The Keepsake. Sheelagh Kelly

the wedding? I’ll take you there when I get off work and make sure you’re safe, but I can’t sleep there, obviously, before we’re man and wife.’ Even if Etta had been willing he couldn’t let his parents down by living in sin.

      She nodded, enthusing, ‘Oh, I can’t wait to go there!’

      He crushed her again. ‘Me an’ all. How did ye go on with your letter of consent?’

      ‘Oh, that took me all of five minutes!’ She prised herself free and skipped away to fetch an envelope, which he put in his pocket.

      ‘That’s great.’ His arms soon encircled her again. ‘Only a few more hours to go.’

      Etta pulled a face. ‘More hours of biting my fingernails to the quick, imagining my father’s going to turn up at any moment. I’ll have them down to my elbows before tonight.’

      ‘Ah well, you can chew on mine if ye like – well you did remark on how clean they were, I thought ye might find them tasty!’ He laughed as she grappled with him, joyful that she shared his sense of humour.

      ‘I might have to hold you to that! I’m absolutely ravenous.’

      Marty admitted, ‘So am I, I didn’t have time for any dinner. Maybe I can get us something from the kitchen.’ Then, he squashed his lips to hers.

      It was whilst they were torridly engrossed that someone rattled a key in the lock, forcing self-preservation to override passion. Tearing themselves apart, they turned to stare at the door in horror, having no time to run for the person was entering.

      ‘Oh, I beg your –’ Joanna had been about to apologise, but at the sight of Marty in the arms of another she broke off, her jaw dropping and her eyes wide in shock. Then, in the same instant she had spun on her heel.

      ‘Jo, wait!’ A panicked Marty raced to waylay the chambermaid, catching her and dragging her back into the room where he forbade any exit by leaning against the door. ‘Please don’t give us away!’

      Joanna demanded to be past. ‘I want nothing to do with this!’

      ‘All right, but let me explain!’ With Etta an anxious spectator, he grasped the maid’s arms.

      ‘I don’t wish to know!’ Joanna wrenched free. ‘I just came to check that the room was fit for the next guest – and I see that it isn’t!’ She indicated the rumpled bed with the discarded corset upon it, then glared pointedly at Etta and Marty.

      ‘Guest? Oh, bloody hell!’ He clutched his head, before gauging her real cause for complaint. ‘Eh, it’s not what you think, Jo! Etta spent the night on her own –’

      ‘She’s been here all night?’ screeched Joanna.

      ‘She had nowhere else to go! She’s run away.’ Throwing a fond glance at Etta he decided to let his friend in on their secret. ‘We’re going to be married.’

      Joanna’s homely face looked as if it had been smacked. She became very quiet, staring at him as his excited voice babbled on:

      ‘I’ve got us a place to live! We’ll be going there in a few hours – at least we were, but if someone wants this room…’ His words trailed away in despair.

      ‘They’re not coming until tomorrow,’ Joanna heard her own voice say dully. Why had she revealed this? She could have been shot of her rival in an instant by stating the room was needed now. But that would solve nothing, would only propel Etta further into Bootsie’s arms.

      ‘Oh, thank God – saved!’ He threw his face heavenwards with a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks, Jo. You won’t tell anyone she’s here, will you?’

      Remaining stunned and dull of eye, she shook her mobcapped head slowly. ‘I’ve still got to prepare this room, though.’

      ‘I’m sure Etta won’t mind.’

      Hurt and furious, Joanna flared then. ‘I should think she won’t!’ Still in awe of her upper class rival, she directed her hissed objection at Marty, ‘And I’m not having her sitting on the bed after I’ve changed it!’

      Amused, but feeling pity for the maid who so obviously coveted Martin too, Etta responded quietly, ‘I shall endeavour to keep out of your way.’

      ‘And I’d better go before I’m missed,’ opined Marty. He dealt Etta a swift but adoring kiss, then indicated the garments that were strewn about the room. ‘It might be an idea for you to be packed and ready to leave.’

      She sighed. ‘I was hoping to have them laundered…’

      ‘Perhaps Joanna would oblige,’ he said thoughtlessly.

      There was a tight reply from the chambermaid. ‘Perhaps Joanna’s got enough to do. Perhaps on second thoughts she’ll come back when the sodding room’s empty!’

      Watching her stalk out, Marty grimaced at Etta. ‘Maungy devil, she’s usually a pal.’

      Etta beheld him lovingly and stole one of his words to rebuke him. ‘She cares for you, you eejit.’

      He laughed, then frowned. ‘What? No, surely…’

      His lover experienced a sudden flash of jealousy. ‘Was she the one who –’

      ‘No! I’ve never even regarded her as anything other than a workmate. Oh, bloody hell, Etta, how was I to know? She never said anything when I poured my heart out about you. What should I say to her?’

      Without revealing her deeply possessive streak, Etta prescribed delicacy. ‘I think you’ve said enough. You could provoke her and she might tell.’

      He shook his head. ‘No, she’s not that kind. I’d better go try and make it up to her somehow.’ He gave Etta a swift but devoted kiss. ‘I’ll see you later with some grub, and try not to fret.’ Juggling a collection of footwear, he hurried away.

      He did catch up with Joanna, but whatever excuse he offered only seemed to worsen the atmosphere between them and, finally heeding Etta’s advice, he left her to cool off. Besides, there was work to be done, this keeping him so involved that he never got to discover whether or not she had returned to tidy Etta’s room.

      Joanna had no intention of going back to that place of sin. In fact, by reliving every sequence of events she had worked herself into a fine lather and was by now so absolutely livid that she even contemplated telling the housekeeper about Bootsie’s subterfuge. But that would only get him the sack and it was not him she wished to be rid of. Instead, her anger making her physically ill, she approached the housekeeper with a request that she might be allowed to leave early. Presented with the chambermaid’s pallor and bloodshot eyes, Mrs Hardy was sympathetic and agreed. Joanna was on her way out of the hotel when she overheard a loud enquiry that halted her instantly.

      ‘Ibbetson,’ repeated the elder of the two gentlemen testily. ‘Check again.’

      Transformed by excitement, she made a detour and crept back to lurk on the perimeter of the resplendently-tiled main entrance. The porter on the reception desk was polite and did as he was bidden, but his answer was the same as before. ‘I’m sorry, sir, there is no one of that name staying in the hotel.’

      ‘Then I shall search the place myself!’ boomed Mr Ibbetson senior. ‘For I have it on good authority that a member of your staff has abducted my daughter!’

      With other employees looking fearful that there was about to be a scene, a delighted Joanna rushed forth to solve the mystery, moreover to rectify her own problem. ‘Excuse me, sir!’ she whispered confidentially, ‘but I think you’ll find the young lady in room eighty-four.’

      No one had time to ask how she knew this, for with Ibbetson rushing off with his son in pursuit, Joanna’s superiors had enough to contend with in trying to keep this scandal from other guests. Withdrawing into the background, Joanna’s heart pumped with excitement as she awaited the ejection of her rival. With Bootsie safely tucked away in his