‘Apologies for my tardiness,’ George said as Dorothy let him into the flat.
‘He means “lateness”,’ Dorothy told Angie, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
‘I’m hoping you two didn’t both spend your rent money at the Ritz last night?’
‘Nah,’ Angie said, going back into the kitchen and pouring George a cup of tea, adding just a little milk, which was the way he liked it.
‘But it was hard not to. We had a lot to celebrate.’ She put the teapot down on the kitchen table before getting the bourbons out of the cupboard and putting them on a plate.
‘Yer favourites,’ Angie said, sitting down and giving George her full attention.
George smiled. They went through the same ritual every week when he came to collect the rent.
‘I’m guessing the reason for your celebration was the rekindling of Polly and Tommy’s love affair?’ George smiled. Rosie had relayed the whole scene to them last night, along with how ecstatic Charlotte had been on hearing that Polly and Tommy were back together.
‘I think it was more than a “rekindling”,’ Dorothy chuckled. ‘An inferno more like!’
George suppressed a smile and took a big sip of his tea. He liked Dorothy’s dramatic take on life.
‘Has Rosie told yer?’ Angie said, pouring herself a cup.
‘About?’ George asked.
‘Have you seen Rosie today?’ Dorothy asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
George looked at Dorothy and then at Angie.
‘No, I’ve been out most of the afternoon.’
‘They’re living in sin!’ Angie couldn’t contain herself.
George looked confused.
‘Tommy and Polly!’ Dorothy and Angie said in unison.
‘Really?’ George was genuinely surprised.
‘Yes!’ Dorothy was bursting with excitement. ‘Polly’s moved in with Tommy.’
All the women had nearly choked on their tea and biscuits when Polly had told them at work this morning.
‘At the Major’s?’ George asked. Now this was quite a turn-up for the books.
Both women nodded.
‘The Major’s at the Grand,’ Angie informed.
‘Apparently there’s some big meeting of military minds going on there this week.’ Dorothy tapped her nose as though it were all top secret.
George thought it odd he’d not heard about it.
‘Said the flat’s Tommy’s to do with as he pleases. And if it pleases him to have Polly living there until he has to leave, then that’s fine with him,’ Dorothy improvised.
‘Really?’ Now George was intrigued. ‘That’s very kind of him.’
‘Very liberal,’ Dorothy said, eyes widening to stress her point.
‘Mmm,’ George agreed. ‘But what do you mean by “until he has to leave”?’
Dorothy and Angie’s enthusiasm seemed to deflate instantly.
‘That’s the downside to all this,’ Dorothy explained.
‘Tommy’s flying back out there on Boxing Day,’ Angie said.
‘Gosh.’ George felt his own heart go heavy. God only knew how Polly felt. Poor girl.
‘That’s jolly quick, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Angie said. ‘Jolly quick.’
Dorothy looked at her friend. She had never heard her use the word ‘jolly’ before.
‘They’re still going to get married, though,’ Dorothy said, grabbing a bourbon and biting into it.
‘Registry office,’ Angie said, pulling a face.
Dorothy looked at her friend again. She could be a number-one snob at times.
‘Bloody shame they didn’t kiss and make up before – then they’d at least have had a nice wedding,’ George mused, more to himself than to his tenants.
‘I know,’ Angie said. ‘Polly says she doesn’t mind.’
‘She’s not got much choice, by the sounds of it.’ George drank the rest of his tea. ‘Have they set a date next week?’
‘Nah,’ Angie said. ‘They’re just gonna grab whatever slot they can.’
‘They’re going tomorrow,’ Dorothy butted in. ‘To see when the registrar can fit them in.’
‘Dear me,’ George said, ‘it really is going to be a rather rushed affair.’
‘I knar, but if he’s gannin on Boxing Day they dinnit have much choice, do they?’ Angie said, finally taking a sip of her tea.
Dorothy noticed that whenever George visited, Angie drank her tea with her little finger sticking out as though she were lady of the manor. She’d have to rib her about it later.
‘Well, my dears,’ George said, pushing himself out of his chair with his stick. ‘This has been a most illuminating visit.’
‘Here’s the rent,’ Dorothy said, handing him an envelope with the money. ‘Best not forget it as Angie here is developing expensive tastes and I doubt very much there’d be owt left, as she’d say, by next week.’
George chuckled, stuffed the envelope into his inside pocket and bade the pair farewell.