Anne Douglas (24 page)

‘I think to make up for never taking you. She’s always felt bad, but this was something she felt might make up for what she didn’t do. It’s a family piece – she was sure you’d like it.’

‘A family piece . . . Brett, I’ll treasure it. I have so few. Oh, I can’t tell you what it means to me! I’ll write this very night to thank your mom.’

She reached up and lightly kissed his cheek, at which he slightly flushed, then took her arm as they turned their steps towards Baxter Row.

Naturally, Mrs Gow was thrilled by Shona’s grandmother’s watch, but even more so by Brett’s looks, Brett’s voice, Brett’s manners, and everything about him. And not just because he had presented her with a box of chocolates when he’d first arrived for the walk, which had had her blushing like a young girl. No, Shona could tell, as her landlady called them to her table on their return, that this visit from such an amazing young man was turning out to be a red letter day for her, and that she was somehow astonished that Shona, poor Emmie Murray’s lassie, should have a cousin such as this!

After tea, so extravagantly praised, they moved to sit near the range and Shona, at a request from Brett, brought down her photographs to show him.

For some time, he studied them. Emmie, smiling, on a day out at the seaside – Portobello, perhaps? Shona had never been sure. And Jim in his uniform, taken before he went to France. Then Brett looked up at Shona. ‘Yes, you’re like your mother,’ he told her. ‘I can see the likeness plainly. Your dad looks fine, but you’re not like him. And you and your mother are not like my mother. Strange, how heredity goes, eh?’

‘I always say we all get different packages,’ Mrs Gow remarked. ‘Nobody knows which way a babbie will turn out, eh? Same goes for character as for looks. Like father, like son, the saying goes, but it’s no’ always true.’

‘My dad was a very law abiding citizen,’ Brett said with a smile. ‘I hope I am like him.’

‘I’m sure you are!’ cried Mrs Gow.

A short time later, when the January afternoon was already closing in, Brett said he must be on his way. No, no, he really couldn’t stay, he had shirts to iron, amongst other things, but he’d had a really wonderful day; he’d always remember it. Now he just wanted to say thank you for the lovely tea and the lovely walk.

‘You have to iron your own shirts?’ Mrs Gow was scandalized. ‘Why ever didn’t you bring ’em here? We’d have done ’em for you, wouldn’t we, Shona?’

‘As though I’d do that!’ Brett grinned, as Shona found his coat and handed him his hat. ‘No, all the fellows at the Y do their own laundry. It’s no trouble. I’m a dab hand at it, anyway.’

‘Well, I never heard of men doing the washing,’ Mrs Gow declared. ‘My husband never ironed a shirt in his life; he wouldn’t have known where to start.’

Shona, scarcely listening, was touching her grandmother’s watch that she’d pinned to the front of her green dress, and was taking such pleasure in it she almost shed tears again. Aunt Mona couldn’t have given her anything she’d value more, for this was a family gift, a link with those who’d gone before that she’d never thought to own. Already she was thinking out her letter of thanks and planning to get it into the post tomorrow, as she knew it would take a long time to Canada.

‘See the laddie to the door, Shona,’ Mrs Gow said kindly. ‘I’ll clear away.’

Finally, Shona and Brett were alone in the tiny hallway before the door.

‘Shall I call in at the shop tomorrow?’ Brett asked, his gaze on Shona soft and melting. ‘Just to see if you have any luck with your boss. You did say you’d speak with him?’

‘I did, I will. So, yes, look in later on.’

They exchanged long looks, then quickly hugged and moved apart.

‘Thank you for today,’ Brett whispered.

‘And thank you for bringing Grandma’s watch to me. It’s so wonderful to have it; I’m so grateful to your mom.’

Shona opened the door and gazed out at the wintry evening. ‘I’m sorry you have such a trek back, Brett, and in such miserable weather.’

‘It’s OK. I told you, I’m used to much worse than this. All I’ll be thinking of is the good time I’ve had today.’

Touching his cap, he left her, pausing to wave once then walking strongly away, while Shona, having watched him out of sight, ran upstairs to her room to replace her photographs by her bed and add to them her grandmother’s watch in its worn little box.

If Shona had hoped for a sympathetic response from Fraser when she tried a second time to plead Brett’s case, she was disappointed. As soon as she’d explained on Monday morning why she wanted to see him, his welcoming expression changed; even his dimples vanished with his smile, to be replaced by a dark frown.

‘Shona, you’re not on again about this cousin of yours, are you?’ he asked in exasperation. ‘I’ve already explained, I can’t help. I have an accountant. Your relative will have to find something for himself.’

‘I know you did say you didn’t need him,’ she persevered, ‘but with the new shop and everything, surely Mr MacNay could do with an assistant? Brett’s no’ asking for a top job, just something to keep him going while he spends time here.’

‘Stuart MacNay is very efficient; he doesn’t need an assistant.’

‘But you must admit there is a lot to do,’ she pressed. ‘And it would mean so much.’

‘To him? Or to you?’

‘Well, to him of course, but he is my cousin. I’d like to see him get a job he’d enjoy.’ Shona’s look was earnest. ‘And I’m sure he’d enjoy working here.’

Fraser heaved a deep sigh. ‘I don’t know, Shona, you’re a terrible girl, eh? Won’t take no for an answer. Tell you what, if this paragon comes in tomorrow at about ten with all his references and such, I’ll agree to see him. I can scarcely recommend him to anyone unless I know what he’s like.’

‘You will recommend him?’ asked Shona, brightening.

‘Depends how he shapes up.’

‘But you could suggest to Mr MacNay that he might like to have someone to help? I bet he’s already thinking about the extra work when we open the new shop.’

‘And maybe not just the new shop,’ Fraser said, suddenly relaxing. ‘I’m seriously considering opening a café at the market garden.’

‘A café?’ Shona raised her eyebrows. ‘But who would want a café at a place like that?’

‘Families. Folk on Saturdays looking for a place to take the children. I see them taking a trip out to Kyle’s to choose some plants, then having tea or a light meal while they’re there. It’s something new but it could take off, Shona. A place like that – it’s wasted. So much more could be made of it.’

‘If you say so,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Honestly, Fraser, you have me in a whirl. I never know what idea is coming next.’

‘That’s where money comes from,’ he told her. ‘Ideas that work. Now, I’ve to get on. You tell your cousin to come at ten tomorrow and we’ll see how things go.’

‘I’m really grateful, Fraser. Thank you very much.’

‘Don’t need thanking – haven’t done anything yet.’ He moved with her to the door, where he laid his hand on her arm. ‘You’re looking particularly pretty today, Shona. Have you done something new to your hair?’

She laughed. ‘Just washed it.’

‘Tell me, does this cousin of yours look like you?’

‘No, not at all. He doesn’t look like my side of the family; he told me he was like his father.’

‘H’m. Well, I’ll see him for myself tomorrow. Listen, are you going to spare me some time later on this week? When you’re not acting like a tour guide for your cousin, I mean.’

‘I have to show him round, Fraser. I’m the only person he knows here.’

‘Yes, yes, agreed, but what about me? I’m still waiting, you know.’

There was a significant silence between them as they stood face-to-face at the door. ‘I do know,’ Shona said at last. ‘I’m sorry, Fraser.’

‘Well, there’s a Gilbert and Sullivan concert at the Lyceum. Maybe we could go to that? I’m quite a fan of theirs. How about Thursday?’

Agreeing to meet, Shona left Fraser, pausing for a moment at the door of Stuart MacNay’s office next door. Poor chap – he’d probably be dosing himself with peppermint, or some such medication, as he worked on his books. Everyone knew he was a fanatic for work, but surely he would be glad of an assistant? If she could only pop in and put the idea to him . . . No, no, she’d better not annoy Fraser, doing something like that, for he would surely find out. Better just leave it to Brett himself to convince him he was needed.

She was turning to go down the stair when Stuart surprised her by coming out of his office, a cup in his hand. ‘Good morning, Shona,’ he said with one of his faint smiles. ‘I’m just off to make my tea. Miss Elrick’s in Peebles today.’

‘Hope you’re feeling better?’

‘Och, I just take things as they come.’ He shook his head. ‘Sometimes think I’ve no digestion at all, but if I’m careful I get by.’

‘Must be hard for you, with so much to do,’ Shona couldn’t resist saying. ‘With the new shop coming soon.’

‘I know. As it is, I’ve to spend time over at the market garden, doing their accounts. How I’m going to manage with the Morningside shop, I’ve no idea.’

In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Shona. ‘My cousin from Canada is an accountant, you know. He’s seeing Mr Kyle tomorrow to see if there’s any hope of a job.’

‘A job? Here? It’s news to me that Mr Kyle is thinking of taking on another accountant.’

‘Oh, he isn’t! My cousin’s just hoping he might be given something temporary. But he might well be a help to you, eh?’

‘He might at that,’ Stuart said thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if I should have a word with Mr Kyle?’

‘If you do, don’t tell him I said anything,’ Shona said hastily. ‘He wouldn’t be pleased to think I was interfering.’

‘No, no, of course not. He might ask my opinion, anyway.’

‘He might.’ Shona, already beginning to have regrets that she had, in fact, interfered, said she’d better get back to work, at which the accountant nodded abstractedly and walked slowly away to make his peppermint tea, obviously deep in thought.

What have I done? Shona asked herself, hurrying down to the workroom, feelings of guilt now consuming her. Hadn’t Fraser once said she was one who had the success of the business at heart? Yet here she was, working to get Brett a job in it when she hadn’t the faintest idea how good he was, not actually thinking of the business at all. And pretending as well to be thinking of Mr MacNay’s health, when again she only had Brett’s interests in mind. As for her treatment of Fraser, she was ashamed of herself for keeping him dangling and not telling him of her true feelings.

What sort of a person was she, then? Just somebody carried away by a good-looking face? Somebody who accepted presents from a man who wanted to marry her and hadn’t the courage to tell him she never could?

Whatever else, she must return the bangle when they went to the Gilbert and Sullivan concert on Thursday, even though her heart was already sinking at the thought of sitting through the witty songs and jolly music while knowing what she must say to Fraser. Unless she said it first? No, that would be even worse.

It was a relief to find that there was no one else in the workroom, and she stood for a moment looking at her reflection in the long mirror on one wall. Where was all her colour, the radiance that had been hers lately? Only a subdued young woman gazed back at her now, hazel eyes so sad, short bright hair only emphasizing the paleness of her face. Perhaps she’d feel better when Brett looked in? The girl in the mirror did smile at that, but it was only when the real Shona turned to the flowers she had earlier left in water that her low spirits revived.

To be with flowers usually had that effect, their scent and texture cheering her on the bleakest days, and those she had selected for a customer’s engagement present didn’t fail her now. Fine lilies, roses, antirrhinums, gypsophila, all filled her with new enthusiasm for creating a truly handsome bouquet the young man wanted for his new fiancée. The foliage framework was ready to hand, as well as all the tools she needed and the satin ribbon for tying. All she had to do was get to work and as she settled down to it and grew totally absorbed, her troubles faded and she was, at least for a while, herself again.

When Brett came to the shop in the afternoon, the bouquet had long been despatched for delivery by Dan and Shona was ready to greet Brett with her news.

‘Ten o’clock tomorrow I see Mr Kyle?’ he murmured, keeping his voice down as Cassie and a customer were close. ‘Shona, you’re a marvel! How’d you fix it?’

‘I’m no’ even sure, but it’s just to check your qualifications and that sort of thing. There’s no promise of a job.’

‘I know, but still, I’m in with a chance, eh?’ Brett’s eyes were shining. ‘Gee, I’m glad I ironed a shirt last night – I guess it’ll be best bib and tucker tomorrow, do you think?’

‘Oh, I should say it’ll be just very informal.’ Shona smiled. ‘You’ll do well, anyway.’

‘I hope so, as you’ve got me this chance. Shona, I’m truly grateful. Could I not take you out tonight – to sort of celebrate?’

‘I think we’ll save the celebrating until we’ve something to celebrate,’ she told him, moving with him to the door. ‘I have to go now: there are more customers coming in.’

‘Everything all right?’ he asked anxiously. ‘You seem – I don’t know – a bit less cheerful somehow.’

‘I do have a few things on my mind – nothing to do with you. I’ll see you tomorrow then, after your interview? Don’t forget to bring all your documents.’

‘You bet. I’ll be getting ’em all in order tonight.’

Looking slightly worried but no less handsome he left the shop, while Shona, avoiding Cassie’s questioning stare, turned to serve a customer who wanted something nice and easy. ‘Daffodils!’ she cried. ‘Do you get these from the Scilly Isles?’

‘From Peebles, as a matter of fact,’ said Shona.

‘Your cousin didn’t stay long today,’ Cassie observed when they had a free moment. ‘What’s up, then? You’re looking down again.’

‘Nothing’s up, Cassie. There’s good news, as it happens. Mr Kyle’s going to interview Brett tomorrow. Just to see what he’s like – in case there’s any chance of a job.’

‘Mr Kyle is?’ Cassie gave a knowing smile. ‘Your doing, eh? You can always wrap Mr Kyle round your little finger.’