Whistling in the Dark by Shirley Hughes Page A

self-consciously on the other side.
    The atmosphere relaxed slightly after the boys had tucked into the refreshments. Then the music started up and they all looked nervous again. It was up to the boys to ask the girls to dance. Imagine having to do that and then getting turned down, thought Joan.
    Mind you, it was equally daunting being a girl. What if no boy wanted to dance with you? There was no worse fate than to be stranded as a wallflower, waiting in vain to be invited onto the dance floor. Better to dance with another girl.
    Some boys flunked the whole thing from the outset. This included Ross and Derek, who somehow managed to melt into the background and finish up what was left of the tea. Brian, on the other hand − to Joan’s utter astonishment − strode purposefully across the room and invited a redhead called Joyce Barber to dance. After grasping her firmly, he steered her along in fairly good time to the music, and even negotiated the corner with a nifty reverse turn. Where on earth did he learn to do that? thought Joan. And in front of all these people, teachers included? She had never seen him at any of the youth-club hops. Clearly he had hidden depths that none of the family knew about.
    Doreen, in spite of all her grumbling beforehand, had no shortage of partners. She chatted happily as she quickstepped up and down, watched with some envy by Angela Travis, who was lurking among her cronies at the far end of the hall. No one had invited her to dance, despite her new dress.
    Joan glanced around to see if she could spot David. He was chatting to a group of friends, but when he saw her, he waved and came over. “You know I’m not good at this kind of thing,” he said. “But are you game to risk it for once?”
    He put his arm around her waist, took her right hand in his in the approved manner, then they set off down the hall. He certainly wasn’t a good dancer, but Joan was too happy to care. She mustered all her skill to guide him around the floor without appearing too pushy. The music helped. It was a quickstep, so quite a few of the other dancers were falling over their own feet. David laughed a lot.
    “I never thought I’d manage that,” he said as at last they wound up, breathless, by the tea table. “Thanks a lot, Joan!”
    Joan felt that this whole event was working out far better than she had expected. Only Ania, standing alone, stiffly pressed up against the wall, paralysed with shyness, was a reminder of what an ordeal this kind of thing could be for some teenagers.
    One day, Joan thought, perhaps they’ll just play music and everyone will be able to get up and dance, whether anyone has asked them or not. Until then, she reflected, you could always follow Ross and Derek’s example and fall back on the refreshments.



CHAPTER 16
    T he event ended early, well before the air-raid sirens started. The boys melted away into the darkness on their bicycles, and most of the girls were met by a parent. Joan knew that Mum would not be able to manage this, as she was at home, putting Judy to bed. She looked around for someone to walk home with, but Brian seemed to have disappeared, and Doreen and David were seeing Ania back to Ashchurch Avenue. Mum hated Joan to be out alone in the blackout, but it was only a short distance home, and so she set out, walking at a brisk pace.
    It was dark now, and the overhanging trees in neighbouring front gardens cast dense shadows onto the pavement. There were, of course, no street lights, and all the houses already had their blackout curtains carefully drawn.
    Joan was nearly at her front gate when a figure suddenly stepped out of nowhere and stood right in front of her. It was a man wearing a cap pulled down well over his face.
    Joan stopped stock-still, ready to scream out at the top of her voice, but somehow no sound came. She tried to gather all her energy to run past him or to punch him in the stomach − anything to make those last few yards home. But the man