‘Only nine carats, I’m afraid.’ Bill looked self-effacing, the restrictions of war and not parsimony having barred him from acquiring a twenty-three carat one, as he was quick to explain. ‘But I’ll be buying you a proper one when it’s all over.’
‘No you won’t,’ came her murmured instruction. ‘I’ll be keeping this one forever.’
Then, sharing a loving smile and a squeeze of each other’s hand, they tore their eyes away, and for the rest of the journey were to watch the countryside whiz by, and to mull over tantalising thoughts about the coming night.
With the room in total blackout, and her senses all to pot, there was no way of telling when night became day. Nell gasped as, with the aid of a lamp and snatching a look over Billy’s naked shoulder, she consulted his watch on the bedside table. ‘You do realise it’s almost nine o’clock?’ Nine o’clock in the morning that was.
Her bed companion grinned and stretched luxuriously like a cat, sharing a long, loving gaze with her, before hugging her to him and dappling her shoulder with kisses between words. ‘Well, the landlady did say to make ourselves at home. Anyway, we can stay in bed all day if we like, we’re married.’
Nell chuckled adoringly and returned his hug, shivering at the touch of his lips on her skin. ‘Oh, I wish we were, Bill, that we could fall asleep together every night, wake up together like this …’ Intensely happy, she released her hold on him and extended her hand to properly examine the exquisite gold ring he had bought her, all shiny and new.
Averse to losing any contact with her, however brief, Billy repossessed her hand and kissed it. ‘We will one day, I promise. You do believe me, don’cher?’ And he beheld her with a face so earnest that it could not possibly tell a lie.
‘Of course I do! That goes without saying.’ They had discussed this in depth. Aside from her parents not granting permission, Billy had told Nell she was much too young to be left a widow.
‘I saw what it was like for my mum after Dad was killed,’ he had become serious. ‘If anything should happen to me, I couldn’t bear the thought of you strugg—’
‘Don’t!’ Shuffling around quickly to synchronise her body to his again, she laid her hand across his lips, her eyes and voice pleading. ‘Let’s just put everything else aside and enjoy this chance to be together. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is.’ Totally spellbound, she cupped his cheek and stroked his brow, his ear, his smooth young jaw, feeling so intensely close, yet desiring to be closer still.
Billy agreed, his expression as blissful and contented as Nell’s as he tried to pull her even nearer to him, and rubbed his hand from nape to buttock as they kissed again.
At length, he tendered, ‘So … was it all right then?’
Nell glimpsed again the slight self-consciousness she had witnessed upon first entering the hotel room last night. She had been so worried about her own innocence that it had not occurred to her that Billy might be nervous too, but it had turned out that her lover was as inexperienced as she. ‘More than all right,’ she murmured lovingly, bestowing more kisses, to which Billy responded by burying his face in her neck, nuzzling around the back of her ear and into her hair.
‘But we really ought to get up,’ she was finally to say. ‘It’ll be embarrassing if the landlady sees the light under the door and comes knocking.’ The rattling of pots could be heard from downstairs, and the thunder of childish footsteps on the landing as the evacuees returned from breakfast.
‘She won’t. She thinks we’re on honeymoon, remember?’ Billy assured her, his face still pressed to her neck, dotting it with kisses.
‘Even more embarrassing! Everyone at the breakfast table knowing what we’ve been up to.’ But her smiling embrace was to prove Nell didn’t really care. Didn’t care about anything but the boy she loved.
Eventually, though, they had to rise. Dressing quickly, with a fond smile for Billy as he too covered his nakedness, Nell waited for him to cease hopping about on one foot, before turning off the lamp. Then, rendered blind, she stumbled her way to the window and pulled aside the blackout curtains to let the sun filter through the network of masking tape. Even lit by sunbeams, the room was not much to speak of, with a cast iron bedstead – with very rumpled sheets – beige lino and two well-worn green rugs, a wardrobe, a washstand, and above this an unframed mirror, plus one or two pictures of moorland and sheep to punctuate the faded wallpaper. But to Nell and her lover it was heaven. Both adjusting their clothes, giggling and whispering to each other, they made their way downstairs to seek breakfast, trying to appear like an old married couple.
The landlady did not bat an eyelid upon announcing she had been keeping something warm for them, and almost immediately they were served with bacon, egg, toast and tea. At least the evacuees had gone off to play, so they were allowed to eat in peace. Tucking in, but remaining self-conscious in an otherwise empty dining room, it was not long before Nell and Billy had cleared their plates, and were escaping into the fresh air.
Despite the fact that Scarborough was under fortification, with barriers, minefields and concrete pill boxes thrown up around the town, and sections of the beach cordoned off with barbed wire, it remained the bustling place of entertainment it had always been – even more bustling, with so many servicemen and children competing for space along the front. Historically a place to sit in deckchairs and listen to the band, the genteel Spa was now under military requisition. Nevertheless there were pleasures to be had amongst the amusement arcades and shellfish stalls, and these Nell and Billy proceeded to chase, undeterred by the sandbags and wire-netting, barely letting go of each other all day – even managing to eat a saucer of cockles with arms entwined, as they bumped and weaved their starry-eyed way in and out of the promenading throng, absorbing all the raucous treats that were on tap.
And when the money ran out, there were self-invented pastimes to supply laughter – even without the glasses of beer partaken at lunch – Nell’s companion so easygoing, a delight to be with. For her afternoon recreation he made up a guessing-game, which involved comparing passers-by to animals.
‘I can’t think what that chap might be,’ mused Nell, when it came to her turn, swinging her leg as they sat on a bench along the seafront. ‘He’s not really like any creature, is he?’ Billy was quick to gain points. ‘He’s a thatched cottage – has to be, with all that hair. Blimey, he’s like Moe off the Three Stooges!’
‘That’s cheating!’ She elbowed him laughingly, and drew away to accuse. ‘You said it had to be animals.’ Even this short gap between them proved too much, her eyes barely able to leave him for one second, as she watched a runnel of sweat filter from his dark hair to his brow, trickling through the creases at the edges of his eyes, then onwards down his firm cheek, before giving in to the urge to dab it away with her finger. ‘I’d hate to hear what I remind you of.’ But she shuffled back to him again, fondly laying her head on his shoulder.
Billy cuddled up to her, his voice deep and flirtatious as it murmured into her ear, ‘I can answer that easy enough – velvet, and chocolate and cream, all soft and sweet.’
‘Oh don’t say that!’ Nell looked and sounded disappointed. ‘Not all sugar and spice and things that make one puke.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that!’ Billy laughed. ‘Gawd help us – how do you want me to see you then?’
‘I’d much rather be thought of as a femme fatale.’ She adopted an exotic air, her accent foreign and her voice theatrical. ‘Dark and mysterious –’
‘You’re a ruddy mystery all right,’ cut in Billy, whipping his jovial face out of reach as she pretended to clip him. Then he sought to explain. ‘No, it’s just sometimes hard to put a word to a feeling, ain’t it? I think you’re really nice-looking – that goes without saying.’