Anne Douglas (13 page)

‘It’s grand!’ cried Struan, seating himself in the driving seat. ‘Wow, what wouldn’t I give to have something like this?’

He was so happy even Lindy hadn’t the heart to tell him to move out, but in the end he leaped out himself, hurrying round to open the passenger door with a flourish and help his sister into her seat.

‘Wouldn’t have minded having a look at the engine,’ he muttered, ‘but better let you two get off, eh? Thanks, Rod, I appreciated that. See you again, eh?’

‘Certainly!’ cried Rod, starting his car with the handle, then jumping into the driving seat. ‘’Bye, Struan. Good to meet you.’

And with Struan waving and looking rather forlorn, Lindy and Rob left Scott Street in the little Morris on their first drive together.

‘Have you really got a picnic?’ Lindy asked. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Look on the back seat, then. See a shopping basket? That’s it.’

‘Rod, you’re a marvel!’

‘Only aim to please.’

‘I’m pleased, all right,’ said Lindy.

‘Oh, Rod, isn’t this grand?’ cried Lindy, her eyes shining, her face alive with excitement as they drove towards the centre of the city. ‘Everything looks different, eh? I mean, from a car? I’m only used to trams. Or my own two feet!’

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying being in my car, then,’ Rod said, taking pleasure in her delight. ‘But what we have to decide now is where you’d like to go.’

‘Go? Oh, anywhere! I don’t mind. What do you think, then?’

‘Well, we’re a bit limited, only having the afternoon.’ Rod hesitated. ‘I didn’t dare ask you to come out for the whole day.’

‘Why? I wouldn’t have minded. You should have said.’

‘I didn’t want to rush you, Lindy. I know it’s true, what you said – you’ve had a battering. And then your folks might not have been pleased about you spending the whole day with me.’

‘You don’t have to worry about my folks, Rod. I could tell Dad liked you and Aunt Myra’s all for you, now.’

‘Because I gave her flowers?’

Lindy was silent for a moment. ‘Because your name isn’t Neil,’ she said at last.

‘He was her favourite once, wasn’t he?’

‘That’s all over now. Listen, where are we going, then?’

‘I was thinking of North Berwick, but it might take too long. How about Aberlady? That’s on the way. Don’t know if you know it?’

‘No, I don’t remember it. I’ve been to North Berwick – just the once – on a school trip, so we must have passed it. Is it a village?’

‘Just a village now, with golf courses to hand, but it was a busy harbour once. The merchants used to export grain and wine, so there were always customs men around trying to catch smugglers avoiding paying the duty.’ Rod laughed. ‘My dad used to tell me stories that my grandfather had told him – he was a fisherman on this part of the coast, but he’s been dead for years. I never knew him.’

‘So your folks have always been to do with the sea?’

‘Yes, and you’re wondering why I’m different. I do love the sea, but I suppose I’ve just never wanted to spend my life on it. Which was a big disappointment to my dad, as I think I told you.’

‘And I told you that what you do is really worthwhile. You shouldn’t apologize because you didn’t go to sea, Rod.’

‘No, maybe not. Well, if we’ve decided on Aberlady, let’s make for the coast.’

‘Oh, I’m so lucky,’ she said quietly. ‘Being given a trip like this. Thank you, Rod.’

‘My pleasure, Lindy.’

Autumn sunshine was struggling through the cloud mass over Aberlady Bay when they arrived and left the car to walk on the shore. Here there were dunes and piled-up sand, mudflats and waving grasses, flocks of birds swooping and calling, and very few people. In the distance Lindy could only see two couples walking together and throwing sticks for three happy spaniels, which made her turn to Rod with a smile.

‘So nice, eh? We’ve practically got this place to ourselves. Very different from Portobello beach, where there’s never a place to put a pin sometimes.’

‘I know – it’s usually like this. So quiet, you can’t imagine all the activity of the old days. But you can still see the merchants’ granary inland, and there are a couple of small hotels, mainly for golfers.’

‘I think it’s beautiful.’ Lindy was breathing deeply. ‘Smell the air – so fresh, so clean! When you spend all your time in a city full of smoke, you forget what fresh air’s like. Sort of . . . unused.’

‘Suits you,’ Rod said softly, his eyes on the heightened colour of her face, the brightness of her eyes. ‘Why don’t you take your hat off?’

‘I think I will.’

She took off her hat and laughed as the breeze sent her dark hair whirling. ‘Come on, let’s walk and walk! I’ve got my sensible shoes on!’

‘And then have our picnic,’ said Rod, beginning to stride away. ‘I don’t know about you but I always want to eat my sandwiches the minute I’ve arrived.’

‘No sandwiches till we’ve been to that point in the distance, Rod. Have to earn them.’

Back from the point, they decided to have their picnic in the car, out of the breeze and the beady eyes of the gulls, Rod taking charge of opening the basket and displaying his efforts.

‘First, madam, the thermos. Do you mind that I’ve put up coffee? I never like thermos tea.’

‘Rod, anything you’ve done is all right by me. I’m just so amazed you did it.’

‘Well, you know I look after myself. Why should I not be able to produce a few sandwiches and a thermos of coffee?’

The ‘few sandwiches’ turned out to be what Lindy described as a feast. There were hard-boiled eggs, tomato and lettuce sandwiches, ham sandwiches, sausage rolls, biscuits with cheese, iced buns and small chocolate cakes, all served with paper plates and napkins, and all making Lindy’s eyes widen.

‘Rod, this is unbelievable! Honestly, it’s lovely. But so much! How are we going to eat it all? Just the two of us? There’s enough for an army.’

‘I suppose there does look to be rather a lot,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I got carried away. But don’t give me too much credit. Apart from the eggs and sandwiches it’s all bought – and for God’s sake, don’t tell your stepmother – from my local shop. I wanted it to be a surprise and you would have been wondering what on earth I was doing, buying all this stuff.’

‘Buying up the shop,’ Lindy laughed, her eyes meeting his. ‘Oh, Rod, you are so sweet, eh? Trying to make me forget my troubles, make me happy.’

‘And are you?’ he asked quietly. ‘Happy?’

‘I am. I think I really am.’

‘Maybe just for now?’

‘Who knows?’ Suddenly she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘Rod, thank you. For today, the picnic and everything.’

Putting his hand to his cheek, he looked away. ‘Like to pour the coffee? I’ve got two mugs somewhere.’

‘Think I’ll have something to eat first. But what shall it be? A boiled egg, maybe.’

‘There’s salt if you want it in a twist of paper in the basket.’

‘Oh, no!’ She laughed. ‘You think of everything, eh? Are you like this with everything you do?’

‘Only if I really care,’ he answered seriously, and then they were both silent, beginning to eat, to enjoy the picnic, and something more that neither of them would put into words.

It was dark when they arrived back at number nineteen and Rod, switching off the car engine, turned to look at Lindy. ‘Here we are, then, back home – at least, for you.’

In the light of the street lamp he could see her face, serious instead of smiling, her eyes, looking dark, fixed on him.

‘I’ve had such a grand day, Rod – I don’t know how to tell you – it’s been wonderful.’

‘For me, too.’ He took her hand. ‘Just wish it needn’t end, but I suppose they’ll be waiting for you.’ He smiled and shrugged. ‘Must keep your folks happy.’

‘Rod, you needn’t worry about them. They won’t be waiting for me yet.’

‘Maybe, but I want them to feel I’m a responsible guy, someone they can trust, and you have been out with me for quite some time.’ He smoothed her hand with his. ‘If we get it right this time we could have longer next time – that’s the way I see it.’

‘Honestly, Rod!’ For a moment Lindy’s lovely mouth tightened, then relaxed. ‘Oh, well, you’re probably right. They’ll be pleased you’ve brought me back safe and sound, as though I was a bit of china. No, I mean it, you’re right. But I did have such a grand time. I know what you mean about no’ wanting it to end.’

‘I haven’t – you know – tried to go too fast for you?’

‘Too fast? No, I’ve felt better today.’ Taking her hand from his, Lindy fiddled with the car door handle. ‘I haven’t thought of Neil at all.’

‘Why, Lindy, that’s terrific! Best news of all. Hang on there, I’ll come round and let you out. That handle’s stiff.’

On the pavement, under that same street lamp, they quietly embraced, then Rod kissed Lindy on the cheek, as she had kissed him.

‘I’ll come into the shop,’ he whispered. ‘To fix up when we can meet again. But, listen, do you want the rest of the picnic? There’s a lot left, I’ll never get through it.’

‘Oh, Rod, I was wondering if you’d let me have it. I’d like to give it to one of the families.’

‘Of course I’ll let you have it!’ He gave her the basket from the back of the car and they stood gazing at each other for several moments.

‘Goodnight, Lindy,’ Rod said at last. ‘Thanks for coming today.’

‘Goodnight, Rod. Thank you – for everything.’

At the door to number nineteen, she watched him return to his car and drive slowly away before she turned to go into the house – and was almost knocked down in the hall by a flying figure, running as though the furies were after him. It was Neil.

His face wasn’t his. Or, so it seemed at first to Lindy, staring at him in fright. Where was the handsome young man who’d been her friend? Replaced by a white-faced, wild-eyed stranger, who scarcely seemed able to take in that it was Lindy he’d almost sent crashing to the floor. Lindy, who’d only been able to save herself and Rod’s basket by the sheerest good luck.

‘Neil, what is it?’ she cried, holding him by the arm. ‘What’s happened? What’s wrong?’

‘Lindy?’ he murmured, gazing into her face as his own face worked with emotion, and he put a hand to his brow as though he must hold it to prop up his head. ‘Lindy, she’s up there – she’s fine; she says she isn’t and she’s crying, but she’s all right. She’s all right, Lindy, because she doesn’t care. She’s told me, she told me just now, and I’d brought flowers and a bottle of wine. I thought we were going to celebrate—’

‘Neil, is it Rosemary you’re talking about?’ Lindy was still holding on to his arm. ‘Is she really all right? You haven’t—’

‘Haven’t what?’ His wild eyes flamed. ‘Hurt her? God, no, I haven’t hurt her! I couldn’t, she doesn’t care, she’s told me, didn’t I say? Can’t you see? I’m the one that’s hurt!’

Flinging off Lindy’s hand, he flung himself away from her and shot through the door still as though chased by unknown forces, and though Lindy at once ran after him, the street was empty. He was nowhere to be seen.

Oh, God, what do I do now? Lindy asked herself, returning to the hall and standing still, her shaking hands still holding Rod’s basket. Take the picnic to Aggie, she decided, but then what? Then she must see Rosemary. See if she really was all right. Only she didn’t want to, didn’t want to at all.

Still shaking, she mounted the stairs to Aggie’s flat, hurrying past Rosemary’s in case she should appear, and knocked on the door.

‘Who is it?’ came Aggie’s voice over the sound of shrill crying. As usual, somebody wasn’t happy in the Andrews’ flat.

‘It’s only Lindy, Aggie. Come on, open up. I’ve got something for you.’

A moment later Aggie’s pale face appeared at the door while two of her children clung to her legs and a third, the one who was crying, kept up the wails in the background.

‘Will you shut up?’ thundered Tam’s voice. ‘Or I’ll give you something to cry about!’

‘He’s just teething, he canna help greetin’,’ Aggie whispered, her eyes going to the shopping basket in Lindy’s hand. ‘What was it you got for me, Lindy?’

‘I wondered if you’d like this picnic stuff we never finished, Aggie? There’s sandwiches and cheese things and some sausage rolls, iced buns – and look, little chocolate cakes. I think there’ll be enough for everybody.’

‘Let’s see, let’s see!’ cried young Alex and his sister, Matty. ‘Oh, Ma, see what’s in the basket! Oh, can we have ’em, can we have ’em?’

‘I want a choclit cake!’ squealed Matty. ‘Ma, can I, can I have a cholit cake? Can I?’

‘Wait, wait, I’ll have to see . . .’

Aggie’s eyes were enormous as she took the basket from Lindy and gazed at the contents. ‘Did you say it was a picnic, Lindy? Was it no’ too cold for a picnic? I dinna ken, because I’ve never been to one, eh? But it’s awful kind to give us all this. Are you sure you want to?’

‘Sure I do.’ Lindy pushed the basket into Aggie’s arms. ‘But I’ve got to go now. Be good, you bairns, eh?’

‘We’ll all say thank you!’ cried Aggie. ‘Thank you, Lindy!’

Waving her hand, Lindy skimmed away, anxious still not to see Rosemary, but there she was, outside her flat, waiting for Lindy on the stairs.

‘Lindy, can you spare me a minute?’ she asked, her voice shaky, very different from usual, just as Rosemary herself, like Neil, was different from usual. Though still as well dressed as ever, with her blonde hair as stylish, she looked as though she’d had a shock, something she couldn’t handle, could only shed tears over, for there were marks of them on her porcelain cheeks, and her eyes were red.

Well, of course, Lindy knew she’d had a shock and what it had been, but hadn’t expected tears. Not from Rosemary, who’d kept such a stiff upper lip over her family’s misfortunes, but here she was, wanting to talk, and it could only be about Neil. ‘Sorry,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’m just on my way home.’

‘Oh, please, Lindy! I must talk to you! I know now why you haven’t wanted to speak to me and I understand – I do, really, but I’d be so grateful if we could talk now.’ Rosemary’s eyes were pleading, filling again with tears, and Lindy, feeling she could do nothing else, sighed and knew she’d have to give in.

‘Just for a few minutes, then, but first, have you thought of speaking to Jemima? She’s always been a grand help to me.’