The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [61]
They had left the others now to continue their walk back to Ruthie’s alone. It was a clear balmy night, the ack-ack guns silent, and the sky filled only with stars and a soft moon.
‘You know, I think I could get to like this blackout of yours,’ Glen chuckled as he drew Ruthie into the shadows.
She was so nervous. She had never done anything like this before nor even imagined that she ever might. What if they bumped noses or she did something wrong? She felt Glen’s lips touch her own and she drew in a sharp breath.
The kiss they shared was slightly clumsy but totally satisfying, filling Ruthie’s heart so brimful of joy that she could feel it spilling over inside her. When Glen took her back in his arms, she lifted her face to his this second time with shy eagerness. It was quite amazing how quickly a person could get used to this kissing business, Ruthie decided happily as she hugged Glen back as tightly as he was holding her.
‘Come on, I’d better get you home before I take you back to camp with me and ask the padre to marry us straight away.’
Ruthie was still laughing as they turned the corner into the Close, but her laughter stopped when she saw the figure standing desolately in the middle of the road, wearing a dressing gown, her feet bare. She was looking vacantly around herself.
‘Say, what’s this?’ Glen queried in concern. ‘She looks—’
‘It’s my mother,’ Ruthie interrupted him quickly not wanting to hear him say what she knew he was going to say. Shame and guilt brought an ache of misery to the back of her throat. Why had this had to happen tonight of all nights?
‘Your mom?’ She could hear the shock in Glen’s voice but what else was there with it? Disgust? Horror? Was he regretting saying what he had said to her now?
‘She does this sometimes,’ she told him with quiet dignity. ‘She hasn’t been herself since my father died. And…and sometimes she…she forgets what happened and she goes out looking for him.’ Tears were pricking the backs of her eyes. ‘I must go to her,’ she said, stepping back from him and hurrying into the Close without looking to see if he was standing watching her or if he had turned his back on her and was walking away.
* * *
Myra looked at Nick without saying anything. She wasn’t naïve. She knew exactly what he was suggesting. She also knew that the answer she gave could change her whole life.
‘We can’t do that,’ she told him. ‘It wouldn’t be right.’ She could see the angry impatience in his eyes and added coyly, ‘It would be different if we were going steady, and you’d said that you wanted me to be your girl.’
‘I’ve brought you here to Blackpool, haven’t I?’ Nick challenged her.
‘For all I know you could have a steady girl back home,’ Myra pointed out, ignoring his irritable challenge.
‘If I had then I wouldn’t be here with you, would I?’
‘Some men like to act like they’re free to make up to a girl when they aren’t. And, like I said, if you’d asked me to be your girl before you’d suggested we stay over then it might be different. After all, no girl wants to think of her chap going off to war without her having shown him how much he means to her, does she? Just like no chap who really cares about a girl would ask her to show him how much she cares if he wasn’t serious about them being together for always. I’m not saying that I agree with those couples who fall in love one night and rush out to get a special licence the next, but when there’s a war on, no one wants to wait for their happiness, just in case of what might happen.’
They had stopped dancing and it was obvious to Myra that Nick wasn’t very pleased about what she was saying but she was not going to give in. No way was she going to allow Nick to use her and then leave her. He needed to understand that she wanted to have a future with him; the future he could provide for her – in America. And if he refused to understand and accept that? A fierce surge of determination spiked through her. He must accept it. She could feel Nick watching her, waiting for her to succumb to his silent pressure and change