Monday Girl (27 page)

‘That was very kind of you.’ Anne held her wrapper together as she shook hands with the broad six-footer, but there was no real warmth in her manner.

‘I’m very pleased to meet Renee’s mother.’ Fred held her hand for a little longer than was necessary.

This did not escape the girl, and she realised suddenly that he was old enough to be her father, a thought which had not occurred to her before.

‘I’ve to go back to the Torry Battery.’ Fred carried on the explanation for the girl. ‘Renee was kind enough to invite me in for a wee while.’ He imitated her again and smiled.

‘For a cup of tea and a rest,’ she giggled. ‘I’ll go and make some fresh, Mum.’

‘All right, and pour that out.’ Anne handed her the flask which had been sitting on the card table. ‘I’m sorry, Sergeant . . . er . . . Schaper . . .’

‘Please call me Fred.’

‘I’m sorry I’m not presentable, but I was waiting up for Renee because . . .’

‘Because of the air-raid warning?’ he interrupted. ‘I quite understand, and don’t worry about how you look. It’s quite comforting to see a woman in curlers again.’

‘Fred’s a widower,’ Renee said, coming back from the scullery. She felt happier calling him by his first name now that they were no longer alone.

‘It wasn’t just the air-raid warning that made me stay up,’ Anne said slowly. ‘You weren’t home at teatime, Renee, so I couldn’t tell you before. I’d a letter from Lena Scroggie, Bill’s wife, by the second post today.’

‘That’s good. Did Bill write and tell her he’d been here?’ Renee’s face sobered when her mother shook her head. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘He’s been killed, Renee.’

‘Oh, no! Not Bill! He was so full of life and . . . they were planning to have a big family after the war. Oh, Mum! How can things like that happen? Lena must be . . .’ She stopped, too upset by the tragic news to say any more.

‘Is this Bill a relative?’ Fred asked gently, seeing how much the two women had been affected by the man’s death.

‘No, he used to lodge here before he was married, then they emigrated to Canada.’ Anne’s voice trembled. ‘We never heard from them after they left at the beginning of

1937 – they’d a pretty rough time of it, apparently – then we had a visit from him about two or three months ago, over here with the Canadian Air Force.’ She gulped.

‘I’m very sorry.’ His eyes were full of compassion.

Anne turned to her daughter again. ‘Lena thanked us for being so good to Bill when he was here. He’d written to tell her he’d spent a few days with us, and . . . I’m sorry, Sergeant . . . er . . . Fred, but I’m really upset about it. I shouldn’t have told Renee in front of you, though, but I couldn’t keep it in any longer.’ Anne wiped her eyes.

‘I’d better go. I don’t want to intrude on you at a time like this.’ He made to stand up.

Anne held up her hand. ‘No, no. Please stay. I’m all right now. It was just . . . coming so soon after we’d seen him, and . . . Renee, that kettle must be boiling by now. I think we could all do with a cup of tea.’

The girl went to fill the teapot, and her mother looked at the man kindly. ‘What time do you have to be back . . . Fred? You’re going to be very late.’

‘This was my day off, and I don’t have to report for duty until eleven tomorrow forenoon, so I can have a lie-in if I like.’

Anne hesitated, then said, ‘Look, it’s nearly midnight, and if you don’t mind roughing it, you could sleep on that bed-settee, and you’d get a bus in the morning.’

Renee, coming in with the loaded tray, heard the surprising offer, and wondered if her mother had taken leave of her senses, letting a perfect stranger stay the night.

Fred, however, showed no astonishment, but accepted calmly and gracefully. ‘Thank you, Mrs Gordon. I’m used to roughing it after over twenty years in the army, but I’m sure the settee is very comfortable. I am quite prepared to hoof it, though.’

‘I can’t let you walk all that way tonight, when you’ve been so kind to Renee. And please call me Anne. It seems silly me saying Fred, and you saying Mrs Gordon.’

He beamed. ‘Right, Anne. You have another lodger tonight.’

They drank their tea, then Anne said, ‘I think we’d better be going to bed, Renee. Get the spare sheets and things from the cupboard upstairs, and I’ll make up the settee.’

‘Let me do that, Anne.’ Fred jumped up and removed the two small cushions before he swung the upholstered mechanism up and out in one easy movement.

‘You won’t have to worry about getting up early,’ Anne told him. ‘Nobody comes in here in the morning except me coming through to make the breakfast, and the house’ll be cleared by half past eight, that’s when Renee leaves. The other girls go out at half past seven.’

‘Righto. Thanks.’ Fred took the bedclothes from Renee when she came in. ‘I’ll manage now. Off to bed, the pair of you.’

In their bedroom, Anne said, ‘Where did you meet him? He seems very nice, but he’s rather old for you, don’t you think?’

‘It was quite funny, really. Sheila and I went in for a milk shake after we came out of the pictures, and the place was nearly full up, so a sailor came and sat next to her, and Fred sat down next to me. They were chatting each other up, so he started speaking to me. I suppose he was sorry for me, being left out, if you see what I mean. Then Sheila said the sailor was taking her home, and Fred offered to take me. I was a bit worried about walking on my own with the warning on, so I let him. That’s all.’

‘He’s a fast worker, isn’t he?’

Her mother’s tone was so critical that Renee replied sharply,

‘He wasn’t working at anything, Mum. He’s a widower with a son of twenty and a daughter about the same age as me, and he didn’t like the idea of me going home by myself.’ Her voice softened. ‘He said it was like having his daughter with him again. There was nothing more than that in it.’

Anne smiled. ‘I’m glad. We’d better settle down, or else we’ll all be lying in tomorrow.’

In the morning, Renee and her mother took a second cup of tea after the other girls went out. Anne stretched over for the milk jug. ‘Your Fred’s sleeping like a baby. He must have been very tired. I’m glad I let him stay the night.’

‘He’s not my Fred. He’s old enough to be my father.’

‘That’s funny. That’s what I thought when I saw him first. I don’t know what he must have thought of me in that old dressing-gown and curlers.’

‘Does it matter?’ Renee gulped the last of her tea. ‘You’ll never see him again, I shouldn’t think.’

‘No, of course not.’

As Renee was putting on her coat in the hall, Fred came out of the living room with only his trousers on, his hair, greying at the temples, standing up in tousled spikes. ‘I meant to be up ages ago, but . . . I’m sorry, Mrs . . . er . . . Anne.’

She laughed. ‘You were sound asleep when I was wandering in and out.’

‘I needn’t bother asking if you slept all right,’ Renee remarked, picking up her handbag. ‘I have to go. Cheerio, Fred, and thanks again for seeing me home.’

‘It was my pleasure.’ He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. ‘I’ll be off shortly myself, as soon as I give myself a wash.’

‘I think there’s a razor of Tim’s or Jack’s still lying in the bathroom cabinet, Fred, and you can’t go without some breakfast,’ Anne was saying as Renee went out.

When she reached the office, Sheila Daun’s first remark made her giggle. ‘Thank goodness you look normal. I wondered if I should leave you alone with that old sergeant, in case he asked to take you home then tried to get fresh.’

‘He did take me home, but he didn’t get fresh,’ Renee told her. ‘He stayed all night on our settee, as a matter of fact, and I’ve left him at home with Mum. He’s more her age than mine.’

The other girl was rather disconcerted by this information, but, after considering it for a moment, she thought of another question. ‘Would you mind if he took a fancy to your mum?’

‘No, of course I wouldn’t. It’s time she had some fun.’ Renee remembered that she had minded, a long time ago, when her mother had tried to have some fun, but . . . that was different. ‘It was a good thing he came in with me really,’ she went on, ‘because Mum had been waiting up to tell me that Bill Scroggie had been killed. Remember, I told you about him coming to see us – the one who’s in the Canadian Air Force?’

‘Oh, that’s terrible. Coming all that way, just to be killed? It makes you realise that the war affects people all over the world. You don’t think about it like that when you’re having fun with the boys in the forces, do you?’

‘No . . . but Fred being there stopped us from brooding about it.’

When she went home at lunchtime, she felt an electricity in the air, a sense of excitement emanating from her mother, so she asked, ‘How did you get on with Fred, Mum? Did he get away all right?’

Anne concentrated on ladling out the soup. ‘Yes, he left at ten o’clock. He’s a real gentleman, isn’t he? Very correct, and he thanked me for my hospitality, and even offered to pay me. Of course, I didn’t take anything.’

‘So that’s another little episode over?’ Renee couldn’t resist voicing it as a question, because she suspected that there was something her mother wasn’t telling her.

‘He was sympathising again about Bill,’ Anne went on, still avoiding her daughter’s eyes, ‘and he was so nice about . . . everything, that I’ve invited him to come to tea on Sunday.’

‘It’s you that’s turned out to be the fast worker, Mum.’ The girl was quite taken aback. She hadn’t expected this.

‘I felt sorry for him, Renee, and after what’s happened to Bill, I felt I’d like to show someone else a bit of kindness, just in case . . .’

‘Don’t think things like that. But it was a good idea to ask him back. What did he say?’

‘He was delighted.’

‘So, you’re doing your little bit to help the war effort? Comforts for the troops, eh? I didn’t know you were intending to do that.’ Renee was enjoying teasing her mother.

‘You take lonely boys home sometimes, and it’s the same thing, isn’t it?’ Anne sounded slightly guilty.

‘I suppose so.’ Renee’s mood had changed with the speed of lightning. ‘It was awful about Bill. I feel really sorry for Lena. Just after they’d begun to build a decent life for themselves, and . . . if she’d had any children to remember him by, it wouldn’t seem so bad.’

‘It’s maybe better that there aren’t any children,’ Anne mused. ‘It leaves Lena free to marry again, with no encumbrances, if she ever feels like it.’

Renee was quiet for a moment. ‘Mum, would you ever marry again, if you met somebody you really liked?’

‘Don’t speak rubbish!’ A pink tinge had suffused Anne’s cheeks, and she changed the subject quickly. ‘Will you be going out tonight?’

‘No, I’ve suddenly thought of something I’d like to do instead.’ The girl smiled mysteriously, but although Anne looked inquisitive, she refrained from putting any questions to her.

Renee returned to work pondering over how she would really feel if her mother ever did want to marry again. It would be all right if it was to someone like Fred Schaper, but there were quite a lot of unscrupulous men about, and she didn’t fancy having a wicked stepfather. Not that Anne ever met any men, but her daughter would have to make sure that it was Fred, and she’d have to be careful not to overdo it and spoil things. Before she went into the office, she went into Boots to buy a home perm. Step number one would be to give her mother a decent hairdo, even if it meant that she, herself, would have to forego at least one evening out, maybe more, because of the money she was spending.

That night, Anne protested all through the operation.

‘I’m not really needing this, you know. My hair would have been fine the way it was.’ But Renee could see that she was pleased with the finished result, and kept glancing in the mirror to admire her beautifully curled tresses.

‘It’s a bit tight just now, but it’ll loosen out by Sunday,’

she told her mother.

On Saturday at lunchtime, she came home carrying a large paper bag. ‘It’s an early birthday present, Mum,’ she said when she handed it over. ‘I thought you could wear it with your grey tweed skirt on Sunday. I bought it in Falconer’s and they said they’d change it if it didn’t fit, so you’d better try it on now.’

‘You shouldn’t spend your money on me like this.’ Anne opened the bag carefully, and drew out a pale lilac twinset.

‘Oh, it’s lovely.’ She ran her hand sensuously over the soft pure wool. ‘Thank you very much.’

The short-sleeved jumper and matching cardigan fitted her perfectly. ‘Fred’ll think I’m setting my cap at him with all this tittivating,’ Anne remarked self-consciously.

‘He’ll just think you look very nice.’ Renee thought that her mother was looking ten years younger, with her new hairstyle and the pastel shade of the twinset. Fred Schaper couldn’t help but find her attractive.

When they were climbing the stairs to the McIntoshes’ flat that afternoon, Anne glanced at Renee. ‘Don’t tell Granny about Fred,’ she whispered urgently.

‘Why not? There’s nothing wrong about asking him to tea.’

‘I know, but . . . just don’t tell her.’

As usual, Maggie made them very welcome, and, after enquiring about Jack, Tim and Mike, she looked expectantly at her granddaughter. ‘An’ who have ye been meetin’ this week?’

Renee shot her mother a mischievous glance. ‘Well, Sheila Daun got off with a sailor when we went for a milk shake after the pictures, one night, and I was left speaking to a middle-aged Artillery sergeant with two grown-up children.’

‘Oh.’ Maggie showed her disappointment. ‘So ye’d to go hame by yoursel’.’

It wasn’t a question, so Renee smilingly waited a few seconds, to keep her mother in suspense, before she said,

‘How’s Granda?’

‘He’s feelin’ a lot better this week. Nae near so tired.’

‘That’s good.’ Anne had let out the breath which she had been holding in case her daughter said something more about Fred. ‘We’d some bad news this week. Remember I told you we had a visit from Bill Scroggie a wee while ago?’

‘Aye? I used to like him,’ Maggie remarked. ‘It was a shame he’d such a bad time in Canada till he got settled doon.’

‘Yes, it was . . . but Lena wrote to tell us he’d been killed.’ Anne sighed deeply. It was still difficult for her to believe.