By lunchtime, Temperance was pleased to see Maisie’s tears had dried. She and Violet had been given the job of cleaning the ticket booth. Somehow, she thought Violet needed a bit of time away from her sister and thankfully the younger girl had been asked by Bill to help Larry get the ballroom ready for that evening’s dance, something she had been overjoyed with.
‘Need some help?’ Temperance asked, spotting Violet who appeared to be buried in a pile of hangers.
‘No, I’m fine,’ Violet said, in what Temperance guessed to be a brave tone.
‘Well, I’ve finished dusting, so why don’t I lend a hand anyway?’
At the suggestion Violet looked relieved and Temperance smiled. She remembered only too well how eager she had been to impress when she first started and had thought the idea of accepting any offer of help would be taken as a sign of weakness.
‘Thanks,’ Violet said, looking up at her gratefully. ‘I’ve been a bit overwhelmed.’
Temperance shrugged as she reached for a handful of hangers and started dusting them off. ‘Easily done. Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate.’
‘I suppose,’ Violet replied looking uneasy.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,’ Temperance said. ‘Look, you’ll soon learn, we look out for each other round here.’
‘I’m beginning to see that,’ Violet said. ‘It’s nice. I just don’t want to be a burden that’s all. Me and Maisie ain’t been here five minutes and already she’s sobbing in the corridors.’
‘Don’t worry, there’s always drama at the Palais,’ Temperance replied. Violet smiled and Temperance saw an opportunity. The new girl looked like she needed to talk.
‘Sorry to hear about your brother.’
‘Yes, it was only a few weeks ago,’ Violet said. Her chin lifted as if she were willing herself not to give in to the same tears her sister had earlier that day.
‘And now your dad’s gone to fight too,’ Temperance said, admiringly. ‘You must be proud.’
‘Proud?’ Violet snapped, the worried look she had worn seconds earlier now replaced with one of defiance. ‘I couldn’t give a brass monkey’s what that man does. The only thing I care about is that he’s gone and is no longer poncing off me mother – a fact Maisie can’t get her head around.’
At the outburst Temperance raised an eyebrow. ‘Sorry. I didn’t know…’
Lost for words, her voice trailed off as Violet shook her head. ‘No, it’s me, I’m sorry. I know you’re not s’posed to say things like that about your old man but my dad, well he’s not a nice fella.’
Temperance felt sorry for Violet and was about to offer some words of comfort when she heard someone knock lightly on the cabin desk.
Looking up she grinned in surprise as she saw it was her older brother Eamon.
‘What are you doing here?’ she gasped. ‘Shouldn’t you be up the docks?’
‘We’ve got a massive timber shipment from America coming in later so I’m not due in till five,’ he explained. ‘I just came in to talk to Nancy. I saw her the other day and she said she wanted me to play piano up the bar or something.’
Temperance nodded. ‘She’s in a meeting but should be finished soon.’
Eamon fiddled anxiously with the thick felt cap in his hands. ‘You got a minute, T?’
Glancing back at Violet and seeing she was still knee-deep in hangers, Temperance guided Eamon to the other side of the desk.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘You know how I went back to the recruiting office? Said I wanted my call-up papers?’
Temperance nodded. ‘And?’
‘They said I was a dockworker so I was in a reserved occupation,’ he said with a touch of defiance.
‘Which is true,’ Temperance said. Eamon might be five years older than her but he had to be handled like an overwrought toddler when he was in this mood.
‘It might be true but I think there’s more to it,’ Eamon said.
‘Like what?’ Temperance asked, her heart heavy.
‘Like when I’d left I heard them laugh and say they’d only make exceptions for those of pure European descent into the armed forces,’ Eamon said now, the last few words spoken in an exaggerated plummy accent.
As Temperance looked into her brother’s wide, open face she felt something like relief flood through her.
‘So the recruiting office has said you can’t join up?’ she asked slowly.
Eamon shook his head and gave a hollow laugh. ‘That’s right. All I want is to do right by the country I love, that my father loved and was proud to call home. But the colour of my skin says otherwise.’
Temperance leaned across the counter and squeezed her brother’s shoulder. Whilst she might be relieved and she knew her mother Enid certainly would be, she could appreciate how upsetting this was for Eamon. Still, she dreaded to think what Winnie might have said. She loved her aunt but Winnie was nosey. Always wanting to know what Temperance was doing at the dance hall, always checking she didn’t have a sweetheart. Temperance knew what she was really asking. Winnie didn’t want to see Temperance with a white boy. A proud Ghanaian black woman, Winnie wanted to see her mixed-race niece with someone of her own kind.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last. ‘I know how disappointed you must be.’
‘Disappointed?’ Eamon slammed the desk with his hand. ‘I’m not disappointed, I’m angry and you should be too. Aren’t you sick of being treated like this?’
Temperance flinched. She thought of all the injustice she had faced in the world because of the colour of her skin. Yes, she was angry, but what could she do?
‘But you are in a reserved occupation,’ she pointed out. ‘And you know that despite what those men said, the colour bar has changed, the government lets non-whites in now.’
Eamon made a face, his dark eyes full of wrath. ‘They suggested I should be happy doing my duty down the docks and if I want anything more I should join the Auxiliary Fire Service instead.’
‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Temperance put in. She had seen the adverts for volunteer firemen all over the Underground stations and knew how much they were needed.
‘It’s a terrible idea,’ Eamon growled. ‘It’s why I’m going to see Doctor Moody.’
At the mention of the legendary doctor who lived in south-east London and led a respected movement for equality amongst the races, Temperance let out a start of surprise.
‘Why?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Eamon looked at her in disbelief. ‘He’s like us. A coloured man married to a white woman, and he’s fighting prejudice. He’ll help, I know he will.’
‘Why not leave it, Eamon?’ Temperance said quietly. ‘There’s so much going on now, and Ma needs you.’
Eamon shook his head, his jaw set. ‘This isn’t just about me or you, this is about our race, our culture. Doctor Moody can help. You should come with me to one of his meetings at the church instead of burying yourself in the dance hall all the time.’
Temperance looked up at him in surprise. Eamon had never rebuked her before. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means you’re so busy trying to fit in with all these white folks, you’re forgetting your roots,’ Eamon snapped.
Temperance bristled. ‘I am not! I’m the only black girl what works here. It’s pretty hard to forget my roots when I’m reminded how different I am every day.’
‘And that’s my point, sis,’ Eamon said, with a sigh. ‘Don’t you want to stop going through life feeling different, as if you’re not good enough?’
For a moment Temperance felt overwhelmed. Her mind was buzzing with a hundred different thoughts, none of which she could hold on to. She knew she wanted things to change. Temperance certainly didn’t want to be different, but she also recognised that was the way it was and always had been. It seemed too tough a battle to win.
She closed her eyes for a moment and thought of their mother – a white woman married to a black man. Temperance remembered all too well the slurs and abuse that had been hurled at her, not to mention the violence. She recalled as a child how her mother had returned home after finishing work at the bakery, her face covered in bruises. She had been beaten by a gang of white men who had accused her of being disloyal to her race.
Her father had taken care of her, cleaned up her cuts, held her while she cried but together the two of them had been stoic. They had each other, they loved one another and that wouldn’t change, not for a gang of thugs.
‘How sad for those men,’ her father had said later. ‘That they will never know the power of true love. That they are so frightened of something they can’t understand that they have to turn to violence. That is never the answer, no matter how big the argument.’
They were words Temperance had immediately understood but Eamon, she feared, did not. Looking at him now, she saw the anger in the whites of his eyes and noticed his jaw was clenched. Her brother was a handsome man, everyone knew it. Tall and broad-shouldered with large round eyes that were always filled with kindness and a smile that lit up his entire face, Eamon always caught people’s attention and most of the time Temperance was happy to bask in his shadow. This however was different. Temperance knew that although Dr Moody’s organisation, the League of Coloured Peoples, was a peaceful one, there was every chance her brother might take matters into his own hands with the right sort of encouragement.
Hearing the sound of Violet behind her, she came to and remembered her manners.
‘Sorry, Violet, this is my brother Eamon,’ she said, gesturing between her brother and the new girl. ‘Eamon, this is Violet, she just started here this week.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Violet said with a smile. ‘You must be the pianist I’ve heard about. You play up your aunt’s club, don’t you?’
Eamon gave Violet a warm grin. ‘Word travels fast.’
‘Sounds ever so glam,’ Violet gushed.
‘About as glam as working at the Palais I imagine,’ Eamon said looking around him and then back to Violet. ‘I’ll get you a ticket if you like, maybe when you’ve got a night off? You could come down and I’ll treat you to a port and lemon in my break.’
Violet nodded earnestly. ‘I’d like that.’
Eamon held her gaze. ‘Yeah I would too.’
Temperance watched the exchange with interest. Her brother was clearly smitten with Violet. He often courted girls, but she had never seen her brother look so happy in another woman’s company before. Glancing across at Violet the new girl looked equally drawn to her brother. She watched the two laugh and smile as they chatted and felt a warm feeling flood through her. Could Eamon have discovered staying in Hammersmith might have its advantages?