Anne Douglas (16 page)

‘Oh, the same,’ she said vaguely. ‘I don’t mind what I have.’

‘Nor do I,’ Rod chimed eagerly. ‘At least, not when it comes to puddings.’

They were quiet walking back to number nineteen, Lindy’s arm in Rod’s, as though so much had been settled they scarcely needed to speak. Reaching the door of the tenement, they halted and exchanged long glances, and then, quite naturally, a long, passionate kiss on the lips. Their first real kiss, they might have said, as they separated, not to be confused with those pecks on the cheek they’d exchanged before. Was it to be the first of many? Oh, yes. But for that first time, it was something so special, something they so much wanted to remember, they did not repeat it.

‘When can I see you again?’ Rod asked with sudden urgency. ‘I hope you’ll say soon. As soon as possible.’

‘All right,’ she said, laughing. ‘That’s what I’ll say. But we’ve both got jobs, eh? You know what my hours are.’

‘And mine,’ he groaned. ‘I love my work at the hostel but I’m so tied, it’s the devil’s own job to get the time off I want. How about Friday, though? Friday evening? Maybe we could go to the pictures?’

‘Oh, yes!’ she cried. ‘Friday, then. I’ll see what’s on. What do you fancy?’

‘Whatever suits you. I’ll come here, shall I? About seven?’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

They exchanged another long glance and almost embraced, but in the end just said goodnight. As Rod walked away, looking back and waving, Lindy blew him a kiss, then waved as he did before turning to go home.

If only she didn’t have to see Myra, or Struan or even her father, she thought. Didn’t have to say what sort of time she’d had, or what she’d had to eat, or when she was seeing Rod again. He was fast becoming her own special secret, not to be shared, yet had to be. What else could she do but talk about him to the family when she’d just been out with him? Sighing heavily, she opened the flat door.

‘Hello!’ she called. ‘I’m back!’

‘Had a good time?’ asked Myra.

‘Oh, yes! Wonderful time.’

And that was certainly true.

Things had changed for her, Lindy had said, over the dinner in the restaurant, and oh, how true that was, she realized afresh, when the grey days of November might have been summer because of her meetings with Rod. It was never easy to arrange being together, both having to work long hours and Rod, of course, having commitments to the hostel and the workhouses that must come first before any time off. Somehow they managed to meet, however, driving out in the evening darkness to the cinema or for a meal, coming home for rapturous goodnight kisses well away from number nineteen. And the more they met, the sweeter it seemed that, after all their earlier problems, now they had no problems at all. Were, in fact, as Rod had said, free.

Free? Well, not completely. Lindy still worried about Neil, but it was true what she’d told Rod – he was no longer part of her life, and though she would always care what happened to him, she was no longer responsible for his happiness. There was the difference from the old days.

He visited his mother, she knew, and the word around the tenement was that he was all right, going to work, getting over the shock of his rejection, even if not the pain. That would take time, of course, but there was no longer any need to worry about him. Everybody got over love affairs, eh? Maybe, one day, he’d find someone else.

As for Rosemary, though still at number nineteen, she was keeping herself very much to herself, Jemima being the only person she saw. It might not be long, though, before she moved on, Jemima again told Lindy. There was a job she was keen to get; she just had to persuade her mother that it was the right one. If it worked out she’d be finding herself another place to live.

‘So her little experiment of seeing how the other half lives is coming to an end,’ commented Lindy. ‘Hasn’t exactly been a success.’

‘She’s had a hard time,’ Jemima replied coldly. ‘No one thinks of her and what she’s been through.’

‘I’m sure she’ll get over it. Especially now she’s found herself a job, eh?’

‘As a matter of fact, I found her the job. At least, I sort of suggested it.’

‘You did?’ Lindy stared, frowning. ‘Whatever sort of job could you find for her, then?’

Jemima shook her head, enjoying her moment of mystery. ‘Shh, I’ll tell you all about it when it’s all arranged.’

‘Never found anything for me, I notice.’

‘Why, you don’t want anything now, do you? You’ve got your Rod.’ Jemima smiled. ‘When do we hear the wedding bells?’

‘No plans for them,’ Lindy answered cautiously. ‘We don’t really talk of the future; we’re happy as we are just for the minute.’

A knowing look swam into Jemima’s eyes. ‘That sounds a bit too familiar. Isn’t that what you used to say about Neil?’

‘No!’ cried Lindy. ‘What I feel for Rod is quite different from what I felt for Neil!’

‘So, what’s holding you back? Oh, Lindy, you’re no’ still afraid of marriage, are you?’

‘No, honestly, I’m not. I think now, if you find the right person, marriage is right, but the fact is – Rod and me – we haven’t discussed it.’

‘He’s no’ popped the question? Maybe you’ve put him off, talking about finding a new job?’

‘As though a new job’s going to turn up for me, anyway!’

‘Better settle for being a bride,’ said Jemima.

There were times, it was true, when Lindy thought the same. Once that first kiss with Rod had turned into loving closeness and the pleasure of passionate embraces, she’d found herself carried away by the thought of really making love, which was not something she’d ever thought much about before. Just as Neil must have found a great divide between what he’d felt for Lindy and the love that had swamped him for Rosemary, so Lindy had found being with Rod had opened up floodgates of passion in herself she’d never known could exist. No wonder folk wanted to get married, eh?

Yet both she and Rod were cautious, and it was true that, in spite of her feelings for him and her joy in being with him, there was a little bit of her that felt regret she might never, as Neil had put it, one day fly. But that was a piece of nonsense, eh? Better, as Jemima said, to settle for being a bride – if that was to be on offer, and in the meantime, enjoy what she had.

November, 1935 brought bad news to the country. Not just the foreign stuff they knew about, but carefully expressed anxieties about the King’s health, and fears that the Prince of Wales might still not be married when he came to the throne. No one wanted a bachelor king. Why didn’t he get on with finding a suitable bride? There were rumours that he was seeing an American woman, and though no one really believed that, many hoped that George the Fifth would just keep going. Aye, that’d be best, eh? Always best to stick to what you knew.

‘Do you think the Prince of Wales will ever marry?’ Lindy asked Rod one evening when they were driving back to number nineteen after a cinema outing. There had been pictures of the Prince at some function or other on the newsreel, and she’d wondered how someone of his mature age hadn’t already married and had a family.

‘I mean, he’s over forty, eh? I don’t know anyone over that age who isn’t married.’

‘Oh, I expect he’ll tie the knot sometime,’ Rod answered, not letting his eyes stray from the road ahead as there was fog about. ‘It’s difficult for him – he has to marry the right person.’

‘I should think everybody’d want to do that!’ cried Lindy, laughing.

‘What I mean is, the woman he marries has to be approved by the King and all sorts of people. Maybe the ones he’s wanted haven’t come up to scratch.’

‘Some of the papers are saying he’s seeing an American woman.’

‘Nothing wrong with being American, but I believe she’s married already.’

‘Won’t be her he marries, then.’

As they turned into Scott Street and Rod stopped the car well away from number ninteen, Lindy found herself wondering at the way their talk was going. So much interest in the marriage of the Prince of Wales . . . All right, she’d started it. Maybe it was always at the back of her mind that one day there might be talk of their own marriage – hers and Rod’s. That maybe, in this very car, after an evening out together, he might propose, and she would have to know what to say. Well, what would she say? Yes, oh, Rod, yes! I do love you so!

Neither of them had put their love into words, but both, she was sure, knew it was there. In their hearts. At least, she knew that about herself, and surely, when she looked at those dear golden-brown eyes of Rod’s, she knew it was there too? Yet he didn’t speak, didn’t discuss the future – always held back. Because he wasn’t sure of her? Sure of what she wanted? Thought she might not say, when he proposed, ‘Yes, oh, yes!’

The truth was she wasn’t sure herself that she would. She did love Rod. She did want to be married to him. But maybe not just yet.

‘Penny for them?’ she heard Rod whispering as he took her hands in his. ‘You seem lost in a brown study, whatever that is. I’ve never known.’

‘I was just wondering why we were talking about the Prince of Wales,’ she said, which was mainly truthful.

‘You mean, instead of us? Quite right. We’re much more interesting.’

Rod’s lips found hers and for some time they kissed with their usual heady passion, yet sooner than usual Rod drew back.

‘Lindy,’ he murmured, rubbing her hands which were cold, for she’d taken off her gloves, ‘there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you –’

Meaning to ask? Her heart gave a leap. Was this it? What she’d been waiting for, preparing herself for? No sooner had she asked herself the questions, she knew it wasn’t. Rod’s approach was too casual, too matter of fact. If he’d been about to propose he wouldn’t have been like that. She knew him too well to believe it. Relaxing, she squeezed his hands. ‘What is it, then?’

‘Well, there are two places I want to take you.’

‘New places?’

‘New to you. One is my home, in Leith.’

Ah. Lindy’s eyes brightened with interest. She’d often wondered why Rod had never invited her to his home. When his father was at sea he lived in the house alone on his days away from the hostel, which meant that if he took her there they would be alone too, and wasn’t that just what they wanted? Yet he’d never asked her to go there.

‘Your home, Rod? That’d be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to see it – when can we go?’

‘That’s the thing, Lindy. I don’t feel we can until my dad comes home, but he’s due back at Christmas and we’ll fix it up then.’

‘Christmas? Why wait till then? Why does your dad have to be there, anyway? I don’t understand.’

‘Come on, you do.’ In the shadows of his car, Rod was looking embarrassed. ‘Whatever would your stepmother say, and your father, if I took you to my home and there were only the two of us? They wouldn’t be happy, would they?’

‘Why, Rod, that isn’t true!’ Lindy was flushing, her eyes wide with surprise. ‘Aunt Myra wouldn’t mind at all. Neither would my dad. They trust you, Rod. So do I!’

‘I know, I know, but – well, it’s the way it’d look. I don’t want to upset anybody.’

‘You needn’t worry,’ Lindy said firmly. ‘And I’d like to see where you live.’

‘OK, but let’s leave it for now, because the other place I want to take you – I know it won’t sound exciting – is where I work. I mean, the men’s hostel.’

Rod had dropped Lindy’s hands and was gazing at her apologetically. ‘It’s important to me, somehow, that you see it. Because it’s a part of me, I suppose, and I’m hoping you’ll be interested.’

‘Of course I’ll be interested,’ Lindy said at once. ‘Like you say, it’s where you work and it’s important to you. When could I come, though?’

‘Any evening,’ he said eagerly. ‘Or a Sunday afternoon. You needn’t stay long. Maybe come after the chaps have had their Sunday dinner, say half past two?’

‘Next Sunday?’

‘Next Sunday it is. Oh, Lindy, it’s nice of you to say you’ll come. I appreciate it.’

Their eyes met and they sighed as though relieved they’d got duty out of the way, and now moved readily into the best part of the evening, which was their blissful meeting of mouths and hands and murmurings of names, until it was time for Lindy’s reluctant departure.

‘Oh, God, Lindy,’ Rod murmured, walking with her to her door. ‘It’s not easy, being trusted.’

‘You are, though,’ she told him.

‘You can count on it,’ he said steadily. ‘Goodnight, dear Lindy. See you Sunday, then – seems a long time away.’

‘Dear Rod, it’s four days,’ she said with a smile.

In the flat her father had already gone to bed, but Myra was still up and so was Struan, not long back from the pub. ‘Needn’t ask if you had a good time,’ he said cheekily.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Lindy, glancing quickly at her stepmother.

‘Come on, you’ve got that look, eh? Unmistakable.’

‘Give over teasing her,’ said Myra, setting out plates for next day’s breakfast. ‘Of course she’s had a good time with Rod.’

‘He says he might take me to see his home,’ Lindy said casually as she took off her coat. ‘That’d be all right, eh?’

Myra raised her eyebrows. ‘See his home? Will his dad be there?’

‘Only if we go at Christmas. I’m no’ sure when we’ll go.’

‘There’d just be the two of you?’ asked Struan. ‘Better take me along to keep an eye on you.’

‘What a thing to say!’ cried Myra. ‘Why, Rod’s a nice lad. He’d always behave well.’

At which Struan only shrugged and gave one of his grins.

‘Like I said, I don’t know when we’re going,’ Lindy said sharply. ‘Next Sunday I’m going to the hostel where he works – he’d like me to see it.’

‘That homeless fellows’ hostel?’ cried Myra. ‘Why ever should he want you there?’

‘Always thought he was a bit of an odd bloke,’ commented Struan, ‘but I won’t say a word against him, seeing as he lets me drive his car now and again.’

‘And I won’t say a word against him, anyway,’ Lindy retorted. ‘Now I’m away to my bed.’

But not, for some time, to sleep.

‘A bit of an odd bloke,’ Struan had said of Rod, which was so obviously untrue she might have had another argument over it, except that she wanted to get to bed and decided just to let it go. All the same she couldn’t help wondering again, as she turned over and over against her pillow, why Rod held back the way he did. Strange, when he loved her, as she was sure he did. One day, surely, they would take a step forward to something?