Starlight (8 page)

‘Who says I won't be interested?' Marguerite asked. ‘I was just saying to Ma the other day that I could do with a change.'

‘That's right,' Addie put in. ‘And you can get stale, doing the same job, day in, day out.'

‘Maybe I'll apply, then.' Marguerite turned thoughtful blue eyes on Jess. ‘When's the interview?'

‘Probably early December. I could ask Mrs Baxter, the lady who runs the cafe. She's a widow – very nice, very capable.'

‘So, could you find out how much they're paying and what the hours are, as well? I'm thinking I might well try for it.'

‘I'm no' sure it'll be your cup of tea,' Jess said uneasily. She was beginning to wonder if she really wanted her sister working so close. ‘I think the wages are the same as you're getting now, but then there'll be the longer hours. Everybody's very free and easy, as well.'

‘You're saying I'm no' free and easy? I can fit in anywhere, if I want to.' Marguerite gave a little laugh. ‘And this might be my chance to meet some rich Edinburgh chap, eh? Never see one in The Galleon Tea Rooms, I can tell you!'

‘Well, if you do go for interview, don't wear your pale grey two-piece, will you? The one you let me borrow?'

‘Have you forgotten? It's winter. I'll be wearing my navy-blue woollen suit with a coat on top.' Marguerite smiled. ‘Who'd remember that grey two-piece, anyway?'

Thirteen

Christmas loomed and after Jess had organized the decorations for the cinema – tinsel, holly and paper streamers – she asked Sally if they weren't going to have a staff party? Dobson's had always had a do in the back room, with food and drink and a two-piece band for dancing.

‘Can't run to that,' Sally told her. ‘And it's no' easy, getting everybody together, with the evening working and that. What George likes to do is just have us all up to his office for a drink at lunchtime on Christmas Eve, when there's no matinee.'

‘And we all bring something to eat?'

‘No, no, dear, Daisy Hawthorne brings sandwiches and a Christmas cake. She's very good about that.'

‘I'll look forward to it, then.'

‘Aye, and you'll be looking forward to having your sister here after Hogmanay, eh?' Sally shook her head. ‘What a lovely girl! Joan Baxter said she couldn't resist giving her Nancy's job, even though she's a wee bit old.'

‘Yes, it'll be nice,' Jess agreed. ‘Having Marguerite working in the cafe.'

Nice. Well, she hoped so. As soon as Marguerite had said she'd try for the job, Jess had known she'd get it. Who'd turn her down? It must have been plain from the moment she slipped off her coat and strolled into the interview in her navy blue suit, that she was going to add something special to the cinema cafe, and Mrs Baxter would have been bowled over, as people always were.

Whether or not Marguerite would get on with Pam and the other waitresses remained to be seen. Jess had her suspicions that some of her sister's colleagues at the Galleon had been rather resentful of her manner, as well as envious of her looks, but maybe things would be different at the Princes. Just as long as she, Jess, didn't get involved. After all, she wasn't responsible for her sister.

It was some time since she and Rusty had met outside work. After his show of hostility, he had recovered enough to be friendly when he saw her, but had not asked her to walk with him again – a sign, she guessed, that he'd been deeply hurt by her aim to keep their meetings secret. Although she was still anxious not to let Ben see them together, she felt bad about hurting Rusty, and wished there was something she could do to make it up to him. With Christmas fast approaching, it came to her.

‘Rusty, could I have a word?' she asked, when she saw him in his break one afternoon, smoking a cigarette in the foyer.

‘Any time,' he answered politely.

‘I was wondering . . . if you're no' doing anything for Christmas dinner, would you like to have it with us? Ma and my sister and me?'

A flush rose to his cheekbones and his eyes grew wintry.

‘This you feeling sorry for me, Jess? Thanks, but I think I'll have to say no.'

‘You've got other plans?' she asked, her own cheeks colouring at his tone.

‘No, but I'll be OK. Don't worry about me.'

‘Oh, come on, Rusty! If you're no' doing anything else, you could come to us? We'd all be happy if you did.'

‘I've never even met your mother, or your sister.'

‘Well, you'll be meeting Marguerite soon. She's coming to work at the cafe.' Jess put her hand on his thin arm. ‘Please, Rusty, it's Christmas, eh? Don't be mad at me.'

‘You're so keen to have me say I'll come,' he said with a short laugh. ‘Just as long as I don't tell Ben about it, eh?'

Her face now crimson, Jess turned away.

‘It's all right,' she said, her voice shaking. ‘You needn't come. I'm sorry I asked you.'

As she walked rapidly back to the box office, he made no move to stop her, only drew hard on his cigarette, then stubbed it out, and left the foyer.

‘Oh dear, got a cold?' a young man asked, seeing Jess's eyes filling with tears as she gave him his ticket for
The Adventures of Robin Hood
, the Christmas attraction. He laughed. ‘Or is it a case of “Smoke gets in your Eyes”?'

‘I don't smoke,' Jess retorted. ‘That'll be one shilling, please.'

Christmas Eve found the staff of the Princes gathering in Mr Hawthorne's office, their eyes lighting up at the sight of bottles and glasses and a large, iced cake, flanked by plates of sandwiches and mince pies.

‘Come in, come in!' the manager cried genially, cigarette in hand. ‘Bit of a squash, but you won't mind that. Daisy, my dear, pass the sandwiches, while I do the drinks.'

Daisy Hawthorne, thin as a stick, with a lined little face and pale hair dressed in pin curls, fluttered around as people took plates.

‘I've made cheese and tomato, egg and tomato, ham and mustard . . . oh dear, what else?'

‘They're all lovely, dear,' Sally told her, as Edie Harrison, the secretary nodded approvingly. ‘But don't I always say you shouldn't go to so much trouble?'

‘Come on, girls, what can I pass you?' Ben Daniel was politely asking the usherettes, and nodding to Jess. ‘How about you, Jess? Ham and chutney?'

Jess, who'd been carefully avoiding eye contact with Rusty standing nearby, turned with alacrity to help herself from the plate Ben was holding. How smart he was looking! So often seen in shirtsleeves, he'd obviously taken special trouble for the drinks and put on a dark jacket and tie. Seemed more than ever a second Henry Fonda.

Rusty, too, had made an effort to dress smartly, but the way Jess felt at the moment, that was of no interest. Yet, when plump and cheerful Mrs Baxter came to him with a piled up plate, Jess felt absurdly relieved. She didn't really want him to be alone and out of things, and after Mrs Baxter told him to take two of her sandwiches, and three would be better, Jess was glad he did. And that he smiled.

‘Eat up, laddie, eat up! Put some weight on. My word, if you stand sideways, nobody can see you!' Mrs Baxter laughed heartily. ‘No' like me, eh?'

‘Fred, what are you having?' Mr Hawthorne cried. ‘I bet you're ready for a top-up, eh?'

‘Wouldnae say no, Mr Hawthorne, thanks,' Fred said, allowing his glass to be refilled and swiping another sandwich from Mrs B's plate as she moved on. ‘Och, it's nice to think o' having tomorrow off, eh? No' everybody does, you ken. Some folks work Christmas and take Hogmanay.' He grinned. ‘Me, I like both!'

‘Rusty's looking rather glum these days,' Ben said in a low voice to Jess. ‘What have you been doing to him?'

‘I told you there was nothing between us,' she answered promptly, glad of this chance to make things clear again. ‘You didn't believe me, but it's true.'

‘No wonder the poor devil's so sad, then. Listen, are you ready for a mince pie? Or are you waiting for the cake?'

‘Oh, the cake, I think.' Jess's heart was singing, as they moved to watch Daisy nervously wielding the knife on her handiwork. ‘Are you all set for Christmas, Ben? Going away or anything?'

‘Just spending it with my dad. How about you?'

‘Having a quiet time, with my mother and my sister.'

‘This the one who's coming to work in the cafe? That'll be nice for you. Excuse me, if I just pass these pies around for Mrs H.'

‘Last Christmas, Nancy was here,' Pam murmured, as Jess moved to speak to her. ‘Funny to think of her on her honeymoon, eh? And now your sister's got her job.'

‘Marguerite's looking forward to coming,' Jess said quickly. ‘I'm sure she'll fit in.'

‘Aye, but she's that good looking, eh? We were thinking she might've been married by now. Bet she's had her chances.'

‘Not found the right one yet.'

As Renie MacLeish came up, carrying a large slice of Christmas cake, Jess turned to her with some relief. Hearing Pam speak of Marguerite had only reinforced her own worries about her sister's move to the cinema cafe. But she must just put it out of her mind, she told herself, it wasn't her problem. And laughed readily, when Pam said if Renie had tried really hard she might have found a bigger piece of cake, eh? And clapped, when Renie retorted that having seen the number of mince pies Pam had put away, she couldn't afford to point the finger.

‘So, why is there no mistletoe around this year, I want to know?' Renie went on to ask, taking a bite of her cake. ‘I was that looking forward to catching Ben Daniel, you ken, but I canna just go up without an excuse, eh?'

Catching Ben Daniel? Jess's heart gave a leap. She'd never thought of such a thing for herself, but if other girls were going around kissing – why not?

‘Why not?' asked Pam, seeming to echo her thought. ‘It's Christmas, after all. I was thinking of catching Rusty – if that'd be OK with you, Jess?'

‘Why shouldn't it be?' Jess asked, suddenly having to remember him, the effect of her words somewhat spoiled by Rusty suddenly appearing at her side and asking if she could spare a moment? Ignoring the smiles of Pam and Renie, Jess, her face expressionless, shrugged and followed him to a corner of the room.

‘What is it, then?' she asked sharply. ‘Something else I've done to upset you?'

‘Jess, I'm sorry. I don't know what's got into me lately – and at Christmas, as well. Can you forgive me?'

At the look of contrition in his eyes, she had relented already and put her hand on his arm. ‘Rusty, I'm the one should be asking that. I made you feel bad, and I'm sorry.'

‘You asked me to your home, and I didn't even thank you.' He lowered his voice. ‘I suppose, it's too late, is it? To do that now?'

‘Would you still like to come?'

‘Is the offer still open? Your mother won't mind?'

‘Sure, the offer's still open. And Ma will be pleased to see you. So will Marguerite.'

A smile lit his face.

‘I'll come, then, and be glad to – thanks, Jess. Thanks very much.'

At the sound of someone tapping a spoon for attention, they turned to see Ben standing by the manager and his wife and preparing to make a speech. Just a few words of thanks, for the Christmas drinks and excellent food, and would Mr and Mrs Hawthorne accept the wine and chocolates the staff would like to give them?

‘You bet!' cried George, as Daisy blushed and lowered her eyes, and the round of applause brought the little staff party to a close.

‘And I never got to kiss Ben Daniel,' Renie sighed, as she helped to gather up plates. ‘Next year I bring my own mistletoe, eh?'

Me, too, thought Jess. But will I have to wait so long?

‘If we're all here next year,' tall, blonde Faith Pringle murmured. ‘They say there still might be a war, you know.'

‘No, no, we've got peace in our time,' Edna Angus told her. ‘Is that no' right, Mr Hawthorne?'

‘Sure it is, Edna!' he answered robustly. ‘We'll all hang on to that. Merry Christmas, everybody! Just the evening performance to go now, then you get your day off.'

‘See you tomorrow?' Rusty whispered to Jess, and she smiled and nodded, determined not to spoil her good intentions of giving him a pleasant Christmas by wishing Ben might have been there too.

Fourteen

The Raeburns didn't have turkey for Christmas dinner – too big, too dear – but Addie roasted a splendid piece of pork with the sort of crackling Rusty sighed over with such pleasure, the women at the table couldn't help laughing.

Afterwards, there was a rich plum pudding – the same, Addie told them, as she'd made for her ladies at the club. ‘Though of course they had to have it early,' she added. ‘Seeing as we close down for the Christmas holidays.'

‘So, what do the ladies do then?' Rusty asked.

‘Och, we've very few who stay and they move out somewhere. The others have all got homes – just like to get out of 'em, the way their husbands do, at the New Club and such.' Addie laughed. ‘And why not, eh? They come in, read the papers, have a chat and a nice meal – puts the time in for 'em. They've no jobs, of course.'

‘I'd die of boredom without a job,' Jess declared. ‘I'm glad I wouldn't have to give up work if ever I got married, like teachers and civil servants have to do. I think that's so unfair.'

‘The best thing for me about getting married would be giving up work,' Marguerite said with a smile. ‘Reading the papers, having a chat and a nice meal – what could be better?'

‘What a shame you've to start work at the cafe next week, then,' Jess commented. ‘Might get a nice meal, but you'll be too busy to read the papers.'

‘Might meet my husband, eh?'

‘Might indeed,' Rusty remarked, resting his gaze on Marguerite's lovely face, at which Jess leaped up and said they should clear away and go out for a walk while it was still light.