GIs and Ginger Beer, page 5
As she entered The Workshop the pong of emulsion paint hit her. She wandered through to the main exhibition area where Ken was supervising a team of volunteers painting the walls and floor white in preparation for Jake’s exhibition.
‘Hello, my friend,’ Ken said as he came over to her. ‘Looking good, ain’t it?’
Ashley agreed. As a blank backdrop to Jake’s stunning paintings, it would be perfect, so she said so. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’ she added.
‘Steam ahead.’
‘Would it be possible for me to hold Ruby’s living memories sessions here? The café is getting busy now the tourist season is underway and it’s quite noisy. We’re getting some good stuff from Ruby and I want every word to be heard.’
‘Can’t see that being a problem. You could use the staff room or one of the tutorial spaces. Staff room is cosy, though, and has closer proximity to the kettle.’
Ashley went with her impulse and threw her arms around him. ‘Thanks, Ken, that would be great.’
‘Get off me, you daft mare,’ he said good-naturedly. ‘Will the man mountain that is Eddie be joining you?’
Ashley pulled a face. ‘For some reason Ruby wants him there. Knowing my luck, Biddy will probably want to join in as well. It could get a bit crowded.’
Ken laughed. ‘Now there’s a life you want recorded. I reckon you could mount an exhibition of that life on its own. Might need to be X-rated, though.’
‘Is it true she ran a brothel in London?’
Ken winced. ‘Don’t ever let her hear you call it that,’ he said. ‘My understanding is, it was a very high-class affair. Think she’s known to a whole generation of MPs and senior CEOs. She’s a wonderful woman, is Biddy. If you want to pull any strings, she’s the one. Think she can blackmail half the male population over a certain age in London. Not to mention Devon. Quite a girl.’
‘Maybe we could call in some favours on behalf of Jake, then?’
‘What makes you think I haven’t already?’ Ken chuckled. ‘Speaking of which, here’s the man of the moment now.’
As Jake came into the room, he seemed to fill it, so charismatic was his presence. There was something special about him. He had a celebrity-like aura that was intoxicating. Ashley remembered reading a biography of Picasso and how people commented on his animal magnetism, his sheer power and genius. She had a taste of that, now, looking at Jake.
He stood for a second, admiring the work that was going on. ‘Looking good in here,’ he said. ‘Hi, Ashley.’ He turned to her, staring intently. ‘You know, I was serious about you sitting for me. I’d really love to add your portrait to the exhibition.’
Ashley felt herself blush. ‘I really don’t think I’ve got the time.’
‘Aw, go on with you. I’ve got nothing for you to do this afternoon that won’t wait,’ Ken put in. ‘Studio One’s free. Help yourself, my lovelies.’
Ashley hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be painted, especially by an artist like Jake. She suspected he missed nothing.
‘Please, Ashley,’ he begged.
‘Go on, my friend,’ Ken stirred, enjoying her discomfort. ‘You’ll end up with a portrait to hang on your wall. Think what a talking point that will be and, if nothing else, it will give a starving painter some life-drawing practice. You wouldn’t deny an artist that, surely?’
Ashley gave him daggers, then relented. At least all she had to do was sit and stare into space; it might give her some thinking room. And besides, she had to admit her ego was flattered by the thought that someone wanted to paint her. She was curious to see what bits of her personality would end up on the canvas. She followed Jake into the main studio.
They set themselves up directly underneath the roof windows. Jake sat her so that she was half-facing away from him. She made sure her hair fell over her face, thankfully hiding the side with the scar. Away from all the activity in the exhibition space, the air hung heavy and intimate.
‘I’d like to start with some sketches, if that’s okay?’ he asked. ‘What am I saying? You’re an artist, so you know the score.’
‘I’m hardly an artist,’ she answered. ‘I taught art, but that’s a very different thing.’ As she spoke, she was aware of Jake’s pencil making rapid marks on the paper he’d pinned on an easel.
‘Not what Ken says,’ Jake grunted, hampered by the 4B he held between his teeth. ‘He said the stuff he’d seen of yours is really great.’
‘That’s kind of him. I may have a certain talent for water-colours, but I’m nowhere near your league.’
Jake concentrated on the marks he was making, frowning as he did so, and then he stopped. ‘Don’t think it’s something Ken is just being kind about. When it comes to art, he tells the absolute truth. It’s one thing I really admire about him.’
‘I’m happy to take the compliment, then.’ And forgive him for pushing me into this, she added silently. Deflecting the conversation away from herself, she said, ‘Are you excited about the exhibition?’
‘You bet. Looking forward to having the paintings back from the framers. They’ve gone to the place Ken’s son works at. Makes them look completely different once they’re in a frame, but it’s not something I can afford to do very often. Mostly I just leave them on the raw canvas.’
‘Depends on the painting, I suppose. I quite like how some of the ones on the unframed canvas look. Seems to suit your style somehow.’ Ashley shifted to get more comfortable. The sunlight, streaming in through the ceiling windows, was very warm. It was relaxing her. ‘What are you hoping comes from it? The exhibition, I mean.’
Jake blew out a breath. ‘It would be good to get stuff in a London gallery, I suppose. Get some exposure. At the moment, all I do is paint hard and not get anywhere. I’d like to be offered a commission for a high-profile portrait, maybe something corporate.’
He was ambitious, Ashley observed. ‘As long as they’re not bored rich women who want to make a move on you?’
He grinned, taking the pencil from his mouth. ‘Yeah, as long as I can avoid that.’
‘Well, I promise I won’t make a move on you.’ She turned her head slightly so that she could better check his expression.
‘Well, you see, if you were to make a move, I might not object too much.’ He put all his pencils down, propelled the chair on its wheels out from behind the easel and stared at her, unabashed.
Ashley suppressed a giggle. Hiding behind her hair, she reflected that Jake must be at least five years younger than her, but he had the confidence of someone much more experienced. For a second, she felt a glimmer of sympathy for the bored London ladies. She wondered who had actually seduced whom.
Chapter Eleven
At zero four hundred hours on the morning of June the sixth Ashley and Noah made their way, in the grey half-light, up the path from the car park to the clifftop where the D-Day commemoration service was due to be held. They didn’t speak. Maybe it was the brutally early hour or perhaps it was the poignancy of the occasion. One or two others stumbled along the path behind them, and Noah went to the aid of a middle-aged woman pushing Victor in his wheelchair. Ashley accompanied them, walking stick in hand, concentrating on not tripping; she was only half awake. Their breath misted in the still cool pre-dawn and there was expectation in the air, along with the promised warmth of the day.
Once at the top, Ashley went to stand behind Biddy and Arthur. Biddy turned and nodded a welcome. Three other veterans had made the climb and found their place with Erica, the vicar who was leading the service, who was standing by the unlit beacon. In the east, a glimmer of pink crowned the horizon and cast a glow on the faces of those present. It was very still, very sombre. All that could be heard was the shush of the sea far below and the keening of a solitary gull. Ashley found herself holding her breath, the beginning of tears clenching in her throat. A few more people joined the group, and she was aware of a tall, solid presence beside her.
‘This is going to be quite something,’ Eddie whispered in her ear. He reached for her hand and she let him take it.
‘Hey, you’re shivering!’ he exclaimed. ‘Come here.’ He opened his coat and gently pulled her inside, standing behind and banding his strong arms around her.
‘Better?’ he asked as he rested his chin on the top of her head.
Ashley tensed. Her brain snapped into flight mode, but her body wanted to stay. Accepting there was nowhere else she’d rather be, she nodded, not trusting her voice. She allowed herself to relax and concentrated on the feel of his heart beating and his breath stirring her hair. The warmth coming off his body was bliss.
The service was sweet and short. Erica said a prayer and gave her thanks to the men who made the ultimate sacrifice. The mayor gave a short speech and then one of the veterans read out, in a voice trembling with age and emotion, the names of those who had died. It was a long list, his voice a mere whisper, and some of the names could barely be heard against a sea breeze that had whipped up. The sun sent great rivulets of pink and orange across the wide sky and, as Erica read out Laurence Binyon’s immortal lines, the mayor lit the beacon. The flames shot into the air, joining the blazing sunrise.
The quiet was punctuated only by the fire crackling, people sniffling and the odd murmur of muted conversation. In front of Ashley and Eddie, Arthur blew his nose and Biddy put a hand to his arm as if to reassure him. The touching gesture was almost too much.
The event had been unbearably moving and Ashley was thankful she’d witnessed it, and glad she’d made the effort of the climb up. Eddie, with a whisper of a sigh, released her from his coat and she was hit by a blast of chill wind coming off the sea. Swaying a little, she steadied herself with her stick. It was as if part of herself was gone. She watched as, with his head bowed with emotion, he walked away. She longed to follow. Noah came to stand beside her and took her hand. He remained unusually silent, overcome with emotion from the service.
Biddy turned to them, her over-loud voice splintering the mood. ‘Are you two walking back down to the car park?’ she asked. ‘Petra’s putting on a breakfast at the caff. You’ll need something hot inside you after standing out here.’
Ashley nodded and she and Noah began to walk with them but, halfway there, she changed her mind. ‘I will come for breakfast, but I think I’ll just stay here a while longer. Absorb the atmosphere. Maybe take some photographs.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Biddy boomed. ‘Come on then, Arthur, stir your stumps. We need to get back to collect Ruby.’
‘Sure you’ll be okay?’ Noah asked. ‘I’m not keen on leaving you up here. The going’s quite rough, Ash.’
‘I’ll be fine. A bit stiff from standing, but I’ll ease up when I get moving. And at least it’s light enough to see properly now. You go back with Biddy and Arthur. I’m sure there’ll be someone around to give me a lift. Or I can get a bus.’ She watched as he followed the rest of the group down the slope and through the gate to the car park, and then she was left alone. Or so she thought. A tall bulky figure detached itself from the shadowy trees.
‘Mind if I keep you company?’ Eddie asked. ‘I’ll go if you’d rather be alone.’ He gestured to somewhere vague behind him. ‘I had to get away for a moment. It was too much.’
Of course. His grandfather had fought at Omaha, probably alongside some of the men who had died and whom they had honoured today. She was touched by his sensitivity. She smiled at him. What could it hurt? They turned uphill and walked the short distance back to the burning beacon. The warmth it gave off was fierce and welcome and, with the chilly air now being chased off by the heat of the June morning, it felt sunny and peaceful.
Ashley scanned the coast, from Portland slumbering in the east, across the flat sea to the hints of Berry Head in the west. The breeze returned and a gull lifted and flew, dipping over the water, calling its mournful cry. They didn’t speak, there seemed no need for words, but Eddie put an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close, and she didn’t resist. A new understanding flowed between them, confused and uncertain, tentative and wordless but profound. All was silence bar the crash of the waves and the hiss and crackle of the burning beacon. Ashley was sure the clamour of her heart drowned everything out.
The gull shot across in front of them, cackling. It broke them apart. She moved a little nearer to the beacon and away from Eddie. She held out her hands to warm them, but it was simply an excuse to give her time to think; to put her churning emotions into some kind of coherent order. It was torture being close to him when she couldn’t have him. Not as she wanted. She’d offered him friendship but she could see no way through this craving for him, this primal need in her gut, in order to discover that friendship. Tears threatened again but this time they were for her and for what she refused to let herself have.
The moment hung hard and heavy but neither spoke. Ashley tried to form the words and sensed Eddie was waiting patiently, but none came.
‘Coffee?’ he asked eventually, admitting defeat as the moment for talking had soared away with the breeze and drifted over the sea. ‘I’ve got my car with me. I can give you a lift.’
‘Perfect.’
The conversation was mundane, between two mere acquaintances; it was profoundly depressing. All intimacy between them had fled. They were back to square one.
Chapter Twelve
Petra had opened up especially for them and had set up a big table on one side of the café. Erica and the mayor, Biddy and Arthur, now joined by Ruby, were already tucking into bacon and eggs. Apart from a few others who had been at the service, the café was empty.
‘Sit yourselves down, you two; two full English?’ Petra asked, pad in hand.
They nodded and sat next to Ruby on the end. The warmth of the café, with its everyday fug of sizzling bacon, was a welcome contrast to the clifftop service.
‘Noah not here?’ Ashley said, summoning a smile for the old woman, who was dressed in a pure white twinset today.
‘He’s gone to give some interview or other to a woman from the local rag. She couldn’t get to the service herself, so he’s gone to fill her in, he said.’
‘Good luck to him.’ Ashley pulled a face. ‘I think Keeley’s got the hots for him. You didn’t feel up to it either, Ruby?’
‘No, dearie. When you get to my age you’ve had your fill of remembrance services. I’ll maybe go to church later, with Biddy and Arthur. More my style.’
‘And much easier to get to,’ Ashley added as she took the mug of coffee from Petra and clutched it to her, welcoming its warmth. ‘It was quite a tricky walk up in the dark.’
‘How was it then?’
‘Very moving. I expected it to be poignant, but not as much as it actually was. Hard to hold the tears back.’
Ruby nodded sadly, ‘Too many men gone.’
‘All their names were read out.’
‘Including Chet’s, I expect.’
‘Do you know, I didn’t hear his. Poor Victor was getting worn out by then and it was difficult to hear what he was saying. The wind had got up too and his voice was carried out to sea. Where are the veterans, anyway?’
‘Back in their hotel, I expect. With a drop of the good stuff in their coffee.’
Ashley smiled. ‘I wouldn’t blame them. It was surprisingly cold up there until the sun came up properly, but I’m glad I went.’ Petra put down two plates groaning with eggs and bacon, and Ashley concentrated on eating, suddenly ravenous. When she’d got to the second coffee stage, she sat back, replete. ‘So good.’
‘I like your breakfasts over here,’ Eddie said, speaking for the first time since they’d entered the café; he’d been withdrawn and silent up to now. ‘But you can’t beat a bit of bacon and maple syrup.’ He scraped some marmalade onto the last piece of toast and ate it.
‘Maple syrup,’ Ruby said wistfully. ‘Chet told me he had it on his pancakes. There’s a place in Blackheath, near home, near where I live in London. Proper American diner. Must get Serena to take me, if the woman ever gets a second free. They do pancakes and maple syrup.’
‘Sounds good, ma’am.’
Eddie’s voice was so melancholy, Ashley wondered if he was thinking of his home. He must miss it. Or maybe he was thinking about Bree and the baby? She had no idea if the woman was still in England.
‘So is Chet the one who used to call Florrie “Ma’am”?’ he asked.
‘He was. Used to make us all chuckle.’ Ruby’s eyes narrowed as she remembered. ‘So polite, those boys. After he’d taken me to the dance, he used to pop in regular. First time he came in, I was singing my head off and didn’t see him. I was that embarrassed! Then he started coming for a cuppa up in the parlour with me and Florrie. Said he loved English tea. Can you imagine? Used to bring us stuff like tinned ham, chocolate and nylons. Ooh, those nylons were smashing. You had to be careful, though. Lots of girls were turning tricks for less. You had to be careful about your reputation. You didn’t want to be getting a name.’ She turned to Ashley. ‘You got your recorder thingy with you?’
Ashley nodded, surprised Ruby was in the mood for more memories. She reached around to fish it out of her rucksack. As she slid it onto the table and switched it to record, Eddie asked Ruby a question.
‘Do you remember when they left for Omaha? Left Berecombe, I mean.’
It seemed as if his thoughts still lay with the men whose lives they had just commemorated.
‘I do. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking of it. Seventy-five years ago, but I remember it like yesterday. Iris ran down the hill from the post office, all breathless. Hammered on the side door. Said she’d heard from Vera, who ran the bed and breakfast where some of the officers were staying, that the balloon was up. They was shipping out.’
