For All Our Tomorrows (6 page)

‘Good to meet ya, Bette. Chad tells me you and he are getting on real fine, and I can see why. You sure are a looker. Pity I didn’t get to you first.’ And he flashed her a grin, showing perfect white teeth.

Chad slapped him on the back. ‘Well, I beat you to it this time, you old rascal, and won me the best girl in town.’

‘You sure did, though now she’s met me, she might change her mind.’ Barney’s gaze upon her was steady and Bette felt her cheeks grow warm beneath its scrutiny, understanding why Chad liked him so much. He seemed easy-going and relaxed, if a bit full of himself.

When the next slow number came on, Barney asked her for a dance. ‘You don’t mind?’ he asked of his buddy, already leading her out onto the floor, and Chad shrugged his shoulders.

‘Hey, I know we share most things, but not girls, right? One dance, that’s all.’

‘Okay!’

They grinned at each other, with much slapping of shoulders and then Barney swung her away, holding her so close that Bette judged it wise to strike up a little conversation, so that things didn’t get too smoochy between them. He was a nice guy but she already had her date for this evening. However, who knew what might happen tomorrow, or any other night? Bette was all in favour of a little variety in life.

‘Chad has been trying to explain the size of things in America. It sounds such a
big
country.’

‘Sure is. You got such small towns here. Small houses, small cars, narrow roads. Back home we got space, and lots of it.’

‘He tells me that you and he have been friends for years.’

‘Aw, Chad and me go way back. Went to the same school, church, everything. Our folks are neighbours, both in the same line of business, friendly rivals as you might say.’

‘What sort of business? Doesn’t Chad’s family own an estate in North Carolina?’

Barney tripped over his own feet and bumped into another couple sashaying by. It was a moment before he caught his balance and they were back on course. ‘Sorry, no Fred Astaire, me. Hey, old Chad been telling you his life story then?’

‘Only that his family owns land.’
 

Barney half glanced across at Chad anxiously watching them, then spun Bette expertly around, steering her well away from his friend. She was such a pretty little thing, no wonder Chad had stretched the truth somewhat, left out a few details like the fact that the landlord owned the land and the Jackson family only rented it. Well, he was much better at this game than his old buddy would ever be. ‘Sure thing. Got himself a fine stretch. My family too, matter of fact. You could ride all day and not reach the end of it. That’s America for you.’

‘Goodness!’ Bette couldn’t begin to imagine quite how much land that might mean, but it sounded a great deal. ‘So what’s all this about business?’
 

He chuckled softly against her ear, nestling her close so that she couldn’t see his face while he worked on his answer, with the added benefit that he could enjoy the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest while he did so. Telling her that both families were little more than dirt poor farmers producing poultry and vegetables wouldn’t help either Chad’s, or his own suit, one little bit. ‘Ya might say we’re in the food industry.’

‘Oh, you own restaurants?’

Barney half choked on his laughter, but managed to stifle it just in time. ‘We Americans call them diners.’

‘And how many do you have?’

He just couldn’t resist those eyes, so big and trusting. ‘A couple. Hey, no, a whole string.’

‘Goodness, where?’

Barney snatched at the first town that came to mind. ‘Savannah. That’s in Georgia. Got pretty-bitty squares, fountains and fretwork you’d never believe, and great Gothic villas and fine Georgian mansions set in tree-lined avenues. It’s some fine town is Savannah, built on the back of cotton.’

‘Oh,’ Bette gasped, wide-eyed with wonder. ‘But I thought Chad said you lived in North Carolina?’

Barney didn’t flinch over his mistake. ‘Ain’t so far away, jest over the border. Chad and me got together, left home to seek our fortune, as ya might say.’
 

Smiling happily, Bette relaxed, slid her hand up around his neck and pressed herself ever closer. Barney had shoulders worth hanging to. ‘I just knew my sister was wrong and that Chad was telling the truth. He’s told me all about his house too, built after the American civil war, ante something or other.’

He had one hand on her pert little butt and Barney’s mouth had suddenly gone very dry. God, he wanted this woman. She was some chick. He wanted to take her outside and give her one right this minute, but she was still patiently waiting for an answer. He cleared his throat. ‘The houses in the South are called ante-bellum. They’re the big plantation houses that used to keep slaves to do all the work in the house and on the land. Now they have servants and fancy butlers, land managers and the like. Course, Chad and me, we don’t live in one of those.’

‘You don’t?’

‘Naw.’ She looked so cast-down and disappointed that Barney swiftly revised what he’d been about to say. What was he thinking of? He’d never told the truth in his life, and this wasn’t the moment to start. Where did truth every get you where women were concerned? Not even past first base. He sure did hope that this one would soon grow tired of his dumb pal and move on. And he’d be waiting. ‘S’matter of fact, we built us each a fancy new place on the edge of town.’

‘In Savannah?’

‘Right.’ He’d stopped caring what lies he told her. One place was as good as another in Barney’s view. He’d slid the hand beneath the edge of her little jumper and she didn’t seem to mind. Her skin was soft as silk. ‘Hey, you and Barney, you’re not stuck on each other, right? I mean, you’re open to other invitations?’

‘Oh, I don’t know!’ Bette gazed up at him, mesmerised. The rim around the iris in his eyes was violet, and they were sparkling most seductively at her. As for the hand, she didn’t care to think what that was doing, but it was making her feel all weak and funny inside. If she moved her head just one more inch, his mouth would be within kissing distance.

‘Jeez, what we doing talking about houses and history? That’s some heady perfume you’re wearing. What’s it called, sugar?’

Bette flushed, giving a little pointed wriggle of the hips to shake herself free of the wandering hand. ‘Only Lily-of-the-Valley. Now don’t you dare flirt with me, or I’ll tell Chad.’

Breathing rather rapidly she pursed her lips and attempted to look cross, sternly reminding herself she should be sensible and check out details properly. But America being such a big country it surely must be rich, as must the men who lived and worked there, so what he’d said made perfect sense. ‘Tell me more about this diner of yours.’

Barney was no longer listening. ‘You wouldn’t sneak on me, would you, sugar? You wouldn’t tell my old buddy how I think you’re the sweetest gal I ever did see? Jest gazing into those golden-green eyes of yours turns my insides to mush.’

He was smiling seductively down at her, a crooked, wicked smile that spoke of danger, and his hands were off on their wandering yet again, smoothing her hips, circling her waist so that Bette began to feel quite weak at the knees. He was so gorgeous, she almost wished that she’d met Barney first. Still, there was always another day. Bette sent him a tantalising glance up through her lashes, just to let him know that she wasn’t really cross, and was rewarded by a tightening of his arm about her that sent a little bolt of excitement shooting somewhere it shouldn’t.

‘I think you could be a bad man to know, Barney Willert.’

‘I think you might be right, sugar, and don’t you just love the thought.’
 

Chad appeared suddenly at her elbow, having pushed his way through the crowd. ‘I’ve decided that best buddy or no, you’ve had long enough with my gal.’
 

Bette was disappointed to be interrupted, yet thrilled that Chad appeared so keen, that he wanted her all to himself, and gave Barney a smile of pure triumph.

Barney’s words had reassured her though, that Chad wasn’t spinning her a yarn, as Sara had suggested. It must all be true. Why would they both lie? Not that she hadn’t trusted Chad absolutely, and even if she had any more questions, they very soon vanished clean out of her head, just the moment he started kissing her.

Chapter Six

The fish supper was a great success and everyone came back for second helpings, declaring they were being fed like kings. Sara noted that several of the men did indeed slip across to The Ship for a cider or beer, though no one got too drunk, so far as she could tell. She and Sadie poured tea while Isobel Wynne and Edith Penhale helped Nora serve the fish.

Once Sara was sure that everyone had been fed and the music had started up again, Hamil back on his fiddle playing a lively barn dance to get everyone going again, she slipped outside to look for Bette.

Her sister was nowhere in sight, but the fresh air was a welcome relief after the heat of the hall. Sara escaped to the quay to breathe in the sweetness of the night. Despite it being black dark with not a light showing, she was only too acutely aware of work still going on, of ships standing at anchor in the docks further up river, perhaps being loaded with munitions or supplies of china clay as this work still continued, war or no war.

From behind her came the strains of
You Made Me Love You
, and below her, the slap of water against the quay walls as the tide came in. Comforting sounds which could change in a instant.
 

Out there, at sea, the enemy might be searching for a target, perhaps hovering even now over Plymouth, their nearest city, which had suffered badly in the blitz. And then out of the darkness would come the drone of the enemy planes, blotting out all other sounds, stopping hearts from beating, filling them instantly with fear.

‘This is my favourite time of year. Back home in Boston, it would be fall and the colours of the trees would be magnificent.’

Sara was startled, having believed herself to be quite alone. For all the comment seemed to indicate that he was homesick, she couldn’t find any words of comfort to offer, couldn’t even bring herself to turn around and smile at him. Simply knowing he was standing there beside her, made her feel gauche and unnerved. She half glanced over her shoulder, not at the officer but across the quay, as if to make sure they were unobserved. People were standing about outside The Kings Hotel, chatting and drinking. The music was still playing. There was no sign of Hugh.

‘I hope you don’t mind my following you. It got kinda hot in there.’

‘Yes, I thought so too.’ Finally she plucked up the courage to risk looking at him, offering a polite little smile, and saw that he’d stuck out a hand for her to shake.

‘Charles Denham, ma’am, at your service.’

She acknowledged his introduction with a shy nod as she slid her hand into his, and felt the firm warmth of his grasp. Somehow it filled her with new strength and she was sorry when he let it go. ‘Sara Marrack.’

She had the sudden urge to tell him that she was married to the landlord of The Ship Inn, but thought better of it, knowing it would sound silly and inappropriate.
 

‘You’ve got a fine town here, ma’am, and you certainly know how to make folks welcome. Our boys are having a real swell time.’

‘Thank you. That was the general idea. I hope you enjoyed your fish supper.’ Sara stopped, thinking how trite she sounded, almost patronising, and bit down on her lip, wondering what to say next. He seemed equally tongue-tied and they stood for some time gazing into the darkness, seeing nothing but the glint of moonlight on the rippling water. After a long moment, Sara stirred herself. ‘I really should get back. They’ll need help with the tea, I expect.’

‘Everyone seemed to have finished with tea by the time I left, but I’d be glad to lead you out in a waltz, if that’s allowed.’

Sara felt flustered by the question, innocuous though it might be. What could she say? That her husband would object, that he’d accuse her of being a loose woman, of betraying him, or some equally melodramatic nonsense. But he could come out of The Ship at any moment, and catch her talking to a Yank, smiling up into his eyes. She shook her head and moved quickly away. She didn’t even to pause to check if he followed, yet somehow she sensed that he watched her every step of the way.

‘Where’ve you been? I’ve been hunting for you high and low.’ Hugh was waiting for her on the steps of the Town Hall, a scowl on his face which made him look almost ugly.

Sara smiled as she took his arm, knowing he was always prone to exaggeration and turned him towards the pub, away from the quay. ‘I went for a breath of fresh air. It’s been pretty hectic in there. How did it go for you? Have you had a profitable night?’ Little point in asking if he’d enjoyed the event.

Hugh grudgingly admitted that it had indeed been most profitable, yet managed to turn it into a complaint. ‘Iris and I have been run off our feet.’

‘Did she cope okay?’

‘Don’t use Americanisms,’ he reprimanded her. ‘Yes, Iris did fine. She’s really a very capable girl and quite popular with the customers.’

‘Good. Everyone seems to have had a marvellous time, made lots of new friends, which was the point of it, as well as eating up every morsel of the fish.’ Sara giggled. ‘At least the food didn’t cost us anything. Only Scobey could do something so stupid.’