Cameo is shell. Did you know that?
Course I did, said Peg （even though she didn’t）。
I didn’t, he said, and he held the brooch to his ear.
Can you hear the sea? she said.
He shook his head. Nope. Just a little voice, he said, screwing up his face.
What’s it say?
Let’s go back to yours, and Eddie laughed.
Peg didn’t laugh.
We can’t, though, Eddie. I told you that. I thought we were going to a hotel.
It was the brooch or a room, he said. And I thought you’d like the brooch.
Peg drank past the borders of romantic and ended up against a wall under a railway arch. It was a monochrome night and shards of moonlight scattered across black cobbles and highlighted glimpses of Peg’s white flesh. Her American soldier was kissing her hard and he’d promised her a room but got her a brooch instead and there they were, up against a wall with a cheap bunch of flowers at her feet.
He was fumbling around, looking for the Western Front, and she said he’d have to go further south to find it.
There we go, she said and he groaned.
She liked the way he said Baby. Liked the way he said, I’ve never met a girl like you, Peg. Liked the way he fucked her. But all she could think of was that he’d promised her a room, and she tried to push the thought aside but the more he kept pounding her into the wall, the more that room came back to taunt her.
You promised me a room, she said.
I know, I know, he said, all busy like. Next time, he said.
I don’t do next time, she suddenly said and dropped her leg.
Stop, she said. I’m done, and she tugged on his rich boy hair.
Jeez Peg! What ya doing?
I said, Stop!
A train passed overhead, and the stones shook. Peg pulled down her skirt and took off across the road.
Peggy! her name echoed across the bricks. The sound of his footsteps after her.
Why can’t we go to yours? he said. You married or something?
No. I’m not ‘married or something’。 I live above a pub. Where I work. I’ve told you that a hundred times before. You promised me a room and you’ve suddenly gone cheap.
That brooch wasn’t—
Call me when you’ve booked the sheets, Eddie. But none of this one step away from whore. It’s too close.
She walked down to the canal with a hard as nails look across her face and even the rats steered clear. The bench was empty, and she sat down and lit a cigarette. A drunk stumbled along the towpath and was about to speak to her, but she said, Don’t you fucking dare, and her voice was like a blade, so he didn’t. She could handle herself, always had, and the city never frightened her, especially at night. The canal drew the lonely and the dreamers, and in that moment she was both.
She wanted out of here and American Boy was her out of here. California. New World. New Life. She was cupping that dream in both hands, careful not to spill not even a drop.
She rubbed her foot. She had the start of a bunion like her mum. The woman’d had big bloody chestnuts on the side of her feet; God help her if the similarity was working its way up. She lit a match and looked at her watch. Ten minutes past one. Out of the darkness that familiar face.
Come here often? said Cress.
We’re making a habit of this, she said.
Wanna go home?
Come on then, and he pulled her up and she towered over him. Cressy had once told her that he’d dreamt of being a jockey, on account of his size, but had ended up at the docks. And just once, he’d said, just once he’d’ve liked to ’ave gone on one of them boats.
You don’t have to travel the world to be worldly, she’d said.
You think I’m worldly?
No one worldlier. It’s what’s in here that counts, and she’d pointed to his stomach. Guts is where we love from, she’d said.
They climbed the steps back up to the street.
You love this Yankee fella? he asked but Peg didn’t answer.
Come on girl, you ain’t a kid no more.
Peg stopped and slipped on her shoes. Yeah, I love him. Like I’d die without him.
Blimey, you got it bad.
So don’t ask.
You tell him stuff? said Cress.
I tell him nothing.
Tell him something. Words, Peg. He might not be here forever.
You get told stuff?
Not so much. But words are gold dust to a decrepit old git like me.
You’re not decrepit, she said and opened her handbag. Here, have an orange.
Well, look at that, he said and held it up against the black sky. You know how this came into the world, Peg?
A couple of navels on a dirty weekend?