The damage from the bombing raid the night before was minimal, with the only fatality being a coconut tree that had been cut in half. The rest of the bombs had fallen into Cleveland Bay, but the whole town was talking about the narrow escape.
At the dinner table her parents were discussing the events.
‘This is the third raid. I really think we should consider going down to Iris’s house in Sydney,’ her mother was saying.
‘If this is the best the Japs can do, we don’t have much to worry about.’
‘Maybe the girls—’
‘I’m not going to Sydney,’ Evelyn cut in. She’d have to leave her friends behind . . . and Jimmy.
‘No one’s going anywhere,’ said her father. ‘Besides, if we left, the Yanks would probably move into the house and we’d never get the bloody thing back.’
And that, it seemed, was the end of that. Evelyn took her plate to the sink and rinsed it, distracted by the panic the thought of leaving Jimmy had caused her. Her thoughts returned to the kiss they’d shared and she jumped when the cutlery slipped from her fingers and clattered into the sink.
‘Careful, love,’ her mother chided from the table.
‘Sorry,’ Evelyn mumbled.
‘Your mother tells me you’re going out again tomorrow night,’ said her father gruffly.
Evelyn froze momentarily, before forcing a calmness to her expression and turning to look at her father. ‘That’s right. Jimmy will be there.’
‘What would Roy think about that?’
‘Seeing as Roy sent him here to visit us, I’d say he wouldn’t have a problem with it.’ A mixture of anger and guilt flooded her. Anger because she resented having to think about Roy when she was feeling so happy; guilt because she was forced to remember she shouldn’t be happy, she had no right to be having these feelings while she was engaged to another man.
‘I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right to me.’
A swell of irritation made her answer more tersely than normal. ‘After everything he’s done for us, you expect me to turn down an invitation?’
Her father frowned at that but said, ‘Make sure you’re home early. I don’t want any rumours starting up. You don’t want word getting back to Roy that you’ve turned into some floozy like that Rowland girl.’
Even though she wanted to defend her friend, there was no way she could when everything her father had heard about Dolly was true, and more. The Rowlands had always been no-hopers, according to her dad. Dolly’s father had worked on the railways until his back had given out on him and he’d turned to drink. It fell to Dolly’s mother, a skinny woman with a long face, to take in people’s washing and ironing in order to feed the family. The older sons were always in trouble, and rumour was they were in cahoots with some Yanks who were making a lot of money on the black market. Evelyn had always had to fight hard their entire childhood in defence of that friendship, and it seemed things hadn’t changed all that much now they were older.
There had been no further air raids, and the party-like nightlife continued on unabated for both civilians and military personnel alike. She’d tried to talk herself out of going to the dance tonight, but the truth was she wanted to be with Jimmy again. Everything about this situation was wrong, and yet she didn’t want to resist the pull he had on her.
The band was playing a slow, soft jazz number and Jimmy gathered Evelyn close. She circled her arms around his neck and rested her cheek against his chest.
‘Are you having a good time?’ Jimmy asked, bending his head towards her ear. She felt a small shiver run through her at the intimate gesture.
‘I am. Thank you.’
Jimmy stopped moving and Evelyn looked up at him in surprise. ‘What is it?’ she asked warily.
‘I’ve been struggling, Evie, ever since the day I met you,’ he said. ‘I’ve tried to stay away from you, but the thought of not seeing you makes me break out in a cold sweat.’
‘Jimmy,’ she said, then faltered as she saw his pained look.
‘I know you’re Roy’s girl,’ he said, ‘but I can’t get you out of my head.’
Evelyn opened her mouth to reply but no sound came out. This was crazy. It was worse than crazy, it was wrong . . . So why was her heart doing backflips inside her chest?
‘Say something, Evie,’ he said, sounding anguished by her silence.
‘I . . . Jimmy . . .’
‘Mind if I cut in, mate?’
Evelyn’s gaze flew to the soldier in Australian uniform who stood behind Jimmy, tapping him on the shoulder.
‘As a matter of fact I do,’ Jimmy said, his hold tightening fractionally on her waist. ‘We’re in the middle of something.’
‘Let me rephrase it for you, Yank. I’m cutting in.’
Jimmy shook off the soldier’s hand and turned to face him. ‘Take a hike, pal.’
‘Bloody Yanks, you think you can just come in here and take our women?’ He looked Evelyn up and down before spitting on the ground at her feet. ‘Fine, I don’t want any Yank’s whore anyway.’
The hit came hard and fast and Evelyn found herself pushed backwards into the couple behind. Within seconds a crowd had circled the two men exchanging punches. The Australian soldiers cheered their man on, and the Americans, far outnumbering the Australians, did likewise. Jimmy was more agile than the stockier Australian and managed to duck and weave, avoiding the majority of the hits, landing a few solid blows to the Australian’s stomach. The Aussie doubled over briefly, then rallied and hit Jimmy a smashing blow to the side of his head. Evelyn could only stare on, hands across her mouth to contain her horrified gasps. Already Jimmy’s eye was beginning to swell, and a cut to his lip was dripping blood across his face. The Australian wasn’t faring much better; despite their differences in build they seemed fairly evenly matched. It wasn’t long before smaller fights broke out around the hall and the dance floor became a battlefield. The band had stopped playing and were hurriedly dragging their instruments off the stage. Evelyn searched the room for Dolly and found her laughing and cheering on Teddy, who was weaving and ducking to avoid another man’s wild swings.
Evelyn felt her wrist being grabbed and began to struggle wildly until she realised it was Jimmy, and she allowed him to drag her out of the melee, dodging and weaving. He shielded her from the fighting as they made their way towards a back door, down a narrow laneway and out into the street. Military police had converged upon the hall, dragging away uniformed men and doing their best to stop the chaos.
She couldn’t look at him. Now that the shock had worn off, her face flooded with shame as the Australian’s words came back to haunt her. Whore, he’d called her. Evelyn turned away and began walking. What had she done? How could she have allowed her emotions to get so out of control? The soldier was right, she was no better than a common whore. Roy was off fighting a war, putting his life in danger every day, and here she was out dancing and falling in love with an American! What on earth could she have been thinking?
For a little while they walked in silence, and from the corner of her eye she saw Jimmy gingerly touching his jaw.
‘Evelyn, hold up a minute,’ he said.
‘How badly are you hurt?’ she asked, stopping. He’d wiped most of the blood off, but his eye still looked red and no doubt he’d eventually have a black eye.
‘It’s nothing serious,’ he dismissed, looking closely at her. ‘What about you? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said. But she was angry . . . at herself more than anyone.
‘Look, I’m sorry about the fight.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said and turned to walk away, but he stopped her, taking hold of her arm.
‘It does matter. I would never have put you in a position like that if I could have helped it, but there was no way that guy was getting away with what he said.’
‘I said it doesn’t matter,’ she said, jerking her arm out of his grip.
‘Damn it, Evelyn. Stop,’ he snapped. ‘Is this because of what I said before?’ His voice had lost its softness and there was an urgency to it now. ‘Tell me you don’t feel the same way about me. Tell me you haven’t thought of me almost every second of the day since you first met me,’ he demanded roughly.
She had never been able to lie very well. ‘This . . . can’t happen.’
‘It’s too late, Evie, it’s already happened. You can no sooner stop having feelings for someone than hold back the tide.’
‘You don’t have feelings for me . . . you’ve just been away from girls for a very long time, and you’re just missing . . . that.’ Evelyn frowned. She couldn’t bring herself to imagine Jimmy having sex with some other woman, couldn’t say it out loud.
‘I haven’t been away from girls all that long, and I’m pretty sure I know the difference between that and what I’m feeling for you.’
For a moment she imagined herself and Jimmy locked in a passionate embrace, like the romances Dolly sighed over in movies. She wasn’t sure where all these lustful thoughts and feelings were coming from, she sure hadn’t experienced them with Roy. In fact the closest she and Roy had ever come to . . . that . . . had been a night of ardent kissing when they’d found out he was leaving the next day for basic training.
‘You need to find a girl who can show you a good time,’ she snapped, angry that the thought of him with someone else stung so terribly.
‘I don’t want any other girl.’
‘Jimmy, I’m engaged . . .’ Her words faltered as he moved in closer and the scent of his aftershave filled her senses.
He kissed her with the lightest of touches, but gradually his lips became more urgent, sending liquid fire through her veins.
Roy had never kissed her like this. The thought was enough to shock her to her senses and she pushed at his chest until she could squirm free of his embrace. Angry tears filled her eyes as self-loathing swelled up inside her. ‘Leave me alone, Jimmy. Go back and find some other woman willing to show you a good time.’
‘What the hell are you saying?’ he said, his expression furious.
‘I’m saying this is wrong and I don’t want to see you any more.’
‘Evie,’ he pleaded.
Evelyn shook her head but held strong. ‘You’re not falling in love with me,’ she said firmly, ‘and I’m not in love with you.’
She caught the flash of pain that crossed his face and quickly turned away. This was insane. There was no future for them, she had to end it before it got completely out of control. Being called a whore tonight had been a slap across the face. It was a wake-up call, a warning that if she didn’t stand up to this now it would be too late and the damage to everyone would be irreparable. She quickly crossed the street and ran along the footpath, not stopping until she reached her front gate. As she climbed the stairs, she paused, her gaze drawn to the forlorn figure watching her from the shadows at the end of the street and fought the urge not to run back.