The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [50]
‘And that doesn’t tell you anything about the kind of man he is?’ Diane challenged her.
‘Of course it does. It tells me that he’s the kind of man who knows what he wants and who makes sure he gets it. My kind of man. I’m going to Blackpool and that’s that.’
Diane wanted to stay and talk her out of what she was doing but she knew if she did she would be late for her own shift.
‘Look, why don’t you change your mind and come too?’
Was that a note of pleading she could hear in Myra’s voice? Why? Because she wasn’t as sure of herself as she liked to make out?
‘I’m sorry but no.’
‘Well, suit yourself,’ Myra told her dismissively. ‘It’s your loss. I’ve heard that the Tower Ballroom is really something special.’
‘How are you going to get there and back in an evening?’ Diane couldn’t stop herself from asking uneasily. ‘You can’t rely on the trains.’
‘Who said anything about going on a train?’ Myra smirked triumphantly. ‘No, Nick said he would fix everything and that includes the transport.’
Diane frowned, her unease growing. Myra was placing a lot more faith in her GI date than she would have in her shoes. Meeting up with someone at the Grafton was one thing, going AWOL from her shift and agreeing to visit somewhere as far away as Blackpool with him was a different thing altogether, but according to Myra a crowd of girls and GIs were going. And, of course, the Americans, unlike their British counterparts, were not limited as to the amount of money they had to spend or, it seemed, the amount of off-duty time they had to spend it in.
‘Here I am, duck,’ Mrs Brown proclaimed as she knocked briefly on the back door and then came bustling into the kitchen. ‘Whatever’s to do?’ she asked when she saw Ruthie’s worried expression. ‘I thought you was looking forward to going out tonight.’
‘I am…I was…’ Ruthie admitted, ‘but I’m worried about my mother.’
‘Well, you must stop worrying. I’ll look out for her right and tight, you needn’t fret about that. Where is she? Listening to the wireless, I’ll bet. She loves them wireless programmes.’
Ruthie shook her head. ‘She’s in the parlour, but…she isn’t her normal self at all. She’s hardly spoken all day, and when I talk to her she looks at me as though she doesn’t know me.’
‘She’ll be having one of those little turns of hers, Ruthie love, that’s all,’ Mrs Brown said comfortingly. ‘Thinking about your dad and the happy times they had together, I’ll be bound. She’ll be back to her normal self by the time you come back tonight, I reckon. Anyone would think that you don’t want to see that handsome GI of yours,’ she chuckled.
Ruthie blushed hotly. ‘He isn’t my GI, Mrs Brown. He only asked me for one dance, that’s all.’
‘Well, that’s enough where young love is concerned. More than enough sometimes. You stop worrying about your mam and think about yourself instead.’
Ruthie gave her a wan smile. She didn’t think she could bear not to go to the Grafton tonight, but her conscience was pricking at her, telling her that it was her duty to stay here with her mother when she was in this worryingly withdrawn mood.
‘Go on.’ Mrs Brown shooed her towards the door, flapping her apron at her and laughing. ‘Off you go and enjoy yourself. Your mam will be fine.’
‘I’ll just pop my head round the door and say goodbye,’ Ruthie said, hurrying into the narrow hallway, her heels tapping on the lino.
When Ruthie opened the door she saw that her mother was sitting in the fireside chair that had always been Ruthie’s father’s chair. She looked up but her gaze was unfocused and unseeing and it caught at Ruthie’s heart. Perhaps she should stay…
She was just about to take a step into the room when Mrs Brown bustled up, calling out, ‘Here I am again, Mrs Philpott, come to sit with you and have a nice chat whilst your Ruthie goes out with her friends. See, I told you she wouldn’t mind,’ Mrs Brown told Ruthie firmly when her mother made no response. ‘Off you go otherwise them friends of yours will think you aren’t coming.’
Myra looked anxiously