The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [37]
It was another half an hour before Myra finally appeared in the kitchen.
‘I thought I’d wait until the coast was clear and Mrs L had gone to church,’ she told Diane as she lit up a cigarette.
‘I rather think she was expecting us both to go with her,’ Diane told her.
Myra gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Tough. I’m not wasting my day off going to church. I’ve got better things to do with my time. You could have gone, though. Why didn’t you?’
‘Because I wanted to have a word with you about last night. Somebody must have put something into my drink and I was wondering if you happened to see anything.’
‘No, nothing,’ Myra lied, adding quickly, ‘Look, if I were you, I’d forget about it. OK, so you made a bit of a fool of yourself, and Nick said—’ She broke off as she saw Diane’s expression, demanding suspiciously, ‘What are you looking like that for?’
‘I know it isn’t any business of mine,’ Diane told her steadily, ‘but—’
‘But what?’ Myra drew heavily on her cigarette and then exhaled angrily.
‘He’s arrogant and he’s a bully, Myra, the way he behaved to that young man.’
‘That’s their business, isn’t it? You really messed up the evening for me. You know that, don’t you?’ she burst out angrily, stubbing out her cigarette.
The last thing she wanted was to be lectured. She had decided that Nick was perfect, the kind of man who, if he was hers, could transform her life. Already she was fantasising about how different her life would had been if she had been lucky enough to be born an American. And surely the next best thing to being born an American was to marry one. Especially one like Nick. He had talked to her last night about New York where he lived.
‘You want to see Times Square,’ he had told her. ‘And the shows on Broadway. You Brits don’t know what life is all about.’ He had laughed then. ‘Jeez, you’d never catch a New Yorker putting up with your blackout, rationing and wearing hand-me-downs.’
‘New York must be wonderful,’ Myra had sighed enviously
‘It sure is,’ he had agreed. ‘The best place on earth, and I can’t wait to get back there.’
Myra’s sharp comment had made Diane’s face burn a little, but before she could defend herself Myra continued critically, ‘I thought you were someone who knows what life’s all about, Diane, not some stupid kid like the one we walked home with last night, all stars in her eyes and still believing in Father Christmas. You and me could have been well in with those GIs if you’d played along with them instead of acting the way you did. What’s the point in going to a dance if you’re going to behave like you don’t want to be there, and you don’t want to have any fun?’
‘Getting picked up by GIs might be your idea of fun but it certainly isn’t mine,’ Diane responded firmly.
‘Then more fool you. This bloody war makes me feel like I deserve every bit of fun that comes my way. We could all be dead tomorrow,’ Myra reminded her.
‘Oh, come on, that’s the argument every man in uniform who wants to get into a girl’s knickers comes up with,’ Diane protested. ‘You must know what’s said about girls who chase after GIs, Myra. The Americans themselves are calling them little better than prostitutes. In my last post, some of the GIs were saying some pretty unpleasant things about our girls.’
‘Save the moralising for someone who needs it,’ Myra stopped her rudely. ‘After all, the state you were in last night you aren’t in any position to go telling others how to behave, are you?’ Myra conveniently forgot the part she had played in Diane’s downfall.
‘The fact that I was in that state, and through no fault of my own, should tell you all you need to know about your precious GIs,’ Diane shot back, as angry now as Myra. ‘Is that really what you want, Myra? A man who thinks it’s acceptable to tamper with a girl’s drink?’
‘What I want is a man who’s got something to offer me. I’m sick of everything