Unforgettable (13 page)

* * *

Dolly wasn't a brilliant letter-writer, but it was so long since they had communicated now, that Gracie knew she must have taken the huff at not hearing from her for weeks. The summer was turning into a lovely autumn, and it was already early September
when Gracie wrote to her. The more she thought about it, the more she knew it would be impossible to speak on the telephone without breaking down. She couldn't bear that, but she did long for some contact with her old friend, so a letter was the only way to tell her what had been happening.

If they did speak, at a time when she was still feeling so vulnerable, she knew Dolly would be all genuine sympathy one minute, then overcome with embarrassment, and then begin to cover what she considered soppiness by telling of her own doings about herself and coalman Jim, and finally insisting that Gracie should come back to the Smoke right away and put it all behind her. Gracie could imagine it all so clearly. So it definitely had to be a letter.

She wrote the news about her parents briefly, saying she would need to stay in Southampton for the time being to sort things out, and she would think about her future when she had got her breath back from all the sorrow of the past weeks. The words sounded stark and almost callous, but she knew it was better than to reveal all the emotional upheaval she had gone through. Dolly wasn't good with emotional upheavals, any more than she was good with illness, but once she had got the news out of the way,
Gracie knew she was just what she needed to pull her out of her depression.

‘
So that's why I haven't written before now, Dolly
,' she finished. ‘
Please write and tell me everything that's going on. I miss you a lot, but I've got plenty of work down here, enough to let me pay the rent on the house, anyway
'

She ended the letter quickly, because it sounded as though she was living in luxury, having a house to herself, when in reality, it was little more than the backwater Dolly had always thought it was. The town was splendid in parts but not here. Not in the dockworkers' shabby back-to-backs where the walls were so thin that nothing was private from the neighbours. Without her mother there to make it a home, Gracie was seeing it as it really was, and it was only out of stubborn loyalty to her memory that she stayed.

There was also the useful bit of money she was making from her sewing, although it didn't really come to much, and there had only been one good commission with the children's frocks. When winter came and she had to buy coal for the fire, people might not have so much work available for a London Outworker, and things might look even less rosy.

Gracie shivered, wondering if she was
being foolish in staying. Queenie had made it clear she didn't want her to, and now that the life insurance money had been paid, it would surely be right to move on.

But where would she go? Back to Lawson's Shirt Factory? She didn't think so. Back to Mrs Warburton's boarding-house? Much as she enjoyed Dolly's company and didn't want to lose her friendship, it all seemed like a backward step.

She wasn't sure she could face the sympathy of the other lodgers, either. If she went back to London, she would have to find other digs, and other work. And before she committed herself, the best way to do that would be to go and take a look around. In her heart, she knew it was not so much a matter of if, but when.

She got a letter back from Dolly shortly afterwards. It was what she had expected, cautious at first, saying how sorry she was about her mum, then saying she was no good at the soppy stuff, but just to cheer Gracie up, she hoped, she told her that she and Jim had been to have another look at the Empire Exhibition.

‘
Honestly, Gracie, you ought to see it before it closes at the end of October. If you must stay in the back of beyond, there's nothing to stop you coming up to London for
a day out. I daresay old Warby would put you up for a night and we could have a good old gossip. Not that I'd be telling you all the saucy bits about me and Jim, mind
.'

Here it was, Gracie thought resignedly, glossing over the rest of the letter and her enthusiasm about her coalman. As for Dolly telling her all in the darkness of their old shared bedroom … she wouldn't want to hear it, and she didn't want to imagine it. The memory of those black fingernails at the Palais was enough to make her shudder. As was the memory of other fingers caressing the golden shaft of a saxophone … except that in that case, it was a different kind of shudder.

But at last she telephoned Dolly. One reason was the growing idea in her mind about looking for somewhere new to live; and a second was curiosity about this Empire Exhibition in the park that Dolly thought was so wonderful.

Once the operator had put her through, she had to listen to Mrs Warburton's gushing sympathy over her mother. Predictably, Dolly had informed everybody at the boarding-house. But eventually Dolly's chirpy voice came through.

‘Blimey, gel, you sound quite posh,' she said with a chuckle. ‘Must be from meeting all them toffs you're working for. So when are
you coming back?'

‘Not yet, but I might come up on Saturday for the day to see this exhibition. Do you think Mrs Warburton would let me stay in your room overnight?'

‘'Course she will,' Dolly yelled in delight. ‘You just get here as early as you can on Saturday. It's time you started enjoying yourself again, gel.'

As the train steamed and snorted into Waterloo station, it felt weird to be enveloped in the hustle and bustle of the crowds, the guards blowing their whistles, the flower-sellers offering their sweet-smelling blooms nearby. As soon as Gracie left the station, she breathed in the familiar smells of the city, a world away from the dockland area of Southampton. For a moment her head rocked with the noise of the traffic and the congestion of trams and taxi-cabs and horse-drawn drays fighting their way through the streets. It was weird …

But to her surprise, she acknowledged that it felt more like home than Southampton. Hearing the cockney accents; the street costers bellowing out their wares; the newspaper boys yelling out the headlines; the warmth of it had nothing to do with the balmy September air, but more to do with the revival of her spirits at getting away from so much sadness that had haunted her recently.

She caught the first available tram that went near Mrs Warburton's, and walked the rest of the way briskly. The trains didn't run
on Sundays, so she intended to ask if she could stay an extra night. Then, when Dolly had gone to work on Monday morning, she would take a proper look around. If Dolly had any idea of her plans, she would press her to move in with her again, and Gracie knew it was time to strike out on her own. Real independence wasn't sharing a room in someone else's boarding-house. Besides, there was another little idea simmering in her head. An idea that made her nerve-ends prickle with anticipation.

But first, she had to endure Mrs Warburton's voluble commiserations over her sad losses, as she called them. It was a relief when she and Dolly could retreat to their old room, flop down on their beds and take stock of one another.

‘You don't look too bad,' Dolly said at last, after the initial awkwardness of getting to know one another again.

‘Did you expect me to have grown two heads?'

‘'Course not, but you know what I mean. It must have hit you hard to lose both of 'em in so short a time.'

‘You have to get on with it, don't you? You can't spend your whole life crying over things that can't be changed.' She swallowed hard, then looked sharply at Dolly, lying on her bed
with her hands clasped behind her head now and staring at the dark spots on the ceiling.

‘Anyway, I may not look too bad, but I can't say the same about you. What's up? You and Jim haven't had a falling-out, have you?'

‘Nah. We have our ups and downs, but we're all right.'

‘Well then?' Gracie demanded.

‘Well nothing,' Dolly said crossly. ‘What's this? Twenty questions?'

‘I've hardly asked any so far, but if you don't want to tell me—'

‘There ain't nothing to tell.' She swung her legs off the bed. ‘Are you going to unpack, or are we going out? You're here to enjoy yourself, ain't you?'

Something was definitely wrong, or at least, not quite right, thought Gracie. Dolly was always bursting to tell her every last detail of what went on between her and her latest beau, usually far more than she wanted to hear. The last thing she had wanted to know about was her courtship with coalman Jim and his black fingernails … she might not want to hear it, but it was very unlike Dolly to keep it private.

‘I'll unpack my stuff later. I haven't brought much anyway,' she said quickly, not wanting to antagonize her from the off.

‘I hope you've brought your glad rags for tonight then.'

‘What's happening tonight?' Gracie said, with a horrible premonition.

‘Jim's got tickets for a nightclub up West and Billy's coming too, so get rid of that long face. You've been out in the sticks for so long you've probably forgotten how to dance, but me and Jim make a cracking show at the Charleston now and you'll be all right, providing Billy don't fall all over your feet.'

Gracie groaned. She didn't want this. Hadn't anticipated it. There had hardly been the time or the inclination for dancing except for a village dance with Davey Watkins … and the only important time she had got properly dressed up to go dancing, she had met Charlie Morrison at the Palais …

‘I can't go anywhere like that. I haven't brought anything fancy, Dolly—'

‘Don't matter. You can borrow something of mine.
Now
, are we going to this bleedin' exhibition, or aren't we!'

* * *

They caught the Metropolitan railway extension to the station at Wembley Park, and Gracie was thankful Dolly hadn't suggested
meeting Jim and Billy already. They would face that hurdle later. The exhibition itself was enough to take in, with its vast pavilions lavishly bedecked with flags, the interiors displaying features from all parts of the Empire.

‘You'll like the Chinese street, and the Ceylon pavilion with the collection of pearl necklaces. It's enough to make your eyes pop out, Gracie,' Dolly announced. ‘They've made a copy of old Tutenkhamen's tomb as well, and it's really creepy. Come
on
—what are you hanging about for?' she said, as they were swept along by the crowds flocking out of the station towards the entrance now.

‘I thought I saw somebody I knew,' Gracie said, floundering.

But of course, it couldn't be him. Wouldn't be him. Why, out of all the world, would a tall young man with black, slicked-back hair, and sensitive fingers that caressed a saxophone that made music to tease the senses, appear as if conjured up by magic?

She shook her head. There were dozens of young men with black, slicked-back hair. It was the fashion, and she was being totally stupid to think that in coming back to London, she would find him again. She hadn't consciously thought it, but she knew that in her dreams, she certainly had.

She ignored such futile hopes and threw herself into enjoying the magic of the day instead. Walking around the massive site was hard on the feet, but before they gave up on the pavilions and went out to the amusement park, they visited the doll's house that had been presented to Queen Mary.

‘Blimey, if you believe all it says in the leaflet, the cost of this would have built a whole townful of ordinary houses,' Dolly complained, by the time they had examined every room in the ornate little building. Leading architects and craftsmen had made every detail correct; each room was expensively furnished, and the four bathrooms included running water from the taps and flushing toilets.

‘Flushing toilets for a plaything!' Gracie exclaimed. ‘There's many a real place that doesn't have those, nor proper bathrooms. And the books in the library were written by famous authors! You'd think they had better things to do.'

She was quite depressed by the opulence of it all, and by the exhibition in general. Everyone knew it was one life for the rich and another for the poor, but this only emphasized it. And for two girls who scratched for a living, they were more than thankful to get away from it and take a breather in the
beautiful gardens and then go on to the amusement park.

‘Jim and Billy are meeting us here,' Dolly said as they sprawled out on the grass. ‘He's taking me for a few trips on the caterpillar. You'll like it, Gracie, providing it don't rattle your brains out.'

‘I'll stick to the sideshows, thanks very much,' Gracie replied, cross at being made part of a foursome that was destined to last all day and all evening too.

She was watching the band assembling on a rostrum nearby. She knew it wasn't
his
band, but just seeing a band was enough to make her heart turn over at hearing the brass instruments start up.

‘Hello babe!' she heard a voice say, and the next minute Jim was giving Dolly a bear hug and Billy was shuffling awkwardly.

‘We thought you was never coming,' Dolly said. ‘We're just taking a breather before we go on the rides.'

Jim grinned. ‘She's a rum one for the caterpillar,' he said to Gracie by way of acknowledging that she was there. ‘It's a wonder her guts ain't turned inside out, the number of times she goes on it.'

Dolly laughed hysterically as if he'd made a corker of a joke, but after they had been walking around for so long, Gracie was too
tired to see the funny side of anything.

‘Sorry about your mum and dad,' Billy said, sitting down heavily on the grass beside her. ‘Must have been ‘orrible, both of 'em going like that, ‘specially the way your dad went.'

‘Yeah,' Jim said in a noisy aside to Dolly. ‘Pity 'e couldn't swim!'