pleased for you. Is she a nice girl?— No, of course she is. Silly question.’
Jimmy smiled faintly, hoping that was an end to the subject, but then Vivien said,
‘Well?’
‘Well?’
She laughed. ‘Tell me about her.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘I’m not sure, the usual sorts of things, I suppose—how did you two meet?’
Jimmy’s mind went back to the cafe in Coventry. ‘I was carrying a sack of flour.’
‘And she was powerless to resist.’ Vivien teased him gently. ‘So evidently she’s partial to flour. What else does she like? What’s she like?’ ‘Playful,’ Jimmy said, his throat tight, ‘full of life, full of dreams.’ He wasn’t enjoying the conversation one bit, but he found his mind drawn to thoughts of Doll; the girl she’d been, the woman she was now. ‘She lost her family in the Blitz.’
‘Oh, Jimmy.’ Vivien’s face fell. ‘The poor girl. She must’ve been devastated.’
Her sympathy was deep and sincere, and Jimmy couldn’t bear it. His shame at the deceit; the part he’d already played; his heart-sickness at the duplicity—all drove him now to honesty. Perhaps, in the back of his mind, he even hoped the truth might sabotage Doll’s plan in some way. ‘I think you might know her actually.’
‘What?’ She shot him a glance, seemingly alarmed by the idea. ‘How?’
‘Her name’s Dolly.’ He held his breath, remembering how badly things had gone between the two of them; ‘Dolly Smitham.’
‘No.’ Vivien was visibly relieved. ‘No, I don’t think I know anybody by that name.’
Now Jimmy was confused. He knew they were friends, that is they had been once, Dolly had told him all about it. ‘You worked at the WVS together. She used to live across the road from you in Campden Grove. Lady Gwendolyn’s companion.’
‘Oh!’ Realisation dawned on Vivien’s face and, ‘Oh, Jimmy,’ she said, stopping to grip his arm, her dark eyes wide with panic. ‘Does she know we’ve been working together at the hospital?’
‘No,’ Jimmy lied, hating himself.
Her relief was palpable, a smile tried to form only to be dimmed quickly by renewed concern. She sighed with regret, pressing her fingers lightly to her lips. ‘God, Jimmy, she must hate me.’ Her eyes scanned his. ‘It was the most awful thing—I don’t know if she mentioned it to you—she did me a great favour once, returning my locket when I’d lost it, but I—I’m afraid I was rather rude to her. I’d had a bad day, something unexpected had happened; I wasn’t feeling well and I was unkind. I went to see her, to apologise and explain; I knocked on the door of number 7, but nobody answered. Then the old woman died and everyone moved away; it all happened very quickly.’ Vivien’s fingers had fallen to her locket as she spoke; she was twisting it, turning it over in the hollow of her throat. ‘Will you tell her, Jimmy? Will you tell her I didn’t mean to treat her so un-kindly?’
Jimmy said that he would. Hearing Vivien’s explanation had made him unaccountably pleased. It confirmed Dolly’s account; but it also proved that the whole thing, Vivien’s seeming coldness, had been a huge misunderstanding.
They walked a little further in silence, each of them away with their thoughts, until Vivien said, ‘Why are you waiting to get married, Jimmy? You’re in love, aren’t you? You and Dolly?’
His gladness fell away. He wished to God she’d drop the subject. ‘Yes.’
‘Then why not do it now?’
The words he found to mask the lie were trite. ‘We want it to be perfect.’
She nodded, considering, and then she said, ‘What could be more perfect than marrying the person you love?’
Perhaps it was the unpleasant haze of shame he was feeling that made him leap to justify himself; perhaps it was the latent memories of his dad waiting in vain for his mother to return, but Jimmy echoed her question—‘What could be more perfect than love?’—and then he laughed bitterly. ‘Knowing you can provide enough to keep your loved one happy, for starters. That you can put food on the table, pay to keep the rooms warm, keep a roof over your heads. For those of us with nothing to spare that’s no small matter. Not as romantic as your idea, I admit, but that’s life, isn’t it?’
Vivien’s face had paled; he’d hurt her, he could tell, with his acerbity, but Jimmy’s own temper was flashing red hot by then, and although he was upset with himself and not with her at all, he didn’t apologise. ‘You’re right,’ she said finally.