Chapter Four
Deeta
The gesture is instinctive: I know where my locket is.
“I left it in the bathroom. Would you mind getting it for me?” I head to the wardrobe and take out my shoes. I’m pulling them on as Nella comes back into the room.
“You know; I thought you slept in this.” She laughs, running the platinum chain through her fingers. I laugh along with her, suddenly unwilling to admit that I do sleep in it when obviously she thinks that would be weird.
The necklace is very beautiful; its thick chain hangs to my waist with a large oval locket, delicately etched with an engraving inside. Uncle Jep thinks it’s Middle Eastern but he couldn’t translate the inscription. Tom gave it to me when I was fourteen after one of his trips ‘out’. I remember the night really clearly. Tom had come home tired and soaked to the bone, but with a grin like a Cheshire cat plastered across his face.
I had rarely taken the present off since, but wearing it in the bath was a no go. The locket part tended to fill with water and then leak over my clothes once I’d changed, hence its relegation to the bathroom shelf. I slip it over my head, and its familiar weight settles comfortably around my neck.
“Ready?” I ask.
Nella laughs and places her hands on her hips.
“If you remember, Deeta, I’ve been waiting for you for the best part of half an hour.”
Even as we enter the stairwell I can hear the faint hum of distant revelry. The night before the Guard goes out there is always a party. Everyone attends and it generally goes on until about two o’clock.
I don’t think I’ve ever stayed later than half past ten, that’s when I take the children down to bed. Professor Jepsjon usually comes with me, but Tom stays until the bitter end. Nella tells me that he spends most of the time talking to Ralph. I’m not sure but I think she vaguely resents it.
As we push into the dance hall the first thing I see is Keya and Jamie. I can hardly help it as they are the only two people on the dance floor, the rest of the party is enthusiastically clapping to the beat of the music. They are performing an energetic rock and roll routine, which I have to admit is very good. Keya is obviously enjoying herself; probably because her long legs are on almost constant display.
As they finish to the last strains of the song Nella and I clap along with the others. Couples again surge on to the floor, this time to rumba. Looking around I see Tarri, Carris, Dec, and Roydon playing tag. Uncle Jep is sitting at the card table in one corner, and I see Jan among the throng on the dance floor with one of the Trayman boys.
“I could do with a drink, Deet.”
We make our way to the refreshment area, and as we pour our drinks I see Tom. He’s leaning against the wall, laughing at something Ralph has just said to him. I catch his eye and wave.
“Come on, Nella, Tom’s just over there.”
As we make our way towards them Jamie springs up in front of us. Surprisingly he seems to have managed to escape from Keya, and as he appears I feel Nella take a sharp grip on my arm and drag me in front of her and between them both.
“Hi girls, having fun?”
I stammer a few disjointed words all the while wondering, in a strange mix of horror and amusement, what on earth he thinks he’s doing.
“I hope I get a dance with you both later,” he continues.
I revise my earlier opinion of him and decide he must be at least three cans short of a six pack.
“You might if you have a gun on you,” growls Nella.
Jamie looks faintly puzzled.
“I don’t quite… we aren’t allowed to bring guns in here.”
I place myself more firmly between them.
“Jamie, is that Keya calling you?”
Jamie jumps visibly, and looks over his shoulder.
“Hey girls, I just remembered I have somewhere I’m supposed to be. See ya later.”
“Oh, he has somewhere to be alright: the doctors are now ready to begin his lobotomy,” remarks Nella caustically. “Well I wish them luck finding a brain in that thick skull of his.”
Nella, woodenly aware that the eyes of the whole room are viewing her with great curiosity, propels me to where Tom is still lounging against the wall. His attention is no longer fixed on Ralph, but he watches us with an alert gleam in his eyes. Ralph has also observed proceedings. As we near, he hovers irresolute and greets us warily. He stands his ground, refusing to be pressured into leaving, but his stance is a little defensive. Tom also salutes us, but his eyes are on Nell. She gazes towards the dance floor, seemingly nonchalant, but her fingers restlessly pull on a waist length curl. Eventually she tosses it over her shoulder, and rests her hand on the hip of her red dress.
“It’s nice to see you in a dress, Nella, you look beautiful,” Ralph comments awkwardly.
“What a pity I can’t say the same for you.” Nella’s tone is sharp and she doesn’t even look at him as she makes the biting reply. Which is probably just as well. I see a faint inflection of hurt pass across Ralph’s features at her ill tempered barb, and feel myself colour in his defence. I can’t think of anything to say to ease the tension between them.
“Just as well: what man ever relished the epithet ‘beautiful’?” Tom asks, laughing easily and giving Ralph a playful push.
I expel a breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and slip my arm through Ralph’s.
“You may not be beautiful, but you look rather dashing. I think I’ll let you dance with me. I was quite surprised you weren’t on the dance floor giving Jamie and Keya a run for their money.”
Ralph, recovering quickly, grins down at me.
“How could I, Deet? I was waiting for my best girl.”
“Oh and she stood you up? Poor Ralphie, you’ll have to make do with me.”
Ralph leads me on to the dance floor, chuckling.
“I pity the poor fool who tries to chat you up, Deet.”
“So do I, Ralphie.” I grimace. “Mum’ll have him married to me before he knows what hit him!”
Ralph is holding me in a light embrace, but at this his hands drop away from me. With a mock expression of harassment he starts to fumble in his pocket for something.
“If that’s the case you can hold on to the other end of that!” Ralph flutters a large white handkerchief in my direction.
“Thanks, Ralphie, how sweet of you to think of me.”
He grins, and takes me back into his arms.
Ralph dances very well, moving easily from a waltz into a quickstep as the music changes. He seems very comfortable pushing me around the floor, keeping up conversation with me that is littered with quick exchanges with others also on the dance floor.
Despite his cheerfulness I know that he is still thinking of Nella’s words.
“She didn’t mean it, Ralph, she was just flustered.”
Ralph shrugs his shoulders and expels a breath.
“Yes she did — no don’t… it’s alright, Deeta. She has no reason to like me — thanks to Jamie she has quite a good reason to dislike me.” His voice is resigned, not bitter. “And don’t go blaming Jamie, he’s a good guy.”
We dance in silence for a while. Over Ralph’s shoulder I see Tom talking to Nella. He seems to have soothed her ruffled feathers in a remarkably short space of time. The song finishes, and Ralph bows over my hand with a flourish.
“Nice one, Deet.” He grins, keeping hold of my hand and leads me from the floor, back to where Tom and Nella are leaning against the wall.
From the expression on Nell's face I think Tom has made her feel bad about her flash of temper. She looks as though she’s going to try and make up for it, but before she can speak Ralph gives my hand a squeeze and excuses himself. I see him a moment later dancing with Jinny. Nella looks faintly relieved, and mutters something about the refreshment table, before moving away.
I look up at Tom, who in turn is watching the dance floor.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes nev
er moving from the dancers.
“Nothing, I’m just glad you managed to make Ralphie feel better.”
“Nell’s got a sharp tongue on her hasn’t she? Then again, Ralph should have known not to say that.”
“He said the first thing that came into his head.”
“Foolish of him.” For the first time Tom turns to look at me. “You look pretty, Deeta. Nice chain.”
I twist my fingers through its length.
“What, this old thing?”
Tom catches my hand in his.
“Careful.” He warns as we move into the crush on the dance floor. “Or I might not bring you a present back this time!”
I enjoy dancing with Tom. He doesn’t make you feel like he’s invading your personal space, though I suppose that is precisely what he is doing. As his comment registers the music fades, and his words echo ominously in my ears. I feel a familiar sensation of sickening fear close over me, bringing me out into a cold sweat.
Tomorrow morning my father, Tom, Nella, and Pip will all be ‘out’. Who knew what dangers they would be facing? How many times could I expect them to come home when death is the way of the world outside our peaceful compound?
I guess Tom feels me stiffen, because he looks down at me sharply almost as though he knows the turn of my thoughts. Gently he pulls me closer to him and I know that in the crush of the dance floor, it is a move that will go unnoticed. I allow myself to accept the comfort of his embrace in the spirit it is offered; in brotherly affection.
It’s something of a shock when the music stops and Tom releases me. I’m comforted by the fact that there is regret in his manner, as though he is sorry to let me go.
------
The party goes on and I spend most of it dancing. I’m just beginning to develop a headache when Jamie, true to his threat, pops up beside me demanding a turn about the floor. He doesn’t really wait for me to answer him, but pulls me into the throng.
I am nervous as we begin dancing; this is the first time I’ve ever partnered Jamie. He proves surprisingly easy to follow, and I begin to relax.
“Tell me, Deeta, is your dislike of me because of your friend or is there something else?”
If it wasn’t for the fact that he has a pretty good grip on me, I would have stumbled. I stammer disjointedly for quite a while before he takes pity on me.
“It’s okay, Deeta, there’s no need to beat about the bush.”
“I don’t dislike you!” I reply quickly, blushing.
“I’m relieved, we don’t really operate in the same sphere do we?” He nods. “I guess you don’t know very much about me, but I know quite a lot about you though.”
For one hideous moment I think that my worst nightmare is coming true; that Jamie Clark is taking a romantic interest in me. Perhaps he sees the wild panic in my eyes, because he laughs. His laugh is so much like Ralphie’s that I relax again, smiling with him.
“That’s better; you’re lovely when you smile.”
I blush awkwardly and ask him if he likes Charles Dickens.
“Can’t say as I’ve ever met him,” he returns with a shrug. “Not keen on compliments are you, Deeta? Keya sees them as her due.”
“Seeing as she’s so beautiful, I suppose they are. Complements embarrass me.”
“You know, Deeta, I asked you to dance for a particular reason.”
“You mean other than my lovely smile?” My voice is a shade tarter than I had intended, and he laughs again.
“Direct hit, Deeta, well done. No more buttering up; you obviously don’t like the flavour. I’ll get straight to the point; I wonder if you could persuade Nella not to be quite so repulsed by me?”
I must have made to break away from him because his hands tighten, ruthlessly holding me in place.
“Gently, Deeta, gently. I’m not trying to fix my interest with her but Ralph’s.” His grip remains tight, holding me firmly in place.
“I think Deeta has had enough, Jamie.” Tom’s voice is very quiet and his hand moves to catch Jamie’s wrist in a painful grip.
“I think that you’re right, she does look unwell. Perhaps you’d better sit down, Deeta,” continues Tom, as if answering some comment on Jamie’s part. He takes my arm and leads me from the floor with a curt command made to Jamie in an undertone to come too. I’m rather surprised when that is precisely what Jamie does.
Tom settles me in a chair, courteously asking me how I am again, and presses the drink that Ralph has ready into my hand. I reflect that Tom must have had the forethought to send him for it before coming to rescue me. As I sip at the cooling liquid, aware that sympathetic eyes are on me, I cringe. I only hope I look sufficiently ill to make Tom’s cover-up look real. Over my head the boys are diagnosing me. I think they’ve decided that I’m over heated. Before long Tom is again crouching down beside me.
“I think you’d better go now, Deeta. If you could take the children and tell Uncle Jep the time, I’d be grateful.”
His voice is quiet, but holds an undertone of command that experience has taught me not to ignore. I stand and bid Ralph and Jamie goodnight, before going in search of the children and Uncle Jep. If I tell the truth I’m rather relieved that I have an excuse to leave. My headache has worsened and, from the look of Tom, things are going to be uncomfortable for Jamie. Tom won’t be unpleasant or give Jamie a slap down or anything. Tom has far more subtle ways of making a person wish the floor would open up and swallow them.
The children take the news that it is bedtime tolerably well. All seem happy, if a little tired, and I’m treated to a re-enactment of how Dec won at musical chairs. When we reach the Jepsjons’ apartment Tarri settles herself into the professor’s arms, while I see the other children washed and changed.
Carris settles down to sleep readily, but the boys’ room is in a state of uproar. Ricky watches indulgently over his book as Roydon and Dec jump up and down on their bed’s, pillow fighting with much fervour. It takes me a full fifteen minutes to coax them into bed.
When I return to the sitting room I find Uncle Jep singing to Tarri in Polish. The soft and sweet melody is one I can remember him singing to me at her age. I don’t interrupt the idyllic picture they make, but go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
As I wait for the kettle to boil, I think of all that happened at the party. As unpleasant as my dance with Jamie had been, now I think about it I’m intrigued by what he said. Maybe I’m wrong in thinking he’s a little thick. He seems to be aware of Ralph’s feelings for Nella, even though I know that Ralph wouldn’t tell anyone about it. That means that Jamie must have guessed.
I can even explain away his actions with me on the dance floor. If I had managed to break away from him I would probably have left him there, creating a scene much like the one he was trying to patch up with Nella.
Tarri is leaning drowsily against Uncle Jep, a hand snuggled under her chin, when I take the tea in.
“She is much like you were, Deetina,” says Uncle Jep as I put his tea on the table beside him. “You also wished always to be embraced.”
“I haven’t grown out of it.”
Tarri is warm and relaxed as I lift her into my arms. She’ll be asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow, I think to myself. It turns out I am wrong. When I crouch down to tuck her covers around her, one arm creeps around my neck. Pulling my head close to hers, Tarri threads the fingers of her other hand into my curls.
“Aunty Deet, why is Uncle Tom going away tomorrow?”
“He’s going to bring us some things we need from the City,” I reply. “Don’t worry; he’ll be back again soon.”
“Will he, Aunty Deet? Sometimes people go out and they don’t come back.” Her voice is tremulous, and I give her soft cheek a kiss.
“It would take a great deal to keep Uncle Tom away from you and the rest of us.”
Tarri thinks about this for awhile.
“Aunty Deet, can’t we do without the things they’re going to get?
”
I cast about my mind for a suitable answer but, as I have often thought the very same thing, nothing presents itself.
“If we could, it wouldn’t be much fun.”