Rising Summer Read Online Free Page A

can see my problem.’
    ‘Yes, ruddy hard luck, mate,’ I said, ‘but my sister doesn’t go out with married men. And she’s shy, anyway, aren’t you, sis?’
    ‘I’m overcome,’ said Aunt May.
    ‘Hell, ain’t that a shame?’ said the sergeant. ‘All the same, nice talking to the both of you. Enjoy the show. I’ve seen it myself, it’s a hoot. So long, guys.’
    ‘Good luck,’ I said and off he went to search for other talent.
    Aunt May was having hysterics. ‘You’ll be my death one day, Tim,’ she said, ‘all that funny talk of yours.’
    The show was a riot. Bud Flanagan, Chesney Allen, Nervo and Knox and the rest of the Crazy Gang cracked their wartime jokes, took off army generals and ATS commandants, bashed each other, tore about the stage and chucked things at the audience. The whole theatre kept erupting. Aunt May laughed until her tears ran.
    When we got home we put together a pot of tea and some fried bacon sandwiches, a Walworth speciality. We listened to the Saturday night wireless programme and to the news. The news was all about how the Allies were doing. They were doing fine, apparently. Someone ought to be telling that to the Japs and Germans. It might make them give in.
    When it was time for bed, Aunt May said, ‘It was a lovely evening, Tim.’
    ‘Can’t be bad, can it, an evening with the Crazy Gang?’
    ‘But take a nice girl out next time,’ she said.
    ‘Well, I’m making an effort with Meg tomorrow,’ I said. ‘We’re going to wander around Hyde Park. Simple and healthy stuff.’
    ‘Meg’s good company,’ said Aunt May.
    ‘So are you. Aunt May, don’t you get lonely sometimes?’
    ‘Now, how can anyone get lonely in Walworth?’ she said. ‘Walworth is full of neighbours and doorsteps.’
    ‘I wonder sometimes if you couldn’t have had a lot more than you have had,’ I said.
    ‘Now, how can you say that after we’ve had twenty years together?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes, but—’
    ‘They’ve all been worthwhile, love, every one.’
    Meg enjoyed Hyde Park. She wasn’t a girl to get bored if she wasn’t riding the moon. Hyde Park was a green playground and the afternoon was bright. She looked swingy in her uniform and ready for fun, as long as it wasn’t the kind of fun where she had to fight her way out of it. She helped boys to sail their toy boats on the Serpentine, much to their delight. There was a regiment of smart-looking Yanks about and several arrived to give Meg and the boys some American advice on the sailing of boats. A broad-shouldered wallop of a GI began to take Meg over. He thought that as a Waaf she was cute. Meg was responsive. She liked extrovert males. This one said he was Steve Schuster from New Jersey. He and Meg seemed like kindred spirits. They exchanged stories of their lives and both seemed to have enjoyed tearaway years.
    Steve invited both of us to a party. Some joint in Bloomsbury, he said. He’d got the address and an invitation. The party was to begin at six in the evening. How about it? Meg was all for it. I went along in case she needed help.
    The party was based on gin and tonic and instant fraternization. The GIs brought the gin and bottles of tonic kept appearing like magic. I lost count of how many GIs were there. They heavily outnumbered the girls. Meg stood up to encircling tactics like a real Walworth trouper.
    ‘Hands off, mate, I’m in uniform,’ she said.
    ‘Sure fancy you out of it, honey,’ said one hopeful GI.
    ‘You’ll be lucky,’ said Meg.
    Girls yelled and rushed about, upstairs and downstairs. Whose house it was, nobody seemed to know, or if there were actually a host and hostess. The GIs kept asking where the ice was.
    ‘It’s not where you’re looking right now,’ said a young lady from Penge, smacking the hand of an investigative bloke from Virginia.
    A charming lady in maroon silk with no shoulders to the dress floated around with a cigarette holder between her teeth, asking if anyone had brought