Soldier Girl (38 page)

Soon they were having fun, and Molly quickly picked up on the dance steps, the band playing ‘Chattanooga Choo Choo’ and ‘Deep in the Heart of Texas’. It was exhilarating, and they both ended up laughing during each number, trying to keep up and not tread on each other or pull in the wrong direction. Other blokes came up, wanting to dance with her, and Molly went off for a couple, but mostly they stuck together the whole evening. She called hello to Jen, who was dancing with the gunner she had been knocking about with for some time. Cath also seemed to be enjoying herself with her date, a dark-eyed, smiling young man, and Molly was glad to see her chatting to him and looking cheerful.

They did sit out a number every so often to rest and have a drink, but there was not much time for talking, and Molly felt full of energy and excitement and wanted to be up and moving again. It was a night for letting off steam and having fun. She revelled in Len’s company, proud to be seen with him, enjoying the admiring looks he kept giving her. But one question kept niggling at the back of her mind. Now that they had agreed they were together, had Len yet told Sheila? He had said he must write as soon as possible, so that Sheila did not go ahead with arrangements for the wedding. Had he done it – or was he holding back? Would he ever really do it, or was he just leading her on? But she tried not to let her doubts get in the way of a happy evening.

After a couple of hours of dancing, laughing and joking, they were both beginning to flag a little.

‘I could do with a bit of air,’ Len said.

‘Me too. My feet’re killing me!’

Len took her arm and they went outside. Molly felt the perspiration cooling on her face. She breathed in the salt-tinged night air. The laughter and music faded as the doors closed behind them and Len led her down the side of the tennis courts with their sagging nets, along the sandy path towards the chalets.

‘Must be nice, having a holiday here,’ she said. Instinctively they spoke in low voices.

‘S’pose so,’ Len said. ‘You don’t want to be in one of them in the winter though – they’re perishing. You get water freezing on the inside of the walls!’

Molly could hear the low voices and giggles from other couples among the chalets, all having sought out a private spot for a kiss and cuddle. Suddenly, mixed with her longing and desire was the old thread of confusion and dread. Now they were alone like this, how should she behave? How should she feel? She mustn’t throw herself at Len, not like in the old days. But she was out of practice – she had been avoiding men for the past two years. She didn’t trust herself not to get it all wrong and put him off.

‘At last I’ve got you to myself,’ Len said. He stopped beside one of the chalets and listened to check that it was quiet inside. The shape of the chalet loomed behind him, even darker than the sky with its sliver of moon. Len’s big, solid hands were very warm as he pulled her towards him. She could smell him, hot, manly. She wanted to be wrapped in his arms, to be kissed and caressed, for her confusion to disappear into him, but the nagging doubt was in the way. She couldn’t help herself.

‘Have you told her? Sheila? You said you’d write—’ She wanted to speak lightly, but her voice came out sharp with tension.

Len gave a brief sigh. ‘Not yet. There’s been no time. But I will. I’ll do it this week.’

‘You promise?’ She felt like a child, weak and vulnerable.

‘Yes. It’s just – well, it’s a rotten thing to have to do.’

‘Well—’ She pulled away, petulantly. ‘If what you want is to be with her, then
be
with her. Just don’t keep on messing with me!’

‘Oh love – Molly, don’t!’ Len sounded really fed up. She could just see the glister of his eyes in the thin moonlight. ‘You know it’s not like that. I’m being a coward, I know. It’s just it’s been so long, and all her family thinking we’re getting married, and mine. They’re neighbours – it’s going to be a shock to everyone. I’m just having to prepare myself. Just don’t get all upset, love – I will do it.’

Appeased, she moved back towards him, trying to be understanding, even though what she really wondered was, if he wanted to be with her, why didn’t he just get on with it?

‘Come here – let’s have a cuddle.’

They pressed close, his mouth searching out hers. Molly began to give herself up to the sensation of it, his warm lips, her hands stroking the rough serge of his uniform. They kissed for a long time and she could feel his excitement, his need for her. And she desired him as well, had not reached that dreaded point where she would switch off and go cold.

After a time Len drew back. ‘Back there, when we were dancing, it was like the loveliest thing,’ he said shyly. ‘Just seeing you – knowing I was with you. I can’t believe it. You’re just gorgeous you are, Molly.’

Molly giggled. ‘Well, that’s nice.’

He leaned down to kiss her again, eyes glazing with desire. ‘I just wish – well, that we could . . . well . . .’ There was a pressure in his voice, words coming out in a rush. ‘That we could go further. You won’t be here much longer, will you? And then we’ll be apart. I mean, Sheila and I never – I mean, she’s not that sort of girl, not that I didn’t want to . . .’

Molly listened to him with rising panic. It was very obvious what he meant, what he was after. She could easily, out of habit, throw herself at him, wind him up until he couldn’t resist. But then would he look down on her instead of respecting her the way he did Sheila? And she was afraid of her own reactions. With Tony it had been unsatisfactory, from her point of view at least. She was afraid now that she didn’t have it in her to respond to a man the way you were supposed to. Something in her just shut down when things progressed beyond a certain point. And she didn’t want him to know that – didn’t want to know it herself.

‘What makes you think I
am
that sort of girl?’ she asked tartly. ‘You just think I’m easy and common, do yer? Well I don’t know what makes you think that.’

‘Oh – no!’ Len sounded mortified. ‘I don’t know why I said that. I just – you’re so amazing to me, Molly. You make me feel . . .’ He was pulling himself together, back to being the old, courteous Len. ‘Of course you’re not. Just me getting beyond myself. I’m sorry. Let’s go back into the dance, shall we?’

‘I s’pose so,’ she said sulkily. It felt as if he had poured cold water on her. She knew it was the safest thing to go back, but perversely she was now filled with anger and a sense of rejection. She longed stormily for Tony’s wiry, urgent need of her, not for this stolid self-control. She needed his desire, to feel able to control him. So he didn’t want her now, was that it? She raged inwardly. Why was he being so boring and reining himself in?

Back in the ballroom Len held her apologetically, though it took her several dances to recover her temper. By the time the evening was over, they were back to kissing goodnight tenderly.

‘See you tomorrow, love,’ Len said softly.

‘Night night,’ Molly said, giving him her sweetest smile.
My husband-to-be
, she added silently.

As she was drifting off to sleep that night, she imagined the farmhouse where they would live, with the pig, the hens stepping across the backyard laying fresh eggs, the haystacks and carrot crops, the sun always shining and a garden full of flowers and strawberries. She imagined lying naked in Len’s arms, his touch, his maleness, his making love to her. Her body stiffened with dread. Longing and despair mingled in her and she welcomed sleep, unable to face her thoughts.

‘Molly! Here – hop in!’

The truck was waiting for her at the gun park as they came off their shift a few days later, stiff with cold now the winter was setting in. A mizzling rain was falling.

Len was beaming from the cab. ‘Get in with me – I’ll take you back.’

‘What about us?’ Jen shouted, striding up to them. ‘Don’t we get a lift in the dry as well?’

‘Nope, sorry – you’ll have to wait for the other transport. This is a military mission!’ Len shut the window on Jen’s curses, chuckling as Molly clambered up into the cab.

‘Cheeky bugger – what’re you doing here?’

‘Well, we had orders to sort out the anti-freeze for the winter. See, you have to remove the thermostat from the water system, and seal the joiner and then . . .’

‘Len – for God’s sake, I don’t mean what’re you doing like that, I mean why are you
here
, now, with me?’

‘Oh, I forgot – of course you don’t want to go worrying your pretty little head about technical matters,’ he teased, dodging as Molly reached over to thump him.

‘Technical matters!’ she fumed. ‘Course, there’s nothing technical about what I do, is there!’

‘Calm down, little tiger – I thought I’d bring her out for a trial run, and I came here because I’ve got something to tell you.’ He had been about to pull away, but he braked again, suddenly solemn, staring ahead at the khaki figures walking along the road, blurred through the streaming window.

‘Well come on – tell me!’

‘I’ve written to Sheila.’

Molly gasped. ‘Oh my God – have yer?’ Though this was what she wanted, she was also afraid suddenly. It made everything real and very serious.

Len nodded. She could see he was relieved to have done it, but also sad and uncertain. He released the brake and started driving. They drove about half the distance in silence.

‘You’re wishing you hadn’t done it, aren’t you?’ Molly said eventually. Lately she’d been trying not to say ‘ain’t’.

‘No! Course not. I just feel a bit sorry for her, me backing out on her and nothing turning out how she expected.’

‘Well you can go back to her,’ Molly said harshly. ‘If you feel that sorry for her. I don’t s’pose it’s too late. You either want her or you want me – you’ll have to make your mind up.’

‘Don’t be like that, Molly.’ He sounded wretched.

A moment later he stopped outside her lodging house. A white sheet, hung out to dry, was flapping half-sodden from the balcony railings. For a moment Len looked miserable, then he turned to her with a smile.

‘It’s you and me now, sweetheart. What d’you think of that?’

Her heart softened, fear and jealousy melting away. ‘I think it’s the best news ever. You’re my fella.’ And she snuggled close and kissed him.

Things were sweet after that, for a few days. Len received a letter from Sheila almost by return of post. It was sad, brave and dignified. He showed it to her when they were sitting together in the NAAFI.

Molly saw tears in Len’s eyes as he watched her read the letter, written on pale blue paper, in a looping, careful hand. It made her feel tearful as well.

‘She sounds ever so nice,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ he said, very subdued. ‘She is. I thought she might be a bit, well, angrier. She’s taken it very well. I’m not proud of hurting her though. And she’s buried out there in the country. I hope she’ll find someone else in the end.’ He stared wanly ahead of him. Molly felt herself shrink inside. She could see his regret, even if he kept telling her he wanted to be with her. And she felt humbled by Sheila’s lack of anger or spite, certain that she would not have behaved so nobly if the same thing had happened to her. At the same time she felt very tender towards Len: he had been prepared to do this for her, to give up so much.

‘Have you told your mom and dad?’

‘Yes,’ he said, sighing. ‘I haven’t heard from them yet though.’

They sat in silence for a moment, both awed by what had happened.
He’s all mine now
, Molly thought. Instead of excited, she felt suddenly flat, but she told herself not to be so silly. It was her job to cheer Len up.

‘Come on,’ she jumped up. ‘It’s stopped raining. Let’s go out for a bit.’

When they were outside, in the blustering wind, Len held her very close and looked deep into her eyes. She could see him wondering if he had done the right thing.

‘You won’t go and leave me, will you?’ he asked.

Tenderly she stroked his cheek. ‘Why would I do that?’

The news came very abruptly three days later. Molly, Cath and their battery were being re-posted – this time to Dover. Though they had known it was coming, Molly listened to their sergeant relaying the information, and was shocked to realize that mingled with her dismay at the terrible prospect of being separated from Len was a surge of relief which disturbed her so much that she tried to pretend she had not felt it at all. But the feeling of being trapped had lodged in her ever since she knew about Sheila’s letter.

There was no time to see Len and tell him until much later that day. They often met up outside the ballroom, and that was where he was that evening. She hurried up to him and just came out with it.

‘We’re moving on – the order came this morning. Day after tomorrow.’

His expectant expression fell into one of misery and anxiety.

‘The day after tomorrow?’ He was rubbing the top of his head as if to make his brain work better. He seemed more uncertain about everything these days.