She reached into her pocket and turned over the little wood-en gift. Jimmy would be there already; he’d be wondering where she was, glancing at the door each time it opened, expecting to see her. She hated to keep him waiting, especially now … But here was Vivien, turned up on the doorstep, so serious, so nervy, glancing over her shoulder all the time, pleading and saying how important it was that they talk.
Dolly sighed in reluctant capitulation. She couldn’t very well leave Vivien like this, not when she was so upset.
She told herself Jimmy would understand, that in a funny way, he’d become fond of Vivien, too. And then she made the decision that would prove fateful for them all. ‘Come on,’ she said, extinguishing her cigarette and taking Vivien gently by a thin arm, ‘let’s go back inside.’
It struck Dolly as she led the two of them into the house and up the stairs, that Vivien might have come to apologise. It was all she could think of to explain the other woman’s agitation, the loss of her usual composure: Vivien, with her wealth and class, wasn’t the sort of woman much given to apology. The thought made Dolly nervous. It was un- necessary—as far as she was concerned, the whole sorry episode was in the past. She’d have preferred never to mention it again.
They reached the end of the corridor and Dolly unlocked her bedroom door. The bare bulb flared dully when she flicked the switch, and the narrow bed, the small cabinet, the cracked sink with its dripping tap, all came into focus. Dolly felt a flash of embarrassment when she saw her room suddenly through Vivien’s eyes. How meagre it must seem after the accommodation she was used to; that resplendent house on Campden Grove with its tubular glass chandeliers and zebra-skin throws.
She slipped off her old coat and turned to hang it on the hook behind the door. ‘Sorry it’s so hot in here,’ she said, trying to sound breezy. ‘No windows, more’s the pity—makes the blackout easier but it’s not so handy for ventilation.’ She was joking, trying to lighten the atmosphere, cajole herself into better spirits, but it didn’t work. All she could think of was Vivien standing there behind her, looking for somewhere to sit down—oh dear. ‘No chair, either, I’m afraid.’ She’d been meaning to get one for weeks, but with times as tough as they were, and she and Jimmy resolved to save every penny, Dolly had decided just to make do.
She turned around and forgot the lack of furnishings when she saw Vivien’s face. ‘My God,’ she said, eyes widening as she took in her friend’s bruised cheek. ‘What happened to you?’
‘Nothing.’ Vivien, who was pacing now, waved impatiently. ‘An accident on the way. I ran into a lamp post. Stupid of me, rushing as usual.’ It was true; Vivien always went too quickly. It was a quirk, and one that Dolly had always rather liked—it made her smile to see such a refined, well-dressed woman rushing about with the gait of a young girl. Tonight though, everything felt different. Vivien’s outfit was mismatched, there was a ladder in her stockings, her hair was a mess … ‘Here,’ said Dolly, guiding her friend to the bed, glad she’d made it so carefully that morning. ‘Sit down.’
The air-raid siren began to wail right then and she cursed beneath her breath. It was the last thing they needed. The shelter here was a nightmare: all of them packed together like sardines; the damp bedding; the putrid smell; Mrs White’s hysterics; and now, with Vivien in this state—
‘Ignore it,’ Vivien said, as if reading Dolly’s mind. Her voice was suddenly that of the lady of the house, used to giving orders. ‘Stay. This is far more important.’
More important than getting to the shelter? Dolly’s heart fluttered. ‘Is it the money?’ she said in a low voice. ‘Do you need it back?’
‘No, no, forget about the money.’
The rise and fall of the siren was deafening and it spurred in Dolly a floating anxiety that refused to settle. She didn’t know why exactly, but she knew she was afraid. She didn’t want to be here, not even with Vivien. She wanted to be hurrying along the dark streets to where she knew Jimmy was waiting for her. ‘Jimmy and I—’, she began, before Vivien cut her off.
‘Yes,’ she said, face lighting as if she’d just remembered something. ‘Yes, Jimmy.’