Irma was waiting to welcome them back with open arms and seemed highly delighted with her machinations. ‘Oh, what a picture you two make together. That was lovely. Aren’t you glad you came now, Adam lad?’
‘Yes,’ Adam said, without expression. ‘Thrilled to pieces.’
Gracie fled to the cloakroom to cool her burning cheeks with cold water.
Lou found her there, moments later. ‘What is the matter with you? Didn’t you see me frantically patting my hair and redoing my bangs like mad?’
Gracie looked bemused, having quite forgotten the signals for rescue that Lou had concocted. ‘Sorry, I was too concerned with my own situation.’
‘What situation? You were happily having a ball with lovely Adam, while I had Luc’s hot little hands roving all over me like searchlights in a gun battery. Heavens, you were right. I should take care who I tease. He’s lethal. Like an octopus with ten fingers on each tentacle.’ Lou again patted her shining chestnut locks, teasing stray curls into place while casting sideways glances in Grace’s direction. ‘So, go on. What situation? How did you get on with lover boy then?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind,’ and, much to Lou’s frustration, Gracie lifted her chin in the air and sailed back into the hall.
Shortly after that the evening ended, with everyone taking their partners for the last waltz as the band struck up
Begin the Beguine
. Fortunately, at least so far as Gracie was concerned, Adam was grabbed by one of the village girls so she danced happily enough with one of the older foresters which, if not exactly romantic, had the advantage of being safe, with no more expected of her than to keep in time with his rather precise counting of one - two - three; one - two - three.
Irma arranged for Adam to see them safely home, while she helped with the clearing up.
‘Don’t worry about me. Arthur will fetch me home in his van. You young ones don’t want us hanging around,’ giving Adam a nudge with her elbow and a huge wink before sailing off, well pleased with herself.
Resigned to the inevitable, Gracie allowed Adam to help her on with her coat. It was as they went outside that the trouble started.
Luc suddenly appeared, out of nowhere, clearly the worse for drink, and began sounding off about how it should be his privilege to walk Lou home. ‘She my girl. I loff her! Everyone knows I loff her!’
Lou giggled. ‘Love, not loff. I love you.’
‘Oh my darlink Lou. I haf at last won your heart.’ Taking her words at face value, and not a correction of his diction, Luc swooped her up in his arms and began showering her laughing face with kisses.
‘Give over, you daft ‘apporth,’ Lou cried, desperately struggling to free herself but still not taking him too seriously. ‘Get off home and put yer head under the cold water tap. Let go of me, there’s a good lad.’ But either because of the drink, or the heat of his passion he didn’t let go, rather his embrace tightened, the kissing becoming ever more ardent and intense. Somehow he managed to slip open the top few buttons on the front of her dress and was fumbling inside, seeking her soft, full breasts. And then a voice came out of nowhere.
‘What the hell’s going on here? Lou?
’
Clutched tight in Luc’s sweating embrace as he dipped his head into the vee of her dress, Lou jerked her head round, and gazed in stunned dismay into Gordon’s furious face. What followed was so swift, so totally unexpected, that no one had the chance to react, let alone prevent it from happening. One minute Luc was muttering undying devotion into Lou’s cleavage, the next he was flying through the air. His yell, as he hit the turf, was earth shattering. But it was only as Gordon, fists clenched, again flew at him did Lou come out of her daze. Gracie and Adam did likewise, and the three of them fell upon Gordon to desperately try to pull him off.
Luc was yelling as if blue murder were being done to him, and Gordon was swearing that there soon would be. The noise attracted attention and soon the place was teaming with airmen, foresters and the transport men, all eager to fight they knew not who, over they knew not what. But they were determined that if there was a fisticuffs battle going, they would be a part of it. The situation gathered a momentum of its own.
Adam and Gracie finally managed to drag Luc out of the fracas while Lou clung fast to Gordon. She looked as if she might never let him go again, as she had him clasped tight in a smacker of a kiss.
Gracie stood with her hands to her face and looked down at Luc. Curled into a protective ball, he looked what he truly was, a young, desperately unhappy boy. ‘Oh my godfathers,’ he’s dead.’
‘No, he’ll live, probably a wiser man. Fetch some water to clean him up,’ Adam instructed her. ‘I’ll get him to his feet.’
Lou was crying. ‘He meant no harm. He was just a bit drunk. Oh, Gordon, I’m so glad to see you.’
Subdued, and looking a bit shamefaced, Gordon held her close. ‘How was I to know? Seeing someone apparently attacking my wife, I just knocked his bleedin’ block off. What sort of a welcome is that for a chap when he comes home?’
The scuffle ended with no serious injuries involved. Luc was cleaned up and returned to his colleagues, none the worse for his ordeal, apart from a black eye and a bruised ego. Lou went with Gordon to the Eagle’s head where they intended to book a room. ‘The honeymoon suite’, Lou declared with a wink.
Gracie and Adam were left to walk slowly home together. Eventually she felt calm enough to talk, as if the incident had united them in some way and drawn them closer. ‘I’m sorry that you felt in any way obliged to dance with me this evening. It was all your mother’s idea. You shouldn’t let her bully you, though I wouldn’t dream of blaming you for that. My parents are as bad. Always think they know best what’s good for me.’
‘Do they?’
‘Oh yes. That’s why I joined the Timber Corps, for a bit of freedom,’ and Gracie explained about her mother’s plans for her to be a teacher, while her father had intended her to follow him in the business, as well as their misguided attempt to abduct her from the Timber Corps. ‘It was farcical in a way, like something out of a Ma and Pa Kettle film. Father with two Jerry-cans of petrol so he wouldn’t have to stop, and me running off the minute Mother was forced to spend a penny. You had to laugh, really you did,’ and as she saw the sparkle of humour in his grey eyes, Gracie did at last see the funny side of it herself, and they both began to chuckle. Not wanting to dampen their more relaxed mood, she made no mention of getting lost in Exeter, or the horrors of the air raid. She was far too thrilled to find that his stiffness was thawing a little, that he might even be warming towards her, if only a little. It almost felt, for a moment, as if he quite liked her.
Adam said. ‘Mam’s been trying to find me a wife ever since I turned twenty-one. She’s in despair because I spend all my time working and don’t show enough interest in girls.’
‘You will, when the right one comes along,’ Gracie consoled him. ‘At least, that’s what Lou says, and I believe her. She never seems to have any trouble in finding a fella, as you can see, despite the fact that she’s already happily married. Some have it and some don’t, I suppose.’ Gracie giggled but Adam looked suddenly serious.
‘Don’t put yourself down. You’re a really nice girl, Gracie. I’m sure one day some man will be thrilled to have you for a wife.’ She managed to smile and thank him for his kindness before rushing upstairs to bed. It was the most charming put-down she’d ever received.
Luc made a point of calling at the cottage the very next day to apologise to Lou for his unseemly behaviour. ‘I am sorry your husband choose that moment to arrive. This is bad luck for us, yes?’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Lou protested. ‘It was just as well, considering the state you were in.’ She then proceeded to lecture him, very kindly but firmly, so that he stood before her, red faced and hunched shouldered, hands in pockets, like a naughty schoolboy.
He looked so pathetic and sorry for himself that Lou couldn’t be too cross with him. Besides, she was far too excited by the fact that Gordon had succeeded in transferring to a ship that docked in Liverpool and would be here for at least a week, though he only had a twenty-four hours pass. Determined to see as much of him as she could, Lou begged some time off as they’d arranged to spend the following weekend in Southport. The prospect of a further two precious nights together before his next tour of duty, filled Lou with joy. She was ecstatic.
When Friday came, she persuaded Irma to let her have the zinc bath tub all to herself for once, and drenched herself in Lily-of-the-Valley talcum powder with a liberal dab of the same scent behind each ear. Dressed in her best navy blue suit, the one with the zigzag buttoned jacket and a skirt that just skimmed her knees, which seemed entirely appropriate for meeting a sailor husband, she bribed Arthur Rigg to give her a lift to the station at Ulverston.
Once Lou had gone, Gracie settled down for a quiet evening in with Irma, one in which she would no doubt be destined to listen to another of her convoluted tales. Instead, as the clock struck seven, Irma reached for her coat. ‘I did mention that I was going over to Madge’s, didn’t I?’
‘I don’t remember you’re saying anything of the sort, but don’t worry, Irma. I’ll be quite happy here on my own.’
‘Course you will.’ She began to quickly button up her coat. ‘Not that you’ll be on your own, will you?’ Irma pinned on her hat, picked up her bag and gloves and made a dash for the door, as if she were suddenly in a tearing hurry. Just before she disappeared from view, she put her head back round the door and beamed cheerily at Gracie. ‘You won’t mind just popping that minced beef pie in the oven, will you, for our Adam’s supper? There’s plenty for you both, of course. He’ll be in about half past, as usual.’
Gracie looked surprised. She’d forgotten about Adam. Of course, he would still be here. He rarely went out, except perhaps later to the Eagle’s Head for his regular Friday pint. ‘All right, Irma. I’ll do that.’
‘Thanks, love. What a treasure you are. Just right for my boy.’ At which she vanished into the night and Gracie closed her eyes in despair.
Irma had done this deliberately. She’d left her here alone to see to Adam’s supper and to sit with him all evening, just the two of them. What on earth would they talk about? No doubt she hoped he’d feel obliged to take her with him to the pub. Gracie groaned at the embarrassment of it. Could she perhaps just pop the pie in the oven on a low light and then go off somewhere herself. But where? She didn’t know anyone well enough to barge in, unannounced. Drat Irma. Why didn’t the silly woman realise that she was actually doing more harm than good with this stupid subterfuge and matchmaking. Adam wouldn’t take kindly to being manoeuvred into spending time with her, any more than she herself had taken to her own parents organising her future career. It would be another disaster, just like the dratted dance.
The back door slammed and Gracie flew into the kitchen, anxious to at least do the right thing by him. He would be hungry after a long day working outdoors. Adam was standing at the sink. He’d stripped off his pullover and thick check shirt and was sluicing himself down with cold water. She watched as the soap suds slid over the rippling muscles. Lithe, young and fit, Gracie could imagine the smooth wet skin beneath her hands, were she to offer to scrub his back with the loofah. She did no such thing. She mentally shook the image away and began to babble.
‘Sorry. I - I just came in to make your supper. N-no, no, your mam made your supper. Course she did. I mean, I’m supposed to put it in the oven.’ Gracie snatched up the pie from the larder shelf and, as she reached to open the oven door in the tiny scullery and Adam moved to get out of her way, they did a sort of two-step from side to side before finally colliding. The pie leapt out of her hand and would have dropped onto the stone-flagged floor, had he not managed to catch it most adroitly.
‘That was a close shave. Good job I was always a good fielder.’ He grinned at her and Gracie flushed. In that moment Adam realised, for the first time, that she was indeed pretty. Very pretty indeed. ‘So,’ he said with a smile. ‘There’s just the two of us for supper tonight then?’ and having safely set the dish on the oven shelf, Gracie shut the door on the blast of heat, her cheeks more flushed than ever.
‘Afraid so. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all.’ The smile deepened as he too appreciated that this was yet another situation of his mother’s devising. ‘I can’t say that I mind in the least.’
To be fair to Irma, the minced beef pie was delicious, as were the stewed prunes and custard to follow, and the two of them got on much better than either might have expected. Not for a moment would Gracie have termed it romantic, but they chatted happily enough, became quite friendly as they exchanged details of their respective and decidedly different childhoods; shared hopes, dreams and aspirations for the future, once the war was over. All told, it proved to be a surprisingly pleasant evening. So pleasant, in fact, that as they washed up the dishes together in the intimate closeness of that tiny scullery, Adam expressed surprise that he’d forgotten all about going to the pub for his usual pint.
‘O-oh dear. I didn’t mean to spoil your evening.’
He laughed. ‘That’s not what I meant. I thoroughly enjoyed our chat.’ Then he asked if she’d like to go to the picture house in Ambleside with him, one day. ‘It’s not too far, and we could go in the van. We could do a matinee one Saturday if you prefer, and have high tea somewhere afterwards. Tomorrow perhaps? What do you reckon?’