The Windmill Girls

Rosie shoved her palm into Lenny’s face making him stumble down a few stairs and clutch at the banister.

‘Rosie? Want any tea this evening or are you still sulking up there?’ John Gardiner had come out of the kitchen and ambled along the hallway. He stopped when he saw his daughter and his business associate face to face on the stairs. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded.

‘Nothing, mate, just thought I’d say hello to Rosie being as we used to be school pals.’ Lenny descended the stairs in a cocky, rolling gait, grinning. ‘Let us know when you need a few more of them labels run off. Nice doing business with you. Me dad says hello …’

As the front door slammed shut after Lenny’s departing figure John stared suspiciously at his daughter. ‘Was you misbehaving with him just then?’

Rosie choked a laugh. ‘I can’t stand the creep and I wish you’d tell him not to come here. Anyhow, it ain’t me misbehaving, Dad, is it? It’s you; and if you keep doing business with people like him …’ Rosie jabbed her forehead at the front door. ‘Then you’re gonna be in big trouble.’

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_6c53c6b8-3945-5042-934b-109beff542b2)

‘Are you driving to Surrey to stay at your mum and dad’s tonight?’

‘Is that an invitation to come home with you instead?’

Dawn smiled wryly, moving her cheek against Bill’s pleasantly scratchy jaw as they waltzed to the jazz trio. ‘I don’t think my mum would appreciate seeing you on the couch in your vest first thing in the morning.’

‘If you top the old girl up with gin she’ll be too sozzled to see me at all, arriving or leaving. Then I could bed down upstairs with you,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I’ll happily stump up for a bottle of Gordon’s for your mum and a few beers for that brother of yours, if you agree to me staying over.’

Dawn drew back, frowning at Bill. Sometimes his sense of humour was too black for her to appreciate; that was, of course, assuming he was joking. If he weren’t then she’d be worried …

‘Don’t take it so seriously, darling.’ Bill drew her close again, nuzzling her neck. His hands, stroking at the centre of her back, began massaging closer to her buttocks. ‘Let’s get a room in a hotel, then, if you don’t want to upset your family. I don’t intend driving to Surrey, and I’m damned sure you could do with a break from your set-up in the East End.’

Dawn was fed up with things at home: her mother drove her mad and her brother George’s moodiness was a pain, but she didn’t want Bill rubbing it in simply to get her into bed. Dawn knew he was getting impatient with her because she hadn’t yet agreed to sleep with him. She wasn’t holding out because they’d only known each other for a short while, or because he would be her first real lover. She’d been kissed and caressed by boyfriends but the thought of an unwanted pregnancy was always at the back of her mind, terrifying her when she was aroused and tempted to capitulate. But the main barrier to her throwing caution to the wind with Bill … and he was by far the boyfriend she fancied the most … was Bill himself.

His callous joke about her mother’s alcoholism had added to her niggling doubts that he might not be the right man for her. When they’d first met she’d been sure she’d fallen head over heels for him after the first few dates, but then the giddy pleasure of the newness of it all had faded, removing the blinkers from her eyes.

On the first occasion she’d seen Bill he’d been in the audience at the Windmill Theatre, giving her his undivided attention. He’d sent her a lazy wink, blown her a kiss that had almost put her off her step, and then disappeared at the end of the show, or so Dawn had thought.

She’d been disappointed not to find him amongst the crowd of eager fellows hanging around the stage door, hopeful of chatting up a showgirl. Then she’d spied a man dressed in RAF uniform lounging against a lamppost further along the street, smoking.

As she’d walked towards him Bill had blocked her path, telling her he’d not let her pass till she agreed to go out with him. She’d thought him wonderfully handsome close to and his persistence had excited her. His eyes were startlingly blue and his hair as fair as her own. So she had agreed to meet him the following evening; that had been five months ago, yet although they wrote regularly Dawn realised she’d only been in Bill’s company a handful of times. The war kept them separated, as it did most young couples.

Dawn felt warm fingers fondling her behind and gave her boyfriend a ghost of a smile. Taking his hand she started leading him back to their table before the saxophonist had finished playing. As they weaved through swaying bodies, in half-light, the atmosphere was thick with cigarette smoke and the sultry scent of brandy cocktails. They sat down opposite Bill’s pal. Glenn Rafferty was stationed with Bill and was a squadron leader. Dawn got the impression that it riled Bill that his friend was about the same age but held a higher rank than he did.

Bill had said Glenn had plenty of girls to choose from when he came to London on leave. But this evening he had with him the same girl who’d accompanied him last time, called Tina.

Dawn had been surprised by how different in looks the men were; her boyfriend had the quintessentially fair and dashing looks of a middle-class Englishman, whereas Glenn was dark-haired and tanned and in Dawn’s fanciful opinion might have Romany blood. A gold earring would have completed his startlingly handsome, rather villainous presence.

They’d not planned on meeting up for another double-date this evening; Glenn and Tina had been leaving a bottle party club when Dawn and Bill had bumped into them on Regent Street. They’d entered the Kitkat Club as a foursome.

The last time they’d all been together Tina had acted sullen; she didn’t seem any friendlier this evening although she slid flirtatious glances at Glenn … Bill too, Dawn noticed with a pang of annoyance.

Determined to be friendly, Dawn attempted to draw the young brunette into conversation. ‘Do you live locally, Tina?’

‘Yeah …’

Following her terse reply Tina lifted her port and lemon and took a sip, leaving Dawn thinking she’d had no more luck in having a chat with Glenn’s girlfriend than the last time she’d attempted to make conversation.

‘Gonna dance then, are we?’ Tina nudged Glenn’s arm and pouted him a kiss.

‘Just let me finish this. I’m parched.’ Glenn lifted his glass of beer.

For a man who was thirsty he drank little, Dawn observed with a slight smile, watching Glenn take a single mouthful then replace the tankard. He hadn’t even looked at Tina when she’d spoken to him.

No need to get upset, Dawn told herself as she again noticed Tina’s dark eyes slide Bill’s way. The brunette looked quite young – about nineteen – and was probably testing her powers of attraction on every good-looking fellow she met.

‘I’ll dance with you.’ Bill had taken the hint when Tina continued staring at him and swirling her port and lemon to attract his attention. Discreetly Bill raised his eyebrows at Dawn by way of apology then led Tina towards the thrumming music being belted out by the band.

‘She’s not standoffish … just shy …’

Dawn shot a look at Glenn; it was the first time the two of them had been left alone together to talk. ‘Shy?’ Dawn queried with a snort. She might have toned down her sarcasm had she not noticed, in the light of the flickering candle on the table, a gleam of amusement at the backs of his eyes. Glenn knew as well as she did that Tina was downright rude. And that begged the question: what did Squadron Leader Rafferty see in her? Dawn got her answer quickly enough: young or not, Tina had a very vampish manner. The brunette was dancing cheek to cheek with Bill and a moment later Dawn felt her temper rise as a pair of shapely arms slid about Bill’s neck. Tina’s palms suggestively cupped the back of his head as though she might urge his face down and kiss him. Dawn’s insides writhed in anger. Tina was deliberately making a play for Bill, no doubt to punish Glenn because he wouldn’t dance with her.

‘Shall we give them a run for their money?’

Dawn snapped her eyes back to Glenn who was draining his glass. He pushed to his feet, held out a hand. ‘Come on. Bill’s not stupid … well, not all the time,’ Glenn said very dryly. ‘He didn’t have a lot of choice in it. I’m sure he’d sooner have kept on dancing with you …’

From that Dawn deduced that Glenn was letting her know he’d seen Bill’s hands roving her body a few minutes ago. Well, if Glenn Rafferty thought he could try it on too … he’d find out he was mistaken. He wasn’t going to make Tina jealous by touching her up! Slowly Dawn stood up. Once his long fingers had closed on hers he tugged her behind him onto the small dance floor.

His touch was light and cool and he kept his hands to himself. He moved very well … as well as Bill; but he was a bit taller than her boyfriend, Dawn realised. With Bill she’d no need to stretch her arm so far to rest it on a broad shoulder. Dawn darted glances Bill’s way, trying to get a glimpse of the swaying couple through the crowd.

‘Aren’t you bothered about your girl flirting?’

‘Nope …’

‘Why not?’

‘She’s not my girl,’ Glenn said and suddenly whipped Dawn around so fast in time with the beat that her next words were lost in a gasp.

It was his way of telling her to shut up and mind her own business, she realised. So she did, stiffening in his arms. As though he found her pique a challenge he urged her closer, dropping his head towards hers. As soon as the music faded Dawn pulled away, trying not to make it too obvious that Glenn had succeeded in aggravating her … and more. The pleasant scent of his sandalwood cologne clung to her cheek where their skin had scuffed together. She was the first to sit down; moments later Bill joined her.

‘She’s an odd sort of girl.’ Bill was glancing at the dance floor. Tina had intercepted Glenn before he could leave and they were now waltzing.

‘That’s an understatement,’ Dawn said sourly, taking a long swallow of her drink. ‘She’s rude and arrogant and the most outrageous flirt.’

‘You’re not jealous, are you?’ Bill sounded genuinely surprised. ‘Forget about her, sweetheart; I’ve only got one girl on my mind this evening.’ He leaned forward and slowly tickled her chin. ‘Want another brandy and soda?’

‘I think I’ve had enough, thanks all the same.’ Dawn could feel a warm glow on her cheeks and a cold top lip … sure signs that she’d had too many cocktails! Besides, she suddenly wanted to leave. She knew she had no reason to be jealous but, even so, resented another woman rubbing her nose in it while she flung herself at Bill.

Pulling out a packet of Players, Bill offered one to Dawn then took one himself.

‘She doesn’t have much to say for herself, either,’ Dawn said, dipping her head to the lighted match cupped in Bill’s palm.

‘She seems to have enough to talk about to Glenn.’ Bill drew hard on his cigarette. He sat back in his chair, watching the couple. ‘Probably discussing her price,’ he added caustically.

Dawn shot him a glance. ‘You think she’s a working girl?’

‘’Course she is … those bottle party hostesses are all the same. They’ll charge you a week’s pay for a watered-down beer and a fruit juice for themselves, then they’ll try and get you to stump up again for having the pleasure of their company all night.’ He tapped ash into an empty glass.