Bye Bye Love (14 page)

S
CARLETT
put Jonathan’s latest letter safely in her pocket. It was no use, however hard she tried she couldn’t picture his world, beyond its being very hot and very different. It had been bad enough when he was in Paris, but at least then he had only been across the Channel. Malaya was so far away. Just trying to imagine the climate was impossible. But at least he was safe. Instead of being sent into the jungle to fight guerrillas, someone had realised that he was in the catering corps and he was now running the kitchen at an army hospital.

Here in Southend it was summer, but she still needed a cardigan over her blouse and skirt when she cycled to work in the mornings. Jonathan spoke of being boiling hot in the middle of the night, and things rotting from the damp. It sounded more like a different planet than a different country.

The work she was doing didn’t help. There was nothing about it to engage her mind at all. It was similar to her very first job, and involved riveting bits of electric plugs together. Sometimes she felt so bored she wanted to scream or attack someone or throw something into a machine and wreck it. All the petty dislikes and rivalries that seethed in practically every place she worked were due to the grinding sameness of the days. Having a feud with someone made for some drama. Getting one over on them made a point to the long featureless days. What made it even worse was not having a television. Everyone discussed what they’d seen the evening before and she couldn’t join in. She couldn’t see that she and her father would ever be able to afford a set. It was difficult enough paying for the essentials plus her new radio, without finding enough for TV rental and licence.

At least today she was going to Brenda’s for tea, which was something to look forward to. They could have a good chat and watch TV there. In spite of having no husband bringing in wages, Brenda’s mother still managed to have a TV set.

‘I’m fed up,’ she told her friend as they cycled home at the end of the day.

‘You’re always blooming fed up.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are. And I’m getting fed up of you being fed up. You’re no fun at all.’

‘Oh.’

That really jolted Scarlett. Thinking about it, it was hard to remember when she’d last had fun, apart from having a laugh with Brenda and the girls at work, or with Brenda and her new boyfriend Chris, though that was always a bit uncomfortable since she was the gooseberry all the time. Everyone seemed to have a boyfriend and they all went out on Friday and Saturday nights while she stayed in. Jonathan, on the other hand, seemed to be having a whale of a time. Every week at his hospital there seemed to be a party. Leaving parties, twenty-first birthday parties, beach parties. Any excuse, it appeared to her, to get together and have a knees-up. And, of course, being a hospital, there were lots of nurses, so it wasn’t just the lads having a drink. There was dancing.

‘I don’t mean to be,’ she said. ‘Bet you don’t dare do this!’

She took both hands off the handlebars and steered by shifting her body weight from side to side. The road sloped downwards, not quite a hill, but enough to get up a fair speed. Scarlett spread her arms out and shrieked with fear and excitement as she hurtled towards the main road at the bottom. Behind her, she could hear Brenda screaming at her to stop. At the last minute, she grabbed the brakes and skidded to a halt, just as a lorry went by. Brenda almost crashed into her. Laughing and gasping, she turned to her friend. The blood was coursing round her body. She felt alive again.

‘That fun enough for you?’ she asked.

‘You’re mad, you are,’ Brenda told her. ‘You nearly got yourself killed.’

‘Better than being bored to death.’

‘No need to get bored to death. Come dancing with me on Friday night.’

Scarlett scooted across the road before the next car came along, closely followed by Brenda.

‘I don’t want to play gooseberry to you and Chris, thank you very much,’ she said.

‘You don’t have to. I’m giving him the elbow,’ Brenda told her.

They cycled along side by side.

‘You’re joking! Last week you said he was the love of your life.’

‘Yeah, well—maybe he wasn’t. I just sort of looked at him last night and it was like…like the lights had been turned off, you know? And I thought to myself, what am I doing with him? He’s not good looking and he’s not clever and all he talks about is motorbikes. It wouldn’t be so bad if he had a motorbike, but he hasn’t. He just talks about them. So I’m not in love with him any more.’

Scarlett shook her head. She could no more stop loving Jonathan than she could fly. Missing him was a constant ache.

‘But you wanted to marry him.’

‘I know. Mad, ain’t it? Lucky escape. So—I’m a free woman again. You going to come dancing or not?’

Scarlett had always refused before, but in her pocket was Jonathan’s latest letter, full of those parties.

‘I’ve got nothing to wear,’ she said, which was true.

‘That’s easy. Borrow something of mine,’ Brenda offered.

‘Could I?’

‘’Course! What’re friends for?’

‘Brenda, you’re a darling!’

Once decided, she found she was really looking forward to it. By Friday evening she was in a fever of excitement.

‘You’re very cheerful. What’s up?’ Victor asked, as she sang and danced while getting the tea ready.

‘Aren’t I always cheerful?’ Scarlett said.

‘Well—not like this, all of a twitch. You going out somewhere?’

Scarlett was surprised. She hadn’t realised that he noticed her changes of mood.

‘I’m going to the Kursaal ballroom with Brenda.’

‘Oh—’ Victor nodded slowly, turning it over in his mind. ‘Well, you be careful. How are you getting home? Don’t go accepting any lifts from men in cars.’

Scarlett was touched. He did care. It might seem sometimes as if he hardly noticed she was there, but he still loved her as much as he ever had.

‘We’ll get a bus, or walk.’

‘But it’ll be late at night.’ Victor put down his cup of tea and looked at her as she tucked into her beans on toast. ‘I worry about you. You’re a young woman now. You got to be careful.’

Scarlett felt a spurt of impatience.

‘You worry about me! What about you? Look at you—you look ill. And you know why? It’s because you drink too much and don’t eat enough.’

Anger clouded Victor’s face.

‘I only drink what I need, right? And it’s not your place to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. I’m your father—you should listen to me. You watch out for yourself this evening. I know what young men are like, I was one myself once. They’ll all be after you, pretty girl like you.’

For once, Scarlett backed down. He was thinking of her, after all.

‘I’ll be all right. I’m used to fending off the boys at work. Brenda and I are just going for the dancing. I’m not looking for a boyfriend.’

Bored with the conversation, she swallowed down the last of her toast and started chivvying Victor into getting off for work.

Once he was out of the way, she could concentrate on getting herself ready. Rushing up and down to the bathroom and in and out of the two rooms of the cramped little flat, singing bits of her favourite songs and practising dance steps, she set about transforming herself from factory girl to dream dance partner. She put on powder and a new bright red lipstick, brushed her hair up into a fashionable style and pulled on new stockings, making sure to get the seams dead straight up the backs of her legs. Then came the clothes—a scoop-necked white blouse of her own that fitted her figure perfectly and a bright green circular skirt of Brenda’s with a can-can petticoat underneath. The layers of gathered net in the petticoat made the skirt stick out and swirl round her when she turned, emphasizing her small waist, which she cinched with a wide elastic belt.

She studied the finished effect, turning this way and that in an effort to see herself in the small mirror. She was amazed. How sophisticated she looked! She patted her hair, put her hands to her waist to make it even smaller, puffed out her chest. Yes, she looked the part. This was going to be fun.

By the time Brenda arrived, she could hardly contain herself. She scampered downstairs to open the door. For half a beat the two girls looked at each other, then squealed their delight and hugged.

‘You look wonderful. Really glamorous!’

‘So do you. Like a film star!’

Arm in arm, they set off for their big night out, clattering along the road in their high heels, giggling at the slightest thing.

The ballroom was amazing, with pillars holding up first floor galleries and a wonderful display of flowers round the stage. Scarlett gazed about her, taking it all in.

‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she breathed.

Now she was here, she couldn’t think why she had resisted coming all this time. The band was already playing, the crystal ball was revolving and out on the famous sprung floor, couples were dancing. All around was a buzz of excited chatter as the girls sitting round the sides watched the dancers, commented on their prowess and eyed up the young men. The young men, other than the brave ones dancing, seemed to be mostly at the bar, nursing their beers and eyeing up the girls from a safe distance.

‘I can’t wait to get dancing,’ Scarlett said, looking at the quickstepping couples with envy. Her feet went tap-tap in time with the music.

‘Got to get someone’s attention first,’ Brenda said. ‘Anyone’ll do, just to get out on the floor. Then we’ll be seen.’

She was sitting up straight with her bust shown off to its best advantage, trying to look available and casual at the same time, all the while scanning the room for talent.

‘Don’t look now, but there’s two boys coming our way,’ she hissed at Scarlett, and then, in a bright, chatty voice, ‘…and what about her over there, then? I wouldn’t wear blue and green together like that, not never nohow, I mean—oh!’ She broke off with exaggerated surprise as two young men stopped in front of them.

‘Wanna hoof it round, then?’ one of them asked.

Scarlett looked up and smiled politely. Both of them were about twenty-one, with thin faces, badly fitting suits and their hair brushed into fashionable DAs. She wasn’t very impressed but before she could say anything, Brenda had answered for both of them.

‘Don’t mind if we do.’

And off they went, shuffling round the floor to a slow foxtrot. It felt odd to be held by someone other than Jonathan.

‘I’m Ray,’ Scarlett’s partner said.

‘Scarlett.’

Ray snorted with laughter. ‘Get away! That’s a good one, that is.’

Scarlett was used to this reaction. ‘Take it or leave it,’ she told him.

‘I’ll leave it, thanks. I’ll call you Sue.’

‘I shan’t answer to it.’

They made their erratic way round the floor in a state of armed stand-off. Scarlett was disappointed. This was no more exciting than practising with Brenda. Ray obviously rated his own dancing, judging by the way he pulled her around and tutted when either of them stepped on the other’s foot, but Scarlett didn’t think much of his style. After the long walk from home, her feet were already beginning to hurt. She wasn’t sad when the music ended.

‘Hey, you’re quite a girl. Another?’ Ray asked.

Scarlett looked at him in amazement. ‘No, thanks,’ she said and stalked off back to where she and Brenda had been sitting.

‘What was yours like? Mine was quite nice,’ Brenda said.

‘Useless,’ Scarlett told her.

The next one was much better. He was called Pete and he danced with confidence.

‘I haven’t seen you here before, have I?’ he asked.

‘No, it’s my first time.’

‘I thought so. I’d’ve noticed a smasher like you. You enjoying it?’

She was now. Dancing with Pete was a pleasure.

‘Yes, it’s good. But what I’m really waiting for is the rock ’n’roll. It’s miles better than this old-fashioned stuff.’

‘Yeah, too right!’ Pete agreed. ‘This is tame, isn’t it? Can you jive?’

‘You bet!’

She and Brenda had practised for hours.

‘Oh, great. Will you jive with me? The rock ’n’ roll band should start in about half an hour.’

He seemed nice enough, so Scarlett agreed.

While the strict tempo band was playing, the general mood was calm and the dancers polite and well-behaved. But then they took a break and a small group of guitarists, a drummer and a double bass took the stand. The whole atmosphere in the ballroom changed. The young men who had been standing in the bar came flooding onto the floor, the girls who had so far been wallflowers perked up and looked hopeful, everyone fizzed with anticipation.

A young man with a guitar slung in front of him came up to the microphone.

‘Ladies and gentlemen—chicks and guys—’

A roar of delight broke from the crowd. Entranced, Scarlett watched to see what was coming next. She didn’t notice Pete approaching until he was at her side.

‘Ready to rock ’n’ roll?’ he asked.

‘Oh—yeah—you bet!’

Almost at the same moment, the young man at the mike asked the same question. ‘Are you ready to rock ’n’ roll?’

‘Yes!’ howled the crowd, whistling and cheering.

‘Then let’s go!’

Scarlett found herself whirled onto the floor with a torrent of couples as the familiar song began—

One, two, three o’clock, four o’clock, rock!

At first Scarlett tried to sing along, but almost immediately she hadn’t enough breath. She needed all the oxygen she could get for dancing. Back and forth, round and round, spinning and stepping, she danced, a whirling doll in Pete’s expert hands. The ballroom became a blur. There was only the music, the insistent rhythm and the demands of the dance until, with the last dying fall of notes, Pete gave her one final turn under his arm and clasped her to him. Laughing and gasping, Scarlett clapped and cheered with the rest of the dancers.

‘Enjoyed it?’ Pete asked.

‘Oh, yes!’

‘You’re a fabulous dancer.’

‘Thanks, so are you.’

‘Another?’

‘OK.’

The band struck up
Shake, Rattle and Roll
. Once again, Scarlett was whirled and spun. At one point Pete took both her hands as she faced him and straddled his legs. In a flash, Scarlett understood. She let her feet slide along the floor and went through Pete’s legs with her body just inches from the ground, while Pete stepped neatly over her, swung round and pulled her upright again. It was all done in seconds. Scarlett squealed in delight and Pete yelled ‘Yeah!’ and then they were turning and spinning again.