Roses of Winter (44 page)

Charlie’s arrival in the house was like that of a strong wind that blows up from nowhere.
It’s amazing
, Mary thought,
how he can be gone for ages and the first minute he’s home he’s raised everybody’s spirits
. It was a knack he had.
 
Mary had always felt she existed in Charlie’s shadow. It was easy for any one to feel ordinary in the glow of his distinctive personality. Everyone was instantly drawn to him.

Mary realized again how much she loved and needed this man.
The war had changed him
, though, she thought. The lines around his eyes were a little deeper, his face more worn. She consoled herself with the thought that it added character to a face that was still youthful.

Charlie threw his arms around Mary and almost lifted her off her feet. He planted a large kiss on her lips. She yielded to it for a few moments before trying to draw away, self-conscious in the presence of the others.

“There’s nae need tae be shy, Mary,” Charlie said. Mary brushed down her dress and raised a hand to a cheek that felt scalded with embarrassment. That was one other way he had changed, she thought. The pre-war Charlie would never have done that. She thought of his attentiveness during his last homecoming, when the family had gone to bed and they were alone.
 
Mary blushed again. The memory left a glow of happiness in her core. She looked forward to the night to come. As far as Mary was concerned, it was one of the few good things to come out of the war.

Charlie looked at Ellen. A thoughtful expression crossed his face before he let her kiss him on the cheek. Betty gave him a hug, looking over his shoulder at Harry who was hanging back sheepishly by the door.

Charlie disentangled himself and told her, “Here’s the man ye really want tae see.” Betty threw him a look that said,
you awful man you
. She took a few steps towards Harry who hung back. A nervous grin creased his handsome face. Charlie signaled him to come forward.

Seeing Charlie’s disgusted look, Harry took a tentative step forward and landed the lightest of pecks on Betty’s cheek. She seized him in her arms and held him close, concealing his deepening embarrassment from the room.

Charlie smirked at Mary, who knowing the next words to be expected from Charlie, went to put the kettle on.

“Ah think it’ll no’ be lang afore we see a wedding between those two,” Charlie said when the door closed behind Betty and Harry. He sighed contentedly and took down a great draught of tea. Mary, without any prompting, started to make another pot. “My, this is grand,” Charlie said, putting his feet on the fender.

Ellen shifted in her chair and looked into the fire. “So when are ye gaun tae tell me whit’s the matter wi’ you?” Charlie asked her. Mary, who had hoped to prepare the ground with her husband, came over to stand beside Ellen. Y
e cannae put anything bye this man
, she thought.
 

Mary put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and rubbed it, encouraging her to go ahead. When Ellen said nothing, Mary looked at Charlie and tried to decide where to start. It was not the wish to blunt an angry response from Charlie’s that made her hesitate. She had always marveled at the way he could take in information that would send any average man through the roof then find a compromise that seemed to keep everyone happy. It was discomfort with telling Ellen’s private business in front of her.

“It’s all right, Ma, I’ll tell him myself,” Ella said. “Dae ye remember Robbie Gilmour from Campbelltown?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow as if to say, so that’s whit this is about.

“Well, ah met him again a few weeks ago and we’ve been going out thegither.”

“And ye’re feeling guilty aboot Jim,” Charlie said.

Ellen nodded.

Charlie remained silent for a few moments, remembering their old concerns over Robbie. Both women waited for his reaction. “Well,” he said, “are ye just having a bit o’ fun or is it more serious than that?”

Ellen blushed. “Ah don’t know, Da’.”

Charlie nodded. “Aye, well, ye shouldnae drag this thing oot. Ye know ye need tae decide wan way or the other. It’s no’ fair tae Jim, or to Robbie for that matter. But it’s mair than that. Nae matter how much ye try tae avoid the truth, it has a way o’ blowing up in yer face. The longer ye put it off the harder it gets.”

“Ah know, Da’, ah know,” Ellen said.

Charlie looked at the fire and a wistful look came over his face. “It’s no’ a simple thing, life,” he said. “Ye make choices and ye don’t even realize your daeing that. Sometimes ye feel like a cork floating on a wave wi’ nae control over whit happens next. It’s only when ye look back that ye realize that there were other paths tae take. Sometimes ye have regrets and sometimes your happy with the way things turned oot.” He paused. “And sometimes you feel both things at the same time.” He laughed, and stirred, as though from a dream.

A nervous laugh
, Mary thought, not used to seeing this side of her husband. She wondered what memory he had invoked.

Charlie looked at Mary and smiled. “A hope that tea isnae stewed.”

❅❅❅❅❅

Harry and Betty wandered down the canal bank towards Dawsholm Park, their hands entwined, their mood content. They crossed over the lock at Anniesland and headed up to the breast of the hill to sit for a while. Betty’s heart fluttered with the thrill of expectation. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her face. Above, a light zephyr danced in the trees, rustling the leaves. It brought the essence of grass and the pungent, more exotic aroma of rhododendrons.

“What a lovely day,” Betty said. She opened her eyes and turned to look at Harry. “On a day like this you could close your eyes and pretend there was no war.”

“Aye, it’s a fine day right enough,” Harry said.

“I wonder what our lives will be like after the war?” Betty asked. There was no response. “Haven’t you wondered about that?” she prompted.

“Tae tell ye the truth,” he responded, “ah’ve mainly been concerned wi’ just getting through this, never mind wondering about the future.”

Betty felt exasperated. While Harry’s steady, reliable ways were a large part of what she liked about him, they were often a source of irritation. She pushed the thought away, determined to let nothing spoil the day.

“It’s hope for the future that gets me through this war,” she said.

“Aye, ye’ve got a point there,” he said, wanting to be agreeable. “Whit is it that you’re hoping for?” Harry asked.

His question caught her off guard. “Ah’m tired o’ living in the city,” she said, finding words for a sentiment that had been with her since her return from Campbelltown. “Ah wid like tae live in a wee town in the country, just like Campbelltown.”

“Are ye sure ye would really like that?” Harry asked.

“Ah wid love it,” Betty said.

“Whit aboot a place like Inveraray?”
 

Betty understood immediately what he was asking. “Inveraray is just the place ah had in mind,” she said.
 

❅❅❅❅❅

On the following day, Pearl was sitting in Mary’s kitchen thinking about the excitement stirred up by Betty’s announcement of her engagement to Harry. She could not help feeling a little jealous of the happy scene it had created. But there had been an unexpected outcome for Pearl. Rather than drive her deeper into self-pity, Betty’s happiness had firmed her resolve.
There is no point in waiting to get married
, she thought.
Her father’s attitude was unlikely to change. And what difference should the war make either? Life was a game of chance
.
No matter how hard we try to kid ourselves that we have much say in the matter. Jimmie had said as much all along. In fact he had become a bloody pest about it
.
Well, he had been right.

Coming out of the Star, Pearl slipped her arm through Jimmie’s and brought him close to her. “That was a lovely picture,” she said. “Ah love a happy ending. It’s a pity it doesnae happen so often in real life.”

“It can if ye give it half a chance,” Jimmie said.

Pearl stopped walking and turned to face him. “Whit are ye getting at?” she asked.

Jimmie hesitated a moment. “Well look at us,” he said.

“Whit aboot us?” Pearl asked.

“Dae you love me?”

“You know ah do,” she said softly.

“So why can’t we get married? And don’t talk tae me aboot the bloody war again,” he said.
 
“We should be thegither. Ah would far rather take mah chances wi’ you beside me.”
 
Jimmie looked away from her down Maryhill Road. “You know ah’m sorry tae have tae say this, but yer faither will never change his mind aboot me. And ye cannie go on living with the Burnses. You know that, don’t you? So ah think ye should marry me and we’ll start out on our own. It’s no’ gaun tae get any easier after the war.”

“Ye’re right,” Pearl said. “Ah think we should get married. Ah was going tae tell ye the night.”

Jimmie looked at her, not sure he had heard right. His look of astonishment turned to pleasure. “Dae ye mean that?”

Pearl nodded and gave out a laugh that was cut off when he hugged her to him.

❅❅❅❅❅

Ellen was experiencing what for her was an unusual emotion, guilt. When she had started up with Robbie again she had gone ahead in her headstrong way, heedless of any consequence. But there were the cards and letters from Jim. When Jim’s mother had given her the first she had not written back right away. Mary’s constant prodding forced the issue. She had written a letter then that committed her to nothing; that said they should wait and see what the uncertain future brought.
 

He had written back in more cautious tones, masking his disappointment in talk of the mundane aspects of his camp life. Their correspondence had become almost routine, a duty to be performed. Until the day the post card arrived. It was a photograph, a staged, formal photograph, of Jim standing with a group of fellow inmates in well-pressed uniforms. The scene behind gave no hint of the nature of the place. The men stood against a backdrop of trees with a glimpse of buildings to the right. It could have been any army barracks in Britain. Jim stared out at her from under his cap, squinting, emotionless. In an instant she was reminded of her feelings for him.

 
It was only when one turned it over to look at the other side that the true nature of the scene became apparent. Framed in red where one would expect a postage stamp were stamped the words Stalag XXI D 15. She looked at the strange German lettering and began to cry. Ellen found herself caught in a trap of her own making. The countless boys and men who had been drawn by her into a similar heartless place would have shown her little sympathy. She could not bring herself to give up Robbie any more than she could forget Jim. But while Ellen wandered in a maze of indecision the walls of her trap began to close.

“Why is it that ye never bring me up tae your hoose?” Robbie asked. “We’ve been gaun oot thegither again for weeks but ye’ve never once asked me up tae see yer mother. Why is that?”

He had been withdrawn and sullen all evening. Ellen had been expecting something of the sort but the anger in his voice flustered her. While she groped for words, Robbie started on her again. “Are ye ashamed tae be seen wi’ me, is that it?”

“Naw, it’s no’ that,” Ellen said. “Ah’ve just been waiting to find the right time tae tell mah mother aboot you,” she lied. “You remember how they took me away from you the last time.”

“Aye, ah can see that right enough,” Robbie said. “But it’s different now that we’re older and ye cannae put it off for ever you know.”

“Ah know, Robbie, ah know. Ah’ll figure something out.”
 

Ellen entered the kitchen and sat down without looking at her Mother.

“What’s the matter wi’ you?” Mary asked.

“Robbie wants tae know why ah never bring him up tae the hoose.”

“Well, ye cannae exactly blame the man, can you?” Mary said. “So whit did ye tell him?”

“Ah telt him that ah didnae know how tae bring the subject up after whit happened in the past.”

“Well that was clever of you,” Mary said.

Ellen shrugged her shoulders huffily at the sharp tone in her mother’s voice. This exasperated Mary. “Ah know ye don’t want tae hear it, Ellen, but ye must have known ye couldnae get away with it for very long.”

“What am ah going tae dae, Ma?” Ellen asked. She wiped her hand across her eyes.

Mary felt sorry for her daughter but knew that she mustn’t relent on making her take account of herself. “You need tae have one or none of them,” Mary said. “And your father’s right, the longer you don’t face up to that fact, the worse it will get.”
 

The news of Pearl and Jimmie’s engagement reached Mary in the time it took Ida to come down the stairs. Jimmie and Pearl followed her down. They watched the women’s excited exclamations from just inside the door of Mary’s kitchen. “Will you two get yourselves in here,” Mary told them. That makes two happy events in one week,” she said. “Ah couldnae be mair pleased for you.”