Hopes and Dreams for The Variety Girls by Tracy Baines

Author:Tracy Baines [Baines, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2022-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

The last part of the journey home had been hairy. With only a slice of moon that night, Bernie had crawled along the last few miles. It would have been quicker to walk. They had swerved to avoid a man wearing dark clothes and for a moment Johnny had thought they were all done for. It had shaken them and Johnny had stopped for a quick drink with Bernie, then chosen to walk the last couple of miles back home. How bleak it all seemed, to come from the bright lights of New York and be plunged back into darkness. Yet, weirdly, he felt happy, more so than he’d felt in years, and it seemed to override the weariness. He had found her.

He adjusted his overnight bag to his other hand. The lift opened and he stepped out, rummaged in his pocket for his key and let himself into the flat. The lamp was on in the small hallway and he placed his bag on the floor, slipped off his coat and hung it in the small closet, left his hat on the chair. In the sitting room, Aunt Hetty was sitting in her dressing gown and slippers, reading a book by the light of the standard lamp behind her. She smiled, removing her glasses. The room felt calmer, and he wished that Aunt Hetty could stay. She placed her book down quietly on the side table, her spectacles on top of it, and got to her feet.

‘Bad journey?’

He nodded, removed his jacket and draped it over the back of the sofa. She kissed his cheek.

‘Whisky?’

He sank into the easy chair.

‘That would be wonderful.’ They kept their voices low, Aunt Hetty taking great care not to chink the glass of the decanter as she returned it to the silver tray on the long table behind the sofa.

‘How did it go?’

‘Good. Better than I’d thought.’

‘Not a wasted journey?’

‘Not at all.’

She handed him the glass and he sipped. It warmed his throat and for a moment he closed his eyes, glad his journey was over. He opened them again. ‘How has she been?’

Aunt Hetty bent down and turned up the gas fire; the ceramic radiant began to glow and she watched for a moment before returning to her seat. ‘A little brighter. Still very brittle. But I don’t have to tell you that.’

He leaned forward, nursing the glass in his hands.

‘Oh, God, Aunt Hetty, I hope I’ve done the right thing.’

‘Of course you have. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve done for the best. Ruby’s not a child.’

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