Beauty Chorus, The (42 page)

46

‘How can you be sure it was him?’ Stella asked Evie as they washed up the tea things a few days later. ‘Apparently they have Churchill lookalikes all over the
place to keep Jerry guessing.’ She piled the last plate on the drainer. ‘Even that chap Norman keeps going off to do voice-overs for Churchill.’

‘That’s what I said to one of the Americans. I suppose he’s like Father Christmas – he can’t be everywhere, but it certainly looked like him.’

‘It is good to see you. We’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had a chance to catch up with you.’

‘Are you going out with Michael tonight?’

‘Yes, just to the cinema.’

‘Again?’ Evie nudged her. ‘I am glad you two have made up.’

Stella smiled. ‘We’re just taking it one step at a time as friends, for now.’ She glanced at Evie. ‘You know, we must decide what we’re going to do for your
birthday – that’s coming up soon isn’t it?’

‘It
is
my birthday, today,’ Evie said quietly.

‘No? Why didn’t you tell me?’

Evie shrugged. ‘I know it’s my twenty-first, but I didn’t feel like there was much to celebrate this year.’

‘Well, happy birthday. We must do something to celebrate the next leave day we have off together. Have you heard from Beau?’

Evie shook her head. ‘Peter sent a card.’ She couldn’t hide her disappointment. ‘Beau promised he’d come and see me, but I haven’t heard anything from him for
weeks. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth. I haven’t even been able to find out if he made it back to Tangmere safely. No one will tell me a thing.’

‘People are disappearing all over the place. Have you noticed Jim Mollison hasn’t been around for a while? I heard in the mess today he’s piloting some hush-hush new plane
overseas.’

‘Is that what he’s doing? I did wonder.’

Stella tossed aside the tea towel. ‘Listen, why don’t you come to the cinema? You can’t sit around here by yourself on your birthday.’

‘You don’t need a gooseberry. Go and have fun.’ Evie yawned. ‘All I want is an early night.’

Evie hummed a Gershwin tune to herself, bumping the cupboard door closed with her hip. ‘They can’t take that away from me …’ the record sang on. She
had a turban wound around her hair, and a blue face pack on that clashed violently with her red silk kimono. ‘Nice to have the house to ourselves for a while, eh, cat?’ She whisked
Stalin into her arms as she danced around the kitchen. He yowled at her, and she plonked him down. ‘Now …’ She scanned the kitchen cupboard, thinking longingly of ice cream and
chocolate. ‘Pickled cucumbers?’ She dusted off the jar and unscrewed the lid, took a doubtful sniff. Her stomach growled with hunger. ‘Oh well, that will have to do,’ she
said to him. ‘I just don’t feel like cooking a thing tonight.’

Something scurried across the kitchen floor, and Evie jumped. ‘Not you again.’ She got down on her hands and knees and looked under the table. A small brown mouse stared back at her,
its dark eyes gleaming. ‘Stalin,’ she called, and looked over. The cat slinked away to his favourite armchair by the fire and jumped up. He stuck his back leg in the air like a hambone
and leisurely started to lick himself. ‘Thanks for nothing.’ Evie rolled up her sleeves and fetched a pail from the laundry and a sheet of card from the salvage bags by the back door.
‘If I can handle Jerry, I can handle you, matey,’ she said as she gingerly crept towards the mouse. She popped the bucket over the top and slid the card underneath, holding the whole
thing at arm’s length.

Evie hooked open the back door and put the trap on the ground in the middle of the garden. The grass was already cold and frosty, and her breath hung in a heavy cloud. She kicked the bucket over
and jumped back. The mouse looked at her for a moment. ‘Go on then.’ She shooed it away, and it scampered off into the night. She looked up at the dark sky.
No fireworks this
year
, she thought, and hugged herself.

Evie slammed the kitchen door and bolted it. ‘Good-for-nothing cat,’ she said affectionately as she turned up the record player so she could hear it in the bath.

Outside, the wind lashed the cottage. Draughts rattled the bathroom door on the latch. Evie slipped out of her kimono and into the steaming bubble bath, exhaling with pleasure. The candlelight
flickered and she closed her eyes, her body relaxing in the warm water. She’d had a near miss with another Spitfire today. It had seemed like a good idea to try flying upside down again, but
then she had found she couldn’t right the thing until the last ragged moment.

Twenty-one
, she thought. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine another time when there would have been a glorious party, a night of friends and laughter, the attention of handsome
suitors. She thought back to the last summer before the war, the endless parties and beautiful weather. It had felt like it would all go on forever. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Still, I had
my chance. Daddy did offer to throw a party tonight in spite of everything. Perhaps it was unkind of me to ignore his note, but I can’t bear the thought of being in the same room as Virginia
any more.

A bump in the kitchen made her jump, and she sat up in the bath, senses alert. ‘Must be Stalin,’ she said to herself. The wind shook the window, the low branches of the tree
scratching against the glass. She settled back in the water, soaking up to her chin. As the record played on, Evie didn’t hear the front door handle turn. She didn’t see the candles
gutter as a dark figure walked by, or hear the soft tread of footsteps on the creaking floorboards. It wasn’t until the bathroom door slowly opened that she sensed she wasn’t alone in
the house.

Evie screamed as a hand crept across the doorjamb. She leapt forward and slammed the door down hard.

‘Ow! Jesus!’ a male voice said. ‘Evie is that you?’

‘Beau?’ Her hand flew to her face, stuck in the blue goo she had spread all over it. ‘Just a minute!’ She quickly sank underwater and washed her face clean, then jumped
out and wrapped a white towel around herself. She pulled open the door to find Beau nursing his hand.

‘I thought you might have been pleased to see me …’

‘I don’t like surprises.’ She took his hand. ‘Does that hurt?’

‘Ow! Yes it does,’ he said, flinching as she examined it.

‘You should knock first when someone’s in the bath.’

He pulled her towards him, kissed her lips, still warm and fresh from the bath. ‘I bumped into Stella in town as I was getting you some flowers. She said you were home alone.’

‘You remembered?’ Evie broke into a broad smile.

‘Of course. November 5th.’ He leant down, handed her a bouquet of scented white lilies and roses. ‘I remember when I saw it on your application form I knew you’d be
trouble.’ He kissed her again, his hand at the base of her spine.

‘As you can see, no party, no fireworks.’

‘I’m not much in the mood for a party, but I thought you might like some company. Let’s see what we can do about the fireworks.’

Evie turned away from him, placed the flowers in the basin. The rich, powdery incense-like perfume of the lilies was intoxicating. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she dropped her towel
and said ‘Come on then …’

Beau kicked off his boots as he pulled his sheepskin flying jacket off. His eyes were fixed on hers as Evie sank into the warm water. ‘How long have you been back?’ she asked.

‘I came down yesterday,’ he said as he slipped out of his clothes.

‘And you’ve only just come to see me?’ Her eyes flickered over his body as he sank into the bath, facing her.

‘I’ve been busy.’ His hands ran along her smooth legs under the water.

‘Too busy to see me? Where have you been?’

‘Here and there.’

She splashed him. ‘Beau, I’ve been worried about you. I took a plane down to Tangmere the other day and they said you were late back.’

‘Did you see Ace? He’s turned into a marvellous dog, best I’ve ever had.’

‘Don’t change the subject.’

‘I’m flying out of Tangmere regularly, that’s all I can tell you.’

‘With Douglas Bader’s lot?’

‘It’s not the same down there since he’s gone.’

‘But are you—’

Beau silenced her with a kiss. He saw the jar of pickles beside the bath. ‘Late-night snack?’ he laughed. ‘I would have thought you had more sophisticated tastes. Is there
something you need to tell me?’ His hand moved to the gentle swell of her stomach.

‘It would have to be an immaculate conception if that’s what you’re getting at.’

‘Oh good, I thought you might have become bored waiting for me.’

‘Bored?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘With you, never.’

He pulled her towards him, her legs encircling his waist. ‘I missed you,’ he said as Evie wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Why do we always seem to end up in water when we
spend most of our life in the air?’

They learnt one another’s bodies by heart that night. As the hands of the clock on her bedside table ticked away the precious hours, and the fire in the hearth burnt low,
they lost themselves in one another.

‘I love you,’ he said, staring deep into her eyes. ‘I love you, my darling, my Eve.’

Evie sighed, arcing her spine as she pulled him closer, deeper. ‘Beau!’ she cried out at the sudden pain, digging her nails into his flesh. He buried his head next to hers, his
breath against her cheek.

‘There,’ he whispered, moving gently, waiting for her.

Lights danced as Evie closed her eyes, the pain washed away by the pleasure that was radiating into every nerve, every cell of her body.

‘Look at me,’ he murmured as she called his name. He kissed her temple as she caught her breath.

‘Oh God, I didn’t know it could be like that,’ Evie said, laughing with the sheer joy and newness of loving him. She reached up to him, ran her hand through his golden
hair.

‘I told you Spitfires are good but not that good.’ He laughed softly as they began to move again. ‘We’re not done yet.’

Evie rolled him over, straddled his hips, rocking rhythmically. She fell forward, her lips close to his ear. ‘I love you,’ she murmured as she felt his body tense, his hands on her
hips holding her fast to him. ‘I want you.’ Her fingers contracted, clenched the white sheet in her hand as he cried out her name.

Evie lay sated in his arms, listening to his thundering heartbeat slow, then pulse steadily. ‘Have you had many lovers?’ she asked.

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘Well, you’re very … I never …’

Beau laughed, and kissed the top of her head. ‘Thank you. You’re wonderful. It’s never felt like this for me either.’

‘Really?’ She looked up into his eyes.

‘Really.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘How about you?’

‘Lovers?’ She shook her head. ‘No. There was Jack, and one other chap – a summer romance, it was nothing really. But I never wanted to do “it” just to get it
out of the way. You know how some girls do go on so about their virginity.’ She stretched her arm across his chest and sighed happily.

‘I’m glad. I can’t tell you what it means that …’

‘You’re the first?’

‘Yes.’ He kissed her tenderly. ‘Are you thirsty? I brought some champagne with me.’

‘Champagne?’

‘It is your birthday.’

‘I’ll go and get some glasses.’ Evie slipped out of bed and pulled over her kimono. She leant down to smell the lilies on the bedside table, and Beau traced her spine with his
index finger, kissed the indentations at its base.

‘Don’t be long,’ he said, as he pulled the bottle of Moët from his flight bag. Glancing into the bag as she passed, Evie spotted the corner of a pink envelope; the looping
pale blue handwriting was unmistakably a woman’s.

She ran downstairs, the floor cold beneath her bare feet. The letter troubled her.
Don’t be a ninny
, she told herself.
It could be his sister.
Just as she was returning from
the kitchen, Stella let herself in at the front door.

‘Hello, darling,’ she said. ‘Did you have a miserable night?’ She glanced down at the two glasses in Evie’s hand. ‘Or perhaps not?’

Evie hugged her. ‘He’s here.’

‘I’m so happy for you.’

‘Did you have a nice time?’

‘Yes. Dropped home with a chaste kiss on the cheek, unfortunately, unlike you.’ Stella smiled. ‘Go on, you’ll catch your death running around this place in your birthday
suit. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, you won’t know I’m here.’

‘Is that Stella?’ Beau asked as Evie slipped back into bed.

‘Yes, she’s home safely.’

He eased the cork out with a muffled pop, and Evie handed him the glasses.

‘Happy birthday, Miss Chase,’ he toasted her.

‘I told you not to call me that.’

Beau kissed her, cold champagne flowing from his hot mouth to hers. ‘Eve,’ he said.

‘I’m not sure I’m ready to be called Eve.’

‘Yes you are. Evie is a girl’s name. Look at you,’ he rolled on to his side, ran his hand over the smooth curve of her waist. ‘You’re beautiful. Eve herself
couldn’t have been more lovely.’ He reached over onto the bedside cabinet. ‘I have something for you.’ He handed her a red leather box.

‘Cartier?’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘You shouldn’t have.’

‘Well, this is a special birthday.’

Evie eased back the lid. ‘Oh, Beau, it’s beautiful.’ She ran her finger over the heart-shaped brooch, diamonds glittering on the filigree wings.

‘It’s to bring you luck. You’ve been keeping your guardian angel rather busy lately, so I asked them to make you a spare set of wings.’

At dawn, Evie crept out of bed and pulled on her uniform. She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she looked at Beau stretched out in her bed. She picked up her brooch
from its red box on the dressing table and pinned it to the underside of her jacket collar, smoothing it flat. As she turned to him, her eyes fell to the flight bag. Evie checked he was still
sleeping, and crept silently forwards.

Her hand trembled as she pulled the letter out, her eyes on Beau. Quickly she flipped it over. There was an address on the back. ‘Olivia Shuster, 2 Mansion—’ She had no time to
read further.