Authors: Doris Davidson
His aunt’s eyes semaphoring an urgent signal to him, Neil realised, in horror, what she had meant. Oh, damn! How could he get out of this? He couldn’t! ‘How would you like to
come to the pictures with me one night, Olive?’ He hoped that he sounded more enthusiastic than he felt.
‘I’d love to, if you don’t mind taking me.’
Yes, he minded. He would rather take a boa constrictor to bed with him than be a whole evening alone with this beastly girl, but they’d all be offended if he said so. ‘I’m
looking forward to it. I should have thought of it before.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘When?’
‘Tomorrow?’ It wouldn’t do to put it off; it would look as if he didn’t want to. As if? That was a real laugh. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better go home, or
Mum’ll think I’m lost.’
The girls were in bed by the time Neil got in, and when he told his parents how Hetty had press-ganged him, Joe joked, ‘An evening out with your favourite cousin? Just what you’re
needing, isn’t it?’
‘Like a hole in the head,’ Neil muttered darkly.
‘Well, it’s done now.’ Gracie was dubious about the wisdom of it, but tried to comfort her son. ‘Olive’s not as bad as she used to be, she was hurt at Alf, so be
nice to her.’
Neil shrugged, but didn’t promise anything. If she played fair, he would force himself to be nice, but if she tried to start anything, he would walk out on her. He had thought, in his
innocence, that he’d got rid of her but he was lumbered with her worse than ever by the look of things. To be fair though, it was her mother’s fault, not hers. At their door, Hetty had
whispered, ‘She hasn’t got over Alf, and maybe you could take her out once or twice every time you’re home . . . just till she finds another boy?’
That was what bothered him. Would Olive look for another boy if she thought she had him? Had all the plotting he and Alf done been a complete waste of time?
Olive lay down in bed, hardly able to believe how things had worked out. She had intended to start writing to Neil again after he went back, to try to make him realise that Alf had been only a
passing fancy and that she still loved him, then her mother had actually arranged a date for them. She’d have to be careful not to antagonise him by being pushy. A spot of reluctance might
spur him on to take the initiative.
In the Palace Cinema, Neil was very conscious of his cousin sitting beside him. She had grown up, and she wasn’t such a bad sort, after all. Why shouldn’t he treat
her like all the other girls he’d been out with? Lifting his arm, he let it come down gently on her shoulders. Her coat was lying across her knees, and he could feel the warmth of her skin
through her blouse. If he wasn’t careful, he’d . . . oh, damn! Too late! He removed his arm and crossed his legs to hide his arousal, but his eyes had found a target that drew them in
spite of himself. As Alf had said once, her tits were huge, and he was practically sure that she was wearing nothing under her blouse. Had she purposely left off her brassiere?
He tried hard to keep his mind on the film. This was Olive, the brat, the pest. She was no filly for playing around with. If he laid a finger on her, he might as well say goodbye to
bachelorhood, and he wouldn’t do that for anything less than undying love. His desire died down, but he kept his eyes resolutely turned away from her. She gave no sign that she wanted him to
put his arm round her again, so maybe he’d been wrong about her not wearing a brassiere . . . maybe he was just too randy for his own good?
Olive did most of the talking while he walked her home, chattering on without seeming to notice that it was a one-sided conversation and when they arrived at her house, she turned to him with a
smile. ‘Thanks, Neil, I’ve had a lovely evening. The main feature was great, and the B film wasn’t too bad either.’
‘It was a good show.’ The words were forced out of him. He couldn’t get over the fact that Olive, of all people, should make him feel like this and it was nothing she’d
done. ‘How about showing me how much you enjoyed it?’ he mumbled.
‘What do you mean?’ She looked up at him innocently.
‘The girls I take out usually let me kiss them goodnight.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, kiss me if you want to.’
It was anything but encouraging, but he pulled her towards him feeling her tensing at first then melting against him. In a second, however, she drew away. ‘No, Neil,
don’t.’
Dropping his arms, he said, ‘Will you come dancing with me on Tuesday?’ The minute he said it, he wished he hadn’t but luckily she said, ‘Thanks just the same, but
I’ve lost too much studying time already. Maybe next time you’re home?’
Left standing on the doorstep, Neil turned away abruptly. He had got Olive all wrong. If she had ever cared for him in the way she had once written, she didn’t now, which pricked his ego
rather badly though he felt no affection for her. The only things that appealed to him were the rounded rear end and the swinging breasts that cried out to be squeezed and fondled. It could have
been gratifying to have initiated her in the pleasures of sex – he had a feeling that she’d be a real good lay – but she was taboo.
On his way up the tenement stairs, Neil was struck by an appealing idea. His mother hadn’t objected to him going to the pictures with Olive – she hadn’t been too happy, but she
hadn’t objected – so she surely wouldn’t say anything if he asked his other cousin out – it was worth a try. Queenie, of course, was a different kettle of fish from Olive,
and he’d have to go easy. Knowing his own weakness, he wouldn’t even kiss her . . . one kiss from that sweet mouth and he’d be lost, throwing caution to the winds. The only reason
he’d stopped with Olive was fear that she might wind her tentacles round him again, otherwise he wouldn’t have thought twice about forcing her, but Queenie was too young and innocent to
muck around with. He respected her as much as he loved her.
Late the next evening, Joe gave a groan. ‘Oh, damn! I’m near sure I forgot to switch off the slicer. Well, I’ll not sleep if I don’t go and
check.’
Gracie rose too, ‘I’ll come with you. I need a breath of fresh air, I haven’t been over the door the whole day.’
When they went out, Neil turned with a smile to Queenie. ‘Would you like to come dancing with me tomorrow night?’ He had thought about it all day, but hadn’t liked ask in front
of his mother and this opportunity was too good to miss.
‘Oh yes, thanks, Neil!’
He was pleased by her eager acceptance until it occurred to him that Olive might not be happy about it. She would be jealous more than likely and it was unwise to give her any cause to be angry.
When his parents came back, he told them what he had done, half hoping that his mother would forbid Queenie to go, but she just shot a troubled glance at Joe who shrugged as if to say,
‘Don’t involve me.’
The girls went to bed first, Neil following them about ten minutes later, and Gracie said, ‘I’d have felt better about it if he’d asked Patsy to go with them. I just hope
he’s not attracted to Queenie.’
Joe shook his head, ‘He’s needing company, that’s all, and it’ll do the lassie good to go out with a laddie again.’
‘But what if she thinks he’s serious about her? It’s not a good idea, Joe, she’s his cousin too.’
‘Ach, you. You’ve got some right funny notions. Queenie’s a sensible lassie, she’ll know he’s just being friendly.’
‘Olive’s not going to be pleased about this.’ Gracie felt angry at her son for stirring up a hornet’s nest. ‘Mind you, I don’t like him taking Olive out
either, not after the way she used to carry on over him, and it’s not as if he cares tuppence for her. There’s going to be trouble there.’
Joe yawned, ‘Never! They’re all just youngsters, for God’s sake. I wish you’d stop worrying about things that’ll never happen. Give Neil credit for having something
between his lugs. He just wants company and you should be pleased he’s not picking up some whore off the streets.’
‘Joe!’
Neil felt quite protective towards Queenie. She was so young and so inexperienced that he didn’t dare to give her a clue as to how he felt, but as well as having a figure
that most girls would envy, she was so beautiful it took his breath away. Her silky fair-gold hair curled round her neck, her startlingly bright blue eyes made his heart turn over every time she
looked up at him and he longed to run his fingers over her velvety cheeks. He was certain that all the other men were wishing they were in his shoes.
Unconsciously, he tightened his hold on her and when she looked up at him, questioningly, he nuzzled his chin against her brow and murmured, ‘You’ve turned into a real beauty, do you
know that? I wish . . .’ Common sense made him stop.
‘What d’you wish, Neil?’
‘Oh, I just wish the war was over, and I could be at home all the time.’ It wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind but he couldn’t go too fast.
‘I was supposed to be going home after the war,’ she said, softly, ‘but now . . .’ Her eyes filled with moisture.
He cursed his insensitivity. ‘I’m glad you won’t be going away. I mean . . . I’m sorry you’ve nobody left in South Norwood to go home to, but if you were there
I’d never see you.’
Their positions were reversed. He was so confused that she felt protective towards him with the emotions of a mature woman. She wanted to pull his head down, to tell him with a kiss that she too
was glad that she would be here for him when he came home, but it was so disloyal to the memory of her parents that she felt ashamed. ‘Can we please change the subject, Neil?’
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything like that. What do you think of this band?’ At the final, resounding chord, he swung her round several times before leading her
off the floor. ‘I love dancing. I went to all the hops with Alf when we were in Wiltshire.’
‘Did Alf still go to the dances with you after he started seeing Olive?’
‘I don’t think Alf was ever really serious about her,’ he said, cautiously. ‘I think that was all in her mind.’
‘Hetty says she still hasn’t got over him.’
‘I know. That’s why I took her out.’
This was a surprise to Queenie as Gracie had kept silent about it and she was thankful that she hadn’t told Neil how she felt about him. She was just another cousin with whom he had to do
his duty, that was all. Stifling her hurt, she put on a brave show of enjoyment for the rest of the evening.
They walked home to King Street almost in silence but as they entered the communal lobby, Queenie said, ‘Is anything wrong, Neil? You’ve hardly spoken since we left the
Palais.’
Halting, he put his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘I say too much sometimes Queenie, and do too much.’
‘I won’t be angry, whatever you say or do.’
In the soft moonlight filtering through the transom window above the street door, her eyes were luminous and pleading, melting his resolve not to put a step wrong. ‘You’d hate me if
I did what I want to do.’ But his lips could not resist hers and his hands slid down meeting in the small of her back to draw her against him, until he was forced to break away. Holding her
hand resolutely, he dragged her upstairs.
Patsy had been in bed for some time, but she was waiting to hear how the evening had gone and Queenie happily obliged while she was undressing. ‘It was perfect. I’ve never gone
dancing before but Neil showed me how to do the steps. The slow foxtrot and the quickstep were more difficult than the waltz, but the Palais Glide was easy.’ Stepping out of her knickers, she
pulled on the trousers of her pyjamas. ‘I’d a marvellous time and Neil’s ever such a good dancer.’
Patsy sighed, ‘I wouldn’t have minded going with you but he didn’t ask me and, anyway, three’s a crowd.’
Fastening the buttons of her jacket, Queenie flopped into the double bed. ‘D’you think he’ll ask me again? He said he went out with Olive . . .’
‘I didn’t know that, but I can tell you she’s going to be sick with jealousy about you.’
The vivacity vanished from Queenie’s face. ‘She did tell me once to keep away from him, but I thought she . . . she went out with Alf . . . does Neil like her, too?’
‘Like her? He hates the sight of her.’
A ray of hope appeared in Queenie’s face ‘If he doesn’t like her, maybe he won’t take her out again. I think he does like me, and I know I like him. If he . . . wanted me
to be his girlfriend, I wouldn’t refuse.’
Two days later, Neil bumped into Olive on Union Street and knocked her off her feet. He did his best not to show his displeasure when she stood up . . . an offended Olive was
far worse than a normal Olive. ‘I’m glad I met you,’ she said, ‘I was wanting to talk to you.’
The tone of her voice warned him that she was about to say something unpleasant but he smiled, ‘Fire ahead then.’
‘Does your offer still hold?’
‘What offer?’
‘You asked me out again and I refused, but I’ve changed my mind. Aren’t we girls awful?’
It was more than awful, Neil reflected, it was disastrous, but what could he say? ‘Well, I go back tomorrow so there’s only tonight left.’
‘Can we go dancing? At Miss Oliver’s, we were taught all the dance steps, tap, ballet and ballroom, so I wouldn’t be a disgrace to you.’
Now he understood. She must have found out that he’d gone to the Palais with Queenie. His mother had likely told Hetty this morning on the phone. ‘OK, if that’s what you
want.’
He arranged to meet her at half past seven, and went home seething with anger which he couldn’t vent on anyone. It was his own fault. He should never have suggested another date.
His ill humour lifted as soon as they went into the dance hall. Even Olive was better than no partner.
It was their third dance when she said coyly, ‘Is Queenie a better dancer than I am?’
He might have known that she couldn’t let it pass without some comment, but he wouldn’t let her know that Queenie had been an absolute beginner. ‘Much the same.’ But it
hadn’t been the same, he thought. He hadn’t minded when Queenie’s small, firm breasts pressed against him but he was repelled by Olive’s large bosom now, though he had been
aroused by it before. Her hair was coarser than Queenie’s, her eyes were a lighter blue and not so soft; yet the admiring glances she was getting from other men proved that she was
attractive. She wasn’t his cup of tea, that’s what it was.