Pulling her old woollen coat around her body to protect against the harsh wintry wind, Elsie traipsed through Bournemouth town centre after her shift on the buses. Snow had been forecast and all day passengers had been wondering if this winter would be as bad as last, when temperatures had reached a record low. As she walked, Elsie mourned the loss of the pretty festive lights that normally lit up the town’s shop windows and Christmas trees. The blackout had put paid to that, and combined with fog, it was almost impossible to see which way her boots were heading, but eventually she arrived at the Goat and Tricycle public house, which even though it was shrouded in the regulation darkness could be heard from the street.

Feeling for his handwritten note in her pocket, Elsie opened the door a crack and spotted Jimmy Browne sitting alone at a table in the corner near the piano, where someone had half-heartedly draped a string of tinsel across the top. Closing the door again, her heart thundered in her chest. She wasn’t used to going into public houses alone. Though it was more acceptable these days, especially now that women were doing jobs that men traditionally did, some publicans still frowned on it. Why her money was any different to a man’s, she didn’t know.

Come on, Elsie, she buoyed herself up. Get on with it.

After the count of ten, she burst through the door into a cloud of tobacco smoke. Twenty or more men craned their necks, including the publican, who wore a Father Christmas hat, to peer at her as she quickly walked towards Jimmy, who was nursing a beer, his hat on the table in front of him. He greeted her with an enormous grin, standing to pull out a seat for her to sit on. Reaching into her pocket for his note, she cast it down onto the table.

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ she said, glowering at him. Staring at the note, she watched him scan his own words, which said he had an urgent message for her. He’d left the note on the bus tucked into her bag and, for a crazy moment, she thought perhaps he had news about William. ‘It’s nearly wash time for my sisters,’ she said crossly. ‘They’ll be waiting for me and wondering where I am. I said I’d be there tonight.’

Jimmy turned his face upwards from the note and smiled at her, with a dash of amusement in his eyes. It was then that her vague hope that this was a message about William dissolved and she felt ridiculous for coming.

‘I didn’t think you’d come unless it was an emergency,’ Jimmy said. ‘This will only take a minute. Can I get you a drink?’

Though Elsie felt she should leave immediately, she was physically exhausted after twelve hours on her feet. She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. In truth she was gasping for a drink, but she shook her head in refusal. The quicker she got this over with, the better. She had been silly to come at all.

He gave her a long and meaningful look through the furl of smoke from his cigarette, before stubbing it out in the ashtray. Not for the first time, forbidden feelings stirred within her and she chastised herself. This war had thrown her whole life up into the air and right now she felt she had little control over where all the pieces were going to land.

‘I know you have a fiancé,’ he said. ‘You’ve told me that you won’t go on a date with me and that’s fair enough.’

Elsie nodded and folded her arms resolutely. Ever since they’d had that chance meeting on the bus, Jimmy had been trying to convince her to spend time with him; fish and chips, a dance, the pictures, even just a turn around the Square.

‘What’s your fiancé’s name again?’ he asked. 

‘William,’ Elsie answered, biting her lip. ‘I haven’t seen him now in a year. I haven’t heard from him in almost six months. His last letter was very short. We were supposed to be—’ Memories of the wedding day that never was rushed into her head, bringing with it the same colossal disappointment she had felt on the day. Her voice trailed off and she took a sharp intake of breath.

Jimmy stared at her for a moment, smiling in understanding, and took a sip from his drink.

‘He’s a lucky man to have you waiting for him to come home,’ he said, before fixing her with a stare. ‘Elsie, I’m going to be posted overseas before Christmas. I wondered if you’d grant me a Christmas wish? My regiment is helping to put on a Christmas concert party for the evacuee children. Some of us are playing instruments or singing a ditty or acting. I wondered if you’d come with me?’

Elsie looked at Jimmy quizzically. It seemed like a lot of bother to put a note in her bag urging her to meet him, just to ask her this, when he already knew she’d say no.

‘So you’re asking me on another date?’ she said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I’ve already said why I can’t.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s not a date. I know you are off limits,’ he said. ‘I just like you, that’s all. You’re proud and unafraid and –’ he looked up at her with a cheeky smile, before saying: ‘beautiful.’

Elsie felt herself blush at the compliment. She glanced around the pub and was pleased to find that everyone was ignoring them.

‘What were you doing before the war?’ she asked.

‘My father owns an ironmonger’s shop in Sleaford,’ he said. ‘It’s a small town in Lincolnshire, where the world moves slowly. He sold all sorts. Pianos in the basement, antiques in the corner, then all the hardware. Boxes of nails, hinges and doorknobs and it had this particular smell of wood shavings and varnish and rust that I have always loved. I was supposed to take over the business, but war was declared and here I am. Heaven knows where I’ll be in a few weeks’ time,’ he finished quietly. ‘I’d like to take a memory of Bournemouth with me, one that feels connected to normal life, and so I want you to accompany me to this party.’

‘Why me?’ Elsie said. ‘There are plenty of single girls in Bournemouth desperate for a handsome pilot to take them out. I know plenty. I could introduce you?’

‘You’re different,’ he said, giving her an intense stare.

Elsie’s anger subsided. She knew of many girls who went out with servicemen who were stationed in the town while their own sweethearts were away, quite innocently, but if she did, would it be disloyal to William? Or was it a simple case of helping keep up Jimmy’s morale?Elsie made a snap decision. If she laid out clear boundaries, Jimmy would have to respect them. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

‘I’ll come,’ she said. ‘But strictly as friends. Can I bring Mary? She’s an evacuee staying at my digs.’

‘Friends,’ he said with a grin, catching her eye and holding it for just a second too long. ‘And yes, of course, Mary is welcome. Can I get you a drink now that’s sorted?’

Elsie shook her head. ‘Thank you but no,’ she said. ‘I need to get home.’

It was tempting to stay in the warm pub with Jimmy, but she stood and buttoned up her woollen coat, ready to face the biting wind outside. Feeling his gaze linger upon her as she slipped out of the door, she disappeared into the night.

---

Bournemouth was becoming a master at disguise. From the street-view, the hall looked empty and closed. The blackout blinds concealed the activity inside and only the music, a rowdy rendition of ‘We’re Going to Hang out the Washing on the Siegfried Line’, gave a clue to the party within. It had been a week since Jimmy asked Elsie to the Christmas shindig and, walking towards the entrance clutching Mary’s hand, she felt increasingly nervous about the prospect of the evening ahead. Only an hour ago she had begged Lily to accompany her.

‘Aren’t you forgetting that I’m the size of a house?’ Lily had said, pointing to her bump.

At least Mary was there, pretty as a picture in a dress Audrey had made from an old pyjama top. Her presence made Elsie feel more justified in coming along. Now, tucking her hair behind her ears, Elsie plucked up her courage and pushed open the door into what looked like the inside of a spectacular musical jewellery box. Despite rationing the organisers had pulled out all the stops for the evacuees.

‘Isn’t it lovely, Mary?’ Elsie said, watching Mary’s eyes glitter as she stared at the paper chains and decorations strung across the hall where couples were dancing on the shiny parquet floor. On the stage two young women dressed in pale satin dresses played accordions, accompanying a male singer dressed in a suit and bow tie, who was belting out a tune. At the opposite end of the room was a real Christmas tree, the tip of which touched the ceiling. It was decorated with stars and bells, and was surrounded by a selection of beautifully wrapped presents for the evacuees.

‘Why don’t you see what’s over there?’ she asked Mary, pointing at the group of evacuee children who were standing around a table, hands together, rushing through grace, while staring intently at the fairy cakes and finger sandwiches.

‘They give ENSA a run for their money, wouldn’t you say?’ Jimmy said, suddenly by her side. ‘There’s a whistler and a trumpet player on next, then I think we’re having a game of musical chairs and statues. They’re serving cocktails too. Here, I got this for you. It’s an “Air Force” – two-thirds gin, one-third lemon juice and a dash of maraschino.’

Elsie felt herself relax. How wonderful it was to forget her troubles and enjoy an evening out. She’d taken such privileges for granted before the war, and now appreciated a dance and a cocktail so much more.

‘Yes please,’ Elsie said, accepting the drink and laughing. ‘It’s loud in here, isn’t it? We wouldn’t be able to hear the siren if it went off!’

‘I’ve had a word with Hitler,’ Jimmy said, with a wink. ‘He’s going to give us all a night off to enjoy ourselves.’

Sipping her delicious cocktail, which was going straight to her head, and watching Mary tuck into the cakes, Elsie recognised Rita, a former colleague from Beales Department Store, who was obviously gossiping about her to her friend. Elsie waved back.

‘Care to dance?’ Jimmy said.

‘No,’ said Elsie. ‘No, I’ll watch instead. I’ve two left feet.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ said Jimmy, his own left foot tapping to the beat. ‘Come on and let your hair down. Please?’

There was something about Jimmy, maybe something as superficial as his dashing looks, that made Elsie give in to his demands.

‘Oh go on then,’ she said, breaking into a smile.

Taking Jimmy’s hand, she straightened her back and waited for the next song to start. When the music began, Elsie immediately stood on Jimmy’s toes and he shrieked in pain and hopped about on one foot. She let go of his hand and both of her hands shot to her mouth to cover her giggles. 

‘I told you so,’ she laughed. ‘I can’t dance!’ 

‘You’re making it up,’ he said, grabbing her hand so she couldn’t leave the dance floor. Mary had come over to watch them dance, so Elsie pulled her onto the floor too, and the three of them gave up trying to dance properly, joined hands and spun around in a circle until the walls of the hall were a blur of paper chains and stars. Elsie felt ten years old, released from her worries and responsibilities. They threw back their heads, laughing hard, but then Mary’s hand suddenly slipped out of Elsie’s and the little girl careered backwards, landing awkwardly on her ankle. For a moment Jimmy kept hold of Elsie’s hand, before letting go.

‘Ouch!’ Mary cried, crouching on the floor to grab her ankle, her big brown eyes filling with tears. ‘It hurts!’

Elsie sat down next to Mary, rubbing the little girl’s back to reassure her. Even though she had started saying a few things, Mary’s voice was still a new sound for Elsie – and hearing her so distressed was sobering.

Jimmy rested his hand on Elsie’s shoulder before inspecting the damage.

‘Looks like you’ve sprained it, Mary,’ he said. ‘I’ll find a bandage from the first aid box, how about that?’

Elsie smiled gratefully. ‘Come on Mary,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you over to a chair and take your shoe off, so we can look at it properly.’

Helping Mary hobble over to a chair, Elsie sat beside her, removing Mary’s sock and lifting her ankle gently to rest it, slightly raised, on her lap. Scanning the room to look for Jimmy, she saw Rita approaching and lifted a hand to wave at her again.

Sitting in the chair beside Elsie, Rita sympathised with Mary before whispering in Elsie’s ear. ‘I thought you were engaged to William Allen,’ she said. ‘Have you broken it off with him?’

Elsie drew away from Rita and frowned. ‘No! Of course not,’ she said. ‘Why would you say that?’

Rita hardly took a breath before replying. ‘Because you’re here with Jimmy the handsome pilot and he’s all over you like a rash,’ she said. ‘That’s what everyone’s saying. You know how people will talk.’

Elsie felt her blood boil. She wanted to stand up and walk away, but Mary’s swollen ankle was keeping her seated.

‘Jimmy is a friend and nothing more,’ she said. ‘William has been away for a year and I miss him more than I can say. Why don’t you keep your blasted nose out of it.’

‘Don’t curse at me, Elsie Russo,’ Rita said.

‘Then don’t gossip about me, Rita Norman,’ Elsie replied.

‘I’m only saying what I’m seeing,’ snapped Rita. ‘Does William’s sister know what you’re up to?’

‘I’m not up to anything,’ said Elsie, moving Mary’s ankle gently onto the chair, so she could stand. ‘Shut up, why don’t you?’

Rita stood up to face Elsie and moved even closer towards her. Elsie could feel the warmth of Rita’s alcohol-fumed breath on her face.

‘Why are you all tarted up then, when your sweetheart is fighting?’ she said. ‘I reckon William would be better off without you and I won’t shy from telling him as much when he’s home!’

Everything Elsie had felt over the last year – the disappointment, fury, longing, the helplessness – seemed to bubble and boil inside her like molten sugar. Raising her hand, she lashed out at Rita, landing a stinging slap on her cheek. There was a sharp intake of breath from the small crowd that had gathered around them.

‘You can wipe that smug look off your face for a start,’ said Elsie.

‘Bitch!’ said Rita, holding a hand to her stinging cheek, before drawing back her own hand and slapping Elsie on the face in return.

Elsie, red with fury and humiliation, shoved Rita in the chest and as she stumbled backwards, Rita grabbed hold of Elsie’s hair and yanked it.

Hurling insults at each other, the pair tumbled to the floor. The music came to an abrupt halt and all eyes were suddenly on the scrapping women. All they needed was clapping and a chanti of ‘fight, fight’ and it would be a proper brawl.

‘Ladies! Enough!’ boomed a voice above them. Elsie lay on her back on the floor, staring up at a horrified Jimmy, who stood open-mouthed before offering his hand to Elsie. He pulled her up, his expression incredulous. Then he helped up Rita, whose lipstick had smudged halfway up her cheek, giving her the look of a demonic clown. ‘I’m not sure what sort of establishments you normally frequent,’ he said, ‘but this is a peaceful one. Please everyone go back to enjoying your evening. There’s nothing to see here!’

The music quickly started up. Rita glared at Elsie, who glared right back before turning to Mary, who was sticking her tongue out at Rita in revenge.

‘Let’s get this ankle bandaged up,’ she said to Mary, pushing the pins back into her hair and smoothing down her dress. ‘Then we’ll have to go home.’

‘What happened, Elsie?’ Jimmy asked. ‘Gosh, you’ve got some fire in your belly, haven’t you? No wonder I like you!’

Elsie glared at him. ‘This is your fault,’ she told him. ‘I told you I shouldn’t have come. Why did you ask me?’

Jimmy’s eyes fell to the floor, his smile disappeared and Elsie felt instantly guilty.

‘I better take Mary home,’ she said, more softly.

‘Let me walk you,’ he said. ‘How will you manage if Mary can’t walk?’

‘I don’t need help,’ she said, grabbing Mary’s hand and leading her outside. But Mary was hopping on one foot, clearly in pain, and couldn’t even put the other foot down.

‘Please,’ said Jimmy. ‘Let me help you home. I can easily carry Mary.’

Elsie sighed and gave a quick nod of her head.

Outside, the night was freezing and Elsie struggled not to slide on the icy pavement in her evening shoes. Their breath was visible in dragon’s-breath puffs as they walked, and though Elsie didn’t admit it, she was grateful that Jimmy was there. He carried Mary in his arms and, snug against his warm coat, she fell asleep.

When they reached the corner of Fisherman’s Road and the bakery was in view, Elsie stopped walking. Lights were shining from the kitchen and bedroom windows above the bakery, where the blackout blinds hadn’t been pulled. The ARP warden will fine Charlie, Elsie thought, wondering how Audrey could have forgotten. Something must have happened, she thought, a tremor of fear tickling her spine.

Outside the bakery Elsie turned to Jimmy and held out her arms so that she could take Mary. He passed her over, a warm, sleepy bundle, and kissed Elsie’s cheek, so gently and quickly she wondered if he’d kissed her at all. At that moment, the door swung open, the figure of Audrey framed by light.

‘Elsie, thank God,’ she said. ‘Lily’s gone into labour. I need water, towels and a bloody big brandy.’

About to follow Audrey indoors, Elsie glanced back at Jimmy, who had moved a few steps away, his collar turned up to protect against the flurry of snow that had started to fall.

‘Happy Christmas, Elsie Russo,’ he said, giving her a beautiful grin and raising his hand to her in a salute. ‘I’ll remember you. Thanks for the memory.’

Elsie opened her mouth to reply, but he had already turned on his heel and a second later had disappeared into the black night. Thanks for the memory.

‘ELSIE!’ Audrey said, when a blood-curdling scream erupted from Lily. ‘For goodness sake, come inside and help me.’