Illicit.

It was a Thursday night unlike any other, as the clock chimed nine Edith fastened the buckles upon her dancing shoes and flattened down any crinkles that ironing had not dispelled within the cotton upon her dress. She was bathed in emerald green that night, with a black lace trim and a matching bow within her expertly curled hair created using rags from old petticoats and the metal rod that was constantly warming in the fire. Finishing her dressing ritual, Edith checked her appearance within the marked looking glass that lay on her bedside cabinet and placed a loving kiss upon the forehead of her father, whose expression reflected one of pure content as the wireless muttered the latest shipping forecast. The embers within the dying fire crackled and jumped out of onto the hearth as she closed the door behind herself careful not to stir her mother who always took early to bed during the winter season suffering greatly from her nerves.

Edith glanced at the clear dark sky that lay between her, the earth and the heavens and quietly enjoyed the chilling bite that an impending winter and a premature frost provides upon the skin. During the past few months, ever since the majority of the men of the town were deployed overseas to prevent the advances of Hitler’s forces, Edith took joy in experiencing any sensation as the fervour for life was ever more so sweet when faced with the possibility of a premature death. She turned the corner of her crescent which consisted of quaint and mostly dilapidated cottages and onto the main promenade of the residential street that faced the mass of cold and inviting water that added to the power and majesty of the north sea. Edith was off to meet her close friend, close confidant and most recently avid dancing partner, Charlotte, who lived midway down the front street in the most well kept house upon the terrace which during the summer boasted the most beautiful collection of roses within Astor Bay.

Charlotte, much alike the roses which bloomed outside her house perennially, was the most beautiful woman who lived within the once thriving fishing village, with a petite build with faultlessly blond hair and blue eyes that possessed such a depth and ageless quality that as a child Edith often believed her friend was a secret water baby. Tonight she was as impeccably dressed as always, in a scarlet crinoline gown and a pure white sash that cinched the beauty in at her enviable twenty eight inch waist. However, Charlotte was also as vacuous and vain as she was beautiful, which not only attracted a great deal of male attention from the masculine section of society within such a little town where everyone does indeed know everyone but also did not afford her many female friends who either objected to her company due to jealousy of her appearance or her inability to hold a conversation of any merit.

‘I have a good feeling about tonight Edith’ Charlotte mused in her sweet tones as they linked and wandered down the promenade to the dance hall. ‘Tony might finally ask me to dance’ Edith mumbled a reply, knowing full well Charlotte would continue regardless. ‘I think he will, this new dress would be a waste otherwise. He’s so handsome, don’t you think so Edith? He’s just perfect for me, a little taller and jet black hair – haven’t I always said I imagined the father of my children having dark hair? See, it’s fate. It’s him, it has to be. I bet Besty Lovett will be just so jealous of me, she’s always been after him y’see, oh the very look on her face. Yes, tonight will certainly be such a success I could squeal with laughter.’

‘Yes Charlotte’ Edith smiled to herself, taking care of each step she made along the cobbled street, her mind was occupied elsewhere having heard Thomas, the baker’s boy discussing the possibility of real prisoners of war being worked on the land up at the Kitty Brewster farm. It all seemed so exotic to her, men who had actually faced death, from a totally different land coming to rural Northumberland, the monotony of life in such a small town didn’t seem so, well monotonous then.

Charlotte shook her from her thoughts, ‘Edith, what do you think?’

‘S-Sorry’ Edith cleared her head of thoughts of foreign men, ‘I didn’t catch that, come again.’

‘You’re all flushed’ she giggled all knowingly, ‘dreaming about Andrew I expect, huh’ Charlotte winked suggestively at her friend before gesturing to the ring that Edith wore as a pendant around her neck. ‘How lucky of you to have brave man like that, I wonder that he’s probably off in some foreign land somewhere giving jerry what for I suspect! How dreamy Edith, you really did get so lucky with him, if only I could find someone like that.’ Charlotte eventually came up for air. ‘I’m sure Tony would enlist if I mentioned it to him, he was exempt from the last round of conscription, apparently his father needed him dealing with the local business, which is just as important, if not more so, if you ask me that is. If Tony wasn’t here, what would our boys, what would Andrew come home to if not chaos and destruction. It would be lovely to have a sweetheart in the forces though, maybe he would be part of the army, or the Royal Air Force or the navy... wouldn’t that be wonderful Edith... ’

Edith decided to zone Charlotte out, only adding a few encouraging noises and nods to the conversation finding her mind not dwelling on Andrew’s heroic decision and obligation to join the fight across the sea in Europe and in turn the secret vows they took with one another, but rather the possibility of excitement that new blood in the town posed within Astor Bay.

The clock on top of the town hall chimed half nine by the time Charlotte and Edith reached the town hall that was bathed in light from the main door being left slightly ajar which allowed the mellow notes of the church orchestra who convened to play at the dances, to drift out onto the fresh and rejuvenating night air. Edith took a deep breath of the frost ridden air before stepping through the front door into the foyer where both girls hung their coats upon an available peg.

‘Can you see Tony, Edith? I can’t, he promised he would be here. He might be in the hall itself, do you think? He loves it when the orchestra play at our dances, Tony is so cultured like that’. Charlotte in trepidation grasped Edith’s hand a little too tightly and spritely headed into the main hall where the dancing had already begun.

The hall always looked lovely on night’s like this, the red velvet curtains had just been cleaned and were pinned back with gold trim curtain ties to reveal the fifteen member strong church orchestra, whom that night were creating the mellow tones of Glen Miller. Edith glanced around her room, with women favouring the left side and men on the right, but in either of the mass of smiling faces Tony couldn’t be seen and Edith was secretly pleased.

‘Hmmph’ Charlotte sulked dragging Edith to the feminine corner of the room, ‘he isn’t here yet. Where is he? He promised Edith... he promised’.

‘Well, at least he isn’t dancing with Iris Bertram, that’s something at least’.

Charlotte glowered at Iris, her rival in Tony’s affections. Iris, much alike Charlotte, was the blossoming swans in a town of otherwise ugly ducklings, of which Edith counted herself as one. Iris was beautiful, there was no debate surrounding that, however she was even more flirtatious than she was physically alluring. With long and naturally wavy dark auburn hair and a light sprinkling of freckles around her jaw line and slender pale pink lips even women looked upon enviously as men swarmed to Iris and tried to accommodate her every fancy and what heightened Edith’s disdain of her – Iris was fully aware of her allure.

‘Edith, Charlotte’ Iris half smiled with a sickening sweetness as she sashayed across the dance hall taking extra care to make lengthy eye contact with some unfortunate soul at the other side of the function room. ‘I’m just so glad you could make it’.

Edith condescendingly returned her mock kindness, unwilling to rise to the Iris’ challenge of authority, ‘good evening’.

‘Where’s Tony tonight?’ Charlotte inquired, her eyes constantly moving between the men who congregated under a cloud of cigarette smoke. He wasn’t there.

‘Oh’ Iris had a devilish expression on her pursed mouth, ‘Tony is working tonight, his father needed him at the firm.’ Charlotte was visibly put out by this news. ‘He did promise a dance to me though Charlotte, so he wouldn’t miss that’.

Edith quickly tired of Iris and Charlotte’s tête à tête and controversially headed towards the masculine side of the room catching the eye of Thomas with a cheeky grin. Thomas was one of the nicest boys in the town of suitable age and class for Edith to openly socialise with. He looked very dapper that night in his Sunday best, with a dark navy smoking jacket and freshly ironed linen shirt. Many of the women at the dance that night would be forgiven for taking him as one of the most eligible and handsome men in the room.

‘Edith’ he cried walking forward to meet the petite brunette in the middle of the dance floor, seizing both her hands in a friendly manner, ‘you look positively lovely tonight’.

‘Oh, stop!’ she swatted his hand away.

‘You tired very quickly of Charlotte, have your nerves finally given way?’ A teasing grin formed on his mouth.

‘Thomas’ Edith scorned.

‘I know, I know.’

‘Listen, do you know what’s happening with the Kitty Brewster farm? You mentioned POW’s last week. Is that still happening?’

‘You are very nosy tonight Miss’ the pair moved away from the dance hall floor as the orchestra began warming up for the second half of the night’s entertainment. ‘Let’s grab some fresh air, I don’t fancy my chances with the prying eyes and ears in this room’.

In order prevent chins wagging, Edith and Thomas left the dance with a respectable amount of time between each other and reconvened their conversation on the decaying stone wall that separated the coastal path and the rear garden of the town hall with a beautiful vista of the mighty power of the water.

‘As you were saying...’ she began.

‘Patience E, patience.’

Edith perched herself on the rock lined wall careful not to mark her newly sewn gown waiting readily for Thomas’ news.

‘Are you sitting comfortably? Good. I’ll begin.’ Thomas took a deep intake of breath and began recounting the information he had been reliably informed by Elliot, the farmhand at the Kitty Brewster farm. ‘Last week, as Elliot was loading our weekly order of flour onto the back of the cart he told me some rather interesting information. The Ministry of Defence had sent a telegram to his father and informed him that the spare outbuildings that weren’t being used to store the hay for their livestock would be need for accommodation to house British Prisoners of War for the foreseeable future.’

Edith gasped, how exciting, she thought. ‘When are they coming, the prisoners I mean?’

‘As early as next month apparently’ Thomas reiterated. ‘The outbuildings and barns are more or less converted with bunks and all the amenities they need. Elliot was pretty frightened for his job, considering the Fritz would be working on the land.’

‘Oh my’ she uttered clutching the ring that had once again began to metaphorically suffocate her.

That was all of the information that Edith wanted to hear. The war had finally reached home and was settling down on the doorstep of their sleepy waterfront town.