The Light Over London(11)

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Kate, but she’d gone back to twirling curls to reshape them.

Louise pulled her lipstick out of her purse and applied it to the bow of her lips. When she looked down, Kate was holding a tissue out. She took it and blotted.

“Ready?” Kate asked.

Not at all, but she nodded nonetheless.

They dropped their coats off and walked into the hall. Although it was only quarter past seven, the dance floor was already crowded with couples. There were a few very young men in sweaters and collared shirts, but most were in uniform, just as her mother had feared.

“Kate!” A handsome man with short blond hair who wore the dark blue service dress of the Royal Air Force gave a wave as he called out from near the pinewood bar.

“Come on,” Kate said, snatching up Louise’s hand and pulling her through the crowd.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you,” said the man with a crooked grin.

“Is that right, Tommy Poole?” Kate asked with a toss of her head.

“Of course it is.”

“Then what’s this I hear about you using your leave to take Irene Walker to tea last Tuesday?”

“Looks like she’s caught you, Poole,” said another man with a Lancashire accent who’d turned to watch their approach. “Where’s Geri, Kate?”

“Not here,” said Kate primly.

“And who’s this?” asked a third man, who had a redheaded girl named Joanne whom Louise recognized from school hanging on his arm.

“This,” said Kate, pushing Louise slightly forward, “is my cousin Louise Keene. You should all dance with her tonight if you want to make me happy.”

“Come on then, Louise Keene,” said the man who’d asked after Geri, offering her his arm. “You’ve a much better chance of making it around that dance floor without having your toes stepped on with me than Poole or Davidson.”

“We haven’t been introduced,” she said, cringing immediately at how like her mother she sounded.

“This isn’t an audience with the queen. No need for introductions,” he teased. “But since you asked, I’m Sergeant Martin Taylor.”

“A pleasure,” she said, taking his hand and feeling slightly ridiculous at the little laugh he gave before gamely shaking it. “Shouldn’t we wait until the next song?”

“We’ll just shove our way in. More’s the merrier,” he said.

She glanced at Kate, who nodded slightly, excitement shining in her clear blue eyes. A few moments in the hall and already Louise had an invitation to dance. Perhaps the night would be a lark after all. Taking a deep breath, Louise placed her hand in the crook of Martin’s elbow and let him lead her to the edge of the dance floor.

It took them a few moments to find a gap in the fox-trotting crowd large enough to squeeze in, and when they did, she could feel herself pressed uncomfortably close to him. She looked up, wondering if he’d noticed, but his gaze was fixed on a point somewhere over her shoulder. She craned her neck and spotted Kate.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Louise asked.

Martin smiled sheepishly. “Your Kate has half the men at Trebelzue in love with her.”

“It was the same way in school.”

“What about you?” asked Martin, shuffling them around a couple counting cautious steps.

“Me?” asked Louise.

“Come on then, no need to be coy.”

“I’m not being coy. I’m not the type of girl who attracts that sort of attention.”

Martin laughed. “I bet you are and you don’t even know it.”

“I hardly think so. I spent most of my childhood sitting in an apple tree in the front garden with a book.”

“Well, that’s it then. Probably had all of the boys in the neighborhood walking by and wondering if you’d ever look at them.”

The idea was so ridiculous she had to laugh, her shoulders coming down from around her ears as she did.

“There we are,” he said. “No woman should look so serious when dancing with me.”

“Do you have such a high opinion of your dancing abilities?”

“The Charmer of Chorley, that’s what they call me. Fastest feet in fifty miles.”

“I’m sure they do.”

“You’re a good one, Louise Keene.”

She dipped her head in thanks. “It’s a shame then that you’re in love with my cousin.”

“Ah well, everyone’s in love with the wrong person during this war, I reckon. Maybe you’ll find one of those neighborhood boys getting up the courage to ask you to dance tonight.”

“I doubt that very much,” she said as the music ended. “Most of them are off fighting like you.”

“An airman then,” he said with a wink. “Plenty of us here.”

She blushed. “I don’t know that a uniform would suit me.”

“A uniform always suits so long as the right man’s wearing it. Come on then.” He threaded her hand through his arm and led her back to Davidson and Poole, who were watching mournfully as Kate danced with a man with officer’s stripes on his sleeve. Next to them another man stood lighting a cigarette, yet despite his proximity, he seemed to hold himself somehow apart.