Monday Girl (18 page)

Renee’s spirits had reached a new low ebb by the time she entered the office, and her pale face and dejected manner prompted Sheila Daun to ask, ‘What’s up? You don’t look very happy with yourself.’

‘Fergus goes away today. He joined the army.’ It took a great effort to talk about it.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. He’s the one you liked best, isn’t he? But don’t be so upset about it, he’ll be back when he’s on leave, and he’ll write to you to let you know how he’s doing.’

Renee wanted to say, ‘He can’t write, and he’ll never be back, so I’ll never know what he’s doing,’ but it was impossible without going into long explanations which would shock and disgust the other girl. She tried to apply herself to her work, but her mind kept returning to the house in Cattofield, and what might be going on there. During their mid-morning teabreak, Sheila tried to cheer her up, but it wasn’t until after twelve that Renee relaxed, with a guilty sense of relief that Fergus would have departed from Aberdeen altogether.

She made no mention of him at lunchtime, and neither did Anne. They spoke about Mike and Babs, about a possible romance springing up between Tim and Babs’s sister Moira, about the celebration of the evening before, about anything except the person who was uppermost in their minds, and who had caused them both so much happiness and pain. When she returned to work, Renee still knew nothing of his ultimate leave-taking, but the great weight which had been pressing on her all forenoon had lifted. It was all over – the doubts, the suspicions – for ever, because he’d never be allowed to come back to the house now he’d left it.

Only the love and heartache would remain to haunt her.

 
Chapter Twelve

The arrangements for his wedding were all that Mike Donaldson could talk about. ‘We can’t afford a big do, and Babs’s mother’s a widow like you, Mrs Gordon, so there’ll just be the four of us at the kirk, then we’re going back to her house for a meal. She wanted to do that much for us, at least.’

‘Where are you going for your honeymoon?’ Renee had romantic ideas of a bridal suite in a luxury hotel somewhere.

‘That’s another thing we can’t afford,’ he said, ruefully.

‘I’m going to ask my folks this weekend if they’ll let us spend our wedding night there. You see, I’d my holidays in the Trade’s Week in July, when the yard was closed, so I’m only having the Saturday forenoon off, and I’ve to start on the Monday.’

Renee felt very sorry for Babs, being denied a proper honeymoon, but perhaps she’d be happy enough just being in Turriff with Mike as his wife. As Anne had said, he was a decent man and he’d be a considerate husband.

On the Thursday after Fergus left, Jack and Tim succeeded, after much persuasion, in coaxing Renee to go to the Tivoli with them. ‘It’s variety,’ Tim told her. ‘You’ll enjoy it.’

Anne put in her tuppence-worth. ‘Oh, yes, Renee, your dad used to take me there, years ago, and it’s different from the pictures, completely different.’

‘Music-hall turns,’ added Jack. The girl reluctantly agreed to go, for she knew that Tim and Jack were doing their best to keep her mind off Fergus, and she was grateful that they had not fixed the outing for a Monday.

The Tivoli was in Guild Street, on the opposite side from the railway station, and on the bus going into town they told her about some of the famous acts which had appeared there in the past. The bus stop was quite a distance from the theatre, but they walked down Bridge Street and joined the queue which had already formed.

‘We can only afford the gods,’ Tim remarked. ‘But it’s not that bad.’ They reached their seats by climbing up a spiral staircase, up and up and up, until Renee thought they must surely go through the roof of the building, and she experienced a surge of vertigo when she stood at the top of the steep steps between the rows of seats inside the actual balcony. It was like looking down a near-vertical precipice, and she was afraid to move in case she lost her footing and catapulted right down and over the brass rail at the foot, into the stalls below. But Tim took her hand and went in front of her, while Jack held her waist to steady her from behind, and they descended slowly and carefully.

It was a marvel to the girl that she could hear the tiny performers on the stage so clearly. She laughed uproariously at the comedians, applauded the singers, cheered the acrobats and magicians, and was enthralled by the trapeze artists.

Going out wasn’t nearly so bad but she did have one moment of panic when they were going down the spiral staircase, because the people behind seemed to be pushing and jostling. Jack understood the fear in her eyes when she turned round. ‘It’s OK, Renee. Just keep holding on to the banisters and you’ll be fine.’

When they reached the street, she let her breath out noisily, making the other two roar with laughter. ‘That’s the nearest you’ll ever get to heaven,’ joked Tim.

The following Thursday they took her to His Majesty’s Theatre, another first for Renee, where a repertory company was presenting a musical comedy. Once again, they went to the balcony, and had to pass the main entrance, where the patrons were flocking in for the upper and dress circles, the orchestra stalls and the boxes.

‘I’d love to sit in a box, just once,’ she remarked after they were seated, and she’d had time to look around her. The occupants of the lower box at the opposite side appeared to be very wealthy, the men wearing evening suits and the ladies with fur coats draped over the backs of their seats.

‘Are they dear?’

Winking to Jack, Tim said, ‘Aye, the boxes are pretty dear, and you’ve to be wearing a fur coat before you’re allowed in.’

‘Stop pulling her leg.’ Jack had seen the envy in her eyes, and felt sorry for her. ‘You don’t need a fur coat, Renee, but the seats are dear. If I ever win the pools, I’ll take you to a box in His Majesty’s, and that’s a promise.’ They all giggled, knowing that there was less than a million-to-one chance of such a thing ever happening.

The velvet drapes opened and the orchestra in the pit began to play while Renee read all the advertisements on the safety curtain, until it rose slowly to reveal a drawing-room scene. She sat on the edge of her seat, engrossed in the tale being unfolded by the actors and actresses, and was completely transported to the opulent world of No
ë
l Coward.

The following morning, Renee was telling Sheila Daun about her theatre visit when Mr Murchie came out of his office, and they stopped speaking as he strode purposefully towards them.

‘I’ve just received a memo from head office, girls. They’ve cancelled the rule about RSA. certificates being compulsory, so you won’t need to enrol for evening classes this session. Apparently with the war on there may not be sufficient teachers in some parts of Britain to cover the syllabus for all the courses. You will be pleased to know, however, that the salary scale will remain as it is – increments each year until you reach the maximum.’

Sheila was delighted. She had already passed the elementary and intermediate, but had been dreading the advanced. Renee felt only a great relief at not having to attend the grammar school during the coming winter. It would have been awful to come out and have no Fergus waiting for her. It was bad enough as it was, with not knowing what he was doing.

Mr Murchie had walked away, so Sheila nudged her. ‘Go on telling me about the play, Renee. It sounded good.’

‘It was, oh, it really was, and it was so well acted that you forgot you were only in a theatre. You thought you were actually there, in that drawing room with them.’ She sighed.

‘I wish I could have been an actress. I loved being in school plays, and the teachers said I was a natural.’ Which probably explained her ability to tell lies so easily, she reflected sadly.

On the Thursday before Mike’s wedding, they all went to the Palais. The prospective bride and groom looked so deliriously happy that Renee felt like crying. Babs had taken her sister along to meet Mike’s brother before they had to stand up as best man and bridesmaid in the church, and Renee noticed, later that evening, that Moira and Tim also had eyes only for each other. Love at first sight, obviously.

Jack, who was dancing with her, heard her long drawn-out sigh, and followed her gaze. ‘It looks like you’ll have to put up with just me from now on, I’m afraid.’

‘There’s no need to sound so sorry about it, I don’t mind being with you.’ Her eyes were frank as they met his, because she could be alone with him if she wanted, now.

‘Great!’ He twirled her a complete circle, and partnered her for the rest of the evening.

At the opening bars of the last waltz, Tim appeared beside them, with Moira held by the hand. ‘I’m seeing Moira home, Jack. You’ll manage to take Renee on your own, won’t you?’ Renee didn’t miss the wink he aimed at Jack, who replied, with mock-seriousness, ‘I think I might just manage that.’

‘We’re leaving now,’ Tim went on, ‘because Moira doesn’t want to be too late.’

‘Oh, aye?’ Jack’s eyes twinkled as the other couple walked away. ‘They don’t want to go home in a foursome with Mike and Babs, that’s what it is,’ he said, confidentially.

‘I don’t suppose Mike and Babs want them tagging along either.’ Renee felt quite at home as Jack’s arms went round her for the last dance. The lights dimmed slowly, and he hugged her tightly.

‘Are you disappointed about Tim?’

‘No. Why should I be disappointed?’

‘I thought you liked him better than me.’

‘You’re just fishing, Jack Thomson. I like Tim, but I like you just as much.’

‘But you still like Fergus best, is that it?’

‘Fergus is away now,’ she said carefully, wishing that he hadn’t reminded her.

‘Aye, but he’ll be back when he’s on leave, for he doesn’t speak to his folk – or they don’t speak to him – and your house is his only home now.’ Renee remembered then that Jack was unaware of the true reason for Fergus joining up, and of the fact that he had made it impossible for himself ever to come back to their house. She could see that Jack took her silence to mean that she did still love Fergus, but she couldn’t explain.

‘I’ve been thinking I’ll maybe join up as well,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘There’s nothing much for me in Aberdeen.’

‘Oh, no, Jack!’ She found that she
did
like him, very much, even if the feeling wasn’t quite deep enough to be called love, and she certainly hated the thought of him leaving.

‘Would you care if I went away?’ he asked softly, encouraged by her reaction.

‘Of course I’d care.’ He seemed pleased with that, and they ended the dance with a big whirl, then said their goodbyes to Mike and Babs.

On the walk home, and in the middle of her telling him about a slight difference of opinion between Mr Murchie and Miss Esson, Jack said, out of the blue, ‘I care about you, Renee. Quite a lot.’ He kept on walking, his arm linked with hers, but his head still turned to the front.

‘Oh.’ It was all she could say, although she’d suspected it for some time, and they carried on in silence for a while.

Then he stopped abruptly and kissed her, a kiss which she returned with a fervour that surprised her.

It also surprised Jack. ‘I’ll keep on hoping you’ll learn to care for me properly, Renee,’ he said, but he dropped his arms and began walking again.

She noticed that he had avoided mentioning love, and was very grateful to him. It would have been far too soon. Before they went into the house, he kissed her again. ‘If Tim’s to be going steady with Moira, will you still come out with me on Thursdays?’

‘I think I could just force myself,’ she teased, not to give him the opportunity of becoming serious.

‘That’s a step in the right direction, anyway.’ He took her hand and they went inside.

‘Mum! Why are you still up?’

Anne was sitting in front of the almost black-out fire. ‘I couldn’t settle to go to bed. I wanted to know how you all got on, and what kind of girl Babs’s sister is.’ She shifted the cups on the card table, showing how guilty she felt about being so inquisitive.

Jack beamed. ‘We all got on fine, and Moira Sandison’s a very nice girl.’

‘She’s as blonde as Tim, and a wee bit smaller,’ Renee added.

Anne looked expectantly at her daughter, but no more information seemed to be forthcoming. ‘Tim didn’t come home with you, I see?’

Renee burst out laughing. ‘No, you were right. He fell for her, hook, line and sinker, and took her home before the dance was finished.’

Anne looked satisfied. ‘I just thought that would happen,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Brothers often marry sisters, and romance must be in the air. The love bug’ll bite you two next, no doubt.’ She looked at them archly. Jack turned red, proving to her that she was on the right track, but Renee said, ‘Oh, Mum!’ in an annoyed voice, so Anne let the matter drop.

Saturday was wet, but the Gordons went to John Knox Church at a quarter to two, to watch the bride and groom arriving with their attendants. Jack had felt obliged to go home to see his mother because she hadn’t been very well, and had expressed great disappointment at being unable to be with them.

The heavy rain hadn’t dampened the high spirits of Babs and Mike, nor those of Moira and Tim, who were completely wrapped up in each other. The two spectators sheltered in a doorway until the bridal party re-emerged, then Anne showered the happy pair with confetti, while Renee went up to Tim and whispered, ‘Your turn next,’ before emptying her carton over him and the bridesmaid. Moira blushed, but Tim seemed rather put out.

When a taxi took the wedding group away, Renee and her mother waved until they were out of sight, then turned to go home.

‘I don’t think it’ll be that long before Tim asks Moira to marry him,’ Anne remarked on the bus. ‘They looked head over heels in love.’

‘I believe they are, but Tim didn’t seem to like the idea when I told him that it would be their turn next. They made a nice couple, though.’

‘Jack and you made a nice couple when you came home on Thursday night,’ Anne said carefully, waiting for the flat denial she expected her daughter to make, or the flare-up which might be her answer.