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As Time Goes By. Annie GrovesЧитать онлайн книгу.

As Time Goes By - Annie Groves


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      ‘Got two kiddies, haven’t you?’ the man commented, ignoring her.

      Sally felt as though the blood in her veins had turned to ice.

      ‘Seven o’clock, Saturday. Corner of Mitchell Street. Oh, and the Boss said to tell you that her favourite song is “Danny Boy”. I’ll let meself out …’

      Five minutes, that’s all the time it had taken to fill her life with despair. Five minutes …

      She leaned against the door she had just closed, her whole body shaking and her heart pounding with fear.

       SEVEN

      ‘Sam, I feel sorry for little Mouse as well, but being glum isn’t going to do anyone any good,’ Hazel told Sam firmly as they walked back from the showers together. ‘At least she’s bucked up enough to say she wants to come to the Grafton with the rest of us this evening.’

      ‘That’s only because she’s afraid of being left here on her own,’ Sam felt bound to point out, guiltily aware that her lack of good spirits had as much if not more to do with what had happened earlier in the day when Sergeant Johnny Everton had seen fit to haul her over the coals for talking quite innocently to another woman’s husband. She might not be one of the pretty feminine girls who attracted men like bees to honey but that did not mean that she was the desperate, pathetic type who mistook a man’s pleasant good manners for something far more meaningful.

      ‘Well, she’s not the only one who needs a bit of fun to cheer her up,’ Hazel said so pointedly that Sam looked uncertainly at her. ‘I don’t normally believe in talking too much about one’s personal affairs, but since you’re bound to hear about it sooner or later, I may as well come clean and tell you straight out.’ She paused and sighed. ‘Lynsey told me earlier that it’s all off with her current beau so no doubt she’ll be on the lookout for someone to take his place tonight.’ A small shadow crossed her face, and Sam saw her look down at her bare left hand. ‘I wish I had her knack of getting proposals, or at least getting one. The thing is that I’ve been dating my chap for over six months now – he’s Senior Service, and down in Dartmouth at the moment on a course – and I’m getting a bit tired of waiting for him to tell me if we’re going to have a future together. After all, a girl can’t ask a chap outright what his intentions are, can she? He’s expecting to get a new sea posting soon; they’ve made up him to lieutenant,’ she told Sam proudly before sighing again faintly. ‘That’s going to mean I’ll see even less of him. And you know what they say about sailors, especially the handsome ones, which he is. Sometimes I think I’d be better off calling it a day and being fancy free.’

      She looked so despondent that all Sam could do was shake her head and say stoutly, ‘I’m sure things will work out, Hazel.’

      ‘Well, yes, I’m sure they will, but I’d still like a hint of which way. Come on,’ she rallied briskly. ‘We’d better go and make sure that dress of mine will fit you.’

      ‘I don’t mind wearing my uniform, honestly,’ Sam tried to assure her, but she could tell that Hazel wasn’t listening. Perhaps busying herself with organising her for their night out might in part help Hazel to put her worries about her relationship to one side for a little while, Sam acknowledged. And that being the case, didn’t she owe it to the other girl to ignore her own self-consciousness about wearing a dress?

      ‘Oh, Sally love, you look a real treat,’ Doris commented approvingly when she arrived to baby- sit. ‘Mind you,’ she pursed her lips and put her head to one side, studying Sally’s slender silhouette in the dark blue satin frock that Molly had virtually remade for Sally from an old dress bought from the Red Cross, ‘you could do with a bit more weight on your bones. You don’t want to start looking haggard. Not that you’re likely to, a bonny young girl like you,’ she added fondly.

      Sharp tears stung Sally’s eyes. She didn’t know what was the matter with her these days. Just the slightest thing seemed to set her off feeling all emotional, be it kind words or cruel ones. It was plain daft acting all soppy and silly at her age, especially when she was the mother of two boys. How were they going to grow up confident like boys should be with a mother who was spouting tears all the time? And how were they going to grow up with a father who gambled and got into debt? She mustn’t think like that, Sally told herself as she hugged Doris.

      ‘You’re all sorted out for your kiddies’ party now, are you?’ Doris asked.

      ‘Yes, thanks to you and Molly,’ Sally smiled. ‘Daisy came over earlier and said that she’d make up a couple of plates of sandwiches for the kids. She said she’d let me have a tin of fruit as well. I thought I’d put it in a jelly – I can make it go a bit further that way. Molly’s dad said he’d paint up them toy soldiers your Frank gave me – I’ve told Molly I’ll make sure she gets them back if this new baby is a boy.’

      ‘It’s hard on the kiddies having to grow up in this war, bless ’em,’ Doris said quietly.

      ‘I’ve got to go,’ Sally told her, calling over her shoulder as she hurried down the hallway, ‘I’ll be back around half twelve as usual.’

      No, she shouldn’t think badly of Ronnie, not with him being where he was, she told herself fiercely as she stepped out into the street, her heart thumping. Sometimes she missed him so much she could hardly bear her longing to see him, whilst at other times she felt so angry with him that she couldn’t bear the thought of ever seeing him again. One thing she did know was that he wouldn’t have meant to leave her with all this mess, but he could be such a softie, for all that he was a soldier.

      The continual dull ache of her anxiety for him since she had been told he had been taken prisoner when Singapore had surrendered, which she had banked down as best she could, unexpectedly burst into a surge of panic and fear. No one wanted to talk about it openly but everyone had heard the horribly graphic reports coming out of the Far East of the way the Japanese treated their prisoners. She had read about it herself in Picture Post, and only the other day another woman had broken down on her shift and said that she almost wished her son had been killed outright rather than her having to think about what might be happening to him.

      Sally broke into a faster walk. Sometimes there were things it just didn’t do to think about.

      Hazel’s rueful, ‘Oh dear’ as she finished fastening the last of the white buttons, which ran from the square neckline of the cornflower-blue and white floral frock she was loaning Sam to just short of the hem of its flared skirt, confirmed all of Sam’s own worst fears. She obviously looked every bit as dreadful in the dress as she had feared, despite the fact that it was very pretty, and should have suited her fair colouring.

      ‘Lynsey, May, come and look at this,’ she called without taking her gaze off Sam. Obediently the other girls came over and, like Hazel, stood in front of Sam and frowned.

      ‘It’s me,’ Sam told them desperately. Her face was so hot she felt sure it must be the colour of a tomato. ‘I’m just not frock person. They don’t suit me.’

      ‘It’s the waist, that’s what it is,’ Lynsey announced, totally ignoring Sam. ‘She’s a lot smaller than you, Hazel. Put a belt round her waist to pull it in a bit and it will be fine, won’t it, May?’

      ‘Have you got a belt, Sam?’ Hazel asked. ‘A white one would be best.’

      Sam shook her head.

      ‘I’ve got one,’ Mouse suddenly piped up, surprising them all. ‘I’ve got a cousin who used to work in a dress shop before the war and she gave it to me.’

      ‘Let’s have a look at it then, Mouse,’ May encouraged.

      When Mouse handed over a wide white patent leather belt she had all the girls oohing with envy.

      ‘I can’t wear that,’ Sam protested. Somehow the belt epitomised


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