April 1939, Dublin
'It's alright, I was escaping too,'
The speaker was dark haired freckled girl wearing a red dress which was far too low cut to be entirely respectable and smoking furiously. She was sitting on the roof of the mansion, her hands around her knees.
'It's a shitty party isn't it?' she said conversationally.
He laughed with surprise, her voice was a American-Irish with just a note of an English aceent as well and slightly husky. She was very pretty and there was something else about her which made him want to linger.
'Indeed, can I trouble you for one of those?' he asked sitting down. She took the cigarette, popped it in her mouth and lit it.
'Sure,' she smiled, they smoked in silence for a while.
'So how do you know- oh what's her name again? With the teeth. Fiona?' she said
'She went to school with my sister,' he grimaced, 'which should have told me all I needed to know, how about you?'
'I don't, thank god- my aunt got me an invite,'
'She must have it in for you,'
The girl laughed 'I think she meant it to be kind, I've been in America since I was a kid and I don't know anyone in Dublin apart from about a thousand cousins, I wish I had gone to the pub with them now,'
'You can get a cocktail at the Sherborne hotel,' he said 'and they have a jazz band,'
'You had me at cocktails, I'll get my coat,' she grinned and extended a hand 'I'm Billie by the way, Billie Branson,'
'Oh- there are some Branson's near Cork are you one of those I don't think I've met you before,'
'Nah, I'm just me, and you are?'
'Hal,' he said, and taking her arm led her through the window.