Applause (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 2) Madalyn Morgan (chromebook ebook reader txt) 📖

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Jenny said, wringing her hands nervously.

‘Oh, didn’t I say? I went to Tudor Avenue today.’ Jenny shot her a frightened look. ‘There haven’t been any bombs dropped on Tudor or Wolsey for almost a week. So where were you living before you gave Bill the sob-story about losing your home?’

‘With my sister,’ she whispered.

Margot hobbled into the kitchen. Jenny followed. ‘Are you going to tell Bill?’

‘No.’ Jenny sighed with relief. ‘You are, if you don’t go and see your sister tomorrow and ask her to take you back.’ Margot turned and faced her. ‘Any reason why she wouldn’t?’ Jenny shook her head. ‘Good. Then you can come back here before you go down to the ambulance station and give Bill and me the good news.’

‘If I do, will you promise not to tell Bill?’

‘I won’t tell him if you stay away from him. Bill’s my husband, Jenny. I know he’s your friend, and your partner on the ambulances, but he’s married to me.’ Jenny began to cry. Margot thought about putting her arms around her, but there was something about her tears that didn’t ring true. ‘Even when we were usherettes you flirted with him when you thought I wasn’t around. You pretended it was so he’d put a good word in for you at the ambulance station, but I knew it was more than that.’ Margot paused. ‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’

‘In love? Of course I’m not,’ Jenny protested. ‘Bill and I are friends. He’s my best friend.’

‘Stop lying! I’ve seen the way you look at him!’

Jenny broke down. ‘Please don’t tell him. I’m begging you, Margot. If you tell him he won’t work with me, and I won’t get the first aid experience I need for the nursing yeomanry exam. I’ll never be overfriendly again, I promise. Please Margot, I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry I’ve caught you out in a pack of lies,’ Margot said, throwing down the tea towel and walking away. ‘And stop crying! It’s too late for tears.’ Margot’s patience was wearing thin. ‘All right! I won’t tell him. But you must promise me that this-- this obsession you have with Bill stops now!’

Jenny nodded. ‘Thank you, Margot. Can you ever forgive me? Please say you can.’

The bombed out houses in the East End, the gaping hole where Bert’s office used to be, the curb stone on Maiden Lane, the boy who helped her and the choir at St. Saviour’s singing the Gloria flashed through her mind. ‘I forgive you,’ she said, ‘but if you ever--’

‘I won’t. I know now that Bill’s kindness and friendship was just that. Can we still be friends?’ Jenny asked.

‘I can hear Bill. Go and wash your face. Splash cold water on your eyes so he doesn’t know you’ve been crying. Supper’s in ten minutes.’

Christmas 1941 was the first Margot and Bill spent in their new apartment. Bill brought home a Christmas tree and Margot made lots of decorations out of shiny paper and offcuts of fabric. And thanks to Natalie and Anton Goldman, they had a chicken for their Christmas dinner.

Margot put on the wireless, tuned it to hear the King’s Speech and sat down next to Bill. She put her feet on his and picked up her glass. ‘Mmmm, this sherry has gone to my head,’ she cooed. Bill leaned forward, kissed her and laughed. ‘What a perfect day,’ she said, snuggling up to him. She hadn’t told Bill about Jenny’s lies at the time and now, after two months, it was too late. Jenny was right, they did have to work together – and their jobs were extremely important. Anyway, Margot trusted Bill completely. She knew he hadn’t done anything to encourage Jenny. She looked up at her husband’s kind face. He did like Jenny, but not in that way. He respected her for the work she did, which was very different.

Bill topped up her glass and Margot relaxed with her head on the back of the settee. If Jenny hadn’t gone back to live with her sister when she did, she thought, I’d have told Bill about her lies and dragged her out of my home by her hair. Margot drained her glass.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Margot had kept the promises she made to Bill when she thought ENSA didn’t want her – to be a proper wife, keep the house spotless and cook dinner every night – and she’d enjoyed doing it. But now her ankle had healed and the nightmares were a thing of the past, she had become restless. Being a housewife wasn’t enough. She was bored.

Margot flopped onto the settee and picked up a magazine. She flicked through it, found nothing interesting, and dropped it onto the occasional table. She pulled her legs up to her chin and hugged her knees. What next? She looked at the clock on the mantle. Almost time to start supper. When Bill left for the MoD in the mornings Margot counted the hours until he came back. She loved that the two of them were able to sit down and have supper together. But then he went out to Tommy’s and she was on her own again until ten or eleven o’clock at night – worrying that he would be caught in a raid, injured or killed.

She pushed herself off the settee, went over to the sideboard and picked up the letter from George and Betsy. Reading it again, she took a pen and a writing pad from the drawer and wrote a reply.

Bill had reservations about Margot going out on tour again – he didn’t think she was fit enough – but Margot bamboozled him as always. ‘The timing is perfect,’ she said, as they sat down to supper.