The Color of Secrets (10 page)

“Sounds perfect, don’t you think?”

“Well, yes
. . .
but do you
really
want to go dancing?” She frowned, trying to work out what was going on inside his head.

“Are you kidding?” Bill smiled broadly. “You know how I love to dance—and anyway, it’s what Jimmy would have wanted. Back home we believe in enjoying ourselves when we have a funeral. Just because there isn’t going to
be
a funeral doesn’t mean we can’t pretend
. . .
” His voice faltered and almost broke. But before Eva could say or do anything, he was on his feet, helping her out of her chair. “Come on,” he said, “let’s skip dinner and get over there!”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Eva whispered as they made their way past the shadowy recesses of shops where cigarettes glowed and hushed voices could be heard in the darkness.

“Why not?” Bill quickened his pace, almost pulling her along.

“You saw what it was like in the restaurant,” she said, catching her breath. “It’s going to be worse if people see us dancing.” She clamped her mouth shut. She had almost said: “Especially with Jimmy all over the news.”

“You worry too much,” Bill replied. “Like I said, it’s perfect: an all-black band and a black singer. What white guy’s going to have the nerve to lay a finger on me with them on the stage?”

He was right. The singer soon spotted that he was the only black man on the dance floor and called him up onstage to shake his hand. From then on it was as if a bit of Vic Brown’s stardust had rubbed off on Bill and Eva. As they jitterbugged and jived around the room, the spotlight followed them, daring any trouble to follow in its wake. There were white American soldiers in the room, but she saw them only as a blur of color as Bill spun her around. And as the light caught his face, she could see that it was transformed. For the first time since Jimmy’s arrest, he looked happy, carefree.

“Can we have a rest now?” Eva gasped as she flopped into a chair and took a gulp of shandy. “I thought I was going to end up on the ceiling during that last one!”

Bill laughed. “You’re as light as a feather, that’s why. Don’t think I ever had a partner I could lift so easily.”

Eva’s face clouded at his words and she bent over her drink to avoid his eyes.

“Hey, what did I say? It was supposed to be a compliment!”

“Oh, nothing.” She took another swallow of her drink. “Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s a slow one—I think I can just about manage that.” As they danced, she buried her head in his jacket. If she told him what was on her mind that brave smile of his would wither like a blossom after frost. Despite his best efforts not to show it, she knew he was still raw with the pain of Jimmy’s death.

She felt his hands slip down around her waist. It wouldn’t be long before he worked it out for himself. And then what?

She closed her eyes, concentrating on the music. Vic Brown had a voice like melting chocolate. He was singing about love, of course, about a love that was too hot not to cool down. The words of the song sent shards of ice through her stomach.

Chapter 11

L
ATE FEBRUARY 1944

A flurry of snow was falling on the railway line, turning the forlorn-
looking trucks a dazzling white. The women were shoveling it away where it had drifted, clearing the line for incoming trains. Cathy Garner glanced around as she paused to shake snow from her cap. Betty Pelham’s big round face had turned red with a combination of the cold and the effort of digging. Iris Stokes had taken off her gloves to examine the chilblains on her fingers. And Eva
. . .
what was Eva doing?

Eva was doubled over, clutching her stomach. Cathy dropped her spade. As she ran across the tracks, she saw that her friend’s face was as white as the snow clinging to her hair.

“Eva—what’s the matter?”

Eva gasped in answer and reached out, hands flailing.

Cathy grabbed her around the waist as her friend swayed toward her. “Come on, let’s get you inside!” She guided her over to the toolshed.

Betty Pelham was following them. “Shall I get the nurse?” she asked. “Or is she just faking it?”

“Yes, get the nurse!” Cathy hissed. “Can’t you see how pale she’s gone?”

Eva slumped back on a wooden bench, oblivious of a huge cobweb that attached itself to her hair and hung down one side of her head like a tattered veil.

“Eva, what is it? Please, tell me!”

“I
. . .
it’s nothing,” Eva whispered, taking a breath. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like nothing!” Cathy put her hand to Eva’s face. “You’re as cold as ice! Have you got any of that stuff Bill gave you?”

Eva shook her head.

“Well, you need something inside you. Did you have any breakfast?”

“I didn’t really feel like anything,” Eva mumbled.

“No wonder you look so pale, you daft thing! Fancy not eating in this weather!”

A woman in a Red Cross uniform appeared in the doorway with Betty following in her wake. “Thank you, Mrs. Pelham,” the nurse said as Betty parked herself down on a pile of sacks. “You can get back to work now.” As the door closed, she shook the snow from her cape and gave Eva a long, hard look. “Now, what seems to be the matter?” She addressed this question to Cathy. “Not idle-itis, I hope!”

“It’s all right,” Eva said, lurching from the bench. “I’m fine, really.” She took a step toward the door, but her legs crumpled. Cathy grabbed her as she collapsed onto the dusty floor.

Half an hour later Eva was lying unconscious on a couch in the stationmaster’s office. The nurse had unbuttoned the shapeless gray donkey jacket and was pressing down on Eva’s stomach. Cathy stood silently beside her, holding Eva’s hand.

“About five months gone, I’d say,” the nurse pronounced. “Married, is she?” She lifted Eva’s left arm, which hung limply from the side of the couch, examining the fingers. “Hmm,” she grunted, “I thought as much!”

“She
is
married,” Cathy said. “She doesn’t wear her ring at work because it gives her calluses.”

“Really?” The nurse raised an eyebrow. “And is the husband home or away?”

“Home,” Cathy lied. “He works at Goodyear’s.”

“Well, he’s a foolish man, letting his wife do this kind of work in her condition.” The nurse pulled down Eva’s lower eyelids, peering at the skin beneath. “Anemic too. No wonder she passed out. She needs to see a doctor.”

Eva came around suddenly, sitting bolt upright and staring at the unfamiliar surroundings.

“It’s okay,” Cathy said, squeezing her hand. “You passed out.”

“Congratulations, young lady,” the nurse said with a grim smile. “Did you realize you are expecting?”

Eva looked from Cathy to the nurse and back again, wide-eyed with alarm.

“It’s all right,” Cathy said. “I don’t suppose you’ve even told Eddie yet, have you?” She made an anguished face behind the nurse’s back. “Shall I take her to the canteen?” she said quickly. “Get her something to eat and then take her to the doctor’s?”

“Well, she definitely needs some food inside her,” the nurse muttered. “Are we strong enough to walk now?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Eva said. She slid one leg off the couch, desperate to get away.

“Let me help you.” Cathy took Eva’s arm as she stood up. “Come on: lean on me if you need to.”

When they got to the canteen, the other rail gangers were already there.

“Oh no,” Cathy said, glancing at her watch, “it’s tea break.”

“She all right?” Betty Pelham yelled over her shoulder.

“Yes, she’s fine now,” Cathy called back. “Skipped breakfast, that’s all.”

“Oh, really?” Iris Stokes piped up. “Are you sure that’s
all
it is?” She smiled slyly at the others. “I saw her dancing with a Yank at the Civic: a
colored
one!”

Cathy felt Eva’s grip tighten on her arm. “So what?” she shouted back before Eva could react. “I saw
you
with one of those Italian POWs from Moseley Farm: necking at a bus stop in broad daylight!”

All eyes shot from Eva to Iris.

“Dirty bitch!” Betty Pelham was on her feet. A gob of spittle flew across the table, landing on the sleeve of Iris’s jacket. A deafening volley of abuse followed Iris as she leapt to her feet and ran to the door.

Cathy sat Eva down at the far end of the canteen while she went to beg something more substantial than a hot mug of tea from the woman at the serving hatch.

“Here you are,” she said, returning with a slab of bread-and-butter pudding. “Now, eat up! We’re not moving until you’ve finished it.”

Cathy sat in silence as Eva ate, watching the color slowly return to her cheeks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, as Eva pushed the empty plate aside.

Eva stared silently at the table.

“Does Bill know?”

She shook her head.

“But hasn’t he
. . .
noticed
anything?”

Eva gave a short, humorless chuckle. “He thinks it’s all those Hershey bars.” She lifted her teacup, her hand shaking.

“Why have you kept it to yourself all this time? You know you can trust me. I could have helped you.”

“Helped me? How?” Eva made a small, strangled sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “Do you know when I found out? It was the night before Bill’s best friend was hanged for getting a white girl pregnant.” She shook her head. “And my mother never stops going on about how dreadful life’s going to be for Jimmy’s baby: it’d just about kill her if she knew I was in the same boat!”

“So what were you going to do?” Cathy whispered. “Did you really think you could go on hiding it for much longer?”

Eva stared blankly at the wall in front of her. “I don’t know,” she murmured, her lips moving but her face expressionless. “I wanted to tell you. But that would have made it
. . .
real.”

“But it
is
real!” Cathy gasped. “You’ve got to tell him, Eva: it’s his baby and he needs to know. He must have realized it could happen.”

“I
want
to tell him,” Eva said. “So many times I’ve nearly said something
. . .
but I’m afraid to.”

“Why? I mean, it’s not like Jimmy, is it?” Cathy dropped her voice. “Nobody’s going to try to say he raped you.”

“It’s not that,” Eva said. “Don’t you see? If I tell him I’m pregnant, I’m going to have to tell him everything. About David, about Eddie.”

“You mean you haven’t—”

“No!” Eva reached for her tea, cradling the mug in both hands. “I was going to tell him the night Jimmy was arrested. I thought I’d wait, give him time to get back on an even keel. But now there’s a baby
. . .
”

“I see,” Cathy nodded. “You’re afraid that if he finds out you’ve lied to him, he’ll leave you?”

Eva closed her eyes. “I didn’t
lie
to him: I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.”

Cathy reached across the table, laying her hand on Eva’s arm. “But the fact is he’s going to have to leave you anyway,” she said gently. “It could happen any day: you know that.”

“Of course I do, but
. . .
” she faltered.

“But what?”

“I can’t let myself believe it. I can’t imagine life without him, Cathy.”

“Do you love him? You said you were
in
love, but that’s not the same, really, is it?”

Eva buried her face in her hands. “Yes,” she mumbled, “I do.”

“And does he love you?”

A few seconds’ silence, then: “I don’t know.”

“There’s only one way to find out, then, isn’t there? Before it’s too late, I mean.”

Eva looked up, her face marked red where her fingers had pressed against it. “What are you saying?”

“Well,” Cathy replied, “if he really loves you, it won’t matter about the past, will it?” She paused, studying Eva’s face. “And if he doesn’t, then you’ve still got time to decide what to do.”

Eva got out of Anton’s car and picked her way by torchlight across the treacherous frozen slush the snow had left in its wake. She was early. And with the weather, Bill would probably be late. Making her way down the steps of the air-raid shelter, she settled down to wait on one of the wooden benches. As she did so, she felt a familiar fluttering in her belly. She caught her breath, suddenly realizing what it was, that odd sensation like the wings of a butterfly caught inside someone’s hand. That first, fragile movement had thrilled her when she was pregnant with David. Now she felt numbed by the reality of what was happening to her body.

The beam of another torch danced on the walls of the shelter, making her jump. “Hi, honey, what are you doing in here?” Bill’s voice echoed in the empty space. “I thought you’d stood me up,” he laughed, taking her in his arms and squeezing her tight. She felt as limp and lifeless as a rag doll, incapable of hugging him back.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He hung the light on the hook on the wall so that he could see her face. “What is it?” he repeated. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“Bill, I
. . .
” she faltered. “There’s
. . .
something I’ve got to tell you.”

He blew out a breath. “I had a feeling this was coming.”

His words threw her. The carefully rehearsed speech went out of her head.

Bill raised his hands to her shoulders, holding her there as he searched her face. “You’re going to have a baby, right?”

Eva blinked. “How did you know?”

“Honey, I’m not blind!” He sighed, pulling her to him. “Don’t you think I’ve noticed how you’ve changed the past few weeks?”

“But I thought that you thought
. . .
”

“The candy?” He grunted. “That was just my way of passing it off, I guess. Pretending it wasn’t real.” He reached across and put his hand on her stomach. His face was a mixture of fear and fascination. “Sweet Jesus, what do we do now?”

Eva closed her eyes, panic rising like bile. “You don’t understand. There’s
. . .
something else.” She felt for his hand, clutching it tightly in both of hers. “It’s something I should have told you a long time ago.” She opened her eyes and looked straight into his. “I already have a child, Bill.” Her mouth trembled as she spoke. “A little boy. His name’s David and he’s two years old.”

Bill blinked at her, the skin between his eyebrows furrowing as her words sunk in.

“And I’m
. . .
” she swallowed hard. “I’m married, sort of.”

“What?” He whipped his hand from her grip. “What the hell does that mean? You’re either married or you ain’t!”

“No, you don’t understand,” she gasped, running after him as he paced the floor. “Eddie—my husband—his boat was torpedoed off Singapore
. . .
”

He stopped dead as he reached the door, his back to her. “Is he alive?” The brick-lined walls threw back a menacing echo.

“No! I
. . .
I don’t know. He
. . .
he’s missing.” She put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off.

“Missing?” he shouted, his voice bouncing back at her from all directions. “Missing?” He backed away from her, his eyes full of loathing. “You
lied
to me! All that crap about your mother not approving of a black boyfriend! Just a bunch of goddamn lies!” He spat out a curse and ran from her, up the steps and out into the cold white night.