Fallen Skies Read online

  Lily came up beside him and put her hand on the small of his back as he stood, watching the waves.

  “Charlie . . .”

  He gave a sudden wordless exclamation and then turned and caught her into his arms, crushing her against him, her face into his shoulder, his cheek pressed against her fair head. Lily, unable to move, hardly able to breathe, stood motionless, half-dizzy with sudden desire.

  As soon as he slackened his grip, Lily flung her arms around his neck and raised her face but Charlie did not kiss her. He held her gently, scanning her face. Lily was flushed, her eyes bright.

  “I thought you said spooning was beastly and you were never going to do it with anybody?”

  Lily caught her breath. “This is different, I feel . . .” She broke off. “Charlie, will you kiss me?”

  His smile down at her eager face was very rueful. “I suppose I will,” he said with mock reluctance, then he bent his dark head and his lips met hers.

  Lily felt herself melt with rising desire. Her conscious mind noted that her legs felt suddenly weak and her whole body was longing for the touch of Charlie all over. She tightened her arms around his neck, pressing his mouth still harder down on hers. She heard herself make a tiny noise, a little moan, and suddenly understood what her mother had meant about getting carried away. Lily felt that Charlie could have carried her away in a handcart and she would not have objected. More than anything else in the world she wanted to lie down and feel the weight of Charlie along the length of her body. She bent slightly at the knees.

  Charlie stayed determinedly upright. After a few minutes he released her, and then put his arm around her waist to steady her. Lily’s eyelids fluttered open slowly. She looked around at the blue moving sea, the shingle beach and Charlie’s tight smile.

  “And that’s our lot,” Charlie said gently. “Your ma would skin me alive if she knew I’d brought you out into the country and then kissed you.”

  “No she wouldn’t, she likes you.”

  “She might like me when she sees me taking care of you at the theatre. She’d like me a lot less if she knew I took advantage of you when we’re away on tour.”

  “But you didn’t.” Lily, finding her legs still a little unsteady, sat on the shingle and looked up at Charlie. “I took advantage of you.”

  “Well, you’re a forward hussy,” Charlie said pleasantly. “And you won’t catch me in a weak moment again.”

  He turned his back to Lily and stooped and picked out another flat stone. “Watch this,” he said. He threw it with a smooth sideways lob at the tops of the waves and the stone skipped. “Four! Four jumps. Bet you can’t do better than that!”

  “Bet you I can. I spent my childhood on Southsea beach, remember.”

  Lily scrambled to her feet and picked a stone. Feet astride, frowning as she took aim, she threw it at the waves. It skipped along from crest to crest. “Three, four, five!” Lily yelled, diverted. “Beat five if you can!”

  Charlie picked another stone but it sank on four. Lily’s next was too heavy and dropped down at three. They threw for a few more moments.

  “It’s hot,” Lily said. “I wish I’d brought my swimming costume.”

  Charlie shot a quick look along the cliff. The skyline was deserted for miles in both directions, the only access to the cove was down the little zigzag path. “You could swim in your camiknickers,” he said. “I’ve got a towel in the sidecar.”

  Lily was unbuttoning her shirt. “Will you swim?”

  Charlie grinned. “Why not? I’ll get that towel first.”

  He set off up the cliff path as Lily stepped out of Madge’s trousers and folded them carefully, laying them on the shingle. She picked her way down to the water’s edge over the knobbly stones. Charlie, climbing up the path, heard her shriek as a wave splashed her thighs. He turned and looked back.

  Lily was wearing old-fashioned cotton camiknickers. They clung to her slim long back and as a wave splashed her he could see the smooth lovely outline of her buttocks. He watched her for a little while, saw her confident plunge into a wave and the strength of her stroke. When he turned to walk the last few yards to the motorcycle, his face was grim.

  Lily was a small dot heading out to the horizon when Charlie arrived back at the beach with a large stripy towel. He shouted to her, and when she turned, waved her inwards. He stripped down to his shorts and waded into the sea and swam out towards her.

  “Going for France, Lil?”

  Lily pointed to a tiny island, weed-covered, which stood in the centre of the bay. “I was going to that.”

  Charlie shook his head. “Too far,” he said firmly. “You will keep an old man happy and stay within your depth.”

  Lily made a face at him and duck-dived. He saw the gleam of greenish fair hair underwater and then felt a tickle around his toes. When Lily burst up out of the water she was laughing so much that she choked. She turned and swam away from him and Charlie gave chase.

  For an hour they played in the deep water and then they swam inshore and lazed in the shallows. The receding tide had uncovered a little shelf of sand studded with small pink shells. Lily, rolled over and back by the incoming waves, collected a handful, and then got up.

  “You can have first go with the towel,” Charlie said. “I’ll have another quick swim.”

  He turned his back on her and went out to sea and swam until he judged she would be dressed. When he came back inshore she was waiting for him with the towel spread out as if she would wrap him up in it. Charlie took it from her hands, fending her off, and skipped over the pebbles to his clothes. Lily openly watched him as he dried himself and pulled on his shirt and trousers.

  “You’ve got lovely skin.” Her voice was lazy. Charlie sensed her desire as sweet as perfume.

  He grinned. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

  “My dad was hairy all over. I don’t like that. But you’ve got a lovely smooth back.”

  “I want a cup of tea,” Charlie announced. “Did you see a tea shop at any of those villages we came through?”

  Lily thought. “Wasn’t there one at the post office, in that last little place?”

  “Excellent,” Charlie said. “You may race me up the cliff.”

  Lily started out at a good pace but stopped halfway up, panting and holding her side. Charlie, at a steady jog, trotted past her and overtook her. He slowed and they reached the top neck and neck.

  “An honourable draw,” Charlie said.

  He scrunched the paper bags, put the empty lemonade bottle in the sidecar and shook the crumbs from Lily’s headscarf. “Sidmouth tomorrow. Have you ever been there, Lil?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never been anywhere but daytrips from home. I just love it. Is Sidmouth pretty—like here?”

  Charlie nodded and helped Lily into the sidecar. “It’s pretty all along here,” he said. He kick-started the engine and it roared into life.

  “Tea for two!” he yelled.

  The motorbike swung out into the lane and cruised along. Charlie relished the smell of the hedges in bloom and the flowers on the roadside. Over the noise of the engine he could hear Lily singing: “. . . a boy for you, a girl for me . . .”

  She looked up and smiled at him with her whole heart in her eyes. Charlie, despite himself, winked at her and smiled back.

  • • •

  The theatre in Sidmouth was the smallest they had played on the tour. The bar at the back of the theatre was open to the auditorium. If they were rowdy in the bar then the audience would turn around in their seats and yell at them. Sometimes fights broke out. Lily was in a state of utter terror at going before them to sing a sacred song but Charlie had been right when he had judged the deep sentimental streak in the most unruly English crowd. And Lily did not realize how captivating she was as a choir boy.

  They listened to Lily with attention and they clapped warmly and long at the end of her song. Sylvia de Charmante, on the other hand, received whistles and catcalls and loud indecen