Songbird Under a German Moon (14 page)

“Okay, spill it. I want to hear about your romantic date with Frank.” Before Betty had a chance to respond, six more women hurried into the room, including Kat.

Betty scooted back across her bed and leaned against the wall. “There's not much to say. We ate at the canteen, and then we walked around town. It was too depressing though.” She shook her head. “There are so many displaced people. Then, he took me to his friend's darkroom, and he showed me how he developed film. I saw some great photos of the Festspielhaus and some good ones of all of you. Especially you, Kat.”

“Yes, of course, what a surprise. Kat always looks good. Even when she's ill, the camera loves her,” Pearl, Shirlee's sister, complained.

“So do you think we can see them? Can we get copies?” Dolly asked.

Betty shrugged. “Frank has to ask his boss. He says it's against the rules—but since we're not a top-secret project or anything, his boss might agree.”

“It's not fair, you know.” Shirlee sat next to Betty on the bed. “We've been here nearly two months, and I haven't found anyone like that photographer. You're here one day and—
poof
, there he is.”

“Yeah, that's because we flew in on the same airplane, which is a story all its own.” Betty launched into the story of how they lost an engine, and how Frank had gone to check on things and then calmed everyone down.

“It helps that our photographer is handsome,” Irene said. “It makes it easy to look his way and smile.”

“I agree, but I bet he thinks we're trying to get a lot of good shots for the newspaper. If he had any idea we all were sweet on him—” Dolly fanned her face with her hand.

“Personally, I think he's just using you, Betty,” Kat groused, easing onto her bed and pulling her knees to her chest. “He knows that those photos are going to make the papers. He's trying to advance his career. And he's being nice to all of you so that when you're finally famous, he'll publish these shots and make a buck.”

Betty felt her smile fade as she listened to Kat's words. She didn't want to believe them, yet a small pain struck her heart. Kat had been around. She most likely knew about these things.

“But you're already famous,” Irene put in.

“Exactly, and I've never had a shot taken of me that wasn't used to line the photographer's pocket. It's part of this business. If you stick around, you'll learn all about it.” Kat rested her chin on her knees and let out a low sigh. “He's not interested in you, Betty. All he's interested in is the dough that the photos of your face can bring him. I bet even now he's making extra copies and selling them to the
GIs on the black market. Mark my words, as soon as this Frank guy gets what he wants, he'll be on the road.”

Betty's chin dropped, and her stomach felt sick. She'd tried to be understanding with Kat. Tried to be a friend.
Why is she saying this? Doing this? She's deliberately trying to hurt me.

“Hey, Betty.” Irene patted her leg. “Why don't you come and sleep in our room tonight? We can help you carry the mattress upstairs if you'd like.”

Betty appraised Kat. Even though she didn't feel like hanging around and getting the cold shoulder, she didn't want to add any more regrets to the ones she already carried. She didn't need to run away anymore.

“Thanks, Irene, but I'll hang out here tonight.”

Kat looked over at her, and Betty couldn't help seeing the surprise in her eyes.

“Okay, kid. Get some sleep.” Irene gave her a hug. “We're supposed to be there early for rehearsal.” Then she stepped back and swept her arms around the room, mimicking Mickey. “Girls. Girls. Come on, work with me, we got a big show tomorrow.”

Betty laughed along with the others, but deep down her heart still ached from Kat's words. She shut the door behind her retreating friends and then hurried to her bed, refusing to look at Kat. Refusing to let Kat see her tears.

Maybe she knows what she's talking about. She's been in this business a long time. Maybe Frank doesn't like me as much as he's letting on. Maybe he's just using me to get to the other girls—to get their photos. To get closer to Kat.

Frank finished up his breakfast and then carried his dirty tin to the scullery, adding it to a pile of others. Then he hurried toward the exit, eager to finish developing his rolls of film and get them to HQ. After his work was done, he could head up to the opera house to see Betty. His steps paused, though, when he noticed a sign posted at the door that he hadn't seen yesterday.

Need your high school diploma? Classes every afternoon. Sign-up at HQ. Don't head home a dummy.

Frank scratched his chin.

“Thinking about signing up?” A soldier stood beside him.

“Yeah, I'm thinking about it. I dropped out my senior year to join up.”

“So did a lot of us. My bunkmate says a hundred and seventy guys have already signed up. There aren't many spots left.”

“A hundred and seventy? You kidding?”

“Nope.”

“I guess that makes me feel better. Shows I'm not the only dope around here.”

The man pointed to Frank's uniform. “Well, from those two Battle Stars and the Purple Heart, I doubt anyone would think you're a dope.”

“Thanks, but you don't have to be smart to get shot at.” Frank chuckled. “While I'd love to get back to the States, I don't want to go before I can get a good job.”

The man nodded in agreement. “For the last two years, I've lived in overcrowded barracks. Here, it's an overcrowded house. I can't even imagine going back home and moving in with my parents and all my brothers and sisters and their spouses. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded and smiled, even if that wasn't his case at all. His mom and dad were the only ones left, and he knew they'd be heartbroken if he didn't want to move home—for at least a while. A sadness washed over him as he thought of Lily. He couldn't imagine being back home without his sister. Lily had always been the sunshine in their family. The passionate, laughing one. The one that took a joke and gave it back.
Sort of like Betty.

He looked at the poster again.
I need to start thinking of what type of life I can offer a wife someday.
The thought both scared and excited him. It scared him because he'd always questioned if his work in the war would bring danger to those he cared about. It excited him because now he had a chance to work toward that independence. Signing up for these classes would be a good thing, even if his future missus wasn't the pretty songbird who'd recently caught his interest.

The other guy left, and Frank headed into the street with a lighter step. He knew he only had an hour's worth of developing work, and he would sign up for the classes when he dropped the film off—since they were in the same building. He just hoped he didn't miss a spot on the roster.

Back at his place, he finished developing the film in Art's darkroom. He waited for the photos to dry, and then he packaged them
up for Henry. He couldn't figure out why the country needed to use his talents to take pictures of singing girls, but that wasn't his call. He figured Marv had another assignment that he'd had to keep from everyone else, including Art.

Headquarters, he discovered, had taken over a large building that used to be the mayor's office. He found the right office and knocked at the door.

“Come in!”

Frank was only partially surprised when he saw Denzel Bailey, Marv's right-hand man, sitting behind the desk. Frank had spent a lot of time with Denzel in England. They'd been assigned to the same base, and both favored walking around, seeing the city, and touring the countryside, rather than picking up girls, which meant they'd hung out together a lot. Denzel had tagged along on a number of Frank's assignments when he'd photographed suspicious people in and around London. Of course, Denzel hadn't a clue as to what Frank had really been up to.

“Hey, Frank. Didn't expect you to be in so early. You had all day to get those photos in.”

“Yeah, well, I thought I'd get a head start—gives me time to get back to the Festspielhaus. I didn't know you were in Bayreuth.”

Denzel shrugged. “For the time being. Who knows how long I'll be here. This is my fourth German town in the same number of months. Seems like the American public is still hungry for news and photos of what Germany's like after the war.” He shrugged. “Maybe it helps them feel better to see things worse off over here, especially when so many have sacrificed so much.”

“Well, if you talk to Marv, tell him thanks a lot for the assignment. How am I ever going to find a serious job after telling my future employers that while the trials were going on in Nuremberg, and the Russians were being bullies in Berlin, I was shooting girls in evening gowns? Man, the most exciting thing I've seen so far was when our transport plane almost went down coming in to Nuremberg.”

“Are you kidding? It's big news that Katherine Wiseman's over here singing for the troops. Everyone likes to see photos of stars in combat boots, even if there's no combat going on.”

“That might be true, but she's leaving tomorrow. Then what?”

“Well—then you need to start grooming some new stars. Treat the other girls like they're the hottest thing coming down the pipeline and to the American public, they will be.” Denzel opened the large envelope and started glancing through the images that Frank had taken. “Pretty girls, all of them. Not one of them looks like they've been hit with an ugly stick—speaking of which, Marv wanted to know how you like that new singer.”

“Do you mean Betty?”

“Yeah, sure, Betty sounds right. I don't remember. All I know is that when Marv came back from USO tryouts in Los Angles he was all talk about some young thing that was going to capture ol' Frank's heart.”

Frank crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “I guessed that. But I don't understand. Why has Marv taken such an interest in my case? I'm just one photographer in a thousand; what does my happiness mean to him?”

Denzel's face dropped. “You're kidding, right? Don't you know?”

“Know what?”

Denzel motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “You better sit.” He rubbed his temples with his fingertips.

“Sit? Denzel, what's going on?”

Denzel pointed to the chair again, and Frank had no choice but to sit.

Denzel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, no longer interested in the photos.

“I don't know why Marv didn't tell you himself, maybe it hurt too bad to talk about it. But personally I think you have a right to know.” Denzel took in a deep breath and then released it slowly. “Marv made a promise to Lily, see.”

“Lily?” Frank furrowed his brow. “My sister?”

“Marv was sweet on her—had been since they first met at an airbase in New York. They wrote often, and over the years their friendship grew into something more.”

“You have to be joking. I'm sure Lily would have told me—” Frank's voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard. “Then again, my sister kept her personal life personal. She never did tell me what guys she was sweet on—said she was always afraid I would try to butt in.”

“Yeah, that's my guess too. Since you knew Marv—worked with him—maybe she wanted things to happen natural-like, and not because her kid brother gave the thumbs up. Or didn't happen because he gave the thumbs down.”

“I still don't understand.” Frank's throat felt raw. He could see his sister's face in his mind. She'd been too young to die. She'd had so much potential. “What was the promise about?”

“Well, Lily was worried about what you'd experienced—mostly that you'd seen a lot of war, lost a lot of friends, and didn't have anyone to turn to. She told Marv that if he met anyone she'd approve of to make sure you got a proper introduction—or at least that's what Marv told me.”

“So Marv put us on a plane together—and gave me this assignment?”

Frank furrowed his brow. Denzel didn't know how many dangerous situations Frank had been in—and would no doubt continue to get himself into—but Marv did.
Why would he try to set us up? Doesn't he realize that Betty's life could be in danger by just being around me?
It made no sense.

Frank turned his attention back to Denzel, who shuffled through the photos. “It could be worse, Frank. You could have Art's job. I hear he's been taking photos of bombed basements.”

“Yeah.” Frank chuckled softly, but deep inside, his heart still ached with thoughts of his deceased sister. For his parents too. No one should lose a child. Even though it had happened to hundreds of thousands of families, their pain was unique to each of them.

Frank stood. “Well, thanks for letting me know. It makes me feel good that Marv thinks Betty is someone Lily would have approved of.”