Eleven

It had just gone four and that afternoon’s tea dance was in full swing, as was Temperance’s good mood. She wasn’t sure if it was the news of the dance or the fact that Eamon seemed more enthusiastic about staying that was responsible for the fact she felt so happy. It simply felt wonderful to have a weight lifted from her shoulders.

As she watched the afternoon’s dancers, mostly women from the neighbouring streets that were at least as old as her Aunt Winnie, dance a slow foxtrot around the floor to the sound of Harry Leder’s orchestra, Temperance revelled in the moment.

For days now she had been worried about her brother and the trouble he might get into, whether at home or in the army. But perhaps with Violet to keep him interested along with the chance to prove his worth at the Palais, Eamon might find enough to keep him occupied. She was sure all her brother needed was a chance to shine and he would forget this nonsense about joining political groups. For a moment she thought of her father. He had been such an avid protestor too, fighting for racial equality. He had been amongst those who fought in the Battle of Cable Street a few years ago, proudly defending his people against Mosley’s fascist Blackshirts. He had paid the price for it, Temperance thought sadly, remembering how he had returned home with his arm in a sling, sprained, bruised and battered like the rest of him.

‘I’m fine, child,’ he had said as Temperance tried to fuss over him.

And to her surprise he had been. There had been a fire in his eyes she remembered as he told her mother and Winnie how he had stood up to be counted. He had always seemed so invincible to Temperance – until of course he wasn’t and he had slipped away, taken by an illness so cruel he had spent months of his life in pain before he died. Tuberculosis hadn’t taken her father’s spirit though, Temperance thought now. He had still been alive when she had begun work at the Palais.

‘Make something of yourself, girl,’ he had told her. ‘You have such passion in your heart.’

Remembering those words, she felt tears pool at the thought of her dad. He had always been the one to understand her, to encourage her in a way that would reach her, and even after a year there were moments she would catch herself, unable to believe she was making her way in a world without her beloved father. She thought of her brother; she couldn’t stand the idea of losing him too.

But now, as she blinked the tears from her eyes she turned to Violet. Watching her sort through the hangers, she felt a pang of happiness. Violet and her brother seemed so smitten she would do all she could to encourage it if it kept Eamon out of harm’s way.

‘You look lost in thought,’ said a voice behind her.

Whirling around in surprise Temperance came face to face with Maisie, her large green eyes dancing with delight.

‘And you look like the cat that got the cream,’ Temperance replied.

She stood up and set a hanger on the wooden counter as Maisie grinned up at her shyly, but her smile still reached the corners of her eyes.

‘Nah. It’s just nice to have something to look forward to.’

‘The dance you mean?’

Maisie nodded happily. ‘It’s all anyone can talk about.’

‘I’d noticed,’ Temperance replied drily.

‘Are you tempted to enter?’ Maisie asked.

Temperance looked at her aghast. ‘Me? I don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’

There was a pause and for a moment Temperance wondered how to explain to her younger colleague that her face didn’t always fit.

‘It’s just not my cup of tea,’ she said, with what she hoped was diplomacy.

‘I’d love to enter,’ Maisie replied dreamily.

Temperance looked at her in surprise. Maisie didn’t look like a dancer. Then again, she thought, watching Renee allow herself to be led around the floor with a face like a stopped clock, perhaps Maisie did have a touch of the dramatics, a necessary quality in a dancer.

‘Why don’t you then?’ Temperance suggested.

Now it was Maisie’s turn to look at her in surprise. ‘I couldn’t do that. I can’t dance for one thing.’

Temperance couldn’t help laughing at the look of horror on Maisie’s face. ‘You could always learn.’

‘And who’d teach me?’ Maisie demanded. ‘I can’t afford lessons here. Ma might not like us working up the Palais but she ain’t above taking our wages for housekeeping. I’ve got hardly anything left.’

It was all Temperance could do not to fall about laughing, Maisie looked so disgusted. Still, she reasoned it must be hard for her, what with her brother gone, father away God knows where and a mother she didn’t appear to get on with. Temperance bit her lip. She knew more than most how difficult relationships with mothers could be, no matter how much you might love them. For a moment Temperance felt a pang of sympathy for Maisie and wanted to help.

‘Why don’t I teach you?’ she suggested.

But the moment the words were out of her mouth she began to regret it as Maisie looked at her with such shock, she thought she had made a terrible mistake.

You can teach dance,’ Maisie gasped.

Temperance nodded. ‘I used to have lessons up my aunt’s club. Then I got good enough to teach others in my spare time.’

Maisie’s eyes were out on stalks. ‘Then why aren’t you entering the contest?’

Temperance shrugged. ‘I might be able to dance but this contest ain’t really meant for folks like me. Look around you.’ She waved her long caramel fingers over the crowded dance floor. ‘Do you see anyone that looks like me?’

Following her gaze, Temperance could see Maisie looked puzzled. ‘What, young? I don’t see anyone that looks like me either if that’s the case. Everyone here’s as old as the hills.’

‘No. Black, Maisie!’ Temperance rolled her eyes. She was becoming increasingly fond of Maisie but she could see why Violet lost patience with her younger sister.

At her outburst Maisie looked embarrassed and Temperance decided the best thing she could do was change the subject.

‘So what are we going to do about those dance lessons then?’ she said smoothly.

‘You’d really teach me?’

‘Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it,’ Temperance said sagely. ‘We can come in early before work. Or have a turn in the practice room before the tea dances.’

At the prospect Maisie’s eyes lit up, and Temperance could see her mentally working through the idea.

‘Are you sure it’s no trouble?’

‘I wouldn’t have said it if it was.’

‘Then I’d love to,’ Maisie said. ‘When can we start?’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘But what about a partner?’ Maisie said suddenly.

Temperance let out a throaty laugh. ‘Let’s see if you can dance first before we get too carried away eh? We can worry about a partner later.’

At that the girls cast their eyes across the floor at the sea of women. There was hardly a chap amongst them and those that were, were old enough to be their grandfathers. Temperance frowned. It was another casualty of war, the lack of available fellas to court. Not that she was interested anyway.

‘Can you come then?’

Temperance frowned, aware she was being brought swiftly back to reality. She turned to face Maisie who was looking at her impatiently.

‘Sorry, love, what did you say?’

A flicker of irritation passed across Maisie’s face. ‘I said, Nancy wants you in her office. She’s got something she needs help with.’

Following Maisie up to the office, Temperance wondered if she had done something wrong. As far as she knew Nancy was pleased with her work. And as she entered Nancy’s office, she saw to her relief that the New Yorker was wearing her usual trademark smile.

‘Temperance, thanks for coming, I won’t keep you long,’ she said, glancing at Maisie. ‘Can you shut the door on your way out, honey? Thanks.’

Motioning for Temperance to sit down on the battered, hard velvet chair opposite the wooden desk, Temperance met her smile.

‘Is this about the dance?’

Nancy shook her head, her brown hair bouncing on her shoulders.

‘No, but while you’re here I do want to talk to you about that. Can you take on fire-watching duties?’

‘Course. Would I do it alone?’

Nancy shook her head. ‘No, in an ideal world I’d want to pair you with a guy but so far I’ve only managed to persuade your brother, Alex and Eric the electrician to join the roster. Bill says he’s too old to spend cold winter nights in the open air.’

Temperance said nothing. She had a feeling Nancy knew she was thinking that this was yet another example of Bill Cain shirking his responsibilities simply because he thought he was better than everyone else.

‘More than likely you’ll be working with the girls. Renee will be able to tell you more, she’s heading up the roster – that is if I can actually spend more than thirty seconds in a room with her.’

‘Is Renee okay?’ Temperance frowned.

Nancy laughed. ‘No, she’s as angry as hell Edna and Bill are making decisions over her head and I don’t blame her. But the trouble is she blames me and it’s not my fault.’

Shaking her head, Nancy reached into her desk drawer. ‘Anyway, enough about that. Renee’s not why I asked you here, honey. I actually wanted to talk to you about a personal matter.’

As Nancy slid what appeared to be a newspaper cutting across the table, Temperance glanced at in surprise. It was a cutting about the Kindertransport.

‘I want to help some of these kids. Give ’em a place to stay, get ’em some work or put ’em through school. Whatever they need. I mean, don’t stories like that just break your heart?’

As Temperance read the cutting, she felt a pang of sympathy. Like everyone else she had heard of the plight of these Jewish children, lost without home, country or family. Torn apart from those they loved. It was something everyone across the land had been horrified to learn, and only made the spectre of Hitler even more terrifying. As she came to the end of the clipping Temperance understood perhaps more than most the plight of the Jewish children and she had a feeling that was why Nancy had asked for her help.

‘Does Mr Goldstein know about this?’ she asked, handing the clipping back to Nancy.

The front desk manager shook her head. ‘Well yes and no. I wrote him and told him about it. I mean his family’s from Austria, he’ll get it.’

‘And will Mrs Goldstein?’

At the question Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘Honey, I have no idea, but I can’t live my life worrying about Mrs Goldstein. So will you help?’

Temperance nodded. ‘Would they live with you in the flat upstairs?’

A broad grin broke out across Nancy’s face. ‘Yes. We have two spare rooms up there as well as an office. The Palais could be the perfect place to help these kids. I mean, you know what a night here can do. Look at the women we have through the doors every night, all looking for an escape from the doldrums of their existence.’

‘A night away from the drudgery of cooking, cleaning and the old man.’ Temperance laughed grimly, aware she had heard her aunt say much the same about the women that frequented her own club.

‘Something like that,’ Nancy said with a smile as she met Temperance’s gaze. ‘So what do you think? You in? I just need someone to help me with the paperwork, organise the kids into school, maybe come with me to meet the rabbi and vouch for my good character.’

Something like hope burned away inside Temperance at the question. In that moment she had a feeling she had been asked to take care of something really important, something that was bigger than the dance contest, and she wanted to show Nancy she had made the right choice by asking her.

‘Wouldn’t Renee be better suited?’ she asked nervously.

‘Because she’s my friend?’ Nancy countered.

‘That, and she’s older,’ Temperance said quietly.

‘Renee has a lot on her plate just now,’ Nancy said. ‘Admittedly she was the one that got me thinking about the Jewish kids, but I know how busy she is. So what do you think?’

A flush of pleasure crept through Temperance’s soul. ‘I’d love to.’

Nancy clapped her hands together with excitement. ‘That would be great. I’ll set up a meeting with the rabbi.’

‘All right,’ Temperance agreed, feeling a glow of pleasure begin to build at the idea of helping children that were in such desperate need.

She got to her feet, her mind already buzzing with ideas.

‘Temperance, can you keep this to yourself?’ Nancy called as Temperance reached the door. ‘I, uh, haven’t told anyone else about this yet and I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.’

A flash of understanding passed through the two women. Temperance knew immediately that she meant Bill Cain – who knew what could happen to their carefully hatched plan if he became involved?

‘Course. You can rely on me.’