The Light Over London(7)

“It’s what all the film stars do.”

“American film stars. Not girls who’ve never set foot out of Cornwall.”

Kate twisted, draping herself over the counter so that her blond hair fell in thick waves over the polished wood. “Lord, what I wouldn’t give to be in Hollywood.” She flipped around again and leveled a look at Louise. “You never answered my question.”

“What was that?”

“What are you doing after you finish the accounts, which you clearly have already started?”

“I suppose I’ll go home and have dinner with my parents,” said Louise with a shrug. It sounded just as uninspired as it felt.

Kate flashed her a grin. “Come to the dance with me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” said Louise immediately.

“You don’t even know where I want us to go.”

Louise didn’t have to know. Wherever it was, she could be absolutely certain that Kate would swan in, head held high, and immediately find herself swarmed by men. One would want to light her cigarette, two would push and shove to fetch her a drink, and four would fight each other for the first turn around the floor, showing off with a mock fox-trot danced with an imaginary girl in their arms. And through it all Louise would stand, hands clasped behind her back, too shy to initiate a conversation and feeling ridiculous for longing to be brought into their fold.

Louise probably should’ve resented her cousin for her ease with men, but that was impossible. Generous to a fault, Kate would be bursting with happiness if one of her admirers took a shine to Louise. But her cousin couldn’t begin to understand what it was like to go through life without every door falling open. If Kate wanted, her feet would never touch the ground.

Louise, on the other hand, was decidedly earthbound. She’d been told all her life that she was quiet, reserved, small, until one day it became impossible to imagine how all of those things couldn’t be true.

“I don’t need to know where you want to go,” said Louise, sweeping imaginary grains of sugar off the scale with a cloth. “I just know that I’ll find it a bore.”

Kate scowled. “Don’t be such a spoilsport. It’s just a dance. A Valentine’s dance.”

“I don’t dance,” said Louise.

Kate laughed. “I know for a fact that isn’t true. I’ve seen you waltz before. You were quite good at it.”

“With your brother. It was hardly thrilling.”

“That’s only because you haven’t had the chance to dance it with the right partner,” said Kate with a grin. “Come with me.”

Louise shook her head, her hand shooting up to push back in one of her plastic tortoiseshell combs that was threatening to slip out of her hair.

“Please?”

Louise narrowed her eyes. “Why are you being so insistent?”

“Because you deserve a bit of fun, darling.” Kate dropped her gaze. “And Mum said I could only go if I was with you.”

“Why?” Louise asked warily.

Kate sighed. “Oh, who knows for certain.”

“Kate . . .”

Her cousin huffed. “Mrs. Lovell saw Geri Parker kissing an airman on the road out of Trebelzue last Saturday. Now Mum won’t let me go anywhere with Geri or anyone else. She says my judgment is compromised.”

“And is it?” Louise asked.

Kate turned her nose up and said primly, “I might kiss the boys, but if they think there’ll be any more than that, they’re sorely mistaken.”

“And why am I acceptable to Aunt Claire?” Louise asked.

“Because you’re you.” Kate shrugged.

Because they all know I would never do something as daring as kiss an airman on a lane in full view of who knows who.

The thought was thoroughly depressing.

“Okay then.”

Kate looked up with a start. “What?”

Louise crumpled the rag she’d been clutching and threw it on the counter. “Fine, we’ll go. Where is it?”

“The Village Hall in Saint Mawgan. Oh, darling, you won’t regret it one bit!” her cousin gushed.

“Saint Mawgan? We’ll have to take the bus,” Louise said.

“It’s best to cycle,” said Kate with great authority. “At least if it’s not raining. That way we don’t have to stand by the bus stop for an age. We can leave whenever we want.”

“And stay as long as we like?” Louise asked.

“Exactly. Now, what will you wear?”

Louise shoved the errant comb back into place again. “I don’t really know. My green wool is probably best.”

Kate wrinkled her nose at that. “You wore that to the concert at the village hall two months ago and it was a full two inches too short in the hem then.”

“I’m nineteen. I doubt I’ve grown since then. Besides, how many people from Haybourne will be there to notice that I’ve worn it again, and will any of them really care?” she asked.

“No, but there will be airmen there.”

“Who will spend the entire evening looking at you.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Kate. “I promise you more partners than you can dance with.”

Louise laughed, knowing full well that her cousin was only being generous.