat, making them laugh with his escapades. The sound of laughter shooed the sombre atmosphere that had lingered since her brother’s passing away as Henry told them a story about a naughty black bear who’d got the family’s trash can stuck on his head. The most they’d ever had to contend with was the odd fox! By the time they’d all cleaned their plates their bellies were both full and aching from laughing. And nobody cared in the slightest that it was bread and butter pudding again for afters.
Henry joined her father for a snifter of sherry in the sitting room when the last of the pudding had been scraped from its bowl leaving the three women to clear the dinner things away.
Ginny, wielding the tea towel, whispered in Constance’s ear before setting about wiping the plates dry that Connie had found herself a fine young man and that Evie would turn pea-green when she heard. Constance grinned back at her. She could tell by the way her mother was humming as she tackled the pan with the wire brush that it was a sentiment she shared too.
‘Connie, Henry’s off now,’ Arthur said, appearing in the kitchen a while later. It was her cue to walk him downstairs.
Henry stepped past him. ‘Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home Mr and Mrs Downer, Ginny.’ He shook hands with Constance’s father once more and nodded toward the two women. ‘I’ll be sure to write to my mom as soon as I get back to camp and tell her I just ate the best meal I’ve had since I left home.’ Both Ginny and Eleanor preened. He turned his attention back to Constance’s father. ‘Before I go, sir, I was wondering if I could have your permission to take Constance out for a fish supper and a stroll along the waterfront this Friday night.’
Arthur Downer looked at his daughter whose eyes were wide with silent pleading, and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. His wife and daughter-in-law too were waiting for his answer with bated breath. He knew there was a likelihood of being lynched with a tea towel and a wire brush were he to say no. ‘I think that would be fine Henry. You’ll call for her here of course.’
‘Of course sir. Six thirty on the dot.’
‘And home by nine.’
Nine! Constance was outraged. That was ridiculously early. She caught her mother’s warning gaze and decided to keep her thoughts to herself.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Friday it is then.’
Henry’s smile was wide. ‘Thanks again for your hospitality. It was real good to meet you all.
Goodnight then.’
‘Goodnight, mind how you go.’
Constance led the way down the stairs and out the back door. It had grown dark in the interim, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill air as she stood on the empty Esplanade.
‘I’m really glad I met you, Constance.’ Henry’s face was earnest despite the dim light.
She smiled shyly up at him. ‘Call me Connie, and I’ll see you on Friday then?’
‘Six thirty.’ He smiled and for a moment as he hesitated she thought he might lean down to kiss her goodnight, and she held her breath. Instead, he gave
