Primrose Square (25 page)

‘That's good, I'm glad.'

After another short silence, Elinor asked, ‘How are things with you, then?'

Bettina shrugged. ‘Well, Alfie's joined the Navy, but we got wed before he left, so I'm Mrs Daniels now.'

‘Congratulations – that's very good news.'

‘Yes and no. What sort of married life is it, when you never see your man? And then  . . . did you hear what happened to Georgie? Killed at Le Cateau way back at the beginning of the war. This black I'm wearing is for the poor laddies from Leith, but I feel like wearing it all the time, eh? I see you're in black, too.'

‘Just for today. My dad died lately, but I have to wear uniform at the Primrose Hospital where I'm working.' Elinor hesitated. ‘I'm very sorry to hear about Georgie, very sorry indeed. I hope Barry's all right?'

‘Och, he's fine. In Gallipoli, but will be moving to France, he thinks.' Bettina smiled. ‘Says he'll be playing the piano in the trenches.'

‘Playing the piano?'

‘His wee joke. But I bet he does play football in no-man's-land, eh? I can see him, kicking the ball to the Jerries.' Bettina put out her hand and Elinor shook it. ‘I've to go for ma tram now. Nice to see you, though. Keep in touch.'

‘Yes, we'll do that,' said Elinor, knowing they wouldn't, and went her way, her mind working over Bettina's news. Poor Georgie, then. Always in the shadow of his more talented brother, now not even that. A name on a casualty list, all hopes and prospects gone. Remembered by his sister, though, and perhaps by Barry, too, though he wouldn't be one to dwell on death's sting. He really was just the way he seemed, wasn't he? One who would never have a care in the world, or perhaps would never allow himself to think he had. Certainly he wouldn't be losing any sleep over his broken love affair with herself.

Thank heavens, she was over the pain of losing him. Hadn't lasted long, so her love might never have been as genuine as she'd thought. Perhaps he'd done her a favour, after all, turning her down. The more she thought about what she'd lost – or, more precisely, thrown away – Elinor was ready to believe he had, but knew it wouldn't do her any good. You made mistakes, you paid, that was life's teaching. And she was paying now for what she had done.

Back home with Hessie, however, describing the newly prepared mass grave in the cemetery, Elinor's thoughts moved to the true tragedy of the Gretna Green rail crash. How humble it made her feel, to consider the loss of those young lives and the grief of their families, and compare her own troubles with that sort of loss and suffering. She really should put her worries aside, she decided, and concentrate on doing her work well at the Primrose. Perhaps permit herself to think of the one bright spot on the horizon, which was Brenda's wedding.

Forty-Seven

For days before the wedding, Brenda was so excited, so tensed up, her high spirits spread throughout the Primrose, with everyone wishing her well and keeping their fingers crossed for the bridegroom's safe arrival back home. Though she'd said she would have liked all the staff to see her wed, obviously that wasn't possible and in the end, after a whip-round to buy a crystal salad bowl as a present, Elinor was the only one given permission to attend.

‘You'll no' be wanting to wear your black or grey for a wedding,' Hessie told her. ‘Come on, your dad'd be happy to see you looking your best. How about that sweet pink dress you made yourself? It's July, it'll be hot.'

‘Think it'd do?' Elinor asked doubtfully. ‘It's nothing special.'

‘If you buy a bit of matching ribbon for your hat, I think it'd be grand. There's a war on; nobody'll be expecting you to be dressing up too much.'

‘The pink it is, then,' Elinor agreed and, on a steamy July morning, set off for the kirk near Brenda's home, looking, her mother had said, an absolute picture.

‘Oh, it makes me feel good, to see you dressed like that again,' she'd sighed, pressing a hankie to her eyes as she so often did. ‘As though the sad times have gone, though I know they haven't.'

‘They'll be gone one day, Ma, so cheer up, and I'll maybe bring you a piece of wedding cake back – if Brenda's managed to find one.'

Joining a group of brightly dressed guests outside the kirk, Elinor for a moment felt, like Hessie, that all the sad times had passed. Everyone seemed so happy and light-hearted, that when the bridegroom arrived, looking so smart in his tunic and kilt, his red hair catching the sunlight, quite a little cheer went up, at which Tam gave his old grin, and catching sight of Elinor, turned from entering the church to give her a great hug.

‘My word, Elinor, it's grand to see you! And looking so nice, eh?'

‘You're looking good yourself, Tam. I do believe you're slimmer.'

‘What, with all the bully beef I eat? Hey, I'd better get going, eh?'

‘I'll say,' said John Andrews, one of Tam's friends Elinor remembered and now his best man, wearing similar uniform. ‘Don't want the bride to see you still talking when she arrives. Though who could ever stop you talking?'

As Tam and John entered the church to take up their positions, the guests followed, for time was getting on. Any moment now, the bride would arrive, accompanied by an old family friend to ‘give her away', and a cousin who was her bridesmaid.

For a wartime wedding, it was traditional and expensive, Elinor thought, and was certainly not the sort that could be afforded by anyone she knew in Friar's Wynd. But then she'd always guessed that Brenda's family had money, and if Mrs Cordiner wanted to spend it on her only daughter's great day – why not? Listening to the organ, soaking up the atmosphere, Elinor turned to smile when a latecomer slipped into the seat next to hers. And froze. The fair-haired man in officer's uniform who had just arrived was Stephen Muirhead.

She was not imagining him this time. No, this was the real man, visibly shocked at the sight of her. See his sudden pallor, and how, when her dark eyes met his, he instantly looked away.
Why, it's true, he doesn't want to see me; he doesn't even want to be near me.
Should she move? She couldn't, she would have to pass him. In any case, she felt her limbs so heavy, so unwilling to respond, that she was as still as a statue. Thank God, the organ had struck up the wedding march; the guests were on their feet. Brenda must have arrived.

Somehow, Elinor followed the service. Somehow she noted that Brenda looked radiant in the white dress her mother had made for her, that her bridesmaid was sweet in blue, and Tam so proud he couldn't take his eyes off his bride and sounded out all his responses as though he were ringing a joyful bell. While all the time, Stephen was by Elinor's side, his presence burning into her consciousness, so that she was glad to sit down when the register was being signed and the organ played, wishing with all her heart that the ceremony would end and she could be somewhere else.

It did end, of course, and as soon as the bridal couple had come down the aisle, Stephen moved after them and Elinor was able to follow and mingle with the guests outside.

‘Brenda, you look wonderful!' she cried, as soon as she was able to reach the bride.

‘And you, Elinor, you're beautiful!' Brenda was flushed and smiling as they exchanged hugs. ‘Oh, it's so lovely to have you here.'

‘I wouldn't have missed it for anything,' Elinor declared, and after the bride and groom had been borne away by motor car to a nearby hotel, followed on foot, in company with Pearl, who she remembered from Stephen's class. Some way ahead, she could see Stephen himself, walking with some people she didn't know. And with all her heart, she hoped he wouldn't look back.

‘Is this no' amazing?' Pearl was asking. ‘I mean, that Tam and Brenda would ever get wed? Remember how they used to be? Always striking sparks?'

‘That's the way it goes sometimes.'

‘Aye, you're right. How about you, Elinor? You engaged, or anything?'

‘No. I'm just working at the Primrose Club that's now a convalescent hospital.'

‘And I'm nursing, too. Training full-time at the Northern.' Pearl laughed. ‘All that office stuff I swotted up on for Mr Muirhead has quite gone out of my head! Talking of him, didn't I see him somewhere around?'

‘Yes, he's here,' Elinor replied. ‘Think this is the hotel, eh?'

‘Oh, very grand! Mrs Cordiner's done Brenda proud, eh? This must be costing a bonny penny. Still, what's money these days? Spend it while you can is my motto!'

Drinks were being served in the hotel's pleasant garden, and as Pearl dived away to speak to some people she knew, Elinor stood alone for a moment, looking round at the cheerful guests, thinking how far removed all this was from anything to do with the war. Was it even in the same world as the battlefields abroad? As the mass grave in Rosebank Cemetery?

But then, as at her dad's funeral, she chided herself for not seeing what lay beyond the happiness of this little interlude. All the young men in uniform, even the bridegroom himself, would soon be returning to France. All those left behind would be suffering. No one here, however cheerful they seemed, was forgetting the war, she could be sure of that.

‘Elinor,' came a voice at her side and, turning, she saw Stephen standing with a drink, his grey eyes upon her.

Her own eyes widening, she said nothing.

‘Look, I'm sorry I didn't speak when I saw you in the kirk just now,' he began quickly. ‘I  . . . well, I suppose I was just so surprised to see you. Never expected to, though that was stupid, when I knew you were Brenda's friend.'

‘That's all right,' she murmured. ‘I didn't expect to see you either.'

‘I've seen Tam a few times. When he knew I had some leave, he asked me to come to his wedding.' Stephen hesitated, seeming ill at ease. ‘How are you, then?'

‘Very well, thanks. I'm still at the Primrose, but it's a hospital now.'

‘Oh, yes, I heard. Not married yourself?'

‘No.'

‘I thought you might be, by now.'

‘No, I don't see  . . . I don't see anyone now.'

‘You're not with the footballer?

‘We  . . . parted.'

‘I see.'

‘He's in France, with the Royal Scots. My brother's with the Royal Scots, too – he's just joined up. And my father is dead.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that.'

‘It was very sudden, quite a shock.' Elinor's gaze was still resting bravely on Stephen's unsmiling face. ‘How are you, then? I see you're an officer now.'

He shrugged. ‘For what it's worth, a captain, yes.' Again, he hesitated. ‘Also, I've met someone. A VAD, as a matter of fact. Drives ambulances, very well, too.'

Elinor, lowering her eyes, was concentrating very hard on showing nothing of what his words had meant to her. ‘I hope you'll be very happy.'

‘Good God, you think anyone can be happy at this time?'

‘Brenda and Tam are happy.'

‘For now,' he said quietly. ‘Seems we're being called in to lunch, so I'll say goodbye. I'm glad we had this talk, Elinor. I believe I was a bit hard on you, the last time we met, wasn't I?'

She shook her head. ‘I never thought so, but I'm glad we had a talk, too. Goodbye, Stephen, and good luck.'

He smiled at last and moved away, making no suggestion that they should have lunch together. Later, when she shared a table with Pearl and two of Tam's friends, she saw him sitting with the people he'd walked with earlier. But after the lunch and the speeches were over and the bridal couple had left for a secret destination, there was no sign of him. Not that it mattered. They had made their goodbyes; there was nothing else to say.

Returning slowly to Friar's Wynd, her thanks given to Brenda's mother, her farewells made to Pearl and others, Elinor tried to come to terms with her own particular bad news. She told herself it had been good to see Stephen, to part on better terms than before, and to know that he'd met someone else and was no longer suffering over her own betrayal. Yes, all these things helped her to accept that he had gone from her life, and that she must concentrate on what she had. Work, for instance. Working, especially for others – that was the way to get over heartache. To fill the mind with something else, even if it was easier said than done.

Only after she'd gone to her bed, having given Hessie a full account of the wedding and changed from her pink dress to help with the chores, did she allow her eyes to fill with tears. Tears for her own mistakes. And for what might have been.

Forty-Eight

If Elinor wanted to forget her sorrows in work, there was plenty of it at the Primrose. There were so many new patients arriving in the late summer that Matron was beginning to worry seriously about overcrowding, bemoaning that nobody had ever forecast that there would be so many cases needing help.

Of course, other hospitals were in the same boat, with the specialist unit at the Royal Victoria, for instance, being as full as the Primrose, and the general hospitals all taking their share.

‘We must just do what we can,' Matron ordered. ‘More hospitals are opening all the time, but for now we must take those who need us and hope that more beds will be released as recoveries are made.'

‘Ever hopeful,' one of the QAs sighed later, causing Sister Penny to say sharply that the recovery rate at Primrose was very good. Many soldiers were passing medical boards to return to their duties, even though there were some who had to be invalided out. Either way, beds became available.

‘Not so much from the neurasthenics,' someone observed, at which Sister Penny frowned and agreed that curing those patients with mental problems was a much longer process, but even there, the Primrose had its successes, thanks to its excellent doctors – Colonel Shannon, Major Henderson, and Major Brown. On that confident note, the discussion ended.