The Windmill Girls. Kay Brellend
have supper in a corner house, but since we met I only go to dances with you.’ Dawn snuggled up to him.
She looked up at the stars. She was glad that the war hadn’t frightened people into huddling indoors behind blackout curtains. ‘Two fingers up to Hitler,’ she murmured tipsily to herself with a smile. ‘Up there it’s been a quiet night; please God it stays that way.’
‘I’ll drink to that …’ Bill drew her arm through his and they strolled on. ‘Sure you don’t fancy another bevy? The night’s still young.’
Dawn kissed his cheek in thanks. ‘No … sleepy …’ She hugged into him again.
Suddenly Bill backed Dawn against a wall and kissed her tenderly. ‘I really want you to wait for me, you know. When this bloody war’s over I’ve got important things to say to you, sweetheart. But I don’t want to promise you anything now when I don’t know if I’ll be around next week, let alone next year.’
‘Don’t say that!’ Dawn whispered, touching a finger to his lips. ‘I pray for your safe return every day … and the war might soon fizzle out …’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Not much chance of that happening, eh?’
Bill caressed her cheek with a finger. ‘Let’s go and find a hotel … please. I need you so much …’
‘I can’t, Bill!’ Dawn said softly. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to …’ She put a hand to her forehead. ‘Oh, I don’t know what I want …’
‘Well let me show you,’ he urged huskily. ‘I swear I won’t ever hurt you; I know I’ve fallen for you, Dawn, in a big way …’ He kissed her again with passionate pressure.
‘I feel the same about you but …’ Dawn frowned, feeling warm and cosy from his closeness and the brandy cocktails she’d had in the Kitkat Club. She was swayed to agree to go with him just so she could revel a while longer in the lovely muzzy sensation in her head. The word yes froze on her lips and Dawn almost jumped out of her skin. Usually she was primed for that eerie sound but tonight, submerged in a sensual daze, it had come as a complete surprise. She heard Bill curse beneath his breath as they gazed at the skies, listening. Bill grabbed her hand and tugged her into a run towards Oxford Circus underground station as the drone of aeroplane engines became louder.
About to descend the steps Bill pulled Dawn around to face him. ‘Saved by the siren?’ he asked, his vivid eyes demanding an honest answer from her.
Dawn smiled and went ahead of him, merging into the throng of people.
‘Got a mo, Dawn?’
‘Yes … of course … how are you, Gertie?’
‘So-so,’ Gertie said evasively.
Dawn had just arrived at the Windmill Theatre and had been stopped by the cleaner at the top of the stairs leading to the basement dressing rooms. Dawn hadn’t seen Gertie for a while, and she realised that the older woman didn’t seem her usual cheerful self. Gertie had been off work nursing a sick child who’d gone down with bronchitis, so she’d heard. Dawn had her own ideas on what else might have been keeping Gertie occupied at home: the woman had found out her brother was a deserter and a suspected murderer. To cap it all, Rufus might have owned up to his wife that he’d been going looting with his brother-in-law, and an almighty row had probably erupted.
Poor Gertie! Dawn realised the men in Gertie’s family must be a constant burden on her. Then she had the four little boys to deal with too!
Dawn drew aside to let a couple of dancers wearing exercise shorts and shirts pass by and clatter down the stairs towards the dressing room. She sensed that Gertie wouldn’t want their conversation overheard.
‘Last time I saw you, you said you’d seen my brother Michael,’ Gertie began as soon as the chorus girls had disappeared.
‘I couldn’t be absolutely sure it was him ’cos I don’t really know him,’ Dawn said neutrally.
‘I think you know now you did see him,’ Gertie replied. ‘And so do I, ’cos I asked Rufus about it and he owned up to Midge being around. I’ve not seen me brother in months,’ she added quickly. ‘But you have. You saw ’em at work, didn’t you.’ Gertie slid a look at Dawn from beneath her lashes. ‘Yeah … I do know what me husband gets up to – but I ain’t his keeper,’ she added defensively. ‘Not saying it’s right to go bomb-chasing … but it’s wartime, ain’t it, and people don’t always act normal. They just get by.’ Gertie suddenly clammed up on that front.
‘But … what about your brother deserting?’ Dawn asked; she understood some of Gertie’s blunt philosophy, but not all of it.
‘Don’t know nothing about it, as I said, ain’t seen Midge in ages. But yesterday we had some Navy bigwigs come round looking for him, so he’s gone AWOL alright.’ Gertie’s head dropped close to her chest. ‘Really bad thing about it is, seems a sailor by the name of Jack Chivers was found dead about the same time Michael disappeared.’ Gertie wiped her moist eyes with the back of her hand. ‘’Course me and Rufus had to lie and tell them we thought he’d sailed ’cos it wouldn’t be right if he was arrested on a murder charge. He might be a deserter but he’s no killer! Stake me life on it!’ Gertie shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t hurt a fly …’ She knew that was stretching the truth so shut up.
‘Sorry, Gertie, to have to tell you this, but Michael was aggressive with us. When we ran off he and Rufus chased us ’cos we’d seen them breaking the shop window and stealing the stuff from the outfitters.’
‘We?’ Gertie croaked, pulling out a handkerchief to dab her eyes.
‘A girl was with me. It’s an odd coincidence, but Rosie now works at the Windmill too.’
‘I’ve not met her.’ Gertie shoved her hanky back up her sleeve. ‘Does this Rosie know all about the looters being my family?’
‘No … and I’m not going to tell her ’cos we just want to forget all about it. I’m not saying I wasn’t angry to see those selfish buggers stealing …’ Dawn pressed together her lips, feeling enough had been said on it all. She didn’t want to end up having an argument with Gertie. ‘Look, I’ve more important things on my mind, Gertie, and Rosie feels the same way. I expect you do too …’
‘You’re a good sort, Dawn,’ Gertie mumbled. ‘Sorry for snapping your head off that time, but I didn’t know then what I know now. I really thought me brother was on his way overseas.’
Dawn shrugged. ‘My mum often sticks up for me or George when we don’t deserve it.’
Gertie suddenly burst into tears, using a sleeve to shield her eyes. ‘You’ll keep it all to yourself, won’t you, Dawn?’ she snuffled.
‘’Course … said so, didn’t I?’ She put an arm round Gertie’s shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s go and make a pot of tea before we get cracking on the new routines.’
‘What costumes you wearing today?’ Gertie asked with a bright sniff.
‘We’re pixies, for a couple of matinees.’
‘Kids’ll love that,’ Gertie said. ‘Shame that sour-faced Olive don’t bring her boys home and treat them to a show once in a while.’
‘You managing to keep yer head down then?’ Rufus Grimes flicked down the queen of hearts. Midge trumped it with a king and, grinning, pocketed his winnings.
Rufus scowled as he saw his cash disappearing into his brother-in-law’s pocket.
‘Yeah … not had no trouble so far.’ Midge sat back, stretching out his short legs. He yanked down the brim of the cap he wore as though to conceal his features.
Rufus could have laughed: in his opinion if Midge wanted to disguise himself he’d be better off wearing a pair of stilts.
‘So, you and Gertie come up with a good story, did you, when the Navy