she had bothered to dance with him in the first place. She could have so easily declined his invitation.
But he had been unable to forget her.
Vincent sighed, took a long drag on his cigarette, blew smoke rings up into the air, watched them float away and evaporate as they did. And he decided that thinking about the diminutive Venus de Milo of the bright blue eyes and gorgeous legs was a hopeless waste of time. For one thing, she had apparently evaporated – just like the smoke rings. Ever since bonfire night, he had made a point of popping down to the church dances for a few minutes, looking for her, and he had kept his eyes peeled when he had gone about his business in Armley. He had never once run into her. Furthermore, none of the regulars who attended the church dances every Wednesday and Saturday seemed to know who she was. He had made innumerable inquiries about her for the past two months. The only bit of information he had been able to garner was that her busty blonde girlfriend, also nameless it seemed, was a nurse at the Infirmary. Some good that did him. He knew he had about as much chance of ever meeting Blue Eyes again as a snowball in hell.
Perhaps that’s just as well, he muttered under his breath. All I need is a steady…not bloody likely I don’t.
At this moment the front door flew open so unexpectedly and with such force Vincent sat up with a jerk, looking startled. An icy blast of air blew right through the kitchen, chilling him. It brought with it Laurette and Maggie, two of his three sisters.
They had been to the Co-op to do the weekend shopping and each carried two bags filled to overflowing. They were bundled up in navy-blue winter topcoats, green-and-black tartan tam o’shanters and matching long woollen scarves. The cold wind had given them polished apple cheeks, turned their noses into bright red cherries. Their eyes sparkled and there was such a gaiety and liveliness about them they brought a delighted smile to his face.
‘Hello, Vincent,’ they chorused, grinning at him.
‘Hello, you two beauties,’ he responded, then exclaimed, ‘For God’s sake close that door, Maggie.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ the twelve-year-old girl said, and pushed it with her foot. It banged so hard the frosted-glass panel rattled.
‘Watch that glass!’ Vincent cautioned and shook his head, mildly exasperated with her.
Maggie mumbled, ‘Sorry,’ and followed her elder sister to the counter near the sink, where she deposited her bags of groceries.
Turning to face her brother, starting to unbutton her coat, Laurette said, ‘It’s very quiet in here, Vincent. Where is everybody then?’
‘Upstairs. Or out.’
‘Who’s upstairs?’ Maggie asked, always inquisitive. Shedding her coat she flung it down on the sofa.
‘Hang that up, young lady,’ Laurette instructed, giving her a sharp look.
Maggie pulled a face but she did as she was told. She pressed, ‘Who’s upstairs then?’
‘Our Mam. She’s dusting the front rooms. And Jack, who’s reading to Danny. Mam says he’s got to stay in bed today – because of his bad cold,’ Vincent explained.
‘I knew it! I just knew he wouldn’t be any better!’ Maggie cried shrilly, rolling her eyes dramatically, showing exaggerated alarm. ‘I told Mam that. He coughed and coughed all night. Poor little Danny, he’s always badly. But what can you expect, he’s the runt of the litter.’ She continued to cluck sympathetically like a middle-aged matron of vast experience, then finished in a superior, knowing tone, ‘Change-of-life babies are often weak in health.’
Vincent averted his head, biting down on his laughter. Maggie was a card. None of them ever knew what she would come out with next. His father said she was as old as the hills.
Laurette, however, was not in the least amused and the look she gave her young sister was stern, disapproving. She thought Maggie was impertinent at times, that the girl saw and heard far too much for her age. But Laurette said nothing. She walked over to the cupboard and put her own things away. Then she took a cup and saucer out of the cupboard above the sink, joined Vincent at the table. She lifted the cosy, felt the pot, poured herself a cup of tea, added milk and sugar.
Vincent watched her all the while, his expression loving, caring. He was concerned about Laurette’s well-being at the moment. Just over a year ago she had married their first cousin Jimmy, but it had not worked out. She had come back home to live three months ago, much to his relief. He had believed that particular union to be doomed right from the outset, had never had much time for his cousin, whom he considered to be a bit of a wet rag.
Laurette was a sweet-natured girl, and at twenty-two she was the nearest to Vincent in age. They had always been very close. She was lovely looking with fair, wavy hair, a sensitive face and grey eyes that were enigmatic and soulful. Tall, slender, she had a frame and a build similar to her brother’s, but it was young Maggie who truly resembled him, with her gypsy-dark hair, widow’s peak and large green eyes that were a reflection of his. Olive, the middle sister, was more like Laurette to look at, but she too had dark hair, and she had inherited her mother’s pale blue eyes. Olive, who was twenty, had married her childhood sweetheart when she was eighteen and she and her husband Hal lived near by.
Maggie joined Vincent and Laurette at the kitchen table.
She stood next to her favourite brother, rested one hand on his shoulder and with the other she slapped a packet of Woodbines down in front of him, along with some loose change.
‘Here’s your cigs, our Vincent. And don’t smoke ‘em all at once either. Because I’m not going out again today. Not for nobody I’m not. Not even you. So there!’ Flopping down on the chair next to him she threw him a challenging look, added, ‘If you want to know, I’m fed up being everybody’s blinking errand boy!’
He threw back his head and roared. ‘Aren’t you the tough little tiddler this morning. But thanks for getting my cigs, love.’
Laurette said, ‘I can’t believe everybody went out…on a cruel day like this…why, it’s blue murder out there, Vincent. Where on earth have they all gone?’
‘Dad went to the barber’s to get a haircut. Our Frank, the aspiring equestrian, is at Hardcastle’s stables, helping to exercise the horses. And the learned Bill took his books back to the library.’
‘I see.’ Laurette sipped her tea. There was a short pause. Then she asked, ‘Olive’s not been up this morning, has she?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Oh I am glad I haven’t missed her. We’re supposed to be going to the old-time dancing tonight, and I want to make my arrangements with her.’ Laurette paused and smiled at her brother as an idea struck her. ‘Would you like to come with us, Vincent?’
‘I would!’ Maggie interjected eagerly, swinging her eyes to her sister. ‘Let me come with you and Olive, Laurette. Please.’
‘No, you can’t, you’re too young,’ Laurette said. ‘Well, Vincent, what about it?’
He shook his head. ‘No, thanks for asking, though.’
‘But why not?’ Laurette demanded. ‘You’d enjoy it. Come on, say you’ll come with us.’
He
