Dreams to Sell (12 page)

‘Thought we might meet – as we said we would?'

‘Well, we said we'd discuss it,' she replied.

‘Still thinking it's a risk?' His tone was light, as though making clear he didn't really believe in any such thing.

Her grey eyes very direct on him, she knew what she'd decided. Might as well say. ‘I'd like to meet, Jamie. If you're happy about it.'

He gave a long sigh. ‘Roz, I've only just found the courage to ask you. I thought you might have decided against me.'

She shook her head, smiling, a little relieved. ‘Where shall we go, then?'

‘I know just the nice little anonymous place we'd like. Off Marchmont Road, a small restaurant near my flat. Alan – my flatmate – and I have been there a couple of times. The food's what you'd expect, but what they've got they cook quite well. Any good?'

‘Sounds perfect. What time shall we meet?'

‘Seven o'clock there, if that's all right? The name is Platters.'

‘Platters. Fine, I'll see you there.'

‘You're sure you can get a tram? I feel I should be taking you myself.'

‘Jamie, I've lived in Edinburgh all my life. I think I know how to get around.'

‘Of course you do, and I'm the country boy. But I'm learning to get around too in my spare time.'

‘Going where?'

‘Looking at properties, streets, areas. Figuring out where the building boom will go when it starts, as it will, when things improve. Edinburgh's going to see some changes, you know.'

‘Not too many,' she said uneasily.

‘Hey, it'll be right for us! More development can only be good news for people in the property business.'

‘We've already had changes. All that ribbon development in the thirties – bungalows all over the place.'

‘Not knocking bungalows, Roz? They get bought and sold too, remember?'

‘But they have no character, Jamie! And you like character, too, eh?'

‘Personally, yes, but for my bread and butter, I'm willing to buy and sell what comes my way. But what are we doing, talking like this? Forgetting what's important!'

‘And what's that?'

‘Our meeting tomorrow. Agreed?'

Their glances meeting, she said softly, ‘Agreed.'

There was no way out of telling Flo and Chrissie that she would be having a meal with someone the following evening. Biting on the bullet, she told them as soon as they came home from work on Wednesday.

‘You finish early tomorrow night, eh? Thought I'd better say I won't be having tea. I'm going out for a meal.'

‘Oh?' Flo's eyes were wide. ‘That's something new.'

‘Who with?' asked Chrissie, with interest. ‘Not one o' the lawyers?'

‘He is a lawyer, as a matter of fact. The one I work with.'

Flo and Chrissie looked at each other.

‘That fellow who took over from the nice one?' asked Flo.

‘Mr Shield, yes. But he's nice too.'

‘H'm. Thought you wouldn't be allowed to go out with him.'

‘It's just for a meal, Ma.'

‘Just the two of you?'

‘Well, yes,' Roz said, hesitating slightly and wishing an end to the questions.

‘You call him Mr Shield?' asked Chrissie.

‘No, I call him Jamie, but only when we're alone.'

‘Fancy. Thought those stuffed shirts at your place never used first names, eh?'

‘He asked me if we might use first names. Seemingly, where he worked before it was quite the thing.'

‘H'm,' said Flo again. ‘Well, I hope you know what you're doing. How about putting the kettle on?'

‘What are you going to wear?' asked Chrissie. ‘Are you going somewhere grand?'

‘Exact opposite. Somewhere small and quiet in Marchmont. And I'm not worrying too much about what I wear.'

‘Marchmont? Not many cafés there, eh?'

‘This one's near his flat.'

As Roz filled the kettle she could almost hear the wheels in her mother's mind moving round and round.

‘So he's got a flat? Of his own?'

‘No, he shares it with another fellow. Don't worry, Ma, I'm not going there anyway.'

‘Not yet,' said Flo.

‘Ma!' Roz said warningly, and no more was said until they were drinking tea and eating some tasteless Madeira cake, when Flo seemed to relax a little and reminded Roz and Chrissie that Dougal was due home on Friday.

‘D'you think he'll be in his uniform?' she asked anxiously. ‘I don't want to see him in that.'

‘He'll change for the weekend,' Roz told her quickly. ‘Don't worry about it, Ma.'

Might as well save her breath, she thought, sighing. Only Ma would decide what to worry about, or not.

Marchmont, home to Jamie and where Roz was to meet him at Platters, was an area of mainly tall stone houses, most given over to flats. Though the architecture had a certain sameness about it, it was a popular neighbourhood, near the Meadows, one of Edinburgh's largest parks, and Bruntsfield Links, a piece of land of great antiquity. Somewhere to walk, then. Somewhere to breathe fresh air and pretend to be in the country. No wonder the flats were sought after and fetched a good price.

Oh, nice, thought Roz, arriving at the outside of Platters at exactly seven o'clock on Thursday evening and admiring its white painted woodwork and hanging baskets of summer flowers. But where was Jamie?

‘Roz!' she heard him call as he appeared from the main door and came towards her with outstretched hands. ‘Well done, you found it! And dead on time, too!'

‘You know I don't like to be late,' she told him, laughing. ‘But this place looks so pretty, Jamie – it's very unusual, eh?'

‘Different from most Edinburgh restaurants, that's true. But come on, let's go in – I'm starving.'

Inside was just as pleasing, with shaded lights and vases of flowers on the white-clothed tables, most of which seemed to be occupied, making Roz wonder if they were too late to be served. But it was all right – Jamie had booked and a waitress showed them to a table by a window, handing them menus with a friendly smile.

‘No' a lot o' choice,' she whispered, ‘but the lamb casserole's very nice.'

‘Sounds good,' said Jamie. ‘What do you think, Roz? Shall I order for us both?'

‘Yes, please.'

Roz, who was taking more notice of the well-dressed diners than the menu, was glad she'd put on her best jacket and pretty blouse, for this place was a good deal smarter than she'd imagined. And expensive? Not used to dining out, she was beginning to feel a little uneasy, and when Jamie apologised for the lack of wine, Platters not yet having a licence, she sighed with relief. At least she needn't worry about keeping her head from drinking wine, whatever else might keep her from thinking straight.

When the waitress had taken their order, Roz leaned forward. ‘I didn't know we were coming anywhere like this,' she whispered. ‘I mean, it's grander than I thought.'

‘Only the best for you, Roz,' Jamie said cheerfully.

‘But it's expensive, eh?'

‘It's not too bad. It's not exactly your Caledonian, or the North British Hotel. As I say, Alan and I come here sometimes when we feel like a change from getting our own meals.' Jamie reached over and touched her hand. ‘Don't worry about it, anyway.'

‘But we could still see somebody from Tarrel's here, I should think. And you didn't want that.'

‘They won't come here – it's not their sort of place. Can't see John Wray or Tony Newman liking hanging baskets, or Mr Banks either, for that matter.'

‘I just wish we didn't have to worry.'

‘Look, we needn't worry.' His eyes were serious. ‘The thing is, we're together, having a lovely meal – or will be when it comes – and what could be better than that? Just relax and enjoy the evening.'

Still troubled, her smile was reluctant, but gradually, as she looked across at Jamie and realized how much she wanted to be with him, she did relax and the smile became genuine, even radiant.

‘That's more like it,' Jamie said with relief. ‘No more “ifs” and “buts”, eh?'

‘I'll do my best.'

Their food came and was good, as Jamie had said it would be, and as they ate and talked, Roz's misgivings finally left her and she found herself at ease.

‘You know what, Jamie, tonight is the time to talk about you, eh? The other day it was all me, but I want to know about you. So, tell me!'

‘As I said, you know all about me already. Where I come from, who my parents were, what I like to do.' He shrugged. ‘What else is there to say?'

‘Well, I don't really know what you like to do, apart from work. I mean, what is there to do in Kelder?'

‘Precious little! You have to go into Berwick for entertainment – and that's a wonderful place, full of history and so on, but not exactly buzzing with night life, you might say. What do I like?' He twirled his glass of soft drink. ‘I like to walk, go to the cinema when I can, photography – look, I told you I was a pretty uninteresting fellow. Can we stop this interrogation now?' he added, jokingly.

‘Who do you walk with?' she pressed on. ‘Have you a lot of friends in Kelder?'

‘Sure,' he answered readily. ‘Fellows I went to school with, people I worked with …'

The waitress appeared to take their plates. ‘Like a sweet?' she asked. ‘There's castle pudding or apple tart.'

They chose apple tart and, when the waitress had left them, Roz, fiddling with her spoon, asked, ‘Jamie, how about girls?'

‘Girls? You mean, girls in my life?' He gave a disarming smile. ‘The answer's yes. At my age, it'd be unlikely that there wouldn't have been one or two.'

‘I see,' she said quietly.

‘You're younger than I am, of course, but there must have been some fellows for you, Roz. Am I right?'

‘None that meant anything to me.'

‘Well, there you are. All in the past. Why don't we talk about the present? Guess what I'm going to do?'

‘Two apple tarts,' interrupted the waitress. ‘With custard, I'm afraid – there's no cream.'

‘What are you going to do, then?' asked Roz, beginning to eat.

‘Buy a car,' he told her, taking pleasure in seeing her eyes widen. ‘Second hand, of course – there aren't many new ones about as yet and they're hard to get – but it'd make all the difference to me to have my own wheels. Everything'd be so much easier, you see. Why, I might even use it at work, if they'd give me a petrol allowance. That old Hillman's not going to last much longer but I don't see old Banks replacing it in a hurry.'

‘You're going to buy a car,' Roz repeated, her eyes alight. ‘That would be wonderful, Jamie – if you can afford it.'

‘I've enough. And I won't be going for a Jaguar or a Humber, or anything like that. It'll be something small and easy to run. The sort you could learn on, Roz. It's time you learned to drive.'

‘That's what Mr MacKenna told me. He said it would be useful. I thought lessons would be too expensive.'

‘Driving school lessons? Sure, but you'd have me. I can teach you.'

‘Would you?'

‘You bet. As soon as I get the car. I'm already looking at adverts – I might even try auctions.' Jamie laughed. ‘What I need is a sale from one careful lady owner! And remember to take that description with a large pinch of salt.'

It was still warm and very light when they left the restaurant, the June evening being only a little while after the longest day, and they walked slowly, enjoying the air.

‘Isn't this what they call white night time?' Jamie asked, taking Roz's hand. ‘You know, in places like Shetland it never gets dark at all at this time of year.'

‘I've heard that. Sometimes I wonder if it will ever get dark here.'

‘Nice for most people. But perhaps not lovers, who prefer the dark.'

Roz gave Jamie a quick glance. ‘I like it like this. We get enough dark nights in winter.'

‘True,' he said easily. ‘But what are we going to do now? I wish I could have shown you my flat, but Alan will be there, working on some plans. He's an architect.'

‘I think I'd better make for my tram anyway,' she said quickly.

‘Not by yourself,' he said firmly. ‘I'm taking you home tonight. Don't say there's no need. You surely don't want to say goodnight yet, do you?'

Her eyes rested on him again. ‘No, I don't, Jamie, it's been so nice. I do appreciate it all, you know that.'

‘My pleasure, Roz. Now, which tram do we get?'

‘If we walk up to Melville Drive we can get one for St Leonard's.'

‘Could always get a taxi?'

‘A taxi? Don't be silly. You've spent enough.'

‘I quite like trams,' he said thoughtfully when they reached the stop. ‘They're a bit of a novelty to me, you see. We don't have them in Kelder.'

‘No novelty to me,' Roz laughed. ‘I seem to have spent half my life on trams, or else at tram stops.'

‘And now you're at another stop. But here comes a tram – will that one do, Roz?'

‘That'll do. And look, I've got the coppers for the fare. It would have cost us at least a shilling for a taxi.'

Holding hands, they were quiet on the tram and also when they left it, until they reached Deller Street, where they stood outside Roz's home and she told him that that was where she lived.

‘It's very nice, Roz. Not old, but attractive.'

‘Has no quality, we'd never claim it had.'

‘Never mind, I like it. Listen, you're not going straight in, are you?'

‘Ma and my sister will be at home. You could come in, if you like.'

‘Well, maybe not tonight.' Jamie looked around. ‘Still not even dusk! Oh, Roz, I don't want to leave you – isn't there somewhere we can go?'