Prologue

The war. Devastation. Mass destruction. Death. Men fought, slaughtering, taking the lives of their enemy. But for what? What good is war? What good has it ever been? Those men should have never died. Even those who made it to the end of the war died, maybe not physically, but mentally. War burns out that precious spark of light that shines bright in a man's heart. Never to reignite. Forever haunted by the death of their comrades, friends, their... brothers. The blank and cold emptiness on the faces of those who died still haunt their tired eyes as they try desperately to block out the image of war. They feel unimaginable guilt for the deaths they were responsible for. The roaring bellow of the guns still bouncing around their very souls never to leave. Never to let them live in peace. War never allowed us to escape. It never allowed anyone to escape.

April, 1939

I sat in my dressing room fixing my hair and applying my makeup. It was my first day at the rouge club. I had always dreamed of becoming a singer ever since I was a little girl. I used to live out in a little village in Wiltshire before moving to London just last year to pursue my dream. I would always sing and dance whilst tending to our animals and whilst helping out my mama when we'd make or family's famous blackberry pie that had been made famously in my family for generations. My family was never really poor; we didn't have piles of money either! But we were comfortable and my mama and papa always made sure that I was able to go to school because they knew that education was important. They used all their life savings so that I could go to school in New York for two years. I had a wonderful childhood; it was just the way it was supposed to be. I always aspired to move away and make money for my family so that my parents could relax and take a step back from all the hard work they do on the farm. I owed them that much. Now, now I was so close to achieving that for them. I had myself the job of my dreams...well it was a start. Even though Rouge Club was in fact a burlesque bar it was still a job. I wasn't myself a burlesque dancer but a singer and well tonight was my first night.

"Rose, darling" my boss Mr S. McDoughna waltzed into my dressing room. I drew my eyes away from the mirror to acknowledge my visitor. His big brown eyes were dazzling in the gentle candle light. He wore a great big gay grin on his dashingly handsome face. "I hope you are well my dear" he shifted cautiously over to me, hiding something behind his well clothed back. "You will go out there in just a few minutes. Here!" He draped a beautiful red gown over my lap. "This is your outfit for tonight my little sugar"

I stood up slowly and clutched the beautiful garment to my body. My eyes must have given away my excitement. "It is just simply beautiful isn't it, Rose dear" I stood speechless. McDoughna searched my lips for any sign of speech.

"Thank you, sir. I don't think I have ever seen anything so pretty in all my life" I finally said.

The dress was a perfect fit. It hugged my curves just right. It swished down like a waterfall from my hips right to the floor. Not only did McDoughna present me with this gorgeous dress but also a pearl necklace. I didn't know for sure if it was real or not but the truth is I didn't care. I felt so expensive for the first time in my life. I stared at the person in the mirror for a long while. It didn't look
like me. I was the little country girl who milked cows and tended to the chickens. This girl was a lady. Royalty even. When I applied for this job I wasn't really expecting much from it. I thought that it would just be like any other low budget bar with some 'exotic' dancing and maybe a piano or two. I was so wrong. The Club was filled with expensive furniture, gold and red curtains and it even had its own large band. The dancers were dressed in little silver dresses...there wasn't any suspenders or fluffy slippers in sight. It was all very classy and sophisticated. If I hadn't been wearing this expensive dress I might have felt a little out of place but I didn't, I fitted right in.

...

My first night working at the club was perfect. I sung my heart out and it seemed to pay off because many of the men at the bar had said to me "You have the most beautiful voice" "You sing like an angel" "Your gifted talent is just as beautiful as your face". It felt wonderful to have so much praise all in one night. I just couldn't wait till next week.

May, 1939

It was a glorious spring afternoon. I and my new friend Maria from the club were socialising in a quant new coffee shop in central London.

"So, Rose. I heard you met a man last week at the club" Maria leaned over the oak coffee table attentively sipping her tea giving me the eyebrow to 'dish the gossip'. Well, let me explain. A week previous when I was working I met this guy. He was so perfect. It was kind of a love at first sight sort of thing. He has the most gorgeous soft blue eyes, golden brown hair and a smile to die for. Peter was his name. Peter. I just couldn't get him of my mind. I didn't think it was even possible to get on with someone as well as we did. So, one thing led to another and then and there I agreed to meet him the next week...which was tonight.

"Yes, you heard correctly" I replied blankly not giving anything away. Maria kicked me gently under the table.

"Miss Wilson" she said playfully, twirling her blonde curls and pouting her red stained lips "I demand you to talk to me about the hunky guy that you were talking to last week!"

I gave in. I explained everything. Maria was so demanding so I knew I would have to tell her eventually. That is probably how she gets loads of guys to take her out...she demands them to take her.

She insisted on giving me a makeover before I met him so just to please her I went ahead with it.

...

I stood in front of the mirror a while. My usual dark copper brown long curls were pinned up on my head in a complicated up-do. I gently ran my fingers across my lips and gazed at them. They were painted a deep red. My freckles were lightly faded buy a thin layer of make-up. Maria dressed me in a little black dress that had a little sash that finished at the back with a neat little bow. I didn't look like me. Like I said, I was never poor but never would I have been able to afford to look like this.

Once I was all ready to go I thanked Maria and she waved me off. I got a taxi to a small bar in Leicester square where we had chosen to meet. I paid the man and stood outside the bar gazing into the window desperately scanning the room to see if he was there. And he was. He was sat by the bar sipping a glass of whisky.

I slowly walked across the bar heading over to wear Peter was sat. The strong smell of liquor and sweat knocked me back the moment I entered. The bar was an unusual sight. Men were everywhere placing bets, drinking, gambling and swearing. It was only then that I realised I was the only female in the goddamn place. It didn't take the men long to notice that either.

"Alright my darling" a tall greasy man tugged at my dress "did you get lost?" he laughed deeply in a vulgar manner and downed a pint of beer, his mates cheered him on. He gazed up at me and a confused sort of angry look appeared on his face. I shuffled uncomfortably. "Ay! Love is you deaf?" He yanked at my dress harder forcing me to stumble.

"Let go of me, please!" I begged trying to get free from this great big man's paws. He slapped my leg gently and started laughing again with the same vulgar tone as before.

"Get your hands off me!" I said, I stared at him long and hard desperately trying to intimidate him even though I was only about a quarter of the size of him. My waist wasn't much bigger than his muscular arm.

"I was only kidding darlin'" he turned around on his chair and rejoined his mates in a game of cards.

I hated the place. Why would he bring me here? I stood blankly in the middle of the room scared out of my mind. How could he possibly like me? A man who wants to impress a girl would never bring her to a place like this! Although, I did like to smoke, play cards and drink beers just like the men here but not on a first date.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my back. I turned abruptly as the warm hand caressed my shoulder expecting to see that stupid greasy man again. I was ready to launch my fist into my capturers face but then I heard his voice...

"Rose" Peter greeted me with a smile "You look really pretty" he smiled even brighter as he approvingly looking me up and down. I suddenly forgot everything that had just happened. I unclenched my fists and my hands lay limp by my side. It didn't matter to me anymore because I was with him. I didn't even care that he had brought me to a place like this on our very first date! As long as I was with him.

...

"Hear" Peter brought two glasses of whisky over to our little booth by the window.

"Thank you"

His eyes were flickering perfectly in the candle light. He took a great big swig of his whisky and slammed the glass down on the table.

"This is the very best whisky" he picked up the glass again and brought it up to his noise took a deep sniff and exhaled in satisfaction "Smells just as good as it tastes! Try some"

I stared at the glass in front of me. Sure, I had drunk beer before and plenty of it but never any form of liquor. I clasped my hands around my glass and brought it up to me lips. Peter was smiling smugly probably expecting me to spit it out all over the table. But oh he did not know me. I took a large gulp. The liquid slid down my throat without a problem. Once I had consumed every last drop of whisky left in the glass I rested it back down on the table.

"Wow" Peter said. His cool blue eyes rolled down my body suggestively and back up to join my gaze "I didn't think such a pretty girl like you would know how to drink"

"Well, I'm not like most girls" a cheeky grin pricked up from the corner of my mouth.

"What do you think of the place?" he asked as he slumped down into his seat putting his arms behind his head.

"Uh...yes, it's a nice place." I stared at him hoping he had taken the bait. He raised his eyebrow. He wasn't convinced. Before he could say anything I rushed in to starting up the conversation.

"Do you-."

"So, do you come here often?"

He sat up straight and lent over the table starring deep into my eyes and spoke softly and quietly. "Truth is, yes I do. I know it's just filled with low lives but it is the only place that I can find this whisky" he raised his glass gesturing to the whisky "I wouldn't dream of coming to a place like this otherwise" he slumped back in his seat again and blew air out of his noise, and a huge grin appeared on his gorgeous face. So what if he was a little snobby...right?

"I see" I smiled trying not to give away the fact that my mind was screaming ALCOHOLIC!

Regardless of the constant shouting, belching and swearing from the other men in the bar I really enjoyed my night with Peter; so what he might have been rich and snobby but he made me laugh and to me that is important in a guy. I mean as long as he made you smile not much matters, right?

...

At the end of the night Peter called us a cab and he walked me home to my little flat.

"Thank you, I had a really good night" I stared longingly at his perfect shaped lips. I wanted to kiss him.

"You are very welcome, Rose" He placed my hands in his and gazed into my eyes. "You are so beautiful, Rose" he leant in slowly and kissed me softly on the lips. His warm moist lips slowly started to trail down my neck. Heaven. I could feel his warm breath on me. He smelt like whisky, tobacco and mince pies. His sweet sent intoxicated my breath. I was so wrapped up in bliss that I didn't realise that he was tickling my neck until it was too late. I giggled loudly and he pulled away. "What is it?" he asked confused.

"Nothing" I said embarrassed. He chuckled lightly. "Goodnight, Peter"

"Goodnight, Rose"