Anne Douglas (17 page)

When Shona came down, wearing the dark blue coat and brimmed hat she’d recently bought with her savings, Mrs Gow said how nice she looked and she hoped Shona hadn’t minded if she’d spoken out of turn, she hadn’t meant to interfere.

‘That’s all right, Mrs Gow,’ Shona answered, taking a last look in the kitchen mirror. It was true, she had been irritated by Mrs Gow’s warnings, probably because she had her own misgivings about her evening out, but she was happy enough to give her landlady a hug and tell her not to worry, she hadn’t minded anything she’d said. The last thing she would ever want was to quarrel with Mrs Gow, who had been so kind, and when she ran out for her tram, was relieved they’d parted on good terms.

As she was shaken along through lighted streets, she felt at first as though she were facing some kind of ordeal, then tried to laugh at herself. She’d agreed to go, so why shouldn’t she enjoy it? No reason at all. But when she arrived at the Princes Street Picture House, she was still half hoping Fraser wouldn’t be there.

Of course, there he was. Pacing up and down outside the cinema in a huge camel coat with a trilby hat over his sandy hair. And looking out for her. He heaved a long sigh when he saw her and took her hand, just for a moment, in his own heavy clasp to lead her inside.

‘There you are, then! You came. I wondered if you would.’

‘I said I would.’

‘Ah, but things can happen. Never mind, you’re here now and we’re all set. Just have to get the tickets.’

‘Mr Kyle – I mean, Fraser – I think there’s a queue.’

‘Not for the Circle,’ he said kindly. ‘Wait there a second.’

The Circle? Shona felt her jaw drop. She had never in her life been in the Circle at the cinema. Why, that would cost . . . She wasn’t sure how much it would cost, but more than anyone she knew had ever paid.
Who knows what he’ll expect
, Mrs Gow had said. So how much might he expect, then, in return for tickets to the Circle? Shona was beginning to feel her misgivings were turn into real anxiety, until Fraser came back with the tickets, his face was so open and his smile so much as usual, she felt herself relaxing. Just a little.

‘This way,’ he murmured. ‘Up the staircase. Should have a really good view of Al Jolson’s tonsils, eh?’

The view of the screen from the Circle was certainly splendid, and even though there were only advertisements showing, Shona’s eyes were riveted. The pianist below was strumming away, and Fraser murmured as they took their excellent seats, ‘Poor chap. He’ll soon be out of a job, won’t he?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, who’s going to need a pianist to accompany the pictures when we have the actors telling us what’s going on?’

‘Why, this is just a single picture, isn’t it? They won’t make all the films with sound.’

‘Want to bet?’

They could say no more as the advertisements had ended, the lights were going down and the ‘big picture’ – the unique picture, as it happened – was about to begin.

At first, it was all just as usual, with Al Jolson playing the part of a young Jewish singer in Manhattan who runs away from home when his father, a religious singer at the synagogue, punishes him for singing jazz. It was only when the actor had finished singing a song on stage that the big moment came, and the words that were to change film-making for ever boomed into the cinema and the ears of those watching. Such ordinary, everyday words, the sort you’d hardly notice, ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain’t heard nothing yet!’ Al Jolson cried to his film audience.

Wait a minute, wait a minute, you ain’t heard nothing yet!

Was this the beginning of a revolution? Well, certainly when the Edinburgh audience heard them, the words were enough to rock them in their seats. Enough to make Shona give an involuntary cry and stare almost in fright at the screen. It was as though the actor was speaking directly to her, looking at her, making her feel she was drawn somehow into the picture, and though she knew that that was absurd, when Fraser reached over for her hand she took his gladly.

‘Not scared, are you?’ he whispered, and she saw the flash of his teeth and his eyes shining in the light from the screen. ‘Don’t think Al’s coming out from the picture somehow?’

‘No, no, ’course not!’

As the actor continued to talk and the effect began to fade, she relaxed and let go Fraser’s hand. ‘I was just being silly. But it was such a shock.’

‘A shock wave round the world,’ he murmured. ‘At least, the cinema world.’

They were both silent then, Shona suddenly becoming more aware of Fraser’s closeness, his great shoulder next to hers, realizing afresh that they were together, she and her boss, not quite believing it yet all the same excited.

It was calming to watch the story unfold, with Al Jolson visiting his mother, talking and singing to her, and eventually making his peace with his father, singing for him in the synagogue as he lay dying, and bringing the film to a tearful close. The credits rolled, the curtains closed for the intermission while the stunned audience began to chatter, and Shona, giving a long, exhausted sigh, turned to meet Fraser’s eyes fixed on her.

‘There’s another feature if you want to stay,’ he told her, ‘but maybe you’ve had enough?’

‘I think I have. I don’t know why, but I feel sort of tired.’

‘The result of a new experience, eh? But something tells me we’re going to be so used to sound at the pictures, we won’t even notice it.’

Outside the night air was cold and reviving, and walking to the car made Shona feel better, except when Fraser put her arm in his and then she was too conscious of him again.

‘How about a quick drink before I take you home?’ he asked as they took their seats in the car. ‘I know a nice quiet hotel just round the corner from here.’

‘I don’t think so, thanks,’ she said quickly. ‘I’d best get back.’

‘Next time, then.’

Next time? He was assuming there would be other times? As he drove her home, her thoughts were spinning, questions tumbling in her brain. What was happening? Where were they going? He was attracted to her, she knew, she could tell, and not just because she resembled his dead sweetheart. But how serious would he be, and did she want him to be serious, anyway? No, the answer was clear enough.

She felt something when she was with him, some great pull, but she knew she wasn’t in love. She wasn’t being carried along, as she would expect to be with someone she liked in that way, though to be honest she hadn’t had much experience. There’d only been that time when she was young, a child, really, and had had thoughts of Mark Lindsay always in her mind. But that was long ago and no longer real, whereas the big man driving her home was all
too
real. Quite at ease, of course, and talking of the effect sound was going to have on the cinema industry, just as though that was all she might have on her mind.

‘You think it’s going to matter?’ she asked. ‘I mean, folk like the silent pictures well enough.’

‘Come on, you saw the effect that fellow had tonight – imagine how all the film-makers will want to create that sort of excitement! And all the actors will have to be taking voice lessons and maybe lose their jobs if they’re not good enough, just like the pianists. Because there’ll be real sound effects from now on, much better than a poor guy can bring out on the old joanna!’

‘All comes down to change, then?’

‘Sure it does. It’s a changing world, eh? And with this new development, we’re in at the start. You’ll always be able to say you heard the first talkie. Aren’t you excited?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know that I always like change.’

‘Can be good, you know, as well as bad. But which is the house where you’re staying?’

As she pointed out Mrs Gow’s number, he slowed down and stopped the car, giving her only a quick look before getting out to open her door. What now? she wondered. How do we get though the goodnights, then?

But he was looking up at the bridge, so tall, so dominant above them, and whistling.

‘Good God! What’s it like to live in the shadow of that, then?’

‘We like it. We’ve always known it.’ Shona stared up, too. ‘And think what it would have been like before it came. Folk had to go right round by the village and the way down was awful steep, then up the Dean Path at the other side to go north. The bridge was a godsend.’

‘You’ve convinced me,’ he said, laughing, and drawing her from the car. ‘Someday you must take me all round the village, show me the mills and the houses, and the Water of Leith. Will you do that?’

‘If you want me to.’

Was this just another way of telling her he wanted to see her again? Shona, staring at him in the light of a street lamp, was still wondering what was coming next. The goodnight kiss? Most young men tried for that, but Fraser Kyle was no ordinary young man and this was their first evening out together. Of course, she didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss her, anyway, but if he did, she guessed he’d go carefully – it wouldn’t happen then. See how he was looking round at the street, the houses, the lighted windows. He wouldn’t, of course, want an audience.

‘Nice to see where you live,’ he said, suddenly reaching for her hand.

‘And where I used to live, before my folks died,’ she responded, staring down at his hand in hers.

‘Ah, where you were happy.’

‘Yes, very happy.’

‘You’ll be happy again, Shona.’

‘Hope so. In fact, I’ve had some happy times already.’

‘That’s good. As we were saying, people get over things.’ He pressed her hand and let it go. ‘You will come out with me again sometime? Maybe for a meal?’

Sometime. Not yet, then. Shona wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or excited. Then, ‘Yes, I’d like to,’ she heard herself reply.

‘That’s good, that’s wonderful. We’ll fix it up.’ He touched the brim of his trilby. ‘Goodnight, Shona. See you tomorrow.’

‘Goodnight, Fraser. And thanks for a lovely evening.’

‘Exciting one, eh?’

He grinned and took his seat in the car, hesitated, then reversed quickly and drove away.

Mrs Gow was still up when Shona let herself in, and bustled about putting on the kettle and setting out biscuits.

‘Had a good time, dear? What was it like, the picture, then? Could you hear the voices?’

‘Oh, yes, they were loud! Seemed loud, anyway, and so strange.’

Shona took off her coat and hat and sat down at the kitchen table, aware that another question was trembling on Mrs Gow’s lips.

‘And Mr Kyle was fine,’ Shona told her. ‘Was the perfect gentleman the whole time.’

‘Oh, well, that’s good, then.’

Mrs Gow stirred the teapot and poured the tea. ‘I was that worried, you know – couldn’t help it.’

She gave Shona a sideways glance. ‘You seeing him again, dear?’

‘Perhaps. Nothing’s arranged.’ Shona drank her tea and rose. ‘Think I’ll away to my bed, Mrs Gow. That picture quite tired me out.’

‘Yes, you go on up. I’ll tidy away. Goodnight, Shona.’

‘Goodnight, Mrs Gow.’

In her room, however, Shona sat for some time before getting ready for bed. Talk with Fraser of her parents had unsettled her, reminding her of the old days and of how she had always been able to talk things over with her mother and would have liked to talk with her then. Oh, yes, you could get over loss, but then there came times when you just wished you could see a person again, ask advice, express your worries. Not possible. Not ever possible. She was on her own, Shona knew, as she had been for a long time, and must work things out for herself. For now, better just go to bed.

Perchance to dream
, as the play said, but when Shona finally did sleep and did dream, the dreams were not of Fraser Kyle, but of Al Jolson, singing in his amplified voice and staring straight at her, drawing her inwards into his strange world until, with a start, she woke up and then lay awake for the rest of the night.

A week went by during which Shona was on edge, wondering if Fraser would make his move and how she should respond if he did, but then tension eased when Cassie arrived, all eager to start work, though feeling, she said, all a-tremble.

‘Had one great almighty row with those two old biddies,’ she confessed to Shona, when she came down to Mrs Gow’s house after settling in at Kitty’s on her first evening. ‘That’s why I’m early starting at Maybel’s. When I said I would be leaving and working out my notice, they told me if I didn’t want to work for them, I could leave right there and then without a character. Oh, they were so cross!’

‘As though they’ve any right be!’ Shona cried. ‘And they can’t deny you a reference just because you’re leaving!’

‘The very idea!’ chimed Mrs Gow. ‘I hope you told ’em what’s what, Cassie!’

‘Well, I didn’t. I was just so glad to be leaving early, I told ’em to forget the character, I didn’t need it. I mean, I’ve got two others from my previous employers and they were enough for Mr Kyle. I packed my bag and got the tram to Kitty’s because she said I could move in any time.’ Cassie turned her eyes on Shona. ‘So, here I am, Shona, dying to start work but that terrified you wouldn’t believe.’

‘I certainly wouldn’t,’ Shona said robustly. ‘You’ll fit in, nae bother, you’ll see. I’ll call for you tomorrow morning and we’ll take the tram together. Don’t be worrying.’

‘Easier said than done,’ sighed Cassie.

In fact, she had no need to worry. Within a few days it was clear that she was quick to learn and would present no problems. Which was just as well, as Brigid remarked, for already the Christmas rush was beginning, with orders flooding in for wreaths, house flowers and potted plants as presents, so that everyone was working at full stretch.

While Cassie could not yet help in the workroom, she very soon picked up the routine of the front shop, working with whichever assistant was free to serve the public, taking orders, preparing simple bunches of flowers and managing the till, which made Isla’s eyes widen.

‘Och, you’re quick, eh?’ she whispered to Cassie. ‘It took me ages to work out the till, and I was so scared of the customers, I sometimes thought I’d have to leave. But you’re not scared at all.’