“You just disappeared with her. It’s like you forgot we were even here.”
“I didn’t forget, Tabby girl,” he replied placidly. “And I’m back now. What say you to the 400 Club for a spell? The cocktails will be a far sight nicer than they are here.”
“Fine. But I insist you stay with us from now on. Darling Caro had no one to dance with at all after you went off with that shopgirl.”
“I’ll stay. Promise I will.”
Miriam stole a glance at Ann. Her friend’s eyes were following the man as he departed, a wondering and faintly dreamy expression on her face. She hoped Ann hadn’t heard the other woman’s nasty comment.
“Good—now they’re out of the way. Tell us everything,” Ethel insisted.
“There isn’t much to say. He asked me to dance, and after two songs they started up with the jitterbug, and neither of us knew the steps. So he bought us some lemonade and we sat and talked for a bit. He seemed very nice.”
“Very posh is how he seemed,” Doris said. “Did you see what those girls were wearing? And the jewelry they had on?”
“I know,” Ann admitted. “I’m still not sure . . . I mean, why me?”
“Because you look very pretty tonight,” Miriam said abruptly. The time for doubts was tomorrow, not now. “He saw you and said to himself, ‘I want to dance with that pretty girl.’ It is as simple as that.”
“Are you going to see him again?” asked Doris.
“I don’t know. He asked me to ring him up. He said he wanted to see me again.” She set a business card upon the table, its corners bent from where it had been clutched in her hand. “But I don’t know. I don’t think I should go.”
“Why ever not?” Carmen asked. “There’s no harm in having supper with the man.”
“I suppose not. Except I don’t have anything to wear. This frock is the only really nice thing I have.”
“Then you must wear my suit,” Miriam said. “My good suit that I had made in Paris. We are much the same size.”
“I couldn’t. I—”
“Come on,” Carmen said, her patience fraying. “It’s a chance for you to kick up your heels and see how the other half lives. If he’d asked me I’d be off like a shot.”
“But what if . . .”
“What if he’s the sort that thinks a girl should pay for a night out one way or another?” Ruthie asked, oblivious to her friends’ shared expression of dismay. “Oh, honestly. I know you’re all thinking the same thing. And I’m only being practical.”
“So? What should she do?” Ethel asked.
“If he pushes you to go anywhere with him after, you say you can’t,” Ruthie reasoned. “You have to be at work the next morning, or your mum and dad are waiting up for you—I know, I know, but how’s he to know? And then you ask someone at the restaurant to call you a cab and you take it to the nearest Tube station. He won’t know where you’ve gone, and that’ll be an end of it.”
Ann nodded, taking it all in, and then she turned to Miriam. “What do you think?”
“I think a restaurant is safe enough, but I agree with Ruthie. Do not agree to go anywhere else with this man. Even if he suggests something like a nightclub. Not until you know him better.”
“Did he say what he does for a living?” Doris asked.
“He’s a captain in the army, but he can’t really talk about his work. He says it’s all rather hush-hush.”
“Hmm. I don’t like the sound of that,” Ethel said.
“Probably working in Whitehall. None of them are allowed to talk about it,” Carmen speculated.
“See?” Doris asked, undeterred. “It’s probably something very secret and important.”
It was time for a change of subject. “What is the time?” Miriam asked the group. “Is it not the case that Ann and I must leave by ten o’clock so we do not miss our train?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course. I suppose we must be going.” Ignoring the others’ cries of disappointment, they said their farewells and made their way upstairs to street level.
“Do you mind that I suggested we leave?” Miriam asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk. It was so wonderfully cool outside, at least compared to the insufferably hot ballroom.
“Not at all. If we’d stayed they’d have kept badgering me all evening. And I was more than ready to go. The music was starting to give me a headache.”