Lucille

The people were beautiful, Lucille noticed. It was like walking through a collection of wax figurines of dancers and artists that would be likened to the China dolls she could remember her mother loving. Her mother. Adds' grandmother. What would she think?

Her mother would have loved it here. She was always one for big parties and rolling streets and a busy lifestyle. It was why she would always take Lucille to Paris. She had always wanted to see England too.

Now, as she glanced around the vast room at the hoards of Englishmen and woman, dancing and smiling as the jazz band played at the front, Lucille wondered if she would approve. Both of the manor of party and Tommy. And of the fact that she had birthed a child out of wedlock. Her mother may have been a woman who enjoyed modern movements, but she was as old fashioned at heart as Lucille's grandmother.

She watched as Tommy made his way to the back door, Grace in tow. John met them there, dumping down tied sacks that clattered to the floor with a jangle that even Lucille could hear. As if feeling her stare, he lifted his head in her direction, smiling cheekily as he lifted his hand to wave, which she happily returned.

She faced away as he made his way toward Kimber. It was his business, and she wanted to play as little a part in it as possible at the moment. There was plenty time for that. He didn't want her to be involved either, and involved she wouldn't be. She couldn't do that to their daughter.A drink was placed in from of her by a handsome bar man. A gin, of some sort, that tasted as if it were flavoured by roses, the sharp perfumed taste even tickling at her nose.

A short while later, there was a sharp cough from behind her.

"Lucille, this is Billy Kimber. He has asked for a dance," Tommy said, motioning to the man beside him.

It took great effort to keep her painted lips from upturning in disgust. Kimber looked even greasier up close: his hair slicked back with too much oil and moustache combed so much that it looked as if it were patchy. A scent lingered beside him too, of too much after shave and a mingling stench of sweat. He looked her up and down, his small eyes hungry and lips upturned.

"If you will," he said, though with the harsh tone of voice, it was obvious that there was not much room for her to disagree.

"Okay." Lucille nodded, forcing her self to smile, although grimly, as she begun to follow him to the dance floor.

But Tommy stopped her by the waist, saying, "The minute you feel uncomfortable, find me. I'll be by his table."

She nodded gratefully and continued to walk toward the man. The quicker she started, the sooner she'd get away. Kimber placed his hands to her side, not bothering to stop himself from getting carried away, but Lucille stood tall, her eyes never leaving the position of looking straight behind him.

She wasn't particularly tall, but still, her only just reached to meet her height and she supposed be probably wore a heel to his pointed shoes. In fact, a lot of things about him were overtly feminine, though his attitude was anything but. In that way, he was nothing but a typical, misogynist man. Lucille could tell by the way he gripped her tightly, as if he was afraid she would try to slip away, and the way he stepped closer each time she tried to put distance between them.

"If I may ask, what's a pretty girl like you doing with a man like him?" He asked, his face leaning in so he could speak to her ear. "Do you love him?"

She refused to answer him- he was just trying to ruse her into a conversation that he wasn't very good at. She did love Tommy, but she had a feeling that telling him that wouldn't be a clever idea. Kimber raised a brow. She didn't need to answer for him to know the truth, apparently.

"That's funny when you could be with so much better." There was a growl to his voice.

"Like you?"

Lucille couldn't help herself as she replied with a snap, a hint of humour behind her speech. She looked down at him with a pointed gaze, watching as he smiled slyly, disregarding any sense of contempt in her response. He would take what he could get, even if it was based on falsities. That scared her.

"That's right," he purred, leaning closer. She edged away. "You're french?"

"Yes." Lucille swallowed.

"I heard french girls can get freaky." She almost choked. "Should we find out?"

Her hands made contact with his scratchy suit and she pushed him away. It was light, and Kimber barely stepped back a couple of paces.

"I'd like a drink," she said. He stepped forward again.

"Lets get one."

She flinched away from his outreached hand.

"I can find my way on my own," she snapped.

Lucille walked away with a slight stomp to her step, sliding straight past the bar and toward Tommy, who stood at the opposite end of it. Grace was already walking away, an empty glass in her hand.

"What a disgusting man!" Lucille exclaimed. "You're letting Grace go with him?"

Tommy breathed out as she stopped by his side, her hands finding there way to lean comfortingly against the glass top of the bar. She couldn't work out wether it had been in relief or annoyance, but either way he sighed again, lighting a cigarette and looking away. Lucille rolled her eyes, taking it from his fingers and stumping the lit end against the counter, feeling his eyes drift to meet her stern glare with amusement.

"Only for a short while." He shrugged casually, which irked her. "We have it figured out."

"I hope you've planned well. I wouldn't want her to spend anymore time with him than she has to." Lucille shuddered she the thought of what he would do. "What're you doing with him anyway?"

"He's our pathway to a legal business within the races." Tommy left it at that.

"Then let's hope it goes well." After the short but concerning dance with Kimber, she couldn't find it in her to say anything else.

"Come on, by the time we drive there slowly, I'll have to go in."

For the majority of the drive to Kimber's rather large estate house, they were silent. Lucille's nails were bitten and Tommy's jaw rubbed raw. It seemed they were both driven anxious with the knowledge that Grace had been left with a man as revolting as he was.

Tommy parked at the edge of the drive, far enough away that it couldn't be easily seen from the downstairs windows. At the same tome, the glass panes blurred the insides, and Lucille, nosy enough, found herself straining to get a glimpse of the front rooms. But all she was left with, was the dark colour of emerald green and a flash of red. Grace.

Tommy was already nodding to her as Lucille turned to ask him to go in, his eyes trailing between her and the doorway. Then he was moving swiftly from the car, advancing rather calmly across the pebbles drive and through the door, unlocked.

She held her breath. She couldn't see through the windows. But then within only another couple of seconds, Grace was rushing to the car, her bag clutched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles burned white. Lucille's stomach lurched.

The door banged shut behind her as Grace sat in the back of the car, Tommy not too far behind her. She glanced out of the window as they wasted no time in driving away, the tension in the air slowly dissolving with every meter they put in between the car and Kimber's home.

"Thank you. For following through," Grace said, her voice timid.

Tommy just nodded in acknowledgement, his jaw clenched.

"That man deserves not a minute of your time," Lucille said and Grace merely smiled weakly, turning to face the window again.

They were silent as they drove away, not a single word shared over the muttering of the engine.

Sorry for slow updates, I've
been focused on school prep
work for sixth form and I'm
planning to open an Etsy shop. Thanks for understanding x