The Storm Page 6

  Laura and Maggie had spent the past few months trying to help Meg get back on her feet after losing Paul. It had been devastating early on, but time, somehow, becomes a friend in these cases. Although it cannot take away the pain, it numbs it in a way that feels bearable.

  When Meg managed to go from day to day without needing constant emotional support, the first thing she did was express to her two friends the wish to do her bit for the big cause. So, at the start of 1941, the three women signed up as volunteers at a local factory that provided the Army with canned food. For Laura, it was the perfect choice; an insult to Charles, since it was the very factory he once hoped to administer as co-owner with Mr Porter.

  Still, nothing seemed to get a reaction out of her husband these days. By now, even if something caused offence or annoyance, neither of them bothered express it. Their pent-up anger was now limited in its expression only in the dagger looks they often threw each other, or with a nasty remark at most.

  Naturally, Charles refused to do any voluntary work for the home front, unlike everyone else. On the contrary, he used the war times to his advantage: using the earnings from his black market business, he bought an association with his favourite hangout, The Black Cat. His ambitious plans to renovate the decrepit building and its interior dazzled the dive’s owner, who allowed Charles to take his place as Manager, in return for a generous handout.

  In reality, the agreement cast the owner aside to such a degree, that he had no say in the decision-making any more. Instead, he became something of an employee of Charles’s. He could enjoy a generous monthly fee but would have no opinion of his own. Charles even encouraged him to find something else to do, and in the end, the man stopped visiting the premises altogether.

  By the time spring came, Charles had become the head manager and sole owner of The Black Cat. His innovative ideas included revamping the place in the style of a French cabaret, employing lots of new girls from continental Europe, including greatly sought after, stylish French girls. The Black Cat now sparkled and glittered, welcoming the troops, offering discounts on drinks and free entry to an adjoining hall dedicated to illegal gambling.

  Charles never saw it fit to inform Laura of his new business venture in all detail but, somehow, his father found out and he was livid. That’s when the Earl and his wife visited Charles’s house to express their displeasure.

  Lord Fenshaw threatened to disown his son unless he stopped his dealings in the black market, but Charles refused to listen. Furthermore, the earl was unhappy that his son refused to join the war effort, doing his bit for the country as a volunteer like so many other civilians. As for joining the Army, Charles had insulted his father’s intelligence by claiming he was a conscientious objector; a ridiculous excuse that had hurt the old man’s pride like nothing else.

  Within a month, and as Charles stood his ground on all the above issues, his father finally realised his threat and sent him a letter that announced that his will had now been changed. After Lord Fenshaw’s death, all his estate and money would go to his grandson, Freddie. Until his 18th birthday, the estate would be handled by Laura. So, in every way, Charles had been totally excluded. The earl made it clear that he didn’t even want to see Charles ever again.

  When Charles read that letter, he became mad with rage and ended all contact with his parents overnight. Whenever his mother called to ask after his health, he’d refuse to come to the telephone.

  Laura felt sorry for her in-laws, but she was pleased for her child, and contented that Charles had been disowned. It felt fair that a man as dishonourable as this, should never be allowed to lay his hands on a nobleman’s estate.

  Things at home never felt bleaker than they did now. All day, Laura would be at the factory with Maggie and Meg while Charles slept back home, as he worked long hours every night. They hardly saw each other any more, and even when they met around the house they’d simply give each other a cursory nod and hardly say anything.

  With Charles at home all day, Laura had James at her disposal to drive her to the factory and back. Her kindly chauffeur was bursting at the seams to serve his country but volunteered to work in the same factory in his free time instead. He stayed because Laura had asked him to and, besides, he had to be at home to protect her, just in case. It wasn’t only Laura who thought Charles was a dangerous man. He could clearly see it, too.

  In March, Maggie gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. As luck would have it, Ian was assigned to accompany some wounded soldiers to a home of convalescence near London a week later. Pulling some impossible strings via a soldier friend with connections in the upper echelons of the Army, Ian managed the impossible: to be allowed to go to Brighton on leave for just three days as to hold his daughter for the first time.

  Once at home, Ian shed tears of joy at the sight of his newborn child. For Maggie, the emotions she experienced when she laid eyes on him were an odd mixture. Although she was ecstatic to see him again, his appearance gave her a fright. It took a while to get used to. The war had left him emaciated. It was as if his pale skin covered only bone and even his expression had changed; gone was his forever jovial smile. Instead, a shadow seemed to dwell permanently under his lashes, colouring everything he saw with a dark hue. During the two nights he stayed at home, he had nightmares that had him screaming, waking the baby that slept beside them in its cot.

  Soon enough, it was time to go back to war, but Ian was glad to do it. He was traumatized, no doubt about that, but so was the rest of the country. And as long as the war was on, there was no question about where he should be or what he should be doing. If anything, now he had one more reason to fight; now he had to protect his darling little girl, too.

  The thought gave him comfort when he returned to his post. During the long hours he spent sitting in the muddy trenches, his rifle propped up beside him against the dirt wall as he whistled some old favourite tune, the picture of Maggie holding their child became more precious than the holiest of relics could ever be. When he didn’t rest his eyes upon it with a tenderness that made his throat constrict with feeling, he kept it about his person in an inside pocket, right over his heart.

  The rest of that year went by like an unending string of miserable days, where spirits ran low. Still, somehow, British pride didn’t allow the light of hope to go out completely in people’s hearts. By the end of the year, after the attack on Pearl Harbour in Hawaii by the Japanese, Britain acquired a new, powerful ally. America joined the war against Nazi Germany that kept pounding mercilessly at the nation. For the first time, spirits began to soar.

  Chapter 11

  1988

  A few more days passed. Although the nightmares still plagued Sofia, she remained stubborn. She wasn’t swayed even after meeting Danny. To Annika’s continuous pleas to seek a consultation from a clairvoyant, Sofia made only excuses. Jeff’s tenderness and kind heart had caused her to see that finding love is possible. Although Jeff hadn’t actually told her he loved her, she felt it was only a matter of time. So, every time Annika suggested anything concerning Danny or The Lady, Sofia didn’t want to hear it.

  That morning, Sofia was pitiful. She hadn’t caught a wink all night. During breakfast in the cafeteria with Annika, she drank two big cups of coffee with her scrambled eggs on toast. Upon draining the last remnants from her cup, she looked up to find Annika eyeing her with sheer disapproval.

  “Sofia, I refuse to watch you wither away any longer. You’re going to call Danny today, and if you don’t, I swear I will!”

  “You’ll do no such thing!” Sofia shook a finger, then shrugged. “And what would you say if you did, I wonder?”

  “I’d say you’ve lost your mind and don’t know what’s good for you!”

  Sofia winced and placed a hand on her forehead. It throbbed with the warning of yet another headache. “Leave me alone, please, Annika. I haven’t slept all night. Show some mercy!”

  “This is exactly my point. First, you find finger marks on your face, then yo
u wake up screaming for a number of nights. The other day you had a black eye, and this morning you woke to find you had a cut lip! Shall we wait till the spirit starts breaking your ribs too?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Annika!”

  “No, my friend, you’re the one who’s being stupid!” The Swedish girl had had enough. She jolted upright, then took a handful of coins out of her pocket and showed them to Sofia.

  “Here’s the deal: either you’re calling Danny now or I am!”

  “Annika, be sensible. What can I say to him?”

  “If you’re happy with Jeff, be happy with Jeff. I’m not saying to end it with him . . . well, not yet anyway . . .”

  Sofia pulled a face of dismay.

  “Okay! But don’t shut Danny out of your life altogether. As you see, this has upset the spirit. You have to keep him in your life, at least. It’s no coincidence you saw him again the other day. And he offered you to call, didn’t he? So take it from there. Limit the damage this is doing to you – to your studies! You can’t survive on so much caffeine! You’re a nervous wreck! You need to sleep again like a normal person! Don’t you see?”

  Sofia stared at her friend, realising she had a point. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to phone Danny. Truth was she wanted a lot more than that. But it scared her. What if he shuns me again? And what about Jeff? I can't bear to break his heart.

  “Sofia! Either you or me. Who’s going to call him? Speak up!”

  “All right . . .” Sofia stood on two weak legs and walked around the table, gave Annika an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder and took the coins, then went to the nearest phone booth.

  “Hello?” said Sue from the other end of the line.

  “Hi, it’s Sofia, remember me?”

  “Oh, yes of course. Hi Sofia! You want to speak to Danny? He’s in his room; just a moment.”

  Danny came to the phone in a flash.

  “Hello? Sofia?” His voice was chirpy.

  Two minutes later, Sofia hung up, her face beaming.

  “Well?” Annika jolted upright when she spotted Sofia returning to the cafeteria.

  “Thank you, you were so right I should call.” Sofia looked dazed, her mind swimming with possibilities, all of them pregnant with hope.

  “What did he say?”

  “Not only does he go to therapy again, but he also invited me to a party this Saturday!” Sofia’s eyes were twinkling.

  “What kind of party? Where?”

  “In his house. It’s his birthday! He’s inviting a couple of friends for pizza and a movie, then we’ll go to a pub. He’s picking me up in his car from here early on so I can meet his dad and sister. I can't believe it!” Sofia burst into tears and fell into her friend’s welcoming arms.

  Annika gave her a big hug. “You listen to Annika, she’s always right! We have two hours free at lunch time. You and I are going shopping.”

  Sofia pulled away and knitted her brows. “Shopping? What for? I have plenty of clothes to choose from.”

  “I’m not talking about clothes, you daft girl! You can't go to a birthday party without a present!”

  ***

  When Saturday evening came, Danny picked Sofia up on the dot from Grand Parade. She was the first guest to arrive at his house and was excited to finally meet Danny’s father and sister. They both seemed polite enough, albeit a bit aloof, especially his father. Dressed in scrubby jeans and a tattered woolly jumper, he threw a jacket on, picked up a large toolbox and left for an emergency plumbing job not five minutes after Sofia arrived.

  “Your dad isn’t staying for the party?” Sofia asked when the door was closed shut.

  Danny and Sue exchanged looks, then broke into sniggers. “Dad is like a ghost in this house. He comes and goes, and barely stays in material form within these walls,” said Sue. Danny nodded, then turned to Sofia, his expression mirthful. “So, how are you? And your boyfriend? What did you say his name was?”

  “Jeff . . . All’s fine, thank you,” replied Sofia, uncomfortable to discuss Jeff in this house. She looked around her, then turned to Sue. “Do you need help with any preparations? Shall I help bake the pizza?”

  “Heaven forbid!” said Sue with a chuckle. “Homemade pizza? In this house?” She flicked her wrist at the absurd notion. “It’s a take away, of course.” She checked her watch. “They’d better be here for eight, like we requested. Your friends will come before that, right?” she asked her brother and he nodded.

  Sofia took out a small package from the carrier bag she brought along. “This is for you,” she said to Danny, then moved to leave a kiss on his cheek. “Happy birthday.”

  Danny’s eyes lit up as he settled on the sofa beside her. “You shouldn’t have.” He ripped the package open to find a rusty brown scarf neatly folded.

  “The weather’s chilly so I thought it might come in handy,” she said when he turned to gaze at her, his eyes sparkling. She and Annika had found the scarf in a busy fashion store and had agreed it was perfect.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said, “I love the colour. I would have preferred bright pink, of course,” he joked with a titter, “but keep it in mind for next time, all right?” He winked and kissed her cheek. The gesture was tender, lasting a tad longer than was customary, his exhaling breath tickling her ear.

  Sofia gave a shiver. You have a boyfriend now. Get a grip of yourself! Inside, her head was screaming in agony, but her heart was swimming in a sea of bliss.

  The rest of the evening unfolded in a pleasant manner. It was all very entertaining, with Danny being the perfect host. He saw to everyone’s needs, being polite and attentive, especially to his female friends, but in a nice way, a decent way. Sofia recognised a couple of his friends from the nightclub, and everyone was amicable and chatty.

  The pizza came on time and they devoured it while watching a rented movie. It was Cocktail with Tom Cruise, which Sofia had watched in Corfu with Dora and Nana that summer, but as it starred her darling Tom she didn’t mind.

  Afterwards, drinks at the local pub kept coming till it was time for last orders. They returned to Danny’s house, only to call a taxi for Sofia to get back to Brighton. Although Danny wasn’t drunk as such, he wasn’t fit to drive either. When the taxi pulled to a stop outside, Danny was there to give Sofia a warm hug and a peck on the lips that caught her by surprise.

  She didn’t act as if it meant anything at the time, but as the taxi drove away and she waved goodbye from the back seat, she started to wonder how meaningful it was. She raised two fingers to caress her bottom lip, where it felt like it burned still. Oh, God . . . I hope The Lady is appeased a little now. I need to sleep soundly tonight! But how can I please her without my life turning into hell? Can I trust you this time, Danny? Can I?

  Chapter 12

  Danny went to bed that night wearing the scarf that Sofia gave him. He sat up in bed and listened to music for a while, caressing the soft fabric with his fingertips and dreaming of the possibilities. Therapy was going well, and he found himself eager to keep Sofia in his life as a friend, for now. He knew well how fickle relationships can be when someone’s young, taking himself as an example, first of all. He was also a firm believer of fate in the matters of love, of the bonding of souls, being a real romantic. Now that his fears had begun to subside, he could see that if it was meant to be, Sofia and he could end up together, somehow. The prospect no longer scared him, and he realised it for the first time that night as he listened to his favourite music and thought of her.

  Before turning off the light, he folded the scarf neatly and placed it on his bedside table, then raised two fingers to caress her photograph that still hung on the wall above the headboard. He hadn’t lied in his letter to her. Sofia’s photo in her blue swimsuit remained pinned there. She was sitting on the pier in Vassilaki, a shy, wistful smile on her face that still made him weak at the knees.

  ***

  When Danny woke up in the morning, he had a quick cup of tea and a bowl of cereal, and then
phoned Steve. The hotel receptionist in Hythe put him through to the kitchens with extreme courtesy.

  “Hello?” Steve’s voice sounded rushed.

  “Steve, my man, it’s me!”

  “Danny! What a pleasant surprise! It’s been a while, mate. And happy birthday by the way; Loula and I were going to call you today. Yesterday was mad and we ran out of time.”

  “Thanks, and no worries. Listen, guess who I met again!”

  “Sofia – I know. Loula told me. The girls still talk on the phone.”

  Danny scratched his head. A fleeting thought made him cringe. I wonder what the girls discuss about me. “Right, anyway. She has a boyfriend now, but you probably know that too?”

  “Yes, of course I do. You had your chance there and you blew it, you plonker! Hate to say I told you so.”

  “You’re right, I know. But listen, mate, I’m happy to wait. I have this strange feeling . . . that she’s worth waiting for, that it’s meant to be.”

  “What? Who are you and what have you done to my friend?” Steve gave a chortle.

  “Don’t laugh, mate, I’m serious. Ever since last night . . . I can't stop feeling like this. And I had this funny dream, too.”

  “A dream?” Although Loula never told Steve anything about The Lady or the poems from Sofia’s dreams, the notion that his friend seemed so interested in Sofia again, enough to have dreams about her, seemed like a great eventuality.

  “Yes. I had this dream we were on the pier in Vassilaki, feeding the birds together. And then, somehow, the pier started to get bigger and bigger, until she and I were on the West Pier here. But it wasn’t old and broken as it is now. It was back in the day, open to the public. The people around us were in dated clothes and so were we. Sofia and I were feeding seagulls and starlings off the Pier, and I remember wearing a rusty brown scarf that blew in the breeze—”

  “Stop, Danny, you’re scaring me! You sound like a girl. What’s wrong with you, mate?”