Bad Girls Good Women. Rosie Thomas

      ‘Mmm?’ she was painting her lips with pink lipstick, but their eyes met in the mirror.

      ‘Mattie … do you want him? I saw him looking at you first.’ Julia was cold with fear of her answer, but she had to ask.

      Mattie smiled. ‘You go ahead. I like his friend.’ His friend was older and somehow safer, Mattie added silently. Joshua Flood was someone special, but Mattie wouldn’t stand in Julia’s way tonight.

      Julia, are you all right?’ she asked abruptly.

      Julia stood still for a moment.

      ‘I meant about your mum. About what’s happened.’

      A dirty little baby who wasn’t wanted, Julia heard again. But I am wanted. Josh wants me, I can see it in his face. She laughed, a little shakily. ‘Yes, I’m all right.’ Mattie hugged her, and then smoothed her dress.

      ‘Come on, then. Let’s get back to your aviator.’

      When they reached the table the second bottle of champagne was empty, and Felix was standing up ready to leave.

      ‘I’m sure I’m leaving you in good hands,’ he said lightly.

      The girls kissed him, one on each cheek. ‘Thank you for a wonderful dinner,’ they told him. ‘You and Jessie.’

      Felix’s black eyes flickered, not quite to Julia’s face. Then he lifted his hand, almost into a salute, and turned away.

      After that there was a taxi, and a nightclub, a proper one with tables in alcoves and girls in evening dresses to serve drinks. Mattie and Julia tried to look as if they came to such places every night, and Harry and Josh played along with the fantasy.

      A crooner came out on to the little stage close to their table and addressed his songs to Mattie. She snorted with laughter, and told Harry, ‘I can do better than that. Julia, shall I get up there and give them “Ma, He’s Making Eyes at Me?” ’

      ‘Oh no, please,’ Julia murmured faintly.

      ‘You stay right here with me,’ Harry ordered. His arm was around Mattie’s shoulders and his hand rested on her breast. Mattie, fuelled by champagne, was at her best, teasing and flirtatious and quick-tongued. She knew that she was safe, here in this nightclub surrounded by people. She had also guessed, accurately enough, that Harry Gilbert would have a steady girl, perhaps even a wife, who rode horses somewhere in the country. And so he wasn’t likely to be a long-term threat either. She could sit back and enjoy sparring good-naturedly with him.

      Josh was different. Even when he was sitting at their table telling Julia about flying he was moving, restless, confined by the nightclub’s smoky ceilings. His hands moved, making shapes in the air, and he leaned closer so that she saw his white, even teeth and the play of the muscles around his mouth. He had long eyelashes, bleached gold at the tips like his hair. She wanted to touch the backs of his hands, where the taut sinews showed.

      ‘Why are you so brown?’ she asked him.

      ‘I’m a traveller. I work where I can, flying, and if it’s in the sun, so much the better. Then, when I’ve put enough money together, I ski until it runs out.’

      Julia thought of languorous silver beaches, and then snow under a brittle blue sky. A long way from the attic flat, and from the rows of desks in the accounts office. Her freedom seemed suddenly tame. Josh’s glittering energy fired her own, making it blaze up inside her. It was impossible to sit still any longer.

      The singer finished his spot.

      ‘I want to dance. Can we?’ she asked Josh.

      He smiled at her. ‘Sure we can.’

      On the little dance floor he held out his arms to her. She stepped forward, a small, deliberate step. His hand on her waist felt light and warm.

      Dancing at the Rocket was nothing like this. Usually Julia knew what tune the band was playing, what the other girls were wearing, who was dancing nearby and what steps they were doing.

      Tonight she didn’t notice anything, except Josh. She forgot how to dance, and learned all over again through Josh. She felt lighter than she had ever done, part of the music itself.

      From across the room Mattie saw them smiling at each other, hypnotised. She was dancing with Harry, whose still, English bearing was such a contrast to Josh’s. Harry danced like a poker. Harry Gilbert wouldn’t look at her like Josh was looking at Julia. She was glad of that, because she knew what the look meant. But she was touched by a tiny, unfamiliar shiver of jealousy. Mattie wanted to be overtaken too.

      Julia and Josh danced for a long time. They hardly spoke but they were still listening to each other, to the sound of one another’s breathing, the unspoken words.

      At last, reluctantly, Harry let his arm fall from around Mattie’s waist. He was still standing close enough to see down her blouse, into the blue shadow between the creamy, gold-freckled breasts. But Harry had to work the next day. There was an old Lancaster, converted for freight-carrying, waiting to be flown. Not like Josh Flood, who seemed to have the knack of working only when he felt like it. Harry touched Mattie’s cheek, pushing back the blonde waves. The pair of them were not much more than children anyway, he thought. It was tempting, but impossible.

      ‘I must get to bed,’ he told her sadly.

      ‘And me too.’ Mattie’s eyes held his. ‘My own bed.’

      She had been perfectly honest with him. And Harry was always dogged by his own gentlemanly code. ‘Of course,’ he murmured.

      Julia and Josh followed them. They held themselves apart by a little, artificial space. Outside in the cool darkness Josh turned suddenly.

      ‘It’s too early to go home. Do you want to go home?’ he asked Julia.

      Slowly, she shook her head.

      ‘Josh never sleeps,’ Harry said. He flung out his arm to a passing taxi. ‘I’ll see Mattie home.’

      He held open the door for her. Mattie’s knuckles brushed against Julia’s, hidden in the folds of their full skirts. She took her hand quickly, and squeezed it. Julia watched her friend subside into the taxi with Harry beside her, but she didn’t look round. The cab chugged away into the night.

      I love you, Mattie, she thought.

      ‘Julia Smith,’ Josh said softly. ‘What shall we do now?’

      Julia looked up. They sky was powdered with faint stars. ‘Let’s walk a little way.’

      He took her hand, drawing it close against him. They began to walk, not noticing which way, perfectly in step.

      ‘I’ve talked all night about aircraft and ski-slopes,’ Josh complained. ‘I’m surprised you’re not asleep. I don’t know anything about you, except how pretty you are.’

      Julia laughed. There was nothing to tell Josh, she thought. She was a blank canvas, like one of Felix’s, waiting. The idea was intoxicating. She felt electrically alive, charged with an astonishing happiness. It made her want to take hold of everything, that lamp-post and these shop windows and the newspapers crumpled in the gutter and hold them, here and now, because they were part of Josh and part of tonight. Nothing could go wrong tonight. Nothing could touch her now.

      ‘I can’t fly. I can’t ski.’ She heard herself laughing.

      Josh lifted her hand and kissed the knuckles, where they had brushed against Mattie’s. ‘I’ll teach you.’

      So much to learn.

      ‘There’s one thing,’ Julia said softly. She would tell Josh, of course. ‘It’s why this evening happened, in a way. My mother told me today that I’m adopted.’ She lifted her chin, looking at him. ‘I didn’t know. I’m on my own, now.’ It was easy to say that, because she knew that she wasn’t.

      Josh