Lights Out Liverpool (38 page)

‘It’s a telephone.’

‘Can I use it?’

‘No, you can’t.’ Eileen switched on the cream-shaded lamps each side of the bed and turned the main light off. ‘There! That looks cosier, doesn’t it?’ She glanced around the rather old-fashioned room, with its highly polished furniture, thick brown carpet and cream embossed walls, and gave a sigh of satisfaction. ‘I like hotels. I wouldn’t mind living here for the rest of me life.’

‘I can walk round in me bare feet, see!’ Tony had begun
to
get undressed. ‘And it doesn’t feel the least bit cold. And Mam, the lav’s only just outside the door. You don’t have to go down the yard, like at home.’

‘I wonder what Nick’s room is like?’ She opened the adjoining door. The adjacent room was exactly the same. Nick hadn’t bothered to unpack. His small suitcase lay on the bed, unopened.

‘He’s got a cob on, hasn’t he, Mam?’

Eileen came back and knelt down to help her son with his trouser buttons. ‘I suppose he has, luv. But he’ll get over it. He always does.’

‘He won’t be horrible to me, will he, like me dad was when he was in a bad temper?’

She hugged him fiercely. ‘Of course not, luv. Nick’s like a little boy sometimes. In certain ways, he hasn’t grown up proper yet.’

Tony wasn’t keen on his mam having another little boy, even if he was much taller than she was. ‘I don’t like him much,’ he pouted, as he climbed into bed.

Eileen’s heart sank. ‘You will do, luv, eventually,’ she replied with more confidence than she felt. She tucked the covers under his chin.

‘Don’t go till I’m asleep,’ he pleaded.

‘I won’t. Anyroad, I want to change me frock and make me face up again.’

‘What happens if there’s an air raid and you’re downstairs?’ he asked nervously.

‘That’s not likely to happen, is it?’ She removed her frock and began to run the water in the little cream sink in the corner. The water gushed forth in a cloud of steam. ‘Jaysus! This is hot!’

‘There was an air raid the other day,’ Tony responded.

‘That was hundreds of miles away up in Scotland,’ she said sharply. On 17 March, St Patrick’s Day, the
Germans
had had another go at the naval base in the Orkneys. Several civilians living nearby had been killed. ‘Anyroad, the RAF bombed the Germans back, didn’t they? Perhaps that’s put them off for good.’

‘I bloody hope so,’ said Tony.

‘Don’t swear!’ She slapped his bottom through the bedclothes.

‘That didn’t hurt a bit,’ he chortled.

‘It wasn’t meant to! Now, come on, Tony, go asleep. You’re staying awake deliberately just to get up me nose.’

‘There was silence from the bed as Eileen made her face up, then slipped into the strawberry pink moygashel suit she’d bought from C & A especially for London. It was very plain; the skirt straight with a kick pleat at the back, the short-sleeved top buttoning down the front. She pulled the stiff wide belt as tight as it would go. Finally, she pinned a bunch of white silk snowdrops to the lapel. She turned towards the bed.

‘What do I look like?’

But, to her relief, Tony was fast asleep.

To her further relief, when she got downstairs, Nick seemed to have recovered his good humour. He waved to her from a table in the corner of the small but surprisingly crowded bar.

‘I got you a gin and it,’ he said when she reached him. His voice was slightly thick, as if he’d drunk too much, something which she’d never known him do before.

‘Ta. Cheers!’ She took a sip, then reached in her bag for her cigarettes. ‘Are all these people staying here?’ The hotel didn’t look big enough for so many guests.

‘No. This bar has become the place to meet if you’re in the services,’ he explained. He put his hand on his chest
and
murmured, ‘Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa.’

‘What’s that for?’

‘Earlier. I’m sorry I went of the deep end, but I always loathed Perry Eccleston. He cheated his way through college. Seeing him in uniform was bad enough, but to have him suggest I dodged call-up made my blood boil over.’

‘Never mind,’ Eileen soothed. ‘He was only showing off.’

‘He’s got good reason to show off. He’s a Second Lieutenant in the Navy, I’m a Scientific Officer, grade something-or-other.’ He sighed mournfully. ‘I’m going to get another drink. How about you?’

‘I’ve hardly touched this one yet.’

He got up and began to push his way through the crowd, and Eileen glanced around with interest. The air was thick with smoke and the buzz of conversation almost deafening. Nearly all the drinkers were in uniform, women as well as men. There were three WRENs at the next table, and it seemed odd to see women wearing collars and ties. She wondered if it felt uncomfortable and envied their air of self-assurance and sophistication. The bar seemed to be getting more crowded by the minute, as if it was definitely the place to be that night.

Two young soldiers paused at her table. ‘Would you like some company, sweetheart?’

‘I’m with someone,’ she stammered.

‘She’s already spoken for!’ Nick was back, grinning at the soldiers.

‘I thought she would be, but there’s no harm in trying,’ one said wistfully.

Nick was about to sit down when a distinguished-looking middle-aged couple in evening dress entered the
bar
and paused at the doorway, as if searching for a table.

To Eileen’s surprise, Nick said joyfully, ‘That’s the chap I’ve come to see. I won’t be a minute.’

He hurried across and caught the man’s arm just as the couple were about to be swallowed up in the crush. After a few seconds, the man’s face broadened into a smile of recognition, and he shook Nick’s hand and introduced the woman. They remained talking for quite a while, the older man nodding his head from time to time. Then Nick produced a piece of paper, wrote something on it and handed it over. They shook hands again and Nick returned to sit by Eileen, a satisfied look on his face.

‘That was Ben Fulford’s old man. Ben said he would be staying here. I gave him my address and he’s going to do his best to get me out of Kirkby and into the Air Force. He reckons there’ll be a shortage of pilots once the war gets going.’

Eileen glowered at him. ‘That’s what you’d like, isn’t it? For the war to get going, so you men can play your silly games? Trouble is, you’ll probably get killed in the process. But that doesn’t matter; you’ll be dead and gone and it’s the women who are left behind to do the crying.’

‘Will you cry for me?’ he asked tenderly. He leaned across to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head away impatiently.

‘You’re drunk! Anyroad, it’s a stupid question because you know damn well I’ll cry for you.’ She refused to look at him as she lit another cigarette and puffed on it angrily. ‘I suppose I may as well go upstairs and pack me bags. You’ll be wanting to leave, now you’ve sorted out your business.’

He didn’t answer. Eileen continued to ignore him as she glared around the bar. The WRENs had been joined
by
two ATS girls and the five were involved in an animated conversation. At another table, half a dozen Air Force men were counting loudly, ‘One two, three …’ as one of their number downed a neat row of drinks, one after the other, each in a single gulp. When he reached six, he stared at his mates with glazed eyes, then gradually sank onto the floor, where he seemed to fall asleep. There was a burst of song from across the room: ‘
Bless ’em all, bless ’em all, the long and the short and the tall
…’ One of the WRENs got up and demonstrated the Sailor’s Hornpipe and someone shouted, ‘Do it on the table, Admiral.’ The WREN stuck out her tongue and sat down again.

If the war ‘got going’, Eileen wondered, how many of these young people would be alive this time next year? She felt strangely out of things. Her own contribution towards the war effort paled beside that of these youngsters in uniform. If it wasn’t for Tony … Suddenly, she understood Nick’s urge to be involved.

She turned to him. He was watching her solemnly, his hands folded primly on his lap, lips twitching. Unable to resist, as usual, Eileen burst out laughing. ‘I said to Tony earlier, it’s like having two little boys with the pair of you.’

‘You didn’t! Is that what you think of me?’ He looked taken aback.

‘Frankly, sometimes, yes,’ she confessed.

‘That’s terrible! Let’s go upstairs this very minute and I’ll prove to you I’m anything but a little boy.’

Eileen had her drink halfway to her lips. At his words, she put the drink down and sat staring at the little cork mat on which the glass had been set. She’d been dreading this.

Or had she? She wasn’t quite sure. She knew in her
heart
of hearts it had to happen sometime, and once Nick had suggested London, that the sometime would be then. But her feelings were totally confused; one minute fearful, next a delightful anticipation.

‘All right,’ she said. The words seemed to come from some distance away, as if someone else had said them for her.

Nick put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Are you sure?’ His voice trembled.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, though she was anything but.

She stood up on legs so weak they nearly gave way and she stumbled. She felt Nick’s hand on her elbow, where it stayed as he led her upstairs and into the blackness of his room.

‘I’ll just check on Tony.’ She felt for the door. She’d left a lamp on, and saw her son hadn’t moved.

Before Eileen had time to close the door, Nick’s arms came round her roughly. He buried his head in her neck as he began to undo the buttons of her suit top. She felt his hands heavy on her shoulders, dragging the top away, pulling at the straps of her petticoat and bra, then his thumbs were rubbing her nipples, so hard that it hurt. She gasped in pain. Nick seemed to think the gasp was an echo of his own passion, because he lifted her up bodily and carried her to the bed.

‘Oh, my darling, darling girl!’ He was pulling at her skirt, her suspender belt and pants, until she was naked beneath him. Then he stood back from the bed and regarded her silently for several seconds, before beginning to remove his own clothes with startling rapidity. From the light falling through the partially open door, Eileen saw his tall, naked body, his limbs gleaming softly in the creamy glow. Then he lay beside her and began to kiss her passionately whilst his hands explored her intimately.

Eileen wasn’t quite sure what did it. Perhaps it was the smell of alcohol on his breath or the wild, hot look in his dark eyes that reminded her of Francis.

‘
No!
’ She pushed him away. ‘No!’

‘What’s the matter?’ He removed his hands abruptly.

‘I don’t know.’ She slipped off the bed, ran into her own room and closed the door behind her. She found her nightdress and put it on, then glanced around for her bag. She needed a cigarette desperately, but remembered the bag was in Nick’s room. She’d just have to go without. She got herself a drink of water, instead, and sank, panting, into a chair.

Was it always like that, making love? Rough and hurtful, never gentle? Surely Cal didn’t treat Sheila as if she was just a piece of flesh? Thoughts chased each other wildly through her head as she tried to understand. She loved Nick and if she wanted to be with him, perhaps she’d just have to get used to making love that way. But, could she?

There was a tap on the adjoining door and Nick said softly, ‘Eileen. We’ve got to talk.’

‘In a minute.’

She washed her face, then took a deep breath and went into his room. He was sitting on the bed in a red check dressing gown, smoking a cigarette. He patted the space next to him. ‘Come and sit down. I promise not to touch you.’

She knew she could trust him. As she shut the door, she said, ‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

‘I don’t. This is one of yours.’

‘Where’s me bag? I’m gasping for one.’ She propped a pillow up against the headboard and sat beside him.

‘Take this. I can’t stand it.’

‘Ta.’ She took a long puff. ‘I wish I’d never begun
smoking
. I don’t seem to be able to live without them nowadays.’

‘I wish you’d stop. They’re bad for you.’

‘I know,’ she said conversationally. ‘Me poor dad’s getting terrible short of breath lately. He’s smoked like a chimney all his life.’

‘I liked your dad, and your sister. I’d like to meet them again sometime.’

Eileen didn’t answer. After a while, Nick said, ‘I’m sorry, Eileen. I was pissed out of my mind and I wanted you so much. Did I hurt you?’

‘Yes,’ she answered in a small voice.

‘Can we try again? Not tonight,’ he said quickly. ‘Some other time?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I love you. You know that, don’t you?’ He still made no attempt to touch her.

‘I know, Nick,’ she said gently. ‘And I love you. We just got off on the wrong foot, that’s all.’

‘Stay with me tonight,’ he said urgently. ‘I won’t lay a finger on you, I swear. I’ll sleep on top of the covers, if you like.’

She laughed. ‘There’s no need for that.’

‘So, you’ll stay?’

‘I’ll stay.’

They sat in contented silence for a while, Eileen relieved that everything seemed all right between them again. She said, hesitantly, ‘Nick?’

‘Yes, darling?’

‘Could we use the telephone and send down for a cup of tea?’

She couldn’t sleep. Outside, the London traffic remained heavy, even into the early hours of the morning. Cars
hooted
continually and late night revellers laughed and sang as they went down nearby Piccadilly. Beside her, Nick slept peacefully, his back to her.

Edging up carefully so as not to disturb him, Eileen sat clutching her knees. Thin strips of light showed under the doors to Tony’s room and the corridor, and gradually the objects in the room began to take shape; the big wardrobe, the tallboy and dressing table with their pretty little brass handles. Nick’s shoulder and his left arm were out of the clothes and his smooth, satiny flesh gleamed dully. She held her breath, longing to reach out and stroke it. The nape of his neck, where his dark hair was clustered in little tight curls, seemed particularly appealing. She thought about before, when his hands had touched her, explored her, and shivered at the memory. Had it really been so bad? Why had she made him stop?