a hurry to give him the cold shoulder after all.
He was being kind and thoughtful offering her the shelter of his umbrella in this torrential downpour as the bus stop was full, and a girl shouldn’t refuse herself a little male attention, especially when she had been so badly deceived by someone she thought she loved – even more so when she had been betrayed by her sister and her boyfriend, she thought, her heart now full of retaliation. A little harmless flirtation with a handsome man did wonders for a girl’s ego.
‘Can I get you anything? I see you’ve snapped your shoe.’ His striking eyes looked so caring and she realised she hadn’t been exactly hospitable to this young man who was a long way from home. She rummaged in her bag under the protection of his umbrella, as much to collect her thoughts as to retrieve the gold compact she had treated herself to when she left Selfridges to work in the higher-paid munitions factory.
‘I tripped on a broken pavement,’ Dulcie simpered. ‘I’ve just had a terrible shock.’
‘I am so sorry. Ma’am, is there anything I can do?’
‘How good of you, I think I just need to sit down for a while,’ Dulcie said as she popped the concealed button on the side of her compact. She gasped when she saw the black rivulets of mascara that had run down her once perfectly made-up face.
‘You look beautiful to me, ma’am,’ said the young airman. ‘In fact I don’t think I’ve seen a better-looking woman since I got over here a month ago.’
‘Flatterer.’ Dulcie could feel the delicious warmth only a really good compliment could bring, and wondered how he could say such a thing when she now had panda eyes, and long white tracks where her tears had smudged her pan-stick foundation. ‘I looked perfect until …’ She paused. She had only just met this man, she wasn’t going to pour her heart out on the street, and without any hint of self-consciousness or false modesty she dabbed at the dark track lines.
The amused airman, standing so close, still holding the umbrella over her head, smiled as she expertly applied a slick of vermilion lipstick to her bee-stung lips. After pressing them together, revelling in his complete attention, Dulcie turned to the airman and pouted in the same way she used to do when she worked the busiest beauty counter in Selfridges. Without warning the airman took her actions as an open invitation, and he kissed her full on her ruby-red lips. When he let her go Dulcie gasped, completely taken aback.
‘How dare you!’ she exclaimed, secretly delighted.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but you are so irresistible, I couldn’t help myself.’ He then went red to the tips of his ears and gave her a bashful smile. Dulcie knew she couldn’t be angry with him.
‘You had no right to steal a kiss from me like that,’ she smiled coquettishly. ‘You saucy devil … just you wait to be invited next time.’
‘I am so sorry, ma’am; I don’t know what came over me.’ Then they both laughed, and for a moment Dulcie forgot that her sister had just run off with her man.
‘Would you like to go for a drink?’ asked the airman. ‘You look like you could do with one.’
‘It’s that obvious,’ Dulcie said, remembering again. And then, perhaps as a gesture of retaliation for what Edith had done, she decided that two could play at that game. ‘I’d be delighted,’ she said as she took the arm he offered, helping her across the road to the little pub opposite the train station. Once inside, much to her embarrassment, he removed her shoe and then the offending strap leaving just a sling-back and the front peep toe.
‘It looks great,’ said Dulcie, ‘but what about the other – they are now odd.’
‘May I?’ he asked as he removed her other shoe and as Dulcie nodded her consent he took a penknife from his trouser pocket and sliced off the other ankle strap. ‘There,’ he said, satisfied with his wonderful handiwork. ‘They’re both the same again now.’
‘Thank you,’ Dulcie said, slipping the straps into her clutch bag. ‘I suppose Olive will soon find a use for these.’
The airman laughed as he went to the bar and got them both a drink. A young Tommie sitting in the corner with his pals gave Dulcie a withering look as if to ask if Englishmen weren’t good enough for the likes of her.
Dulcie turned her attention to the posters on the wall advertising Dobie’s Four Square cigarettes and the smily face in the froth of a glass of milk stout; she didn’t want any trouble and she knew that some British men were very touchy about ‘their’ girls fraternising with American servicemen and had all sorts of unattractive names for them. But she wasn’t one of them. She was just upset and being helped by a kindly airman. After her drink she was going straight back home.
After finishing her third port and lemon Dulcie realised she wasn’t so angry now and she certainly didn’t want to scream any more. Feeling very mellow indeed, she told the airman all about her sister and her boyfriend. She hadn’t meant to tell him – she didn’t want to tell anybody, sensing that in some way it might have been her fault for keeping Wilder at arm’s length, but the alcohol had loosened her tongue somewhat.
However, her new beau reassured her that Wilder’s infidelity couldn’t possibly be her fault, she couldn’t be blamed for picking the bad apple in the barrel, and assured her that all American servicemen were not all like that at all.
‘Another drink?’ the airman asked and Dulcie nodded, feeling cordially tipsy, so much so that when the piano player struck up a popular tune she joined in with all the enthusiasm of a practised entertainer. She would show them that her voice was as good as their Edith’s.
The bar was crowded and the airman had been gone a while. Long enough for Dulcie to gather her thoughts.
Edith, it was true, had a better voice and was more popular, it had to be said – no wonder she had taken her sweetheart, Dulcie thought, knowing he was the gift that she was never going to get any enjoyment from. And, whereas Edith never felt she had to wait her turn or be grateful for cast-offs, Dulcie was used to being second-best. And it was the insecurity of seeing her younger sister being fussed and preened over from the moment she was born that made her what she was today, Dulcie was sure.
‘You were dreaming with your eyes half-closed there, honey,’ the airman said as he brought more drinks to the table. Dulcie wondered if she’d had enough but he soon managed to persuade her that she’d had a shock, and drinking port and lemon was good for shocks, he laughed.
The last drink seemed to disappear much quicker than the others, Dulcie noticed, and dragging her thoughts from the doldrums she once more joined in with the rousing chorus of songs.
‘Bless ’em all, bless ’em all, the long and the short and the tall …’ Dulcie swayed along with everybody else and very soon the room began to swim.
‘Are you all right, ma’am?’ said the airman, whose name she hadn’t yet asked for. Dulcie nodded and scrambled to the door for fresh air.
‘I’ll be fine in a minute,’ she said, holding up her hand to keep him at bay in case she deposited the alcoholic contents of her empty stomach onto the pavement. After a few huge gulps of balmy summer air she was able to nod to let him know she was better now.
‘Do you want to go back inside?’ he asked and Dulcie gently shook her head. Instead, she allowed herself to be escorted with his protective arm around her tiny waist towards Article Row.
‘Isn’t
