Starlight (11 page)

‘Those men don't look like gardeners, they're wearing suits. My guess is they're not thinking about any clock.'

‘What, then?'

‘Air-raid shelters.'

‘Air-raid shelters? In Princes Street Gardens? Rusty, what ever are you talking about? Who's going to need air-raid shelters? There isn't going to be a war. Mr Chamberlain promised.'

Rusty took her arm again. ‘Come on, let's cross over. We're going to be late.'

‘No, I want to know what you meant. Who said there'd be air-raid shelters here?'

‘I saw it in the paper. Said it was on the cards. Just a precaution.'

As lunchtime crowds jostled past them, Jess kept her eyes fixed on Rusty's slightly averted face.

‘A precaution? They wouldn't go to so much trouble.'

‘Jess, nobody knows exactly what's going to happen. But Hitler's occupied Czechoslovakia, and he's already in Austria. If he takes Poland, that'll be it. We're committed to giving our support. We'd have to declare war.'

‘I know that, but they said Hitler had no plans for invading Poland, so, we'd be all right. That's what they said, Rusty.'

‘It was Hitler who said he'd no plans to invade anywhere. Next thing we hear, he's threatening to bomb Prague if they don't capitulate.'

Her face suddenly pale, Jess turned to cross the street.

‘Well, let's go back, let's go to work.' She shrugged. ‘What else can we do?'

‘It may never happen,' Rusty said quietly, when they'd entered the foyer of the cinema. ‘There's all kind of talk going on – you don't know what to believe.'

‘Yes, we'll just have to wait and see.' Jess put her hand on his arm. ‘Listen, it was nice, being with you today, you know. I . . . felt the better for it.'

‘Did you?' He was stooping to look into her face, thin shoulders bent, his hands on hers. ‘Could we meet again, then?'

‘Yes, I'd like to.'

‘You wouldn't consider . . . another Sunday afternoon? No strings, I promise.'

She hesitated, her eyes on the foyer clock.

Why not? Why not go back to what they'd had? No strings, he'd said. So, why not?

‘A Sunday afternoon . . . would be very nice. Thanks, Rusty.'

‘Oh, Jess,' he murmured, his grey eyes alight. ‘Thank YOU.'

Eighteen

Air-raid shelters in Princes Street Gardens? It had seemed a joke, until, suddenly, on a perfect summer's day, men were digging and there they were. Shelters for the bombs that everyone now was expecting to fall on the city. One minute, it seemed, folk had been happy to think there'd be peace in their time; the next, they'd accepted – there must be preparations for war.

‘Aye, they say there are millions of gas masks coming our way,' Sally told Jess, her voice hushed with concern, but her face flushed with excitement. ‘Is it no' terrible, to think we might need 'em?'

‘It is,' Jess muttered, thinking of her father. She looked around the cafe, where she and Sally had decided to treat themselves to a light lunch. At the counter, she could see Marguerite serving someone with coffee, looking so beautifully serene, it was hard to believe she must be as worried as everyone else. ‘In fact, I can hardly believe it.'

‘Oh, there's more. We're all supposed to be practising doing blackouts of our houses. I ask you, when it never even gets dark at this time of year! And then did you no' hear about the plans to evacuate all the kiddies away from the cities? And for calling up the young men – and women, too?' Sally shook her head in mock despair. ‘All this because they say that awful Hitler will invade Poland.'

‘He hasn't done it yet,' Jess remarked, finishing her egg salad and trying to sound hopeful.

‘Oh, he will, though. And then the balloon will go up. We'll be at war.' Sally's eyes were sparkling. ‘You know what I'm going to do?'

‘Get married?'

‘No! I'm going to join up. My Arnold as well. Marriage can go on the back burner.' Sally gave a little smile. ‘We're no' needing a honeymoon, if you take my meaning.'

‘Why, Sally – I'd no idea!' Jess, blushing, looked away from Sally's cheerful blue eyes. ‘I mean, I never thought . . .'

‘Why should you, then? I'll admit, it's unusual, but no' so risky as it used to be. I mean, women don't necessarily have to land in the family way these days, you ken.'

‘So I've heard,' Jess said, still blushing.

‘Aye, well you remember it, dear, when the time comes. But for us, no' getting married was all because of Arnold's mother, really. She's a widow, and so difficult, you wouldn't believe! Always said she couldn't face him leaving her, and up to now, he's just given in. But if war's declared, she'll have to accept he's got to go and that'll make it easier for us, you see, when we do eventually get married.'

‘I still don't see why you want to join up.'

‘Excitement, dear! Have a bit of a change. You might feel the same. After all, we'll probably be called up, anyway.'

‘Leave the Princes? Folk will still want the cinemas, Sally.'

‘Aye, but they'll have to find older people to run 'em.' Sally waved to Pam who was passing. ‘Bring us a couple of coffees, sweetheart! We need cheering up, we're talking about the war.'

‘Fatal,' cried Pam. ‘I'm just putting it out of my mind.'

Turning back to Jess, Sally looked at her slyly.

‘Talking of marriage, how about you and Rusty, then? You seem so happy together these days. I know you say you're just good friends . . .'

‘So we are. We go out walking, have tea or a meal, enjoy each other's company – that's it.'

‘For him as well, dear? Are you sure?'

‘Here comes our coffee,' was Jess's measured reply.

Sally, stirring sugar into her coffee, let her eyes wander towards Marguerite, now carrying a tray of lunches towards a table in the window.

‘Well, don't tell me your sister's got no plans to marry,' she said softly. ‘I mean, she and Ben – they're crazy about each other, eh? When folk feel the way they do, something has to happen, you know. Have to move one way or another, that's the way things go.'

‘I've no idea what Marguerite's plans are,' Jess declared stiffly. ‘She never says.'

Nineteen

At home that evening, when she and her mother were tidying up after their supper, it seemed to Jess that Addie was looking unusually weary. It might have been that she was just tired after hard work in a hot kitchen, but more likely that she was depressed by the prospect of another world conflict. After all, she'd lived through the war that was supposed to end wars.

All this talk of gas masks, for instance. How could a woman who'd seen her husband slowly dying from the effects of wartime gas, tolerate the thought of yet more wartime gas killing off people at home? More gas, more bombs, more deaths . . .

Oh, poor Ma, Jess thought, hurriedly bringing Addie tea. ‘Might never happen, you know,' she said comfortingly. ‘This war, I mean.'

‘It'll happen,' Addie sighed. ‘And it'll be over Poland. I was just talking to Derry when I came in there. He said the same. It'll be Poland that does it. Hitler's mad keen to take it.'

‘We don't really know how things will go.'

‘No, but it's obvious the government thinks it does. Why all these gas masks, if they're no' sure? Why air-raid shelters? Poor Derry was that depressed. Moyra's ill again, and then there's all the worry about the shop. No oranges, you ken.'

‘Oranges?'

‘Well, he'll have to manage on what we can grow, eh? And when did we grow oranges?'

The evening was so fine, they felt they should have been out, getting fresh air on the Shore, or walking to Addie's favourite Links, but lost in thought, neither of them made a move.

Jess was remembering her conversation with Sally, before she'd gone off on her free afternoon to buy some blackout material.

‘To block out the sun?' she'd cried, leaving Jess to open up the box office. How like Sally to be excited by the prospect of war, of joining up, seeing something new! And not wanting to marry her Arnold yet, because she'd already, as she put it, had her honeymoon with him. Ah, but she was full of surprises, wasn't she?

Would I do something like that? Jess asked herself, but came up with no answer. She honestly didn't know, the situation had never arisen. Not with Rusty, certainly, though they did kiss from time to time, and sometimes she saw a look in his eyes as they rested on her that made her remember it had been her idea to be just good friends.

As for Ben – her mouth tightened. She'd never had the chance, had she? Never would have. Not with this sister coming in now, with a strange smile on her face and her left hand held out for them to see.

‘Why, Marguerite, what is it?' Addie asked, as Jess sat without moving, her eyes riveted on her sister's hand. ‘What have you got there?'

‘A ring,' Marguerite answered softly. ‘I know you've been wondering, so now's the time to say . . . Ben and me – we're engaged.'

As her mother immediately ran to hug Marguerite and exclaim over her news, Jess sat without speaking. There it was then, the absolute end to her dream. Something she'd been expecting, and in a way, was relieved to have to face at last. Ben was to marry her sister, become a part of the family – even her own brother-in-law. Well, she must accept it. Hadn't she already told Rusty, she'd resolved to put her special feelings for Ben out of her mind? She must move on, that was the next thing. Move on, yes, but where?

‘Jess, Jess, come and look at this ring!' her mother was crying, her face wreathed in smiles. ‘Oh, I'm that pleased for you, Marguerite! Ben's a grand lad, and I know you'll be very happy. But what a sly boots you are, then! Why'd you never drop a hint or two? Why'd you no' bring him here tonight?'

‘Drop a hint or two?' Marguerite laughed. ‘Why, you didn't need any hints, Ma. You knew Ben and I were going to get wed some time or other. And I did want to bring him tonight, but I thought it was too late, you mightn't be up, or something. I've asked him to come on Sunday, with his dad, when we can all have a little celebration together – if that's all right with you?'

‘Of course it's all right,' Addie replied. ‘I'll get a really good joint, before we all have to go on rations, eh!'

‘It's a beautiful ring,' Jess remarked, finally rising from her chair and taking her sister's hand. ‘See how the stones shine!'

‘It was Ben's mother's,' Marguerite told her, looking down at the ring's entwined diamonds and circle of pearls. ‘His dad was a watchmaker, you know. Worked for a George Street jeweller's. When he married Ben's ma, they let him have the ring at reduced price, and before she died, she said it was to come to Ben.'

‘For when he got engaged,' Addie murmured. ‘I must say, I've never seen a prettier ring. Perfect for you, Marguerite.'

‘Perfect,' Jess agreed, flinging her arms round her sister and kissing her cheek. ‘Congratulations, Marguerite! I hope you'll be very happy.'

She felt the better for having been able to make her congratulations. Could even chat now with her sister, while their mother bustled about, making tea and cutting into a sultana cake. Could ask her about her plans, and why she and Ben had suddenly decided to announce their engagement.

‘It's the way things are going with the war,' Marguerite answered quietly. ‘Looks like Hitler's going to sign some agreement with Russia, and Ben says that'll mean he'll be sure to attack Poland. Won't have to fight on two fronts, you see. So, we want to get wed before we have to join up.'

‘Why, you won't have to join up!' her mother cried, pouring the tea. ‘Surely, if you're married, you'll be let off?'

‘I want to join up, Ma. If Ben's away, fighting, the last thing I'd want is to be sitting at home, knitting socks for the troops, or doing waitress work.' Marguerite sipped her tea, thoughtfully. ‘Maybe I'll try for the women's air force. Ben's keen to join the RAF.'

‘I suppose it'd be exciting, in a way,' Jess said slowly. ‘Something different. But I'm thinking of the Princes. Who'll keep it going?'

‘Who cares, if there's going to be a war?'

‘Folk have to have some entertainment,' Addie stated firmly. ‘Keeps their minds off their troubles.'

‘Exactly,' Jess murmured. ‘But I'm still hoping that the war will never happen.'

‘Talk about an ostrich!' Marguerite rose, stretching her lovely arms and yawning. ‘It's no' like you, Jess, to shut your eyes to facts.'

Except where Ben was concerned, Jess thought. Facts then had become confused with dreams, until Marguerite had blown the dreams away.

‘When's the wedding going to be?' Jess asked, after a pause.

‘As soon as possible. We want to be married before we have to go to war.'

‘Go to war,' Addie echoed, as slow tears coursed down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Marguerite!'

‘Have some more tea, Ma,' Jess said quickly, and both sisters put their arms around their mother and stayed with her until she leaped up, dashing away her tears, to add hot water to the teapot.

‘Aye, we'll all have more tea, eh? And then think about Marguerite's celebration.'

Twenty

On August twenty-third, after Nazi Germany and Russia had officially signed their non-aggression pact, a strange calm descended on the British people. While everything in their lives seemed to remain just as usual, it was as though they were actually in limbo, held, waiting, in fine summer weather. For what? Hitler to invade Poland? Bombs to fall? Troops to invade? The balloon to go up, anyway, as Sally had put it.

‘Don't you feel as though you're waiting for the other shoe to drop?' Rusty asked Jess, on the last day of August.