The Girls At The Kingfisher Club - Plot & Excerpts
She had a moment of blank relief (police had a different meaning when she wasn’t in a dance hall, as though maybe she was being looked after by someone). Then she realized that her father might well have put the word out on them—a pack of hysterical women who had gotten free and needed rounding up. “Everything all right, miss?” She gave him her practiced dance-hall smile. “Yes, Officer. Just had a dustup with my fella. Cooling off for a minute before I head home.” He half-smiled. “In this weather that’ll be no trouble. But you’d better get moving before the sun goes down—this is a bad neighborhood after dark.” “Oh,” she said, “thank you.” She stood, and looked wistfully out at the water, and smoothed her skirt, until the cop had finally turned and walked out of sight. Then she walked the other way—slowly, not a care in the world—heading north, back uptown through the shops and the noise of Greenwich Village and the far-off skyscrapers she was getting a good look at for the first time in her life.
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