The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(47)

‘I say, I’m impressed,’ Laura exclaimed. ‘How clever of you, Elliott, to discover a place like this. Can’t think how I missed it.’

‘Oh, some of the chaps from Barts introduced me to it,’ he said. ‘I like to come here whenever I’m in town. What can I get you ladies? The band will come on in a minute and then the place will be packed. Here, you take this table.’ He reached across and took an extra chair so there would be room for all of them.

‘Cocktail please!’ said Laura at once. ‘I don’t mind which, surprise me.’

‘Lemonade for me,’ said Marjorie, but then shook her head. ‘Oh, what the heck. A martini.’

‘A shandy,’ said Kitty, sticking to what had become her favourite. Elliott even talked differently when he was with Laura, she thought. It was as if they shared a common language, that of the wealthy, who were accustomed to nights out in the capital city. She felt left out. She didn’t like it at all. It brought up all her anxieties about him – why had he chosen her, when he could have had anyone of his own class? Last night it hadn’t seemed to matter and she had revelled in his company and fitting in with his circle. Now she felt all that shatter. Her fragile new-found confidence evaporated. Laura was his type and she wasn’t, that was all there was to it.

‘Penny for ’em,’ Laura said to her now. ‘I say, Elliott’s a dark horse, isn’t he? You never said he could get us into places like this.’

‘I didn’t know,’ said Kitty, wondering if her doubts were evident in her voice. But Laura didn’t seem to notice.

‘I can’t wait for the band to come on,’ her friend continued. ‘I bet the dancing here will be tremendous. Do you think he might give me a spin?’

‘I’m sure he will,’ said Kitty, certain that Elliott would like nothing better than to take to the dance floor with the glamorous Laura. They would look perfect together. Even her hair would make the ideal contrast with his, which Kitty’s own didn’t. She had been an idiot to imagine they’d come out and he’d want to stay at her side all evening. She would just have to steel herself against the inevitable disappointment. She wouldn’t show how she felt; she wouldn’t spoil everyone else’s evening by making a scene.

‘Kitty, are you all right?’ Elliott had returned from the bar with the drinks and sat down beside her. He gazed at her with concern. ‘You seem very quiet. Here, have some of this. Doctor’s orders.’ He smiled warmly at her as he set the half of shandy on the little table with its spindly metal legs.

‘Thank you,’ said Kitty, obediently taking a sip. It didn’t taste as good as it usually did. She realised he was waiting for an answer. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, I’m just a bit hot, that’s all.’

She was saved from saying more by the arrival of the band on the stage, smart in sharply pressed suits, their instruments gleaming. A cheer went up around the room and several couples rushed to take their places on the dance floor.

‘Well, if you’re hot, maybe Elliott wouldn’t mind if I borrowed him?’ Laura asked, clearly desperate to be one of the first to dance. ‘Sorry, Elliott, you’ll think me dreadfully forward.’

Yes, exactly, said Kitty sadly to herself, keeping her thoughts from her face with some difficulty.

‘Not at all,’ said Elliott gallantly, rising to his feet. ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, Kitty?’

‘Of course not,’ said Kitty. She looked down at her drink so they wouldn’t see her expression.

The music began and the dancers started to move, some ineptly but most with assured rhythm, making it all seem effortless. The musicians were top class, filling the room with an infectious tune, and everyone began to tap their feet. Elliott was in his element, spinning Laura around at exactly the right moment, and Kitty remembered the wonderful sensation of being in his arms, seeming to float as he skilfully led her through the moves. He had made her feel as if she too was a dance champion – that was the skill of the true expert. With a sinking heart she acknowledged that Laura was a wonderful dancer and the combination of the two of them was well nigh flawless.

‘They’re awfully good, aren’t they,’ breathed Marjorie. ‘I knew Laura was, of course, but when she’s got a proper partner, she’s like something out of a film.’

‘You’re right,’ said Kitty, struggling to get the words out.

‘You never said Elliott was such a good dancer,’ Marjorie went on, oblivious to her friend’s distress.

‘He was a champion when he was a medical student,’ Kitty told her. ‘Him and his fiancée.’

‘Oh, was he engaged?’ Marjorie asked, curious. ‘What happened? Was it the war?’

‘No, she died before it began,’ said Kitty, twisting the sleeve of her bolero on her lap. ‘She was his professor’s daughter.’ The sort of girl he should be with, she thought despondently. One who could keep up with him on the dance floor and in any conceivable social situation. Not like her. She gulped down the rest of her drink, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but here.

Marjorie finally took the hint and didn’t press her with any more questions. After what seemed like an eternity, the tune ended and some of the couples broke away and returned to their seats. Laura led Elliott back to the table, but was claimed by a tall man in a naval uniform before she could sit down.