The Letter (7 page)

‘Hello, Leo’, greeted Chrissie, ruffling the dog’s ears. She opened the squeaky garden gate for him, but he leapt over the wall instead and ran down the path to the front door. She could hear her parents talking in the kitchen and her heart sank a little. It was only tea-time but she wanted to start getting ready for the dance. She wanted to set her hair in curlers, which would take at least an hour and could not be done with her parents still in the house.

Chrissie entered the kitchen and tried to sound casual.

‘What time are you going out?’

‘Good evening to you too, Chrissie’ replied Mrs Skinner. ‘Everything alright with the deliveries?’

‘What? Oh, yes, fine, except my chain came off again.’

She pointed to her oily socks.

‘Your father will put it back on tomorrow, won’t you, Samuel?’

Dr Skinner stubbed out his cigarette and lit up another. ‘It’s about time you learnt to take better care of that bike. If it’s not the chain, it’s a puncture or the damn brakes.’

‘Father, it’s not my fault…’

Mrs Skinner pressed her finger to her own lips and glared at Chrissie, who stopped abruptly.

She turned to her husband. ‘Now, now Samuel, don’t be grumpy. Why don’t you take a bath and I will bring you up a whisky?’

‘Good idea, I think I will. I’m so tired I might give this dinner dance a miss tonight.’

Chrissie felt a sudden rush of panic at this news and held her breath. Sylvia would be round to call for her in a couple of hours.

Mabel Skinner ushered her husband out of the kitchen and followed him upstairs. ‘You’ll feel much better after a bath, and anyway I’ve bought that new dress now, haven’t I? It would be a shame to waste it.’

Chrissie breathed a sigh of relief and called after her mother.

‘What’s for tea?’

Her mother’s muffled reply floated down the stairs.

‘Just get yourself some bread and jam, will you? Your father and I will be eating at the dance.’

Charming,
thought Chrissie, as she carved herself a thick slice of bread and slathered it with butter, slipping a piece to the ever-patient Leo who was drooling at her side.

Finally, her parents left for the evening, but not before issuing her with instructions.
Don’t forget to update the patients’ records from today’s surgery, make a list of all the patients who still owe money for medicine, and take Leo for a last walk around ten o’ clock.
Chrissie was practically pushing them out of the door by the time they had finished.

‘I won’t. Have a good time.’

‘Be good now,’ warned Dr Skinner as he took his wife’s arm and led her down the path. ‘We’ll be back around half past midnight, I expect.’

Chrissie watched until they were out of sight and then quickly closed the door and bounded up the stairs two at a time. By the time the doorbell went, Chrissie had bathed, set her hair and changed into the only decent dress she owned. She opened the front door a little, was relieved to see it was Sylvia, and opened it just wide enough for her to slip inside.

‘You weren’t followed, were you?’ asked Chrissie in hushed tones.

Sylvia rolled her eyes. ‘We’re going to a dance, not enrolling in the Secret Service, now out of my way while I have a look at you.’

Sylvia looked her friend up and down and appraised her appearance.

‘Not bad. You could do with a little rouge and some lipstick though.’

‘Oh, I’m not sure. I don’t want to look like a clown.’

‘Look at my face,’ she commanded. ‘Do
I
look like a clown?’

Chrissie scoured her friend’s heavily made up face. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched and blackened with kohl, her skin was pale and flawless, making her bright ruby lips the centre of attention. It was a look that Chrissie could never hope to carry off, but Sylvia did it effortlessly and there was no way Chrissie was going to attempt to compete.

‘Of course not, Syl, but you’re so much more sophisticated than I am. You’re tall, elegant, confident…’

Syl held up her hand. ‘And you are.... pretty and sweet, like a little golden-haired doll.’

Chrissie wasn’t sure this was such a great compliment, but she said thanks anyway.

‘Maybe I’d better have some lipstick then.’

‘Good girl,’ said Syl, opening her handbag.

‘Oh no, not yours. It’s too… you know… well, it’s not me. I’ll just run upstairs and see what my mother has.’

Chrissie returned moments later, her lips shining with a pale pink lipstick which seemed to garner Syl’s approval.

‘Much better,’ she proclaimed. ‘Now come on, we have got some serious dancing to do.’ She opened the door and trotted off down the path.

‘I need to be back by midnight,’ warned Chrissie, hurrying after her.

The Buccaneer Dance Hall was only half full when the girls arrived and people hadn’t really begun to dance. Regardless of this fact, the band continued to play and Sylvia suggested they bought themselves a drink while the place filled up. After only a couple of minutes, Sylvia nudged Chrissie rather painfully in the ribs.

‘Ow, what was that for?’

‘SShh. Look at those two, just walked in.’

Chrissie turned her head to look at a couple of young men who were now striding over to the bar.

‘The tall one is absolutely gorgeous, don’t you think? He’s mine.’

Chrissie had to agree. He was rather exotic-looking and she knew he wouldn’t look once, let alone twice at her. ‘Great,’ said Chrissie, ‘I prefer the look of his friend anyway. He has a kind face, but he looks so nervous and unsure of himself, just like me!’

‘Shall I ask them to join us?’

Chrissie was horrified. ‘But shouldn’t we wait for them to ask us? I mean, it would be so forward.’

‘Alright,’ conceded Sylvia. ‘I’ll give them another half hour and then I’m going over.’

She crossed her long legs and pulled up her skirt a little as the two young men walked past. Chrissie shook her head and stared intently at her drink. Her friend really was incorrigible.

The dance floor began to fill up and Sylvia noticed that the two young men had not strayed from their position near the bar, when suddenly the taller one pointed over in their direction. Sylvia wasted not one second as she caught his eye.

‘Come on, Chrissie,’ she said. ‘It’s time.’

Sylvia sashayed across the room with Chrissie trailing in her wake.

The young men introduced themselves as Billy and Clark and Sylvia immediately arrested Billy on to the dance floor.

‘Shall we sit down?’ ventured Clark, pulling a chair out for Chrissie. ‘Can I get you another drink?’

‘No thanks, I still have this one,’ replied Chrissie.

‘Your friend’s a great dancer,’ said Clark.

‘So’s yours.’

‘What, Billy? Yeah, he’s had plenty of practice. I don’t think any girl has ever refused him a dance.’

Chrissie noticed the melancholy in Clark’s eyes. ‘Never mind about Billy, tell me about you.’

‘Me?’ Clark look astonished. ‘Well, what do you want to know?’

Chrissie realised that he was actually more nervous than she was, and this relaxed her a little.

Chrissie shrugged. ‘Well, where are you from? Not from round here by the sound of it.’

‘I was born in Birmingham but came to live in Manchester when I was about seven. I met Billy at school and we’ve been friends ever since. I used to get teased at school because I spoke differently to everybody else, but Billy stuck up for me and, as he was the most popular lad in the class, they all listened to him. My school days would have been awful without him. In turn, I helped him with his reading and would sometimes do his homework for him. Not that he’s thick or anything, you understand, he was just always so busy with his sport and everything that he never really gave much thought to his studies. His mother spoils him rotten too. That lad can run rings round anyone.’

Chrissie glanced at Billy and Syl on the dance floor. He seemed distracted and kept glancing over at their table. When he saw Chrissie looking, he gave her a small smile and she felt her neck flush. She looked away in embarrassment.

‘It looks like he’s met his match with Syl.’

‘Oh, he’ll be alright. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? Billy always gets the best-looking ones.’

Chrissie stared into Clark’s blue eyes and waited for him to realise what he had just said.

He looked mortified. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… you’re very pretty, in a much less obvious way,’ he floundered. ‘I mean, you don’t need all that make-up and stuff, you’re naturally pretty and…’

Chrissie held up her hand and smiled. ‘Enough! I forgive you.’

She sneaked a peak at her watch.

‘I’m not keeping you, am I?’ asked Clark.

‘Not at all, it’s just that I have to be back by midnight, which means leaving for the walk home about eleven-thirty.’

‘Plenty of time,’ said Clark, relaxing a little. ‘Would you like a cigarette?’

‘No, thanks, I don’t smoke, but you go ahead.’

‘If you’re sure?’

Clark opened his packet of Capstan and took out a cigarette. ‘Tell me about yourself.’

‘Not much to tell, really. I work for my father, Dr Skinner, in the surgery. My mother’s the local midwife so I sometimes help her as well but I’m a bit squeamish. I’ve seen enough births to put me off sex for good.’

Immediately these words were out, Chrissie wanted the ground to swallow her up. Her faced flushed a bright scarlet. She couldn’t imagine what on earth had possessed her to say such a thing. Clark choked on his drink and spluttered the amber liquid down his chin.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…’ Chrissie apologised.

Clark began to laugh and Chrissie joined in until they were both helpless.

By the time Billy and Syl returned to the table they were deep in conversation again. The band slowed the music right down and Clark silently stood up and held out his hand to Chrissie. She took it and allowed herself to be guided on to the dance floor. They were timid and awkward at first, with Clark clumsily treading on her toes, but as they got used to the feel of each other’s bodies they both began to enjoy the experience. Clark was not much taller than Chrissie, so it was easy for her to look into his eyes. He smiled back and pulled her closer, allowing her to catch the scent of his skin, a fresh citrusy smell, only slightly masked by tobacco. She wondered suddenly if Clark would attempt to kiss her and that caused panic to rise up inside her. She took deep breaths and forced herself to calm down. She was nineteen years old for goodness sake. Her arms were around Clark’s neck now and she pulled him closer to steal another look at her watch behind his head. He bowed into her neck and his arms tightened around her waist. She was astonished to see that it was almost eleven-thirty already and she needed to be making a move, but she was reluctant to break the spell. She silently cursed her father and when the music eventually stopped, she and Clark gently parted.

‘I’m sorry, but I really need to be going now.’

‘I understand. Would you like me to walk you home?’

Chrissie glanced over at Billy and Sylvia. She was gently caressing Billy’s face, running her fingers over his scar. He looked decidedly uncomfortable.

‘That would be lovely, thank you. I’ll just have to see if Syl minds.’

Of course, Syl didn’t mind. She was entranced by Billy and was glad Clark and Chrissie were leaving so they could have time to themselves.

Clark sidled over to Billy.

‘I can’t believe it. She’s lovely,’ he enthused. ‘I’ve offered to walk her home. You don’t mind, do you? Looks like you’ve got your hands full here anyway.’

‘No, mate. You go ahead. Good luck!’ The words seemed to stick in his throat.

Chrissie joined Clark and Billy. ‘Are you ready to go?’ she asked. It was already eleven-thirty-five and she was becoming agitated.

‘Yes, I am,’ replied Clark, taking hold of Chrissie’s hand.

‘Goodbye, Billy. It was nice to meet you.’

Chrissie held out her other hand to Billy and as he took it, their eyes met for a second. Chrissie felt muddled by what she saw. It was a mixture of incredible sadness and longing. His eyes were such a deep brown you could hardly see his pupils.

‘Goodbye, Chrissie. You look after Clark now.’

He winked as he said it, and she flushed again. She grabbed on to Clark’s arm to steady herself, heady with confusion.

‘Err… I… will, bye now,’ she managed.

Billy held her gaze and her hand for a second too long and then smiled ruefully as he came to his senses. Sylvia pulled Billy to his feet.

‘Come on, we’ve got time for another dance.’

Clark and Chrissie made their way to the exit, hand in hand. Clark opened the door for her and Chrissie fought the urge to look back. Clark was lovely and she felt totally relaxed in his company, so why did she feel she was leaving with the wrong man?

Although the April evening was somewhat chilly, by the time Chrissie and Clark arrived back at her house the brisk walk had warmed them through and Chrissie was slightly out of breath. Clark looked at his watch.

‘Five past twelve. I think we did pretty well.’

Chrissie was relieved. The house was in darkness so her parents were obviously not yet home. Now came the awkward bit.

‘I can’t ask you in, I’m afraid. My parents will be back soon and…’

Clark put his fingers to her lips. ‘It’s not a problem, but I’d really like to see you again.’

She hesitated as she thought of Billy and the dejection she had seen in his eyes. She imagined him and Sylvia swaying together in the soporific gloom of the dance hall. Surely he could never be interested in a naïve, innocent girl like her anyway. She suddenly became aware of Clark’s expectant face. She nodded. ‘I’d like that too.’

‘Really?’ Clark sounded aghast.

Chrissie laughed. ‘Yes really. I have Sunday free. Perhaps we could go for a walk.’

‘Perfect,’ said Clark. ‘I’ll call round about one o’clock.’

Chrissie felt momentary panic. ‘Err, no. I’ll meet you in the park, at the bandstand. I’ll bring some sandwiches and a flask if you like.’

‘I shall look forward to it.’ He gently raised her hand and softly kissed the back of it. Then without another word, he turned and began to walk away.