Dreams to Sell (4 page)

‘I'm sorry, Miss Rainey – Roz. Maybe there'll be a change …'

A change? There had come a change already, in his using her first name, something unheard of between lawyers and assistants. Oh, but didn't it signal the end of their working relationship, then? He'd never have used it, even for what was probably a one-off time, if he wasn't leaving. Probably he was going pretty soon.

‘I'm not hopeful,' she said quietly. ‘When do you leave, then?'

‘Advertisements are going out tomorrow for my replacement, but it will probably be sometime in May before he can start. I've agreed to stay until then, so that I can show him the ropes.'

‘And not leave a gap with only me in the property department?'

He gave a quick smile. ‘Ah, you're a sharp one. Yes, I suppose that was what Mr Banks was thinking. But let me stress that the new man – or, of course, it could be a woman – is going to find you very useful. I don't mind telling you, I've considered myself fortunate to have you for an assistant.'

‘It's nice of you to say so.' She hesitated. ‘You don't really think it might be a woman, do you?'

Mr MacKenna shrugged. ‘Well, it's possible. But not likely for Tarrel's, I agree. Now, we'd better get back. Hope I haven't worried you too much with my news?'

‘I'm just trying to get used to it. The thing is, no one's said a word – was it only Norma and me who didn't know?'

‘I'm sorry, I've been wanting to tell you for some time but Mr Banks said he'd rather I waited till the advertisement went out. Of course, my colleagues had to know as they were asked if they wanted my job, and Miss Calder had to do the advert.'

‘Doesn't matter,' Roz said stiffly. ‘Gave me less time to think about it, eh?'

‘Look, I really did want you to know,' he said quickly, driving on to park near the office. ‘But I'm very glad you know now and can look forward to meeting the new person soon.'

She only wished that that were true.

Her mother and Chrissie being on late shift at the café that evening, it was Roz's job to prepare tea for her brother and herself. Full of her own problems as she was, it did seem to her, as she fried the fish they were to have, that Dougal seemed a bit on edge. Walking around, picking up the evening paper, putting it down, not yet washed and changed out of his overalls, which was his usual practice when he came home – what was on his mind, then?

‘Nothing!' he fired up when she commented. ‘Why'd there be anything on my mind? You're the one looking like a thundercloud, eh?'

‘I'm not! What are you talking about? Look, why don't you go and change? This fish'll be ready soon.'

Grumbling over her bossiness, he did as she asked, hurrying along to the bathroom and returning in jumper and flannels – his face scrubbed, his hair damp.

‘This do?' he asked shortly.

‘Fine. I'm just going to dish up.'

Over the meal they were both silent, but when Roz had cleared away and made some tea she admitted to Dougal that she was feeling a bit low.

‘The fact is, my boss is leaving and I'm worried. I mean, I don't know who'll get his job and it might be someone awful.'

‘Mr MacKenna is leaving? Och, that's a shame,' said Dougal, stirring his tea. ‘You've always said he was a nice guy, eh? Why's he going?'

‘Got a partnership in Aberdeen, where his wife is from and wants to go back to.' Roz shrugged. ‘So, that leaves me waiting to see what sort of chap I'll have to work with, and that's pretty important to me.'

‘Should think you'd be better off just getting wed. Then you needn't worry about working. That's where you lassies score over us poor men.'

‘Honestly, what a thing to say!' Roz cried hotly. ‘Get wed? Who to? But is that all you think matters to women? We've as much right to work as men and we want to, that's the point. Look at how women worked so well during the war—'

‘Oh, spare us the lecture,' Dougal groaned. He finished his tea and stood up. ‘Look, I'm off out till Ma comes in – just for a pint at the pub, OK?'

‘Leaving me with the washing up, of course. I've been working all day as well, you know.'

Roz faced her brother with flashing eyes, but as he shrugged himself into his jacket without speaking, she took a step towards him.

‘Listen, there is something up with you, I can tell. And I wish you'd tell me what it is. Maybe I can help?'

He shook his head. ‘There's nothing wrong. It's just – well, I'll be able to tell you later. When Ma comes in.'

‘You're not going to upset her?' Roz asked anxiously.

‘No, well, I don't see why I should. See you later, eh?'

Washing up and tidying the living room, Roz, left alone, felt doubly depressed. It had been bad enough just having Mr MacKenna's departure to worry about, without having to worry about Dougal as well. And it was true, she was worried about him. Though he could often irritate her, airing his opinions, she was fond of him and didn't like to think of his having something on his mind, especially as he was one who always seemed as though he hadn't a care in the world.

There was the added fear that if he was planning to speak to Ma, what he said might not suit, and it was always so necessary to try to make sure that that didn't happen. Even carefree Dougal knew that, but Roz had the feeling now that whatever he wanted to say, he was going to say it anyway.

Not that she could do much about the situation. Better just have a fun evening at home until her family returned, listening to the wireless, tackling that great pile of stockings she'd saved up for mending … By which time, Dougal's pint at the pub might have changed his mind about what he wanted to do. She could but hope.

They all came in together: Flo, looking tired, Chrissie, flushed and seeming excited, and Dougal expressionless, keeping in the background.

‘Oh, dear Lord, it there any tea going?' asked Flo, throwing her coat aside and sinking into a chair. ‘I'm worn out, so I am.'

‘Ma, I've told you there's no need for you to do those late shifts,' Roz told her as she lit the gas under the kettle. ‘You should just be going part time – the manageress said you could, didn't she?'

‘I need the money,' Flo said flatly. ‘And I'm all right – just want a cup o' tea and a ciggy.' Scrabbling in her bag, she found her cigarettes and lit one immediately, before lying back with her eyes closed. ‘Och, that's good, eh? That'll do the trick, you'll see.'

‘Ma, never mind about your ciggies – what about my news?' asked Chrissie. ‘Listen, Roz, I've had such a piece o' luck! This guy I've had my eye on for a week or two has asked me out, and he's a dream boat, I'm telling you! So handsome, isn't he, Ma? And striking. She's seen him, thinks he's grand. A perfect gentleman.'

‘A perfect gentleman,' Flo agreed, sitting up and opening her eyes as the smoke of her cigarette rose past her head. ‘Works in a bank, very smart, very polite. I could see he was taken with Chrissie, but he's maybe shy – he's only just got round to speaking to her, but now she's meeting him on Friday night. That right, Chrissie?'

‘My night off,' Chrissie answered dreamily. ‘He's going to meet me from work and we're going to the pictures.'

‘What's on?' asked Dougal, taking a chair and flinging out his long legs, as Roz made the tea and set out some dreary-looking cake and biscuits.

‘No idea,' Chrissie answered. ‘Richard said he'd see what there was and we could choose when we met. I don't care – he's all I want to see, anyway.'

‘Richard?' Roz raised her eyebrows. ‘Not Dick? What's his other name?'

‘Vincent. And he likes his full name.' Chrissie took a piece of the cake. ‘Ugh, bet this tastes of sawdust, eh? Ma and me had eggs on toast at the café, but I'm still hungry and this doesn't look up to much.'

‘I'll stick with the biscuits,' said Dougal, taking a couple and keeping his eyes on his mother, who said she didn't want anything to eat, just the tea and then she'd be away to her bed.

‘Tea's coming up,' said Roz, watching Dougal as she passed round cups, willing him not to speak. This wasn't the time, Ma was weary, couldn't he leave it till morning? But …

‘Ma, I'd like a word,' he was already saying, as she sipped her tea. ‘Won't take a minute.'

‘A word?' She gazed at him over her cup. ‘What's up, then?'

‘Nothing's up. It's just – well, it's about my future.'

His future? Flo and his sisters stared. His future was all arranged, wasn't it? He had his job with the machine tools firm, so where was the problem? They had already sensed that there was a problem. It hung in the air all around, it caused Chrissie's eyes to widen, Roz's gaze to fall and Flo's to narrow as she drew on the last of her cigarette.

‘What about your future?' she asked at last. ‘I thought we'd got it all settled. You'd be qualified when you'd finished your training and have a good job for life. Seems like a fine future to me.'

‘Thing is,' Dougal answered eagerly, ‘I don't want it. That good job – no thanks! I mean, think about it – stuck in the same place, doing the same work, day after day, never seeing anything new … I couldn't stand it, and that's the truth.'

‘Dougal, Dougal, what sort o' folk do you think we are?' Flo cried. ‘We have to take what we can get and settle for it. There's no question of having the luxury of going around, seeing different things, whatever takes your fancy. If you've got a regular wage to look forward to, you thank your lucky stars and get on with the job and stop complaining!'

‘Ma, why'd we have to take what we can get?' Roz asked. ‘I don't agree at all. Everyone's a right to do the best they can for themselves. We've only got one life, remember.'

‘No, Roz, Ma's right,' Chrissie countered. ‘Dougal's lucky to have the chance of a good steady job and he should stick with it. Think what Ma told us about the thirties – folk'd have given anything for work then!'

‘Well, it's not the thirties now and I'm damned if I'm going to settle for something I don't want!' Dougal retorted. ‘And the point is, I don't have to. I've got another job lined up and it's ideal. Just what I've been looking for, so don't tell me what I have to do when you know nothing about it!'

‘What job are you talking about?' demanded Flo. ‘What's this ideal thing you've got lined up, then?'

At that, Dougal drew back in his chair, his eyes losing their fire, his look subdued.

‘I'd like to go back in the army,' he said in a low voice. ‘Not the Engineers where I did my national service, I want to join the Lowland and Borders Regiment, same as Dad. It's all fixed. They want me and I want them. Don't say anything.'

A silence fell when he'd finished, apart from a shuddering sigh from Roz and a gasp from Chrissie. For a long, long moment, Flo made no move at all, then she stubbed out her cigarette and leaned forward to look at her son.

‘Don't say anything?' she repeated. ‘Don't say anything, Dougal? You want to do the one thing that'll be sure to upset me and I'm not supposed to say anything?'

‘Ma, why the fuss?' he asked, almost squirming in his chair. ‘You never complained when I did my national service – what's different?

‘What's different? You know what's different! When you did your service I knew it wasn't your choice and it wouldn't last that long. But to be a regular, that's different, all right. It's the last thing I'd ever want for you, to be a soldier like your dad, in the same regiment, running the same risks. How can you do that to me, Dougal?'

Flo's voice was thickening; there were tears in her eyes as she kept her gaze on her son, but when he attempted to speak again, she waved her hands to quieten him and he fell silent.

‘You know what your dad's death did to me,' she said brokenly, ‘but away you go without a word and offer yourself to the same regiment as your dad, when you know how I'm going to feel, how we'll all feel, and you don't care, eh? You just want what you want and the rest of us can go hang, is that it?'

‘Ma, Dad was a soldier in the war!' Dougal cried desperately. ‘Of course he was at risk – everyone was, and some got killed, as did he. But I'll be going into a peacetime army, there'll be no risk and we'll be doing different things, not fighting battles. I'd never have asked you to worry about me like that, honest, I wouldn't!'

‘No risk?' Flo repeated with a hoarse laugh. ‘In the army and not at risk? You're asking me to believe that? It's a piece o' nonsense and you know it.' She put her hand to her eyes and began to cry in earnest with deep, painful sobs. ‘Oh, how could you do this to me, Dougal, how could you?'

‘Aye, how could you?' cried Chrissie, rising to put her arms around her mother. ‘It's too cruel, so it is!'

‘No, it's not cruel, it's not fair to say that. I've explained to Ma how it is, how I'm just joining a peacetime army that'll be nothing like Dad's. She's no need to take it like she has. You see that, Roz, eh? You understand?'

But Roz's eyes were on her mother, who was now sitting back in her chair, her face quite white as her sobs shook her slight frame and, after a moment, Roz shook her head.

‘Dougal, what you've said should make sense, but you knew how Ma would see it and you didn't even discuss it with her or any of us, just sprang it on her out of the blue. That was unfeeling, whatever you say.'

‘It was just because I knew how she'd be. I knew she'd be so upset that I'd never get away.' Dougal ran his hand over his face. ‘We're people too, Roz. We're entitled to lead our own lives, and I'm going to lead mine.'