swung his smallest son over the seated people, then stepped over too. The other two boys made their own way to their mother’s side. On squatting down by Gertie, Rufus immediately began bickering with his wife because one of the boys had been misbehaving, making him lose concentration while playing Rummy.
Dawn turned further away from the couple, as though to give them privacy, glad Rufus Grimes was too preoccupied to have glanced her way. Now she’d heard his coarse voice there was no doubt he was one of the thieves. But he hadn’t recognised her, and at the first opportunity she’d slip away.
A little stack of novels, belonging to the fellow who’d ogled Gertie, drew Dawn’s lowered eyes. She was tempted to pilfer one, and pretend to read it. She knew, without conceit, that she was pretty and men tended to eye her up. She feared that once Grimes stopped chastising his son he might take more notice of his surroundings, and her …
‘Sit yer arse down, Joey, and stop fidgeting,’ Dawn heard Rufus snap at the eldest boy. Dawn slid a glance at the child, realising he was like his father with his chunky limbs and reddish hair.
Dawn’s heart began pounding beneath her ribs as Gertie’s husband turned his head in her direction. She adjusted her collar, pulling it to her cheeks as though for warmth. Remembering that she had Bill’s letter in her bag, she delved inside for it. Angling it carefully to shield her face she stared sightlessly at it.
‘So you ain’t won any money at cards then?’ Gertie sounded upset.
‘Shut up,’ Grimes rumbled beneath his breath while clumping Joey, who’d continued irritating him. ‘Might as well get going,’ he said testily. ‘Ain’t heard one bomb drop …’
A moment later a short whistle preceded a loud explosion that rocked the ground and sent a cloud of choking dust into the underground.
‘That’ll learn you to keep your mouth shut,’ Gertie chortled, making her eldest son erupt in laughter at his father’s expense.
Grimes shoved Joey in the shoulder for mocking him and in doing so started another row with his wife.
Dawn realised she wouldn’t get a better moment to flee. She stuffed Bill’s letter back in her handbag and keeping her face covered with a hand, as though to sift the filth floating in the air, she got carefully to her feet. She gave Gertie a small smile and a farewell wave.
The peeping Tom rolled over, attempting to get a look up Dawn’s skirt as she stepped over him, making her lose balance.
Grimes put out a hand to steady Dawn and prevent her trampling his kids. ‘’Ere, mind your step, yer clumsy cow …’
‘Oi, she’s me workmate!’ Gertie protested. ‘Watch your language.’
‘Oh … friend of yours, is she now …’ Grimes was peering at Dawn’s face. He drew his head back on his thick neck, cocking it to one side. ‘Is she indeed?’ he muttered softly. ‘Wondered why she looked familiar. Gonna introduce me then, are yer, Gert?’
‘No, I ain’t! And there’s no need to stare at her ’cos she’s pretty,’ his wife hissed resentfully.
‘Going over there by the steps,’ Dawn whispered, twisting her arm free of Grimes’s fingers when he seemed reluctant to let her go. There was a horrible leering mockery in his expression that let her know he remembered where he’d seen her before.
‘So … what’s yer friend’s name then?’ Grimes repeated his question as Dawn negotiated the lounging bodies.
‘’Bye, Dawn …’ Gertie called out. ‘She’s Dawn Nightingale and she’s a dancer at the Windmill Theatre. You shouldn’t have stared at her like that. She’ll think you’re a dirty old man.’
Dawn let out a sigh as she carefully put distance between herself and the Grimes family. Rufus Grimes now knew not only her name, but also where she worked. Dawn rarely swore, but she cussed repeatedly beneath her breath as she made her way towards the exit. She hunkered down close to the steps, ready to make a dash up them the moment the all clear sounded.
‘Would you show the new girls the ropes, Dawn? I’m in a bit of a rush. The accountant’s turned up and is waiting for me in my office.’
Dawn had been comfortably lounging in a chair, aching feet up on the dressing table, having a crafty smoke. Quickly she stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, tightening the belt on her dressing gown as Phyllis, the manager’s secretary, ushered in two young women then hurried out again.
Dawn had a couple of matinees to do before home time. A short while ago she’d been rehearsing for a new tap routine in shorts and top with her fellow dancers. Her colleagues in the chorus line had sped across the road to the café to snatch a bite to eat before the first show started at half past two.
‘This is a bit poky, ain’t it?’
‘I’ve seen worse in other places.’
‘Suppose it won’t matter in any case; ain’t gonna need a dressing room much if I’m in me birthday suit all the time.’
Dawn thought she recognised that chirpy voice and she tilted her head to see the young blonde standing behind an older brunette.
Rosie Gardiner noticed Dawn then. Her mouth dropped open in surprise before she grinned. ‘Well I never. It’s you, ain’t it! Didn’t know you was a Windmill girl. You got home alright that night after the commotion then?’
‘So did you, I see.’ Dawn looked Rosie up and down. She’d only seen her before in half-light. In the glare of the dressing-room bulbs Rosie’s hair looked artificially blonde. But she had pretty dimpled cheeks and a snub nose dusted with freckles that made her look impish rather than vampish. ‘Didn’t know you were in theatre work too,’ Dawn remarked.
‘Didn’t get much time for chitchat, last time we met, did we?’ Rosie widened her eyes in emphasis. ‘Anyhow, I ain’t in showbiz … I was a shop girl but I need better pay, so thought I’d give this a go.’
‘So, you’ve been a showgirl at other theatres, have you?’ Dawn turned her attention to the brunette, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Dawn Nightingale, by the way.’
‘I’ve worked at a few other places in my time. My name’s Marlene … Marlene Brown.’ Marlene shook Dawn’s hand. ‘So you two already know one another then?’
Rosie nodded. ‘Lucky, weren’t we, that night?’ she said to Dawn.
Dawn hoped Rosie wouldn’t mention the incident. She reckoned the fewer people who knew about that the better. ‘We sheltered together from a raid in a shop doorway,’ she briefly explained to Marlene.
It had been several days since Dawn came face to face with Grimes in the underground shelter. She’d convinced herself that he’d want to forget they’d bumped into one another as much as she did. Gertie hadn’t done a shift since and in her absence Dawn had been brooding on whether Rufus had told Gertie what had gone on. Of course, there was a good chance that Grimes kept his looting sprees from his missus. But meeting Rosie unexpectedly like this had brought back a feeling of foreboding.
