Short Story for February

This story is a fiction based on things my parents used to tell me about their “courtship” during the Second World War. Eckerts really did exist, my father was in the Home Guard (after failing to get in the RAF). He did lose his fingers on one hand in an industrial accident. My mother was in the ATS. The rest is down to my imagination!

Safety First

“It’s for your own safety,” Frank growled. He deliberately placed his hand on the safety bar of the metal cutter, to show the boy his fingers, cut off at the knuckles.
However, he was more annoyed at himself than the lad. “I was so stupid to agree,” he had muttered all morning. “How can I get out of going to the dance on Saturday?”

No one really understood his reluctance, especially in wartime England. And now Alex was home. “It doesn’t matter how well I dance,” he’d told Jim, his eldest brother, before he’d last gone to Eckert’s Dance Hall. “Once they see my hand, they won’t want anything to do with me.” But Jim had persuaded Frank to go.

“Did that happen in a battle?” asked the second girl he’d danced with, looking as though she didn’t want his hand near her, as he took her back to her seat.

“No, it was an accident at work,” Frank tried to explain without sounding as pathetic as he felt. “Just a stupid accident.”

“Oh, so you’re not in the forces, not fighting in the war,” she had said, smiling invitingly at a uniformed sailor sat at a table across the aisle.

“She couldn’t even wait until my back was turned,” he’d said to Jim. “It’s bad enough only being in the Home Guard not the RAF. All because of my ruptured ear drum. Now this. I feel like a bloody cripple.” He’d sworn he would never go dancing again.

But now Alex was home, after two years fighting with the navy. Alex, Frank’s younger brother, the person he had always competed with on the dance floor, whether swirling the girls around in jives and quicksteps or gliding in flowing waltzes. Frank and Alex Royal were famous for their dancing.

“You make the lass feel good,” Frank would explain to the men who asked him for his secret, “and she makes you look good.”

Alex had finally persuaded Jack to go to Eckert’s again. “I met this girl in Dover, an ATS lass. A Middlesbrough girl and she’s absolutely gorgeous. I said I’d meet her at the dance. I’ve already told her you’ll be there,” he’d pleaded, “and she’s bringing a friend as well, so I need you.”

“Perhaps, I’ll be okay if I stick to waltzes and quicksteps,” Frank had finally said, reluctant to let Alex have all the limelight. “If the friend’s better looking though you can’t swap,” he’d joked when Alex showed him the photograph of Clare, who was indeed a beauty.

“Trust you,” laughed Alex, “but I’ll give you a run for your money. Wait until you meet Clare though. She’s the best the partner I’ve ever had. She knows what you want her to do before you know yourself”.

It was hard to think there was a war on that Saturday. Eckert’s was crowded. The Middlesbrough docks were full. Most of the sailors seemed to have heard about the best dance hall in town. The usual chatter was punctuated with unfamiliar accents and languages. The girls were especially excited, pleased that they would not be dancing with each other tonight.

When Clare arrived Frank recognised her immediately. Without the hat hiding her wavy blonde hair she was even more beautiful than her photograph. Her large blue eyes looked in his direction and she smiled brightly. He liked her at once, feeling a twinge of jealousy and thrusting his hand deeper into his pocket.

Alex was already on the floor, jiving with an attractive, dark haired girl from the steel mill. “Hi, I’m Frank, Alex’s brother. He’s dancing just now,” Frank explained when he went over, looking in the direction of the dance floor.

“I can see that,” said Clare, “and I hope that’s not his sister, the way he is dancing with her. Fancy giving them some competition?” she suggested.

“OK,” said Frank, without thinking. Then he panicked, realising there was no way he could jive without using his hand. “Shouldn’t we wait for your friend?” he prevaricated.

“Oh, she’s coming later, with my brother. Don’t worry, she won’t be jealous,” she laughed, as she pulled him towards the dance floor. “We can’t stand still during Pennsylvania 6-5000. I love the Glen Miller sound.”

Soon Frank was lost in the dance, his hand forgotten. Clare became an extension of the rhythm as they swirled across the floor. Frank didn’t come down to earth again until they walked back to the tables.

“Hey, hand over my girl,” said Alex. “Here’s your date,” he said, nodding in the direction of a stunning brunette who was walking towards them. Slimmer and taller than Clare, Trudy was clearly used to being the centre of attention.

Frank used the opportunity to buy a round of drinks to help him put his thoughts and inclinations in order. “Calm down, boy. It was only a dance, and she’s Alex’s date, not yours,” he chided himself. “Take control of yourself.”

By the time Frank returned with the drinks he had decided to play it safe, spend the rest of the night dancing with Trudy. If things went okay, he would ask her out to the pictures tomorrow night. He would leave Clare to Alex.

Trudy clearly appreciated his attention and was an excellent dancer. Frank’s self-confidence grew by the minute and by the end of the evening he was wondering why he had ever worried about his hand.

“Wasn’t that a brilliant night”, said Trudy as Alex and Frank walked her and Clare home. “The band was fantastic and it was a great crowd.”

“And there were no sirens to interrupt us,” said Clare. “Dad will be pleased. He’s on fire duty tonight.”

“Your Mum will be waiting up for us though,” warned Trudy, as they reached the house, “so don’t be surprised if you see the blackout blinds twitch,” she laughed.

The two girls gave Frank and Alex quick kisses on the cheek to send them on their way. The brothers were satisfied. They each had dates for the next night.

“I’m doing the right thing,” Frank told himself as he straightened his tie and checked his dark hair in the mirror the following evening. He was meeting Trudy outside The Hippodrome and wanted to make a good impression.

He appreciated the envious glances of other men as he walked up to Trudy and kissed her. “You certainly know how to treat a lady,” she said as she returned his kiss, a little less demurely than the night before.

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered, as he guided her to the back row.

Frank was pleased they had gone to see Hitchcock’s ‘Young and Innocent.’ He was a bit fed up with war films and was in the mood for a drama. It was also great to have an attractive girl snuggling up to you. It had been too long.

Trudy’s thoughts seemed to echo his own. “That was a good film, “she said afterwards. “The car chase was exciting but scary. I would love to drive a car someday.”

As they rounded a street corner, Frank pulled Trudy towards an alley entrance and kissed her. She responded warmly, draping her arms around his neck.

Frank was surprised that his heart twisted a little when he realised that the hair he was stroking was auburn, not blonde, and Trudy’s eyes were brown not blue.

“I still haven’t got Clare out of my system”, he cursed inwardly whilst smiling down at Trudy who was reminding him that she had to get home soon. Frank took Trudy to her door, leaving her with a discreet peck on the cheek – for her Mum’s sake. Girls’ mums were not to be messed with. He knew that from his own mother’s watchful eyes on his sisters.

Alex was buzzing as the two men got ready for the dance at Eckert’s the following Saturday. “I’m putting civvies on tonight for a change,” he said. Did I tell you Clare goes back to Dover on Tuesday? This will be her last dance this leave. Pity.”

Frank struggled to hide his disappointment. “When will she be back?” he asked trying to sound nonchalant.

“I don’t know,” Alex replied. “You know what it’s like nowadays. Could be months or even longer, depending on how the war goes.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to write to each other then,” said Frank.

“Hmm, probably,” said Alex, well known for NOT writing letters when he was away. “I sometimes think you never learned to put pen to paper,” his mother complained frequently.

“But, you’ll miss her, won’t you,” Frank said. “If I had a girl like that I’d take more care of her, you might lose her”.

Alex laughed, lightly. “Of course I’ll miss her – she’s good fun – but I won’t let it get me down. After all there’s a war on and we have to take love where we find it don’t we? Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

By the time they got to Eckert’s, Frank’s conscience was yelling at him. “It doesn’t make any difference what you think. Clare is Alex’s girl and she is out of bounds. You have a great girl in Trudy. Stick with her.”

The dance hall was throbbing. It was the last night in town for many who would be returning to their ships or barracks and back to the war. They were determined to have a good time.

Frank congratulated himself as he danced, not only with Trudy but with other girls in their party. None of them seemed to think twice about his hand. Above all, he had managed to avoid dancing with Clare. He knew how to play it safe.

After the interval the jiving began in earnest. Trudy grabbed Alex after the first few dances. “Come on, sailor boy,” she said, “I think you’ve been avoiding me. I can’t let you get away with that.”

Alex laughed and bowed in an exaggerated manner. “How can I resist you M’lady when you drag me away like this? Come on let’s show ‘em how it’s done.”

After the jive, the bandleader announced that the next dance, a quickstep, was going to have a spot prize. Alex and Trudy stayed on the floor.

Frank thought about asking Clare to dance but decided that it was safer not to, in spite of her inviting smile across the table.

Sure enough, Alex and Trudy won the prize. They stayed on the floor for the next dance, a waltz.

“Would you like to dance?” Frank found himself asking Clare when he spotted Joe Briggs on his way over. The words just seemed to come out of his mouth without his thinking about them.

“Sure,” said Clare, “after all it is my last night here for some time.” She sounded a little sad.

Frank wanted that dance to last forever. It felt so right to hold Clare in his arms, smell the scent of her hair and feel her next to him. “Can it be so wrong?” he thought, justifying holding her closer than he perhaps should.

When the bandleader asked if they wanted an encore the roar of assent from the dancers nearly lifted the roof. Frank looked over to Alex and saw that he and Trudy had their arms wrapped around each other, joining in the shout. He looked down at Clare, concerned that she might be upset.

“They make a good looking couple, don’t they?” Clare said. “I knew they would hit it off as soon as I met Alex in Dover. They are so alike.”

Frank was ecstatic. “So, can I write to you while you are away,” he asked “and see you again when you come home?”

“I’d like that,” said Clare as she fitted into his arms for the last waltz, the first of many more to come. Frank knew who he would be walking home that night, brother or no brother.