It was a real rarity for everyone to be stuffed into the car together.
“Louie! Stop – sitting – on – my – dress!” Eliza growled, banging her fist against Luis’ leg with each word.
“‘Ey! I won’t have none of dat!”
There were reasons for why we were rarely stuffed in the car together. I sighed, wishing I could press my head against the window for some space as Dad trundled the car along the road, but I was forced to take the seat behind Dad’s because Luis was so lanky and had to sit behind mum, where her chair was pulled up closer to the dashboard. The green, fluffy feathers on the hair pin that Nancy lent to me was clipped into the swirl of my dark, brown hair to match with the emerald green velvet swing dress. Suddenly I was wishing that I’d gotten a lift from Nancy and Michael instead now.
Louie tutted slightly, trying to close his legs more to give Eliza more space. It wasn’t that he was purposefully trying to annoy her, rather that he just took up more space that he used to before. He leaned up, scooping the ruffed taffeta of Eliza’s dress to pool it onto her lap before sitting himself back down with a sigh.
“We’re almost there. We’re going to be on our best behaviour now, aren’t we everyone? No more fighting.” Mum asked, dabbing her finger into her tube of red lipstick to tap it against her lips once more. Her touch-ups on her face were becoming more and more frequent the closer we got to the Hall.
“Yes, Mummy.”
“I’m not a kid any more-”
“Den stop actin’ like one,” Dad harrumphed, leading the car down the quiet country lane to pull in towards the big farm house that the Ball was being held in. The house stood on a slight slope, shining brightly against the darkening sky. Music danced its way out towards us, becoming louder and louder as the car found its way along the dark, tree lined road to the gravelled car park.
The car engine had barely been turned off before we all clambered out, desperate to get some space. The journey was less than 15 minutes, but being cramped together like that made it feel like hours. I ran my hand down the soft velvet of the front of my dress to straighten it out, only to feel my mother’s hand tug at the back of my hem to fix it for me, “There we are…” she whispered softly, before standing straight once more to look at me, “You look gorgeous, you know. There’s going to be loads of fine young men here, desperate to have a dance with you. Who knows what’ll happen!”
“Me,” Dad muttered, taking out his cigar box to tap a cigar against it. It was as he held it between his lips, about to raise a stricken match to its end that he stopped, caught in the headlights of my mother’s threatening look. The cigar was promptly replaced in its container, “Them boys ain’t goin’ near you.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle and shake my head, “I’m 24, Dad.”
“‘Xactly. Still a baby.”
“I’ve had a boyfriend before-”
“Just a boy ‘dat were your friend.”
“-you met Jack. We were dating for two years.”
“Were you married?”
“What? No! You know-”
“Den he were just your friend,” My dad reiterated, heading in towards the Hall, with Liz and Luis following after.
Mum gently shook her head, a grin spreading on her face, “Just you ignore him. I’m excited to see how many boys ask you to dance!” she squealed, linking her arm with mine to lead us to the doorway.
A small table was set up near the entrance of the door, where a young man wearing his uniform was sat beside a blonde woman in a red dress. Her lips matched the colour of her dress, and the beaming smile on her face was enchanting. Everyone here was dressed up on their finery, the women like glittering gems and jewels, the men in either suave suits or in their khaki coloured uniforms, their badges and shoes shined to a shiny gloss. Children weaved in and out between legs and Eliza grinned and yanked on Mum’s hand when she noticed a friend, before barrelling away when she had permission to go play whilst we stayed in the queue to get our tickets checked.
As we inched towards the front, I could see the blonde’s smile faltering. Her brows furrowed for a second, before she looked back towards the old couple she was taking tickets from, directing them towards the hall and the sound of big band music. She then leaned in towards her partner, whispering in his ear and his eyes caught mine. Mine quickly fell to the floor.
That dark, heavy familiar feeling filled my chest. Things felt like they were moving in slow motion as I found myself chanting a quiet prayer in my mind. *Please not tonight. Not tonight. Not when everyone is here, in a good mood. Please don’t do this tonight. Not when everyone’s looking so great. *Luis looked so smart. Mum had to let out his suit a bit more since last year. His shoulders had gotten so broad… Dad even hunted down a pair of tights for Mum. It took him days to find someone with them and he gave up a few of his good cigars for them, too.
The closer we got to the front, the more uncomfortable the ticket checkers became, their smiles becoming stretched into grimaces. Luis nudged me slightly and nodded his head imperceptibly towards the table before glancing at me with a concerned look on his face. He knew.
Whereas everyone else got warm welcomes and some friendly banter, the woman and the soldier sat quietly, passing the tickets that my Dad had held out. Their scrutiny over the tickets was long and silent. The looked at the paper like they were £1000 bank notes, turning them over in their hands. The tension in Dad’s shoulders almost made him shudder.
“It’s a nice night out for it. Bit chilly though, right?” Mum simpered, rubbing her gloved hands together in a display of peace.
A slight nod was the only response before the soldier cleared his throat, “How did you find these tickets?”
“Ah din’ find ’em. We were invited.”
“Really? And your name?” Chipped in the blonde bombshell, straightening her back as she picked up her pencil to scan through the list of names set before her.
“1^st^ class Private Winston Fredrick Fraser-”
“And how did you get invited, Mr Fraser?”
Luis shook his head as Dad shuffled from one foot to the other, pressing his hands to his hips. We knew the exact look on his face at this moment, the exact moment that was the calm before the storm, “The post.”
“The post?”
“Yes.”
“And who was it sent from?”
“Ye want to know who sent me the invite?” Dad’s voice was starting to rise slightly.
“Yes.”
“What’s yer pro’lem, boy?”
“Excuse me?”
“Ah, ye’ deaf? I said ‘what’s yer pro’lem, boy?’”
“Win-”
“No, Sar. Did ya’ see dis man interrogate anyone else?”
“I wasn’t interrogating-”
“Why do ya need to know who sent me the invitation?”
“Sir, we need to verify-”
“Is my name on dat list?” Dad gestured to the paper, held in the woman’s trembling hand.
“Well-”
It sounded like the music was quieter now. Luis lingered closer to me, shaking his head again in embarrassment. People in the queue behind us where staring and tutting.
“Is it on the list?”
“Y-yes, sir, but-”
“Den what’s the-”
“Private Fraser. Loud as ever, I see.”
Heads turned towards the soft clacking of a walking stick against the wooden floorboards of the lobby. An older gentleman gripped onto the mahogany wooden cane, leaning into it for badly needed support as he hobbled towards us. Instantly, the soldier at the table stood to attention, holding his stance, along with my father.
A dismissive wave of his paper white hand uncoiled my dad’s frame, “At ease, men. If we can’t be at ease today of all days, when can we be? I’d assume everything is going well here?” He asked, coming to a stop with a slight sway, as though he was struggling to find his centre of balance.
The solider glanced at Dad, a look of fear on his face. The fact that this man seemed to recognise Dad was off putting.
“Well, sir, we were simply-”
“Dey won’t let us in.”
“That’s not what-”
The man came in a little closer, picking up the ticket from the table. He picked up the ticket, holding it out at arms length to check it, “Yes… I can see the problem here. It’s my handwriting. Even I can hardly make out my signature from chicken scratching…” He handed the papers back to the blonde and nodded once more, “Isn’t that a mighty embarrassment? You’d think I’d use my best handwriting for the man who saved my life, but there we are.”
“Ya best handwritin’ wasn’t legible anyway,” Dad smirked, coming in closer towards the man.
“Still impertinent as well. Time hasn’t changed you at all, Winston!” The man chuckled, hitting my Dad’s leg jovially with his cane, before he turned promptly on his heel, hobbling back towards the music, “It hasn’t changed you at all. Still haven’t introduced me to your family yet either. And I thought we were close.”
Straggling behind the group, I grabbed Luis’s arm to get his attention as I whispered, “Is this really-”
“I think so. Captain Wright? I mean, Dad always went on about saving someone’s life, but… I always thought he was just-”
“Me too. I mean, he was a mechanic. So Dad actually killed a man.”
“I guess. I think I preferred when it was just a story.”
“Me too. Go find Liz before she does something to get us kicked out.”
“Easy enough. Once I tell her we found a Captain, she’ll start asking about boats all night.”
“God help him. He might wish Dad did let him die.”