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The room was thankfully empty, and Lily spent a moment taking deep breaths as she dabbed her eyes, feeling both ridiculous and terribly sad. She’d been nervous about this evening, but everything felt so much worse than she’d expected. Why did Matthew Lawson have to be so quiet? Why did he have to make her feel so stupid? Except he wasn’t really; he’d been quite kind, in his way. She’d managed to make herself feel stupid all on her own.
She drew a shuddering breath as the door swung open and three women sallied in, clearly in high spirits, chatting and laughing as they reached for lipsticks and started primping in front of the large gilt-edged mirror.
Lily angled her face away from them, but not quickly enough.
“Oh, you poor chicken!” A woman lowered her lipstick as she surveyed Lily’s bright eyes and trembling chin. “Has some dreadful Yank broken your heart?” She laughed raucously at this, taking any sympathy from her words, and Lily forced her chin up, her face heating. Was nowhere in this wretched hotel safe?
“No one has broken my heart,” she stated firmly.
“Just give him time,” the woman warned and, leaning towards the mirror, she puckered her lips.
“Don’t mind her, duck,” one of her companions said with a kindlier smile. “She’s three sheets to the wind already.” She patted Lily’s shoulder. “Chin up, love. Most likely, he’s not worth it.”
“If he’s American, he is,” the drunk woman stated. “For the cigarettes alone.” She narrowed her eyes as she outlined her lips in carmine red.
“I don’t smoke,” Lily said, which caused another eruption of laughter.
“Look, have a nip of this.” To her shock, the kindly woman took a silver flask from her handbag and gave it to Lily. Her numb fingers closed around it automatically. “It’ll keep your spi
rits up.”
Lily had no intention of drinking whatever was in the flask, but then she recalled Matthew Lawson’s flat voice, his blank look, and recklessly she unscrewed the top and took a large gulp of the stuff, only to sputter and cough half of it out, causing even more laughter.
The alcohol burned its way down her throat to her stomach, where it lit a warm fire of purpose and determination. She would not make a ninny of herself in front of Matthew Lawson, or anyone else, and she would not let him make her feel like one, either.
“There you go, darling,” the drunk woman called out encouragingly. “Go get him.”
Lily thrust the flask back at its owner and, with her head held high, she strode out of the ladies’, back to the ballroom.
Chapter Six
When Lily returned to the table, Sophie and Tom were sitting with Matthew. Sophie was, rather shockingly, on Tom’s lap, another coupe of champagne in her hand, laughing at something he’d said. If the woman in the ladies’ was three sheets to the wind, Lily thought with foreboding, then her sister was at least two.
“Get a load of this, Lily,” she called out.
Lily glanced at Matthew, who was staring at the table, but he lifted his head when she sat down, and the searching look he gave her made her blush and look away, because she didn’t understand it at all.
“That’s what you say, isn’t it?” Sophie continued teasingly as she twisted around to face Tom. “Get a load of this?” She put on a horribly twangy American accent that made Tom boom with laughter.
“Sure it is, honey.”
Sophie reached into Tom’s jacket and plucked out a little brown booklet. She turned back to Lily, a cigarette dangling from her fingers, and not a Spanish Shawl. “All that codswallop Tom was saying at Sunday lunch?” she told her. “It’s all from this book.” She waved it in front of Lily, who gazed at it blankly. “Listen to this.” Sophie straightened, Tom’s arm snug around her waist, and said in a loud, carrying voice, “‘Don’t be a show-off. The British dislike bragging and showing off. American wages and American soldier’s pay are the highest in the world. When payday comes, it would be sound practice to learn to spend your money according to British standards.’” She tossed the book down on the table. “I hope you don’t take that bit to heart,” she told Tom as she nestled closer. “Because I’ve heard about all the wonderful things you can get from your army shops—nylons and chocolate and these lovely, lovely cigarettes.”
Tom gave her a squeeze. “Anything you want, baby.”
Lily couldn’t bear to look at them. There was something so smug about the way Lieutenant Reese had his arm around Sophie’s waist, and the glitter in her sister’s eyes seemed dangerous. If their mother could see Sophie, she’d be utterly appalled.
And yet, Lily acknowledged, Sophie wasn’t acting any differently than a hundred women in this very ballroom—or a thousand, a million, in London. Women who flirted and danced, who managed to snag a GI, who seized their moments when they could, whether it was up against a brick wall or in the narrow bunk of an air-raid shelter. Lily had seen it before and averted her eyes from the sight of twined bodies moving sinuously together under the cover of darkness, or merely a thin blanket.
Her mother talked darkly of loose women of low morals, of the mysterious and bitter ends they invariably came to. And yet that was the reality of the terrifying world they now lived in—perhaps a single night of snatched pleasure was all anyone could hope for, all anybody could dare to get.
It is my painful duty to inform you…
What pleasure had those poor boys had?
“And listen to this,” Sophie continued as she snatched the book up once more. “‘You will be naturally interested in getting to know your opposite number, the British soldier, the “Tommy” you have heard and read about. You can understand that two actions on your part will slow up the friendship—swiping his girl, and not appreciating what his army has been up against. Yes, and rubbing it in that you are better paid than he is.’” Sophie threw her head back and laughed. “You’re not rubbing it in, are you, Tom?” She made it sound dirty.
“Who, me?” Tom made a face of exaggerated innocence before he caught Matthew’s eye; the other man, Lily saw, was scowling now. “What’s gotten you looking so down in the dumps?” he demanded. He nodded, a bit dismissively, to Lily. “Why don’t you go dance with her?”
