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the_water_clock
Author: Clio
Title: A Dream That Could Not Last Chapter 12 of 12: Now, Voyager
Pairing: American Idol: Ryan Seacrest/Simon Cowell, Amanda Overmyer/Carly Smithson, Kimberley Locke/Anwar Robinson
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter Summary: Weddings and departures.
Chapter Length: 7700 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: A Dream That Could Not Last is an AU romantic comedy set in 1939 London, when everyone knew war was on the horizon but no one was sure when or how it would arrive—which made love of all kinds that much more important. Follow a year in the life of three groups of (mostly) Americans: pilots who joined the RAF, singers and dancers in a swing music revue, and reporters for BBC Radio. As usual there will be plenty of songs along the way to set the mood, plus art by the amazing
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bhanesidhe.This was a big undertaking, and needed a team. If I was the writer/director, then
locumtenens was my editor, lillijulianne, musicforcylons and evil_erato my producers, dana_kujan the actually helpful studio executive; and ali_wildgoose my executive producer who kept the train on the tracks in ways so numerous I cannot list them here.Prologue | 1: The Lady Eve | 2: Adam's Rib | 3: His Girl Friday | 4: Bringing Up Baby | 5: Stella Dallas | 6: Pursuits of Happiness | 7: Gaslight | 8: The Philadelphia Story | 9: Contesting Tears | 10: It Happened One Night | 11: The Awful Truth
31 October 1940
It was Kim's first night off since she had become engaged, and she and Jen were getting ready to meet Carly and Giuliana for dinner. Kim was excited—she could scarcely believe that it had happened, that Anwar was really hers; after all, she didn't even have a ring. But the phone calls she'd received over the last week had to be proof of something.
She and Jen were both surprised when Katharine came into their bedroom, dressed in black as she had been all week. Since Daughtry's death she'd been spending most of her off hours with Rabbi Yamin, distracting herself from her grief by helping the children in his care, and Kim was surprised to see her in the house on their day off. They'd invited her to the dinner out of some mixture of loyalty, manners, and sympathy, but she'd declined.
"Girls, I—I want to apologize," Kat said, looking down at the floor.
"Apologize for what, honey?" Jen asked.
"Well, with Christopher gone, and this war and all, and I just think—I think that people find happiness where they find it." She sat down on her bed. "I've been talking to Rabbi Yamin, and the way he answers the questions is so different than the priests back home. And then I think about these poor little children and how the church isn't helping them or their families. So maybe I don't know so much after all." She sighed. "If Ryan is what makes Mr. Cowell happy, and they're both good men, aren't they?"
"They are," Kim said, sitting down next to her.
"But you were right, Kim," she said. "I don't want to know about any of the others. I don't think I can be as understanding as you are."
Kim nodded.
Kat turned her head. "And before you say it, Jen, I don't want to sing anymore."
"Kat, I was just angry—"
"Oh, not because of these queers," Kat replied. "There are simply better things, more important things, for me to do with my energies. I think I'll stay here and help the Rabbi. He's been so much help to me, you see, and I want to really do something in this war. Carry on for Chris, but in my own way. And—" She paused for a moment, and Kim took her hand. "And it was the last thing we did together, working there, so it makes me feel close to him."
"Oh, Kat," Kim said, "I'm so sorry."
"I hope you girls understand why I decided not to go to dinner tonight," she said, sniffling. "But I'll be honored to attend your weddings. I just need a little time."
"Of course," Jen said.
Kat pulled a handkerchief out of her bag and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "Give Carly and Giuliana my love," she said, rising. "I'm off to talk to Randy now."
"Good luck," Kim said as she left.
Their encounter with Kat made Kim and Jen a little late for dinner, so Carly and Giuliana were already seated when they arrived. Kim just put up her hand and said, "Don't ask!"
"All right," Carly said. "Anyway, Jen, you said you had news!"
Jennifer grinned broadly, then said, "Looks like all the girls at this table are engaged!"
Carly and Giuliana gasped, and Kim had to chuckle at their reaction.
"But which one was it?" Giuliana asked.
"Neither, thank you very much," Jen replied. "I'm marrying George Huff."
"Oh, I always liked him," Giuliana said. "So kind."
"I don't understand," Carly said.
"What, that someone would marry me?" Jen asked.
"No, that you'd say yes," Carly replied. "You just never seemed the type. And George is so quiet, I never thought you'd noticed him."
"Jen, you have to admit, it's very surprising," Kim said gently. "I don't think the Smith boys took it too well, either."
"Oh, they'll be fine," Jen said with a wave of her hand. "Better than if I had chosen one of them over the other. Those boys need to find themselves some twin sisters, is what they need to do."
"How did you even begin?" Carly asked.
"Well, I admit, I was getting tired of Ricky and Nicky and trying to choose between them, and George was just sort of always there, you know? And after Paula left us, I just realized it was time to stop all the running around. Oh, it was fun at the time, don't get me wrong!" Jennifer laughed. "But I was ready to do something else."
Giuliana smiled. "So when you brought him to the party—"
"It was our first date! I had been talking to George at dinner, before Simon's party, and he said he wasn't any too enthusiastic about attending the party at the band house. And I said well, we could go to Simon's party, but it depended on how he felt about, well, you know. And he asked me just what profession I thought we were in."
"Mmm-hmm," Kim said.
"And I just looked at him, and he grinned at me, and suddenly so many other things looked different. I fell, just like that, all at once!"
"But are you sure, Jen?" Carly asked. "That you're really in love?"
Jennifer sat back in her chair, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Yes," she replied. "But that isn't even all my news! We're moving to Chicago, beginning of December."
"So we'll all be together!" Giuliana said.
"My people are there," Jennifer said, "and I still have some friends in the clubs. A girl singer and a piano player can work up a good act, especially if that singer and piano player are me and George."
Kim smiled at Jen's usual lack of modesty. "We'll have to try to find apartments near each other," she said.
"Now Carly," Jen said, "are you sure you want to live in the Negro part of town?"
Carly shrugged. "I'm sure that I want to share a flat with Kim," she replied. "She said she'd keep house for us, and after being spoiled by Joel's cooking, I don't want to go back to my own!"
"I hope you won't be so busy cooking that you neglect your studies," Giuliana said.
Kim shook her head. "Law school will be my top priority, I promise," she replied. "Besides, I'll need something to keep me busy while Robinson is away, for however long. Now, how is the job search going?"
"Ryan is very well connected," Carly said. "He got our tapes to the right people, and we have three interviews at the beginning of December!"
"I'm so glad you decided to come to America," Giuliana said.
"Well, the marriage makes it easier," Carly replied, "but I'm glad, too. Make all the changes at once! Oh, which reminds me, Kim, did you talk to Robinson?"
"Yes, and we'd be happy to have our ceremony with you," she said. "It makes sense, since we'd all be getting married at the base, and the same people would be there anyway. Might as well just have one cake, in these days of rationing."
"One negro couple and two queer couples," Jen remarked, smiling and shaking her head. "This sure isn't going to be your ordinary wedding."
"Is Amanda sorry to miss on the planning?" Giuliana asked.
"Are you joking?" Carly replied. "Amanda hates this sort of thing. She's very grouchy about having to coordinate the food, but she's there on the base so Kim and I said she had to do it. Blake said he practically had to tie her down to get her measurements for her wedding dress! But I think the wedding makes her look a bit more female to her bunkmates, and that's all to the good."
"I'm pleased Brooke could make those dresses for us," Kim said. "She's so fast with our costumes."
"I'm sure it's a nice change for her to make real dresses, no sequins or anything," Jen replied. She leaned forward. "So what I want to know is, what's your old-new-borrowed-blue?"
"My new is the dress," Giuliana said, "and I have my mother's earrings which are old, and I'm borrowing Papa's watch, and my flowers will be blue."
Carly said, "My dress is blue, and my shoes are new. I'll wear my grandmother's cross, and Simon is lending me a handkerchief."
"Let's see," Kim said, cocking her head. "New dress, and Jen is lending me a necklace, and I have an old hair comb I'll wear, and my lingerie is blue."
"Ooh," Carly said, "wedding lingerie!"
Kim looked around the table. "Didn't you all get some for your wedding night?"
"I did," Jen said, "but you know that sort of thing leads to babies."
"Well, for some of us," Kim said, smiling at Carly.
"No, no," Carly said. "Perhaps not on our wedding night, no, but we do plan to have children."
Jen sat back at that. "The four of you all together?"
"Yes," Carly said, nodding.
"Well," Kim said, "don't that beat all!"
Carly raised her glass. "Here's to—what do you call them, Giuliana?"
"Bambinos," she replied.
Carly nodded. "Here's to bambinos!"
19 November 1940
Ryan always thought of that fall as a series of weddings and departures. Even the Luftwaffe seem to have departed; the raids decreased in November and while there was still some danger, it wasn't a daily presence in their lives. The new battlefield against the Germans was not in Europe but in North Africa, where they had taken possession of the French colonies. Ryan thought about following Montgomery's troops, but NBC wanted him to wait, and head out with American troops later, whenever that might be. Besides, his life was here in London, with Simon. He and Joel were making plans to go back to the States for the Christmas holidays, and bring small David with them. Ryan wanted Simon to come, too, but he was being evasive, so Ryan left him alone.
Giuliana's wedding was simple and beautiful, as anyone would expect. It was quite small, just BBC people, Bill's London friends, the singers from the revue, and a few clients of her father's; Carly was maid of honor. After, there was a party at a local Italian restaurant run by a friend of the family, and Ryan was happy to eat until he was stuffed with pasta and cookies. The couple left to spend their honeymoon in New York City before settling in Chicago.
Sig. DePandi was bringing Diana over to Chicago himself, after her term was over in December. Small David was, as usual, determined to act like an adult, and had already proposed to the girl; he was eager to meet her people in the States over the Christmas holidays to make it official. Given the war, there were plenty of kids getting married all over, so Ryan didn't have it in him to stop them. Besides, Diana was just the sort of resourceful, sweet, level-headed girl that small David needed to keep him grounded and remind him not to go overboard with the self-sacrifice.
And then, shortly after the wedding, Simon stepped into Ryan's office and suggested they go home for lunch. They'd done this a few times before, when work was a little slow and Simon was feeling frisky, but Ryan didn't see that secret gleam in the other man's eye this time. He said nothing on the quick Tube ride, or in the elevator, and Ryan grew more nervous in the silence. Simon poured them each a drink, and sat them down on the couch. If he weren't so sure of Simon, especially lately, Ryan would have thought he was about to get the heave-ho. He sipped his scotch, and waited.
Simon stood up and started pacing. "Remember last month, when you said that I'd have to figure it out for myself?" he asked.
"Yes," Ryan said. "I also said I already think you're brave."
He smiled a little at that. "Thank you. Well, I thought about that, about what you've said, and what you've done, and what kind of man I want to be, and then I started talking to Nigel."
"Okay," Ryan said.
"And we talked about what I could bring to the war effort, especially now that British troops are moving overseas, to North Africa and Burma and what not. So I made a proposal to the Army, and they've accepted."
"A proposal to do what?" Ryan asked.
"Oh, sorry. To put together a little company, to tour around the bases, bring the troops a bit of entertainment and take their minds off things. I mean, by now I know nearly all the show people in London, and we've already lived through such danger here, what's a little more?"
"Right, sure," Ryan said. He felt—well, he didn't really feel anything at all, which was strange. "So how long have you been working on this?"
"I haven't—I just got the go ahead from the Army this morning. Nigel wants to do some broadcasts on the Armed Forces stations as well, real morale builder. But he's the only other person who knows. I didn't want to tell you in case it didn't go through, but now it has, and I'm telling you."
"When are you to leave?" Ryan asked.
"The goal is to be able to tour around Christmas time," Simon replied.
Ryan nodded. "So that's why you couldn't say yes or no to coming to the States."
Simon sat down next to Ryan. "If it hadn't gone through, I would have been very happy to go. And I'm still—Ryan, I'm still pleased that you asked me to come with you. I'm sorry, now, that it will have to wait until this war is over."
Ryan took Simon's hand in his own, and tried to work out how he was feeling. "I'm damn proud of you, Simon," he said, his voice wavering a bit. He cleared his throat. "Won't be the same without you."
Simon sat back a little, looking at Ryan. "I'm not leaving you, you know. You can't get rid of me that easily. I just have to do this."
"I understand," Ryan said. "Believe me, I do. Just let me be good and selfish for the next month, to get it out of my system, and by the time you go, I'll be fine." He smiled. "Now I know how you felt when I wanted to go to Paris."
"No," Simon said. "You're taking it much better than I did. And don't think I don't know that as soon as you Americans come into the fight, you'll be off for who-knows-where."
"How's your letter writing?" Ryan asked.
"Terrible!" Simon replied. "Ask Mother. But how could I not write to you?"
"You'd better," Ryan said, "or I'll come find you."
"I believe that," Simon said.
25 November 1940
It didn't seem quite right to Amanda to be getting dressed for her wedding in the same room as Carly. Ever since Blake made his suggestion, Amanda had thought of the wedding as her getting married to Carly. But of course that wasn't true. And as much as she wished she could have worn her snazzy tuxedo—now safely in storage with Simon Cowell—Chris noted that then Blake would have worn a dress, and no one wanted that.
Clothing coupons had been saved so that all three girls could have new dresses, though they of course couldn't have ivory satin. Amanda could have worn her dress uniform, but opted instead for a pretty new dress in deep red, as it would please Carly more. Carly was in blue, of course, and Kim in violet. Amanda hadn't slept with curlers for years, and had had to borrow some from her bunkmates. But now, after Kelly had brushed her hair out, Amanda saw the same girl in the mirror she'd seen before her coming out ball eight years ago. She felt the same nerves, the same comfort that Chris stood just outside that door, and she thought about what Carly had said, that they were all four of them together. Odd, that it was the most unconventional part of this which could bring them, full circle, back to some kind of conventional arrangement.
But Amanda would much rather look at Carly anyhow, in her smart blue dress, long black hair in deep waves like a movie star, like that first night at the club. Carly-the-glamour-girl and Carly-the-working-lady had long since melded in Amanda's mind, so that she could see the beauty even when Carly reined it in with professional suits and sensible shoes, and she was still a little ashamed to think of how superficial she had been, and how lucky she was that Carly had knocked her out of it. Well, Carly, and Chris, and Blake, and that was the whole point.
She stood and shook to get any last minute wrinkles out of her skirt, and looked over at the others. "Oh Kim," she said, "you look lovely."
Kim smiled, and stood herself. "That's quite a compliment!" she replied. "Not just from a lady such as yourself, but also because you took your eyes off Carly long enough to look at me."
Amanda blushed. "Well, I—"
"That's all right," Carly said, walking up to her. "I think we can spare Kim a glance. After all, it is her wedding day." She took Amanda's hand. "And ours."
"How about that," Amanda said, squeezing Carly's hand.
Simon adored women, really he did, but he did not need to be in a room where they were dressing and primping and otherwise carrying on. It was enough to admire and comment upon the results. After all, he'd already seen the dresses. So he went into the small room where the grooms awaited, along with Joel and George and a few other airmen, who were all in their dress uniforms, complete with swords.
Robinson came toward him. "Mr. Cowell—"
"Simon!"
Robinson smiled. "Simon, thank you so much for coming. I know it means a lot to Kimberley."
Simon shook his hand. "You're getting quite a girl there."
"Oh, he knows," Lewis said, walking up behind him.
Simon turned and regarded Lewis and Richardson for a moment. Richardson still leaned on a cane, his lower leg in a cast, but at least he was now upright. "I hope you two know what you're doing," he said.
"We do, sir," Richardson replied, standing up just a bit straighter.
Simon nodded, his eyes narrowed, but said no more. Instead he asked, "So I hear the Yanks are being recalled?"
Cook threw up his hands. "I spend over a year turning this squadron into a well-oiled machine, and now the US Army Air Corps is calling them home and I'm getting raw recruits who spent two weeks flying around over Toronto before heading over here. Of course, they're Canadian, so they've got an advantage—"
"Hey!" Lewis protested.
"—But that's war, I suppose," Cook continued. "The new ones should be here in the next day or so, and then the Americans will be leaving. Probably almost as soon as this lot gets back from their honeymoon."
"Amanda's furious," Richardson said. "She's sure to be stateside—the Army won't send her anywhere near the action—so she's stuck training mechanics." He shrugged. "They woulda sent me home anyway," he said, "with this leg and all. But we're hoping they'll let me train at least. Not that there's much to train with; most of the planes are over here."
"I'm sure once you Americans get started we'll have more planes than we know what to do with," Simon replied. "I just hope it's soon."
Ryan came into the room then. "The ladies are ready," he said, "if you are."
"Brother, we've been ready!" Blake said, and the men walked into the chapel, the grooms taking their place at the front, the guests moving into the pews. George sat at the upright piano and began to play something Simon didn't recognize, and he leaned toward Ryan, who answered before he could ask, "It's a spiritual." Jen, Kat and Kelly were standing nearby, and began to sing: Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you!
The three brides came in then, Kim first with Carly and Amanda close behind. Robinson's grin threatened to split his face in two, and Simon noticed that Lewis and Richardson greeted their brides with genuine affection; their bizarre scheme just might work. Sligh presided over the simple ceremony; vows and rings were exchanged with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of happiness, with kisses to follow. Then George stood and invited them all to sing along with the processional song. That was the cue for the other pilots of Squadron 11, as well as Captain Johns, to walk over to the doorway of the chapel and make an arch with their swords, traditional for an RAF wedding.
Jen started them off: I stood on the river of Jordan, to see that ship comin' over, I stood on the river of Jordan to see that ship sail by! Some of the folks in the crowd, including Ryan, joined in at the chorus. The couples were all singing and smiling as they walked down the aisle and under the arch, and the glimpses Simon got of the voices of the three pilots made his ears perk up. O moaner don't you weep when you see that ship come sailin' over, shout, glory hallelujah, when you see that ship sail by!.
For Kim, the reception was like being on a merry-go-round, her head was spinning so. All of her favorite people in England were there, and Mandisa had insisted on making the wedding lunch herself, coming out to the base early in the day to get cooking. Gina and Haley helped her, Kim supposed to make up for that incident at Simon's party, though all had long since been forgiven; they were good girls who just let a bad situation get out of hand. So much had happened in the last year, and somehow out of all of it, she'd got Anwar, and she was still pinching herself over it.
Her groom turned to look at her. "Can't quite believe it?"
She shook her head.
He kissed her temple and hugged her close. "It'll be all right tonight," he said, "when we're alone."
After their meal, they all went up to cut the cake with the swords, which Kim found a bit unwieldy for that purpose. There was no silliness with the cake, though Kim suspected that was only because Amanda had threatened bodily harm to Blake should he try anything. Blake believed her, to his credit, and Kim thought that was probably a good start to their married life.
Being a bride, she found herself dancing mostly with men other than her new husband: Randy first, then Simon, Ryan, George, Robinson's buddy Rogers, Lt. Cook, even Capt. Johns. At one point they sang one of their numbers again, the three girls with George on the piano, and when they were done and realized they'd likely never sing like that again, they hugged each other close. It was odd to think this part of her life was finished, but she suspected that helping Jen and George with their act would keep her happy.
And every time she looked for him, there was Anwar, smiling down on her like she was the brightest thing in the room.
There were pictures aplenty, of the three couples, of the brides and the grooms, of all of them with various groups of friends, people drinking toasts to the King, to the Air Force, to President Roosevelt, to the newlyweds, to absent friends. And then they were headed back to the train, back into London, the airmen with precious 48-hour passes. Their friends joined them in the rail car, and there was more champagne and merry making.
Their wedding present from Simon, Ryan and Randy was a three-bedroom suite in the corner of an imposing West End hotel. Jen, George, Simon and Ryan joined them for one last cocktail in a lounge full of ornate Victorian furnishings. It wasn't the sort of place she would have expected to stay in, in the States at least, and she wasn't sure if she had Anwar's uniform or Simon's money and connections to thank for there being no trouble about a few colored people on the premises. But at the moment, she really didn't care.
The rooms were as beautiful as the cocktail lounge had been, three large bedrooms with their own bathrooms opening into a common living room. They wandered around, looking out the windows though there was little to see as the city was dark. Kim found a sealed envelope on the table, and read the note inside to the others: "Dear honeymooners, Given that you likely won't be inclined to leave your room in the next little while, we've arranged for food and drink to be delivered to you at regular intervals and placed just outside the door. So there's no need to worry about sustenance, or to hide any unconventional sleeping arrangements." She stopped then, and smiled at Carly. "I think your boss wrote this note."
"Oh, I know he did," she replied.
Kim continued: "Have a lovely time with no worries. Much love from your friends, Simon, Ryan and Randy."
"See," Carly said, "he even gave himself top billing."
"Well, I don't know about you folks," Blake said, "but I'm ready for my honeymoon to start!" He scooped Amanda into his arms and she whooped in surprise as he carried her over the threshold of one of the bedrooms and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed. "All right, wife," he said, starting to take off his shirt, "let's see those—"
"Blake!" Chris shouted. "Honestly!" As the others watched, Chris set his cane against the wall, pulled Carly into his arms, and limped into the bedroom to deposit her gently on the bed. Blake and Amanda had left their room and were peeking around the corner of the door. Chris put his hands on his hips. "See? That's how a gentleman does things."
Anwar shook his head. "Shall we?" he asked Kim, who nodded. She didn't think it would be graceful—after all, she was no delicate thing—but he swept her up easily, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he walked through the doorway of the bedroom. He turned and smiled at the others, and then kicked the door shut behind them with his foot. "I don't know what those four will be doing on this honeymoon," he said, "but we need some privacy." He smiled down at her, and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Kim smiled back. All she could think was how relieved she was that they'd already spent a night together before now—she was glad she'd waited for him, but equally glad she hadn't waited for now, or her nerves might have gotten to her in a strange bed after a long emotional day. She sat up and watched him.
"All right, wifey," he said, "let's see—" He paused, biting his lip, and Kim thought he might have been blushing.
She giggled, even though she really didn't want to laugh at her new husband for not being able to go through with his joke. (Husband!) "You can't say it, can you?"
He hung his head, shaking it.
"Come here," she said, unbuttoning her dress. "I'll show them to you anyway."
Robinson kicked their bedroom door shut, rather emphatically Amanda thought, and the four of them looked at each other.
"Since you put it that way," Blake said.
Carly got up and came to the doorway where the other three were and they stood, staring at each other, nervous again. She smiled, then walked over to Blake and kissed him. She kissed her new husband, then turned and walked back into the bedroom.
Blake stood for a minute, blinking, then followed her example, giving his wife a kiss and going into the other bedroom.
Amanda turned to Chris, who pulled her into a hug.
"Damn, I can't believe we did this," Chris said.
"Me neither," Amanda replied. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." He let her go. "Well."
"Yeah." She patted him on the shoulder. "Married."
Chris looked down at his ring, then into his bedroom at Blake. "Married," he said, and smiled.
Amanda walked into the room with Carly, and shut the door behind her.
"Anwar?"
"Hmm?"
"Two questions."
"Ask away," he said, kissing the top of her head.
"Which Austen heroine am I?"
He chuckled, and she could feel his chest rising and falling under her. "You've been thinking about that all this time?"
"You might as well know right now, I don't let anything go."
"That's all right," he said. "Well, to be honest, at the time I meant that you were Elinor Dashwood, but I've since changed my mind."
"Oh? To what?"
"Well, watching you at Simon's party, and with Katharine later, I realized that you're Anne Eliot. You took care of things so well, Kim. It's admirable."
"Well!" Kim said. "I never would have guessed that."
"So, you had another question?"
"Yes. How do I rate against all those white girls?"
"What?"
Kim rolled over on her side, and leaned her head on her hand. "Amanda tells this story about how someone was giving you trouble on the base, about wanting white girls, and you said you didn't know what the fuss was about because they weren't much different."
"Oh," he said. "That was a lie."
Kim's eyes flew open. "You were lying?"
"I figured it was the best way to get Hicks's goat." Anwar shook his head. "What a zero that guy is."
"Troublemaker," she said, poking him in the chest.
"Naw, not me! Him! And he deserved it!" He sat up on his elbows. "I am not ashamed to say, Miss Locke, that I have only been with you. So I can't compare you to anyone."
Kim smiled. "Well, I've only been with you, too. And," she continued, wiggling her left hand, "I'm not Miss Locke anymore."
"How could I forget? Well, Mrs. Robinson, let's see what kind of trouble we can make."
27 November 1940
Forty-eight hours had a funny way of vanishing when you weren't looking; now they were on a train platform, and who knew when they'd see each other again. They were all headed stateside shortly—Kim and Carly in a few days, the airmen soon after. But of course, no one knew where the airmen would be once they returned to the States, or when they would be leaving again. And Atlantic crossings were still dangerous, even in American ships.
They sat crowded around a bench in the station, Kim and Anwar just slightly apart from the other four. Carly and Amanda sat on their husbands' laps, their bodies hiding who was really holding hands with whom. Amanda felt cozy, with Blake's strong arm around her waist, a leg entwined with Chris, Carly's soft hand in hers. "I feel like we just got away with something," she said.
"Don't think we didn't," Carly replied, looking at her ring.
"You girls keep going on about it," Chris said, "and Blake's head will get even bigger than it is now."
Blake looked over to Anwar. "You know who we forgot to drink a toast to? Lt. Cook."
Anwar smiled. "Good man, that Cook," he said. "We'll buy him a drink tonight instead."
As if on cue, the whistle sounded, and they stood, the boys grabbing their bags and Amanda's and heading down the platform toward the RAF car on the train. The three girls walked arm in arm, Amanda in the middle, and when they got to the compartment door she hugged Kim close, kissing her on the lips and whispering in her ear, "Take care of my girl, you hear?"
"You know I will," Kim said, hugging back.
She turned to Carly then, willing herself not to cry, trying not to linger in the kiss. "I'll always be your girl," she said.
"And I'm yours," Carly replied, then pulled back and put her hands on Amanda's face. "All right, off with you."
Amanda nodded, then let Blake help her up into the carriage. She watched as Blake said his goodbyes to the other two girls, and Chris hugged Kim. When he kissed Carly, it was almost like Amanda was kissing her, herself, as though Chris was her proxy, as he had been so many times this past year, and would be in the future. Seeing Robinson with Kim—finally!—was lovely too, as he held her close and kissed her for all he was worth.
The whistle sounded again, and Blake leaned out of the carriage. "Hey!" he shouted. "Honeymoon's over!"
They laughed, and Chris climbed into the door, Robinson behind him. As the train pulled away, the four of them leaned out the windows, waving to Kim and Carly as long as they could see them. When they sat back down again, Amanda was next to Blake on the seat, facing Chris and Robinson. Blake put his arm around her, tucking her head onto his shoulder. "Go ahead, sweetheart," he whispered. "You cry for all of us."
And so she did.
1 December 1940
Kim looked around at the bare walls of the room she'd shared with Jen and Kat for the past year. All their belongings were packed; Kelly and Tamyra were to move in that night. Randy had decided on continuing with just two lead singers, with more small moments for the various dancers, which made him very popular among the company. The new choreographer, Mary, brought some dancers with her from the states to fill the ranks. Mrs. Studdard had made them breakfast in the kitchen, though it was closer to lunchtime by the time they woke up, as there had been a going away party at the after-hours club after their final show the night before.
She pulled her wedding photo out of her bag, staring at it again, the six of them all together. It had all happened so quickly it felt unreal—proposed to, married within a month, and now he was gone, likely for the duration. When she and Anwar were together, Kat and Daughtry had always been their companions, and she'd resented how her love had to be hidden in comparison to theirs. But now she could see how open they really had been during what could only be referred to as their courtship, compared to how carefully the other two couples hid theirs. Cleverly, too, as no observer would think the marriages were a sham, devised to keep them together and allow Carly to emigrate to the states with all the rights of a war bride. And yet after watching the four of them interact, Kim wondered if it really mattered whose names were on which marriage certificate, after all.
"Don't be sad," Kat said as she came into the room. "New beginnings! And you and Jen will be close to each other."
"You'll write often, won't you?" Kim said, taking her hand. "Let us know how it's going?"
"Of course!" she replied. "Other than my parents I don't have many other people to write, and they aren't enthusiastic about the girl they sent to Catholic school going off to work with a rabbi!" She laughed. "But it's the right thing to do."
Chik Easy and EJ came in then to fetch their trunks, Corey Clark just behind them; the three would bring Carly and Kim's belongings to the station, and Kat's to the old settlement house Rabbi Yamin used as his headquarters. The Smith boys had remained scarce after Jen threw them over, and Kim didn't blame them; too many memories for them in this room, she suspected. The girls were leaving their costumes behind, of course, though Randy had insisted they keep the fezzes as a keepsake.
Kim was surprised to see Ryan and Simon in the sitting room, Carly with them.
"Of course we're taking you to tea," Simon said. "A very smart ladies' tea, hats and gloves and all that. How else would you say goodbye to London?"
It was fun, too, sitting at the table, the six of them, and Kim could see her new life in front of her even as the old one was receding. There was tea in pretty little china cups—and living with Carly, she knew she'd continue to drink tea, even if they had to scrounge to find something drinkable—and tiny sandwiches of ham and cucumber, and pastries and scones. She'd got used to the meat pies, the mushy peas, even the warm pints of beer. They'd have to return, she and Anwar, for their children must see this.
"Now, Ryan and I are relying on you both to send us many letters so we don't get too lonely," Simon was saying. He smiled at Ryan, and Kim sensed them all filling in, "for each other" at the end of his sentence.
"Of course we will," Kat said. "I think we'll all be living on letters through this war."
"How long will you be in London, Ryan?" Jen asked.
"Until we come into the war, I expect," he said, "and possibly after that, since I've been here, I have contacts here, and whatever we do to regain Europe would happen from here. Besides," he said, "Simon won't be gone the entire time." He smiled across the table. "But in the meantime, we're going home to Los Angeles for Christmas."
"My goodness!" Kat said. "I'd almost forgot Christmas was coming. Although I suppose I won't be celebrating it much, being with Jews and all."
"I'm sure you'll find a way," Jen said. "And it's the spirit that counts, anyway."
George met them at the station, with a bundle of food from Mrs. Studdard, biscuits and ham and cheese, and Randy was there, too. Simon was the last to embrace Kim, and he put a flat package in her hands. "I know we've had our ups and downs, Miss Locke," he said, "but aside from the professional, I just wanted to say how impressed I am, and always have been, with your poise and common sense. The performing world's loss, but the legal world's gain, I'm very sure."
Kim grinned widely. "Why, thank you Simon. Thank you so much. Now, you take care of yourself and your man over there."
Simon looked over at Ryan, who was talking to Carly, and smiled. "I will. And you keep watch over Carly for me? Make sure she wears her galoshes and all that."
"Of course."
"Right. I'll see you soon," he replied, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and helped her up into the carriage.
Kim waited to open her package until they were well underway to Southampton. Carly had her own package—a book and some technical tools. Jen and Kim's packages looked the same, and when they opened them, they found reel-to-reel tapes with all the recordings each of them had made for Simon's show; Kim suspected he'd done the same for Kat as well. Jen showed her Simon's inscription to her—"You have always made a joyful noise"—and said, smiling, "I bet Ryan told him to write that."
On the inside cover of Kim's, Simon had written:
To Kimberley,
Please don't stop singing entirely.
With great respect and affection,
Simon Cowell.
"Well," Kim said, blinking back tears, "don't that beat all."
14 December 1940
The British Army moved against the Italians in North Africa, pushing them back from the Egyptian border across Libya. Simon had a week from the time he got the call; he'd be landing in Egypt with the Australian forces. He and his troupe would be well behind the lines, but still, this was war.
Simon had decided to pack up his flat and put everything in storage at his mother's house for the duration. There were still occasional attacks in London, and he'd rather just not worry about it. By December he was living out of a small bag in Ryan and Joel's flat and working long hours putting together the traveling company; the only revue he didn't poach from was Randy's, and that was mostly because it was cast with Americans.
Ryan rearranged his schedule to spend as much time with Simon as possible before he left. On his final night, they went out to dinner with Randy, Joel and small David. Nothing fancy; they gathered at Simon's local, the first place he'd ever taken Ryan, and then they went to the Pyramid to see the new revue, where Simon pronounced Kelly and Tamyra "fantastic." After the show, Joel and David said they were going to bunk elsewhere to give Ryan and Simon some privacy but Ryan said he wanted them there, so they all headed back to Ryan and Joel's flat.
In the morning, Simon put on his new uniform, crisp and sharp. "You look very handsome," Ryan said, standing behind him and looking at him in the mirror. "Very much the dashing hero."
"Nah," Simon said, meeting Ryan's eyes. "I'm too old for that."
The four of them had pancakes for breakfast, and everyone was as merry as possible, grinning and laughing and enjoying two week's worth of butter and sugar all at once. Then Simon looked up at the clock and said, casually, "Well, I have a train to catch."
Joel stood and shook Simon's hand. "It's been a pleasure."
Simon smiled. "Same here. You'll look after him, won't you?"
"Of course. Always do." He put the back of his hand to his mouth, as if hiding his words from Ryan. "And if he steps out on you, I'll take care of it."
Simon giggled. "Well, ah, I don't know if your wife's permission still applies, but …"
Joel held up a hand. "No, no." He looked down at Ryan and smiled. "We just weren't meant to be."
"I kept trying to tell you that," Ryan replied.
"Besides," Joel went on, "I've had my man-of-the-war."
Simon rolled his eyes at Joel as he pulled small David into a hug. "I don't want to see you in a uniform any time soon, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir," David said. "Thanks for everything, really."
"And keep writing to my mother. She gets lonely."
"I will," David said, chuckling.
"Right, well," Simon said, turning to Ryan. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Joel and David clearing the table and retreating to the kitchen.
"Just come back," Ryan said. He was looking Simon in the eye, unafraid, even though his green eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"If I have to move heaven and earth," Simon replied. "And you, don't take any unnecessary chances, hear me?"
One corner of Ryan's mouth drew up. "I won't. I'm not looking for anything now, you know?"
"Yeah," Simon whispered. "Yeah, I do." He pulled Ryan into a kiss, one of those long kisses, burning all of it into his memory and Ryan's. "I love you."
Ryan nodded. "I love you too."
Simon picked up his duffel and put on his cap. He didn't trust himself to say more, but just nodded at Ryan and went out the door, rushing downstairs to find a cab. As they loaded his duffel into the car, the cabbie said, "That for you, sir?"
"What?" Simon asked. The cabbie was pointing at Ryan's window, where a hand waved a white handkerchief. Simon leaned his head back and laughed, long and hard, and saluted Ryan before hopping into the cab.
"Paddington," he said. He reached into his shoulder bag to check his itinerary, and discovered an additional envelope. Inside was a picture of him, Ryan, Paula and Randy at Paula's wedding, along with a letter on Ryan's stationery:
Darling,
Since we can't write any love letters while the war is on, I'll put it down now, and you can fill in my future letters with these words, such as: I never loved a man at all before I loved you. …
Simon wiped away the few tears that spilled down his cheeks. This was a letter best read when alone; later tonight, perhaps, when trains and ships and duty were taking him miles away from London, from Ryan, from home.
Ryan went into the bedroom to tidy it up—anything to keep from thinking too much—and noticed an envelope sticking out of his copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls. Surprised, he opened it to find a picture from Paula's wedding and a letter in Simon's hand:
Darling,
I've never written a love letter before, and the advice I got was about needing the right kind of pen. But I think it's likely more about needing the right kind of man. …
Ryan went out into the main room. "Joel?" he asked.
"Yeah?" Joel replied, poking his head out of the kitchen.
He waved the envelope. "Did you—did you tell Simon to do this, as well as telling me?" Ryan asked.
"Oh," Joel said. "Well, I just figured, you couldn't write a real letter to him with the censors reading all your mail, right? And let me tell you, a man needs letters like that when he's alone. And I had the picture—I didn't think anyone else would know, looking at it. But you would."
Ryan looked down and shook his head. "I've been trying so hard not to—"
Joel walked over to Ryan and hugged him, motioning to David to do the same. "It's okay," he said, rubbing Ryan's head. "You're with family now."
Ryan felt the tears flow, and relaxed against the other two men. "Damn this war," he whispered.
Epilogue
Notes:
Now, Voyager (dir.) is a melodrama starring Bette Davis and Charles Boyer.
Hitler postponed the planned invasion of Britain—Operation Barbarossa—in late October 1940, and the bombings decreased in early November. But they didn't stop entirely—a bombing on 14 November destroyed Coventry Cathedral, and a major raid on 28 December damaged St. Paul's—and Hitler didn't completely give up on Barbarossa until February 1941.
In early December, British troops landed in north Africa to start a campaign against the Italians, who held Libya and had attacked Egypt. Those are the troops Simon will be entertaining.
All of the details of the American pilots in Britain have been changed for the purposes of this story—more on that in the commentary—which includes their recall in the fall of 1940, though I anchored that timing to the commencement of the draft in the United States.
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 05:44 pm (UTC)Please write more ... :)
no subject
Date: 2009-05-14 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:07 pm (UTC)I've really enjoyed reading this fic. I *still* haven't watched American Idol (not even once! ok, well I may or may not have watched an Adam Lambert performance on youtube recently, seeing as how all of fandom is freaking out about him right now. I suppose I'm proof that you don't need to have knowledge of the people IRL to enjoy a well-craftd fic. I love how these modern people seamlessly fit into a historically believable past.
There's something restrained (?) about your writing that I think allows the characters and situations to shine through, doesn't crowd them. Maybe it's a lack of gratuitous adjectives. :) But I also think this style of writing fits in well with the cool restrained vibe of your war-era setting and the Jazz scene, etc., and adds something to the authentic feel of the time period.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-21 08:25 pm (UTC)I'm pleased that the setting and the characters worked for you! That's probably the thing I worked on and angsted over the most. My writing style is pretty understated, so I'm glad that suited the mood of the piece.
Again, thank you so much! yay!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 06:20 pm (UTC)Also, yay Kat. I love that she's going to work with the rabbi. And that she had a change of heart about Simon and Ryan while still calling gay people queers.
Also, did I mention I love Brooke doing costumes? I picture her down there creating the hippie look a few decades early.
Small David proposing to a girl. Ha! I feel like he ought to have just given her a doorknob like Tom Sawyer.
I love the triple wedding, especially because it's always so funny when you read about people at that time and realize that stuff like this totally did happen. People arranged their lives the way they wanted to live.
Of course Robinson was lying about the white girls not being different. He wouldn't be that cavalier with any girl. Taylor is a tool.
Did Simon just invent the USO? Because he totally would too!
I don't know which note makes me more teary. Ryan's to Simon or Simon's too Kim. Yay!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-21 08:29 pm (UTC)You know, I think he sort of did, though there was that whole bit in Til We Meet Again when the mother is young and is touring WWI battlefields giving shows. So I'm sure it happened, just not in an organized fashion.
Yay! I'm glad you liked it, as this was the next-to-most emotional part!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 11:26 pm (UTC)And again I had to blink back tears, Ryan and Simon´s goodbye was so sad somehow, despite the fact that they were doing what they had to do. The sense of hope was wonderful, especially for our happy couples. Kimberley and Anwar continue to just melt my heart, they are so sweet.
Amazing!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-21 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-09 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-21 08:33 pm (UTC)