The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [41]
The nippy was returning with her tea. It gave Myra a great deal of satisfaction to see the look on her face when she saw Nick.
‘Bring another cup, will you?’ Myra directed her coolly.
‘I thought you said you was expecting three friends,’ the nippy returned sharply.
‘Hey, you should have said that you were expecting friends to join you.’ Nick made to stand up.
‘No. I mean…I was, but they must have changed their minds.’ Myra told him. Damn the wretched waitress and her big mouth.
‘It’s a bit of luck me running into you like this,’ Nick said when he had sat back into his chair. ‘A few of the guys have been thinking of driving over to Blackpool next Saturday. They say the Tower Ballroom there is a good place for dancing. How about coming along with us?’
‘Well, they do say that there’s safety in numbers,’ Myra acknowledged. ‘Will these other guys be inviting girls to go along as well?’ Officially she wasn’t off duty on Saturday night but she would wangle the evening off by persuading one of the other girls to change duties with her. The chance to spend an evening at the Tower Ballroom alone was worth parting with a couple of pairs of the nylons she had had from Al, never mind going there with Nick. Not that she had any intention of letting Nick himself see how much his invitation had thrilled her.
‘Sure they will,’ he said easily. ‘We’ll make up a party, guys and their girls. We’ll organise the transport – pick you up outside Lime Street Station. What do you say?’
‘I suppose it will be a change from the Grafton,’ Myra answered with a small careless shrug.
The overofficious nippy was still hovering, and the look she gave Myra as she stood up to leave was only just short of open contempt.
‘Pity it’s not dark yet,’ Nick murmured to Myra as they left, ‘otherwise I’d offer to walk you home.’
‘Who says I’d let you?’ Myra countered. Pure excitement was running hotly through her veins, so hotly that she felt also dizzy.
‘Oh, I’d find a way of making sure that you let me, sweet stuff,’ Nick promised.
‘Hey, Mancini, get a move on.’
‘Sorry, sugar, but I’ve got to go.’ Nick held up his arm in acknowledgement of the shouted command from the sergeant standing beside the waiting Jeep. ‘Otherwise Sergeant Polanski is gonna shoot me out of tonight’s crap game.’ Before Myra could stop him, he leaned down and kissed her hard and purposefully full on the mouth. Myra could hear the roar of approval from his waiting comrades.
‘Outside the station, say five o’clock next Saturday afternoon,’ Nick told her as he stepped back and then strolled arrogantly towards the Jeep.
At last she had found a man who was a real man, Myra acknowledged; an American man; a man who could give her the kind of life she wanted.
The city centre was busy with people coming and going, and groups of men in American uniform passing the time whilst they waited for their transport back to their base at Burtonwood, watching the girls who walked past them. The Americans, with their immaculate uniforms and their pockets full of money, had brought a buzz of energy and excitement to the grim bleakness of the war-ravaged city. It was no wonder that women were drawn to them, Myra decided, eyeing the dull uniforms and war-weary pallor of a small group of British Army men with disdain. They looked shabbier and smaller than the Americans, bitterness in the looks they were directing towards the smartly dressed GIs, who were laughing and joking as they flirted with the girls whilst the British were ignored. Too bad, Myra decided unsympathetically, turning her own back on the men as she crossed the street, her mind full of plans to ensure that she would be able to get the coming Saturday evening off.
‘Well, if it isn’t the street’s prettiest girl. Now there’s a welcome sight for a poor weary soldier to feast his eyes on.’
‘That’s enough of your nonsense, Billy Spencer,’ Jess half scolded the tall, dark-haired man who had caught up with her as she walked home.
Billy was five years her senior and Jess had known him all her life. His family