Night and Day, Bomb Girls, Betty/Kate
Title: Night and Day
Fandom: Bomb Girls
Rating: PG
Words: 3,074
Characters: Betty/Kate, Gladys, Vera
Summary:"You've obviously never truly loved anyone. If you had, you would understand. If you had, you'd know that love makes you care so much about another person that society's stupid rules just don't matter anymore."
Notes: Written for Yuletide 2012 for Grimmalie - who asked for either angst or schmoop - so I've thrown in a bit of each.
Written before I saw the trailers for season two, only season one spoilers.
Disclaimer: The Girls and the show belong to Shaw Media. I just like playing in the sandbox.
They're writing songs of love, but not for me,
A lucky star's above, but not for me,
With love to lead the way,
I found more clouds of grey,
Than any Russian play could guarantee.
"But Not for Me"
lyrics by Ira Gershwin
Toronto, Ontario, 1943
Laughter filled the canteen, bouncing off the walls and echoing in Betty's ears. The ladies of Blue Shift were gathered around a lunch table, all their attention on the birthday girl.
Betty was craving a cigarette. The need was almost enough to make her step outside to the safety of the smoking zone, but she couldn't move from where she was leaning. Kate's smile pinned Betty to the canteen wall, her laugh welded Betty's feet to the ground.
"Are you ever going to tell her?" Gladys dropped into a nearby chair. She tossed her purse on the table. An envelope slid out onto the table, the creased and smudged surface grimy in the yellow light of the canteen.
Betty reached out and tucked the paper safely back into the bag before looking Gladys in the face. "Tell her what?" she asked. Her voice was impressively level, she thought.
"That you're the real reason why she's here, celebrating her birthday with her friends, rather than with that horrible man who wasn't fit to call himself a father?"
Betty sighed. She'd been wondering if Gladys had seen something, worked out the secret somehow. She worried about that more and more these days. The two of them had been through some terrible things together in past year, and Gladys knew her better than anyone.
Eighteen months ago if someone had told Betty that her best friend would be a society girl, she would have laughed in their face. Now Gladys was Betty's closest friend and ally at Victory Munitions.
"She still thinks it was me, you know that?" Gladys reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a slim flask. She topped up her cup, pinky out as she poured. The fancy rich girl was almost gone - not so rich now, not so refined, but she still had a few elegant tricks, even in her denim trousers and short Vingle haircut.
Betty accepted the flask with a smile. The Gladys who had first come to work in the factory wouldn't have drunk spiked punch, let alone been the one providing the whisky.
Gladys used her cup to gesture at Kate. "I don't know if she's ignoring the fact that you were the only one who had any idea where to find her, or if she honestly thinks I had Father pull magic puppet strings, but Kate doesn't have any idea that you're the one who saved her."
Betty took a gulp of punch, the burn of the cheap alcohol an excuse for her grimace. It was like this every time. Eventually Gladys would ask Betty why she didn't want to be Kate's hero. The problem was, that was exactly what she wanted.
For ten months, all her waking thoughts, and a lot of her dreams, had been about finding Kate and convincing her to leave the father who beat her. Convincing her to come back to the people who loved her. Because no matter what anyone said about deviance and immorality, Betty loved Kate more than she had ever loved another person.
"I remember what Mr. Moretti said to me, when he went to get her out of there, what he said about the house," Betty said, finally. "About how miserable it was. He said you could smell it in the air, that it clung to his clothes like cordite stink."
She glanced over at Kate, watching her face light up as she opened another present. Her smile warmed Betty even as it made her ache.
"I don't want her to have to think about that place ever again. You see how happy she is..."
Kate held up a pair of clean but clearly used silk stockings, then turned to hug the girl who had gifted them. Each present gave her so much joy.
"I don't care what Kate thinks about how we got her out of there," Betty said, pulling out the chair beside Gladys. "She can think it was Santa Claus and Wonder Woman, for all that it matters. I'm just glad that we got her back."
The night club was noisy and smoke hung thick in the air. Vera dropped in to her chair, jostling the table and making everyone clutch their glass.
"What's the gossip, girls?" she asked. "I miss so much, not working on the floor."
"Oh, for goodness sake," Kate heaved a sigh. "You see at least as much as we do from up there."
"You were the first one to know about Mrs. Corbett and Mr. Moretti," Gladys said. "What was it you said? It was all in how they didn't look at each other?"
"Yup. Just like in a film, it gives you away every time," Vera nodded. "Not looking at the object of your affection is as obvious as blushing every time you see him."
"Maybe Mr. Moretti stopped looking away, but he blushes a lot these days, especially when Mrs. Corbett brings the baby around," Gladys said. "I think it's sweet."
Kate sighed. "It's not sweet. It's adultery. Mrs. Corbett's marriage is broken. That poor child is a bastard."
"But Mr. Moretti and Mrs. Corbett seem happy," Gladys argued. "And I heard that Edith is stepping out with Mr. Corbett."
"Probably not stepping out."
"Vera!" Kate exclaimed. "That's not nice. Mr. Corbett is a veteran. Be respectful."
"Sorry," Vera shook her head. "Don't mind my mouth. Still, it's kind of funny to think of Edith romancing a cripple."
"Maybe she likes him for other reasons," Betty suggested. "Mr. Corbett's a good man. Look at all the toys he makes for the kids at Christmas. Not everything thing is about… that…"
Vera laughed. "Sure, Bets. But you're right, Mr. Corbett's a decent guy."
Kate leaned forward. "And that's why it's so wrong. Mr. and Mrs. Corbett were married for years. He's a good man, so she must have loved him. But Mrs. Corbett just decides one day that she loves some man fifteen years younger than her?" Kate's expression as a close to sneer as Betty had ever seen it. "And that makes it okay for her to commit adultery?"
"She married young. Maybe she was happy at first, but then she wasn't. Then she found someone who made her happy again," Gladys said quietly.
Betty watched as Kate and Gladys stared each other down. She didn't want to say anything. She knew more about love that broke the rules than anyone at the table, but the last thing she wanted was to remind Kate about that. They had begun to mend their friendship, Betty thought, small steps that gave her hope.
"Love isn't always what you thought it was when we were young, Kate," Gladys continued. "You have to remember that rules change, people change, our expectations change."
"Ain't that the truth," Vera said, the humour in her voice breaking the tension. She winked at Gladys with her uninjured eye.
"And how is old Mr. Martin the metal manufacturer?" Betty asked. "Still coming around to fix mistakes in his invoices?"
Vera blushed. She turned her head so that her wig hid her face.
"Just because he isn't a young man..." she protested. "He's really kind and he says he doesn't care about..." she brushed a hand over the hair covering her face. "It's not easy. His daughter is seventeen, and she never lets him forget that I'm not even ten years older. She says I'm some kind of good-time girl, a gold-digger. But I..."
Gladys leaned forward to put an arm around Vera's shoulders, turning the blond girl into her embrace. "But you love him?"
Vera nodded silently and Betty could see tears on her cheek. It made her throat tight and she reached out to squeeze Vera's arm.
"She'll learn soon enough, Ver. You're a peach, and..." Betty cast about for something reassuring to say.
"And it will all work out in the end," Kate chimed in. "You'll see. When it's meant to be, it all works out in the end."
Vera smiled her thanks, and then she pulled out a compact and started to powder away the tear tracks. "Well, you might just be right," she said. "It was a little mistake that had me stay late the day I met Simon. I wonder if that's the same kind of thing that brought Mrs. Corbett and Marco together, some tiny little event that changed their fate."
"I bet it was because all that arguing they did eventually had to turn into something else," Betty suggested, leaning forward to steal one of Gladys' cigarettes. "I mean, you don't fight that much unless there's something going on."
Gladys swatted Betty's hand but let her steal the smoke. She took one for herself and lit it with a heavy silver lighter. "I always thought so. I mean, those two have more passion when they fight than Hepburn and Tracy. Speaking of people who break the rules for love."
"No kidding," Vera shook her head. "They fight like cats in a sack. No one else would put up with that. Proves to me they're right for each other."
"If it was right it wouldn't hurt people." Kate's voice was shrill. "If it was meant to be, they wouldn't have to break the rules."
"Love isn't convenient, Kate," Gladys said. Her voice was low and she was gripping her necklace tightly. "Sometimes you have to break the rules or you'll lose the person you love, and if people get hurt, well, there's nothing you can do about it."
"Yes, there is. Don't break the rules, no one gets hurt." Kate's cheeks were flushed. "If we all just did what was right, followed the rules, then everything would be fine."
Gladys stared at her for a moment, then stood. "You've obviously never truly loved anyone. If you had, you would understand the way all of us understand. If you had, you'd know that love makes you care so much about another person that society's stupid rules just don't matter anymore."
She ground out her cigarette and snatched up her purse. "I'll see you girls back at the house."
Betty watched Gladys march away, head high, back straight. Her society mother would be impressed by that exit, Betty though wryly. Although the tears that kept escaping ruined the effect a little. Watching her friend bravely storm out of the bar, she felt a bitter anger well up. As Gladys slipped out the door, Betty turned to Kate.
"You're a uppity prig, did you know that? A foolish, stuck-up prude." Betty waved away Vera's calming hand. "You should keep your small-minded moralizing to yourself." Betty slugged back the rest of her drink and grabbed her bag, ready to follow Gladys. "Women who live in the real world and love with all their hearts don't need an uptight pastor's daughter telling them how love works. Especially when you wouldn't know love if it jumped up and poked you in the eye."
"Can you spare a smoke?"
Betty jumped at the sound of Kate's voice. She turned around slowly.
"I thought you stopped smoking?" Her voice felt trapped in her throat.
Kate was leaning against the rooming house wall. Her hair was tied back and her skin looked like fresh cream under the street lights. Betty ducked her eyes so that Kate wouldn't catch her staring.
"I did. It seemed like a good way to start a conversation."
Betty's breath caught. She missed the days when they didn't need an excuse to talk, when they wandered in and out of each others' rooms like there were no doors.
"I went to your room, but Gladys said you went out for a drink."
"Just met up with Vera." Betty took a drag off her cigarette and blew smoke towards the stars. "She's having engagement jitters, needs a little gin now and then."
"It's nice that you do that, since Gladys won't."
"Gladdie would hold Vera's hand any day. She's nicer than me," Betty said defensively.
"You're just a nice, Betty." Kate smiled. "You sit with Vera while she fusses so that Gladys doesn't have to listen to wedding talk that makes her think about James. That's plenty nice of you."
"Yeah, well, she'd do the same for me," Betty dropped her cigarette and crushed it under her heel. She pushed away from the wall and made for the front door.
"She said you'd been a good friend, you know. That you kept her from going mad when James was reported missing in action." Kate fell into step beside Betty as they climbed the porch steps. "She showed me the letter."
Surprise made Betty trip up the steps. Kate caught her around the waist and steadied her.
"All right?" she asked with a small smile, one hand still resting on Betty's back.
Betty nodded, her voice caught in her throat. Kate's hand slid along her back until it was wrapped around her waist.
"Let's go in, it's cold."
Betty let Kate lead her up the stairs and into the rooming house's parlour. While Kate fed coins into the gas meter, Betty pulled off her coat.
"What a sad story." Kate stepped away from the heater. "That letter made my heart ache. All those dreams, all the beautiful things that James wrote…"
"All lost in the sands of North Africa," Betty said bitterly. "She told you about the other letter? The one that came first?"
Kate sank onto the settee beside Betty. "What a cruel trick of fate. To be told that James was missing, presumed dead, and then have his letter arrive two days later."
"She cried for weeks," Betty said, remembering. "She would come into my room every night and lie there, crying without making a sound. She'd have the letter in one hand and his lighter in the other. Eventually she stopped crying, but she still sleeps with that letter."
Kate's smile was sad. "I know why she does that. Sometimes clinging to dreams is the only way to keep from going mad. Especially when you think you've lost everything that ever made you happy, everything you love."
She shifted on the cushions, her knees bumping against Betty's.
"When I unpacked at my father's house, I found that I'd brought that green scarf of yours. You remember, the one you loaned me for Advent Sunday? Anyway, I put it in a drawer. I was still so confused." Kate shook her head. "But that didn't last long. I regretted going home almost as soon as I unpacked. It was as bad as before. Even worse after Mother died. I desperately wanted to leave."
She reached out and twined her fingers with Betty's. "I wanted you to come and get me. Every night, I would wrap your scarf around my hands and dream of you coming for me, but I knew I had been too cruel to you and that you wouldn't come." Her fingers tightened. "Still, I slept with that scarf and prayed. Even impossible dreams are better than admitting there's no hope at all."
As Betty watched helplessly, tears began to well in Kate's eyes and slide down her cheeks.
"When Mr. Moretti and Mrs. Corbett and Gladys arrived, I knew I had hurt you too much, that you weren't coming to save me. And that really upset me," Kate continued. "I realized that I had ruined, thrown away, the best friendship I have ever, ever had because I didn't understand you. I still don't understand you," she admitted, "but I don't think you're a bad person."
Betty pulled her hands free. "I'm not a bad person?" she asked harshly. "Not a bad person? I'll have you know that I'm a damn good person, as good as you, preacher's daughter."
"Betty, please!" Kate grabbed her hands again. "Listen to me." She took a deep breath. "What I meant was, I don't think that the way you feel is deviant or bad. I don't understand it, but then you were right yesterday, I don't know much about love. I don't understand what makes me feel one way about Gladys and Vera, and another way about you. Because I do feel differently about you."
Kate met Betty's eyes boldly.
"I thought of you every day that we were apart. Not always important thoughts. Sometimes I would see something, or hear a song on the wireless, and I'd think 'I want to share this with Betty' because that's what I do... did. Every part of my life that was important was better because I had you there with me. I never realized it until I didn't have you. And then I missed you so, so much."
Betty felt her own eyes burn with tears. She wanted to tell Kate that she felt the same way, that she had missed her every day they were apart, but she couldn't speak.
"I thought of you so much, of how I felt," Kate's voice was soft. "I finally realized that I must love you."
Betty's throat constricted until she felt like she couldn't breathe.
"I don't know what kind of love it is," Kate said, gripping Betty's hands tightly. "I don't know if it's how you feel about me. I'm afraid…"
Kate's voice cracked and Betty squeezed her fingers.
"I'm afraid of love, Betty. All I see is people who are hurt by love: you, Gladys, Mrs. Corbett. But I love you, Betty, and I don't want to spend another day without you in my life."
Kate's shy smile was the most beautiful sight Betty had ever seen. She untangled her fingers from Kate's and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. Leaning into Kate's warmth, she whispered "You won't have to. I'll always be there for you. I love you."
Night and day, you are the one
Only you beneath the moon or under the sun
Whether near to me, or far
It's no matter, darling, where you are
I think of you day and night
"Night and Day"
by Cole Porter
Fandom: Bomb Girls
Rating: PG
Words: 3,074
Characters: Betty/Kate, Gladys, Vera
Summary:"You've obviously never truly loved anyone. If you had, you would understand. If you had, you'd know that love makes you care so much about another person that society's stupid rules just don't matter anymore."
Notes: Written for Yuletide 2012 for Grimmalie - who asked for either angst or schmoop - so I've thrown in a bit of each.
Written before I saw the trailers for season two, only season one spoilers.
Disclaimer: The Girls and the show belong to Shaw Media. I just like playing in the sandbox.
They're writing songs of love, but not for me,
A lucky star's above, but not for me,
With love to lead the way,
I found more clouds of grey,
Than any Russian play could guarantee.
"But Not for Me"
lyrics by Ira Gershwin
Toronto, Ontario, 1943
Laughter filled the canteen, bouncing off the walls and echoing in Betty's ears. The ladies of Blue Shift were gathered around a lunch table, all their attention on the birthday girl.
Betty was craving a cigarette. The need was almost enough to make her step outside to the safety of the smoking zone, but she couldn't move from where she was leaning. Kate's smile pinned Betty to the canteen wall, her laugh welded Betty's feet to the ground.
"Are you ever going to tell her?" Gladys dropped into a nearby chair. She tossed her purse on the table. An envelope slid out onto the table, the creased and smudged surface grimy in the yellow light of the canteen.
Betty reached out and tucked the paper safely back into the bag before looking Gladys in the face. "Tell her what?" she asked. Her voice was impressively level, she thought.
"That you're the real reason why she's here, celebrating her birthday with her friends, rather than with that horrible man who wasn't fit to call himself a father?"
Betty sighed. She'd been wondering if Gladys had seen something, worked out the secret somehow. She worried about that more and more these days. The two of them had been through some terrible things together in past year, and Gladys knew her better than anyone.
Eighteen months ago if someone had told Betty that her best friend would be a society girl, she would have laughed in their face. Now Gladys was Betty's closest friend and ally at Victory Munitions.
"She still thinks it was me, you know that?" Gladys reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a slim flask. She topped up her cup, pinky out as she poured. The fancy rich girl was almost gone - not so rich now, not so refined, but she still had a few elegant tricks, even in her denim trousers and short Vingle haircut.
Betty accepted the flask with a smile. The Gladys who had first come to work in the factory wouldn't have drunk spiked punch, let alone been the one providing the whisky.
Gladys used her cup to gesture at Kate. "I don't know if she's ignoring the fact that you were the only one who had any idea where to find her, or if she honestly thinks I had Father pull magic puppet strings, but Kate doesn't have any idea that you're the one who saved her."
Betty took a gulp of punch, the burn of the cheap alcohol an excuse for her grimace. It was like this every time. Eventually Gladys would ask Betty why she didn't want to be Kate's hero. The problem was, that was exactly what she wanted.
For ten months, all her waking thoughts, and a lot of her dreams, had been about finding Kate and convincing her to leave the father who beat her. Convincing her to come back to the people who loved her. Because no matter what anyone said about deviance and immorality, Betty loved Kate more than she had ever loved another person.
"I remember what Mr. Moretti said to me, when he went to get her out of there, what he said about the house," Betty said, finally. "About how miserable it was. He said you could smell it in the air, that it clung to his clothes like cordite stink."
She glanced over at Kate, watching her face light up as she opened another present. Her smile warmed Betty even as it made her ache.
"I don't want her to have to think about that place ever again. You see how happy she is..."
Kate held up a pair of clean but clearly used silk stockings, then turned to hug the girl who had gifted them. Each present gave her so much joy.
"I don't care what Kate thinks about how we got her out of there," Betty said, pulling out the chair beside Gladys. "She can think it was Santa Claus and Wonder Woman, for all that it matters. I'm just glad that we got her back."
The night club was noisy and smoke hung thick in the air. Vera dropped in to her chair, jostling the table and making everyone clutch their glass.
"What's the gossip, girls?" she asked. "I miss so much, not working on the floor."
"Oh, for goodness sake," Kate heaved a sigh. "You see at least as much as we do from up there."
"You were the first one to know about Mrs. Corbett and Mr. Moretti," Gladys said. "What was it you said? It was all in how they didn't look at each other?"
"Yup. Just like in a film, it gives you away every time," Vera nodded. "Not looking at the object of your affection is as obvious as blushing every time you see him."
"Maybe Mr. Moretti stopped looking away, but he blushes a lot these days, especially when Mrs. Corbett brings the baby around," Gladys said. "I think it's sweet."
Kate sighed. "It's not sweet. It's adultery. Mrs. Corbett's marriage is broken. That poor child is a bastard."
"But Mr. Moretti and Mrs. Corbett seem happy," Gladys argued. "And I heard that Edith is stepping out with Mr. Corbett."
"Probably not stepping out."
"Vera!" Kate exclaimed. "That's not nice. Mr. Corbett is a veteran. Be respectful."
"Sorry," Vera shook her head. "Don't mind my mouth. Still, it's kind of funny to think of Edith romancing a cripple."
"Maybe she likes him for other reasons," Betty suggested. "Mr. Corbett's a good man. Look at all the toys he makes for the kids at Christmas. Not everything thing is about… that…"
Vera laughed. "Sure, Bets. But you're right, Mr. Corbett's a decent guy."
Kate leaned forward. "And that's why it's so wrong. Mr. and Mrs. Corbett were married for years. He's a good man, so she must have loved him. But Mrs. Corbett just decides one day that she loves some man fifteen years younger than her?" Kate's expression as a close to sneer as Betty had ever seen it. "And that makes it okay for her to commit adultery?"
"She married young. Maybe she was happy at first, but then she wasn't. Then she found someone who made her happy again," Gladys said quietly.
Betty watched as Kate and Gladys stared each other down. She didn't want to say anything. She knew more about love that broke the rules than anyone at the table, but the last thing she wanted was to remind Kate about that. They had begun to mend their friendship, Betty thought, small steps that gave her hope.
"Love isn't always what you thought it was when we were young, Kate," Gladys continued. "You have to remember that rules change, people change, our expectations change."
"Ain't that the truth," Vera said, the humour in her voice breaking the tension. She winked at Gladys with her uninjured eye.
"And how is old Mr. Martin the metal manufacturer?" Betty asked. "Still coming around to fix mistakes in his invoices?"
Vera blushed. She turned her head so that her wig hid her face.
"Just because he isn't a young man..." she protested. "He's really kind and he says he doesn't care about..." she brushed a hand over the hair covering her face. "It's not easy. His daughter is seventeen, and she never lets him forget that I'm not even ten years older. She says I'm some kind of good-time girl, a gold-digger. But I..."
Gladys leaned forward to put an arm around Vera's shoulders, turning the blond girl into her embrace. "But you love him?"
Vera nodded silently and Betty could see tears on her cheek. It made her throat tight and she reached out to squeeze Vera's arm.
"She'll learn soon enough, Ver. You're a peach, and..." Betty cast about for something reassuring to say.
"And it will all work out in the end," Kate chimed in. "You'll see. When it's meant to be, it all works out in the end."
Vera smiled her thanks, and then she pulled out a compact and started to powder away the tear tracks. "Well, you might just be right," she said. "It was a little mistake that had me stay late the day I met Simon. I wonder if that's the same kind of thing that brought Mrs. Corbett and Marco together, some tiny little event that changed their fate."
"I bet it was because all that arguing they did eventually had to turn into something else," Betty suggested, leaning forward to steal one of Gladys' cigarettes. "I mean, you don't fight that much unless there's something going on."
Gladys swatted Betty's hand but let her steal the smoke. She took one for herself and lit it with a heavy silver lighter. "I always thought so. I mean, those two have more passion when they fight than Hepburn and Tracy. Speaking of people who break the rules for love."
"No kidding," Vera shook her head. "They fight like cats in a sack. No one else would put up with that. Proves to me they're right for each other."
"If it was right it wouldn't hurt people." Kate's voice was shrill. "If it was meant to be, they wouldn't have to break the rules."
"Love isn't convenient, Kate," Gladys said. Her voice was low and she was gripping her necklace tightly. "Sometimes you have to break the rules or you'll lose the person you love, and if people get hurt, well, there's nothing you can do about it."
"Yes, there is. Don't break the rules, no one gets hurt." Kate's cheeks were flushed. "If we all just did what was right, followed the rules, then everything would be fine."
Gladys stared at her for a moment, then stood. "You've obviously never truly loved anyone. If you had, you would understand the way all of us understand. If you had, you'd know that love makes you care so much about another person that society's stupid rules just don't matter anymore."
She ground out her cigarette and snatched up her purse. "I'll see you girls back at the house."
Betty watched Gladys march away, head high, back straight. Her society mother would be impressed by that exit, Betty though wryly. Although the tears that kept escaping ruined the effect a little. Watching her friend bravely storm out of the bar, she felt a bitter anger well up. As Gladys slipped out the door, Betty turned to Kate.
"You're a uppity prig, did you know that? A foolish, stuck-up prude." Betty waved away Vera's calming hand. "You should keep your small-minded moralizing to yourself." Betty slugged back the rest of her drink and grabbed her bag, ready to follow Gladys. "Women who live in the real world and love with all their hearts don't need an uptight pastor's daughter telling them how love works. Especially when you wouldn't know love if it jumped up and poked you in the eye."
"Can you spare a smoke?"
Betty jumped at the sound of Kate's voice. She turned around slowly.
"I thought you stopped smoking?" Her voice felt trapped in her throat.
Kate was leaning against the rooming house wall. Her hair was tied back and her skin looked like fresh cream under the street lights. Betty ducked her eyes so that Kate wouldn't catch her staring.
"I did. It seemed like a good way to start a conversation."
Betty's breath caught. She missed the days when they didn't need an excuse to talk, when they wandered in and out of each others' rooms like there were no doors.
"I went to your room, but Gladys said you went out for a drink."
"Just met up with Vera." Betty took a drag off her cigarette and blew smoke towards the stars. "She's having engagement jitters, needs a little gin now and then."
"It's nice that you do that, since Gladys won't."
"Gladdie would hold Vera's hand any day. She's nicer than me," Betty said defensively.
"You're just a nice, Betty." Kate smiled. "You sit with Vera while she fusses so that Gladys doesn't have to listen to wedding talk that makes her think about James. That's plenty nice of you."
"Yeah, well, she'd do the same for me," Betty dropped her cigarette and crushed it under her heel. She pushed away from the wall and made for the front door.
"She said you'd been a good friend, you know. That you kept her from going mad when James was reported missing in action." Kate fell into step beside Betty as they climbed the porch steps. "She showed me the letter."
Surprise made Betty trip up the steps. Kate caught her around the waist and steadied her.
"All right?" she asked with a small smile, one hand still resting on Betty's back.
Betty nodded, her voice caught in her throat. Kate's hand slid along her back until it was wrapped around her waist.
"Let's go in, it's cold."
Betty let Kate lead her up the stairs and into the rooming house's parlour. While Kate fed coins into the gas meter, Betty pulled off her coat.
"What a sad story." Kate stepped away from the heater. "That letter made my heart ache. All those dreams, all the beautiful things that James wrote…"
"All lost in the sands of North Africa," Betty said bitterly. "She told you about the other letter? The one that came first?"
Kate sank onto the settee beside Betty. "What a cruel trick of fate. To be told that James was missing, presumed dead, and then have his letter arrive two days later."
"She cried for weeks," Betty said, remembering. "She would come into my room every night and lie there, crying without making a sound. She'd have the letter in one hand and his lighter in the other. Eventually she stopped crying, but she still sleeps with that letter."
Kate's smile was sad. "I know why she does that. Sometimes clinging to dreams is the only way to keep from going mad. Especially when you think you've lost everything that ever made you happy, everything you love."
She shifted on the cushions, her knees bumping against Betty's.
"When I unpacked at my father's house, I found that I'd brought that green scarf of yours. You remember, the one you loaned me for Advent Sunday? Anyway, I put it in a drawer. I was still so confused." Kate shook her head. "But that didn't last long. I regretted going home almost as soon as I unpacked. It was as bad as before. Even worse after Mother died. I desperately wanted to leave."
She reached out and twined her fingers with Betty's. "I wanted you to come and get me. Every night, I would wrap your scarf around my hands and dream of you coming for me, but I knew I had been too cruel to you and that you wouldn't come." Her fingers tightened. "Still, I slept with that scarf and prayed. Even impossible dreams are better than admitting there's no hope at all."
As Betty watched helplessly, tears began to well in Kate's eyes and slide down her cheeks.
"When Mr. Moretti and Mrs. Corbett and Gladys arrived, I knew I had hurt you too much, that you weren't coming to save me. And that really upset me," Kate continued. "I realized that I had ruined, thrown away, the best friendship I have ever, ever had because I didn't understand you. I still don't understand you," she admitted, "but I don't think you're a bad person."
Betty pulled her hands free. "I'm not a bad person?" she asked harshly. "Not a bad person? I'll have you know that I'm a damn good person, as good as you, preacher's daughter."
"Betty, please!" Kate grabbed her hands again. "Listen to me." She took a deep breath. "What I meant was, I don't think that the way you feel is deviant or bad. I don't understand it, but then you were right yesterday, I don't know much about love. I don't understand what makes me feel one way about Gladys and Vera, and another way about you. Because I do feel differently about you."
Kate met Betty's eyes boldly.
"I thought of you every day that we were apart. Not always important thoughts. Sometimes I would see something, or hear a song on the wireless, and I'd think 'I want to share this with Betty' because that's what I do... did. Every part of my life that was important was better because I had you there with me. I never realized it until I didn't have you. And then I missed you so, so much."
Betty felt her own eyes burn with tears. She wanted to tell Kate that she felt the same way, that she had missed her every day they were apart, but she couldn't speak.
"I thought of you so much, of how I felt," Kate's voice was soft. "I finally realized that I must love you."
Betty's throat constricted until she felt like she couldn't breathe.
"I don't know what kind of love it is," Kate said, gripping Betty's hands tightly. "I don't know if it's how you feel about me. I'm afraid…"
Kate's voice cracked and Betty squeezed her fingers.
"I'm afraid of love, Betty. All I see is people who are hurt by love: you, Gladys, Mrs. Corbett. But I love you, Betty, and I don't want to spend another day without you in my life."
Kate's shy smile was the most beautiful sight Betty had ever seen. She untangled her fingers from Kate's and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. Leaning into Kate's warmth, she whispered "You won't have to. I'll always be there for you. I love you."
Night and day, you are the one
Only you beneath the moon or under the sun
Whether near to me, or far
It's no matter, darling, where you are
I think of you day and night
"Night and Day"
by Cole Porter