The Pearl Locket: A page-turning saga that will have you hooked. Kathleen McGurl

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СКАЧАТЬ here I am,’ the airman said, winking at her. He took her glass out of her hand and put it on a nearby table, then scooped her into his arms and whirled her onto the dance floor. Joan laughed and gasped, trying desperately to keep up with his lightning-fast dance steps. She couldn’t believe this was happening—she was dancing with the best-looking man in the room!

      ‘What’s your name?’ he asked her.

      ‘Joan. What’s yours?’

      ‘Ah, Joan, Joan you’ll make me moan,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’m Freddie, and always at the ready.’

      She giggled, and he pulled her in tighter. She saw Mags, Noreen and Mary dancing with a group of soldiers. Mags caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. She looked as though she disapproved of Joan’s dance partner. Well, it wasn’t up to her, was it? Joan was enjoying herself. Freddie was handsome and funny, and seemed to really like her. She was determined to make the most of her evening out.

      The music ended, and Freddie let her go. ‘I’ll get you some refreshments,’ he said. ‘Don’t go away.’

      A moment later he was back with an iced drink for her. She sipped it gratefully. ‘What is this?’

      ‘G and T,’ he said. ‘Mostly T though, so don’t worry. I’m not trying to get you drunk.’

      Joan had never had an alcoholic drink before. It was quite pleasant, she thought. She gulped it down.

      ‘Nice, eh? Here, have mine as well.’ Freddie handed her his own glass.

      ‘Let’s dance some more,’ Joan said. ‘It’s such fun!’

      ‘I’ve a better idea,’ he said. ‘We’ll dance again later but for now let’s find somewhere quiet where we can sit and get to know each other better. Finish that drink quickly. I know where we can go.’ He took her hand and pulled her towards the cloakrooms. Joan giggled as she knocked back her drink and followed him. He pushed open a door that led into a narrow corridor with other doors leading off.

      ‘Where are we?’ she asked.

      ‘Backstage of the theatre. There’s nothing playing tonight. Come on, in here.’ He opened a door and pulled her into a dressing room, flicking on the light switch. ‘That’s better. We can properly get to know each other now. Come here, beautiful.’

      Joan looked around her at the tatty room, with its smells of greasepaint and powder. There was a worn sofa against one wall, opposite a dressing table. Freddie sat on the sofa and pulled her gently down beside him. He put an arm around her shoulders, and with his other hand, stroked her cheek.

      ‘There, now. This is cosy, isn’t it?’ he said. He leaned towards her and kissed her gently.

      She was being kissed! Her first time, and by such a handsome fellow! But what would Mags say? Was she being too forward? She tentatively kissed him back, and he must have taken this as encouragement because his kiss became more urgent, and his hand slid down from her face, over her neck and shoulder, and onto her breast. Suddenly he thrust her roughly back on the sofa and lay on top of her, kissing her harshly.

      No, this wasn’t what she wanted! She turned her head away and tried to push him off, but he was too heavy and strong.

      ‘Stop it, Freddie, oh please stop it. Can’t we go back and dance now?’

      ‘Aw, sweetheart, I only want a kiss. That’s not too much to ask, is it? My leave finishes tomorrow then I’m back to the war. You wouldn’t deny a poor airman his last bit of fun, would you? Not when he’s putting his life on the line for you?’ He kissed her again, his mouth hard against hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

      ‘Stop it! I shall scream!’

      ‘Aw, no you won’t. Just relax; enjoy it,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

      But he was hurting her. He was lying on top of her, his elbow digging into her ribs and his stubble scratching her cheeks as he continued to kiss her.

      ‘Get off her, you thug! Get off! Off!’ It was the boy with the broken glasses, his hair flopping over his eyes as he burst through the door, hauled Freddie off her, and landed a punch on his nose.

      ‘Ow, you little shit. What did you do that for? Me and my girl were just getting comfortable.’ Freddie clutched at his bleeding nose and spat on the floor.

      ‘She didn’t look very comfortable to me. Get out, and leave her alone.’

      ‘Oh yeah? Who’s going to make me?’

      ‘I am. Now get out before I hit you again!’ The boy squared up to Freddie. He was a little taller, but not as well built. Nevertheless there must have been something in his eyes that made Freddie think the better of taking him on, for he spat again and took a step towards the door.

      ‘She’s nothing but a tease. Maybe you’ll get more out of her, mate,’ he said, as he slammed the door behind him.

      ‘Are you all right?’ said the boy, extending a hand to pull Joan up from the sofa.

      She nodded, stood and straightened her clothing. ‘Thank you. I shouldn’t have come with him.’

      ‘I saw him pull you out of the dance hall and thought you might be in trouble. Are you sure you’re all right? Can I get your friend for you?’

      Mags. How would she tell her how stupid she’d been? She wouldn’t. Not unless she had to. If Mags hadn’t seen her leave with Freddie maybe she could get away with not saying anything.

      ‘She’s my sister. But it’s all right. You’ve been very kind. I’ll freshen up now and then go back to the dance hall. I hope that airman has gone home.’

      The boy nodded. ‘I hope so, too. But I’ll keep an eye out, just in case.’ He held the door open for her and followed her back along the corridor towards the cloakrooms. Joan ducked into the ladies room, and when she came out, he was no longer around. She felt a pang of guilt—he’d rescued her but she hadn’t even asked him his name.

       Chapter Three

      August 2014

      The day after moving day, a Saturday, dawned fresh and clear, cool for the time of year but sunny, with the promise of warmth later on once the sun was higher. Thank goodness for that, thought Ali. They could get on with sorting out the house, emptying boxes and filling cupboards. Though if it got too hot she knew she would just want to take a picnic rug and a book down to the beach for the afternoon. Well, maybe if they made good progress she could do that—start as she meant to go on, now that she lived so close to the sea. Might as well make the most of it while they lived here, however long that would be.

      She was busy in the kitchen, unpacking endless boxes of kitchen utensils and deciding which of the many shiny new cupboards they should go in. Pete certainly hadn’t skimped on cupboard space when refitting it. He’d done a great job. Now, he was trying to get the TV and hard-disk recorder to work and the kids were upstairs organising their respective rooms. The radio was on, playing cheerful Saturday morning music, the sun was shining in through the window and, all in all, life was pretty good.

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