‘How old is he?’ This was Francis Lamont, affectionately known as Frankie.
‘Twenty-four.’ Olive hoped that the extra six years would make Neil sound more mature.
Pauline Frayne, Polly to everyone, eyed her with a touch of wonder. ‘How did you meet him?’
‘His mother’s a friend of my mother’s.’ That was true, and there was no need to say that he was a cousin.
‘I’d never have guessed you’d a boyfriend.’ Looking rather flustered, Polly added, ‘I mean, you seem so aloof, and you never speak to any boys. Have you known him long?’
‘A couple of years. He did ask me to marry him last time he was home, but I told him I’d rather wait till after I was finished Medical School.’
‘Is he very good looking?’
‘Oh, yes, he’s a darling. He’s on a special course at the moment, training to be an officer.’ It was as well to tell a whopper as a small untruth, she reasoned.
‘An officer?’ Polly’s eyes widened. ‘You’re lucky.’
Olive gave a modest laugh. ‘He says he’s lucky having me.’
Frankie’s smile was a little dubious. ‘I suppose he has actually kissed you?’
‘Oh yes, dozens of times, but I’ve never let him . . . I want to be a virgin on my wedding night.’ Noticing that Frankie looked more sceptical than ever, she added, ‘That is, if I can hold out that long . . . or if he can, which is more to the point.’
Polly sighed longingly, ‘I wish I’d someone like that. The boys I’ve been out with can’t wait to get on with the job, though I quite enjoy it. I know I am just a body to them, a body to satisfy their needs, but I suppose it’s better than giving my body for research.’
Giggling, Frankie said, ‘I’ve been researched a few times. Boys who hadn’t a clue how to do the thing properly, and the fumbling’s worse than anything.’
Having arrived at their lecture room, they trooped in and sat down in one of the tiered rows of seats, Olive now too involved with dreams of Neil actually doing what she’d said he had done to concentrate on anything else. They were white lies, that was all; everything would eventually come true, and she was sure that she had risen in her fellow students’ estimation. It might be a good idea to give Neil a hint of how she felt, a little nudge in the right direction?
1 April, 1941
My Dear Neil,
Here I am again with a few lines to let you know I’m still thinking about you. Your mother told me why you wrote such a scrappy letter before, so I forgive you – this time. She said she didn’t know where you were now but she gave me your new address, though a Forces Post Office number doesn’t tell anyone anything.
Are you lonely, being away from home? I wish I could be there to cheer you up, though I really need cheering up myself, so I expect a nice long letter back from you. I took a night off studying on Wednesday and persuaded (forced) Raymond to go to the Majestic with me, and we had to walk all the way home because no buses or trams run when there’s an alert on. But it was dull going to the cinema with my brother, so I pretended that it was you sitting beside me, and that you were holding my hand. I suppose you think I’m silly, but I often imagine you’re with me and it gives me a lovely warm feeling.
Raymond wants to leave school in the summer, but Dad says he has to stay on and try for the Varsity. I don’t think he’ll pass the Highers, neither does he, but Dad has set his heart on having another solicitor in the family. Thank goodness he didn’t expect me to follow in his footsteps, because I like Medicine, and I’ll concentrate on Psychiatry if I get the chance. I’m quite interested in how people’s minds work.
I will have to stop now, but I am going to tell you something first, and it’s not an April Fool joke, in spite of the date. I THINK I LOVE YOU. There, I’ve told you, and I wonder how you will feel about it?
Your loving cousin, Olive,
Neil was horrified and felt compelled to confide in Alf. ‘My cousin says she thinks she loves me.’
His friend raised his eyebrows. ‘Very nice!’
‘It’s anything but, she’s a bloody nuisance. I can’t stand her. She’s always made sheep’s eyes at me and tried to get me all to herself, but this is beyond a joke.’
‘Why don’t you give her the brush off?’
‘I’ve tried, but nothing works.’
Alf ran his hands through his sandy hair, his round face thoughtful, but after a moment, he said, ‘What does she look like? Is she anything decent?’
‘I suppose she’s pretty enough, but . . .’
‘Is she, though?’ Alf pondered over this, then a slow, sly smile crept over his face. ‘I noticed that we’ll both be on leave at the same time, so how about asking me to your house before I go home to Elgin. I won’t stay long, maybe a couple of nights or so, but you can introduce me to Olive, and I’ll make a play for her, and with my irresistible charm, she’s bound to transfer her affections to me.’
‘That would be great, but are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘I’d do anything for a friend, especially when he’s got a pretty cousin he wants rid of.’
‘You’ll maybe regret it.’
‘I’ll easily give her the old heave-oh when I want to, but maybe I won’t want to.’
Neil blew a loud raspberry. ‘You’ll want to, believe me.’
10 April, 1941
Dear Olive,
Thank you for your letter. I’m glad you take time off sometimes, for you must get very bored of studying. Raymond did tell me when I was home that he wanted to leave school, but if your dad says no, I suppose he’ll just have to stay on. You asked me if I was lonely, well, the answer is no. I’m having a great time with all the girls here, a different one every night I’m off duty, though there’s nothing serious. It would do you good to go out with boys once your exams are past. We were on manoeuvres again last week, and it’s not much fun when the rain is teeming down, I can tell you. Army greatcoats and trousers take ages to dry. I got a chill the first day, and I’ve been sniffling ever since.
Regards to all your family, Neil
Neil’s letter made Olive livid. He’d had the cheek to ignore her declaration of love, had even insulted her by saying she should go out with other boys. Surely he couldn’t really be telling her to look for somebody else because he didn’t love her? No, no, that was impossible. As she had said to Raymond and Patsy at New Year, Neil was too shy to tell her he loved her, and he must be bluffing when he said he’d been out with other girls. Anyway, he had said that there was nothing serious, and if he was here, she would convince him that she was the only girl for him.
Joe closed his eyes to listen to ‘Garrison Theatre’ on the wireless, but Gracie was interested in an advertisement in the newspaper. ‘I see Raggie Morrison’s have a sale on just now – winceyette nightdresses for three and eleven. I could be doing with a new nightie.’
Raggie Morrison’s – or Morrison’s Economic Stores, to give it its proper title – was a rambling emporium which stocked most things from alarm clocks to bedsocks, fireside rugs to men’s combinations, and which had a sale almost every week, as both Joe and Gracie were well aware. ‘You’re not needing a winceyette nightie when it’s coming on for the summer?’ he muttered. ‘You’ll sweat like a pig.’
‘Ladies don’t sweat like pigs,’ she retorted. ‘Anyway, I’d keep it till the winter.’
‘You’re old fashioned, Mum,’ Patsy smiled. ‘It’s only old women that wear winceyette nighties. It’s interlock pyjamas you should get.’
‘I feel the cold something terrible in bed, though.’
Joe sniggered, ‘I can vouch for that. She sticks her cold feet up against my legs and has me shivering as well.’
Gracie looked embarrassed at this intimate detail of her marriage coming out, but Patsy said, ‘Interlock pyjamas are actually warmer than nighties, Mum, so you’ll be doing Dad a favour as well as yourself if . . .’
‘No, no,’ Gracie interrupted. ‘I’ve been wearing nighties all my l
ife, and I’m too old to change. I’ll buy a nightie tomorrow morning, and I’ll start getting Neil’s room ready for him in the afternoon.’
Joe frowned. ‘His room’s fine the way it is.’
‘Oh, you men! I’ve the bedding to air, and give the place a good clean, and I’ll only have a day and a half.’
‘I’m sure Neil wouldn’t worry what it’s like.
‘Maybe no’, but I do.’
Having not seen Queenie since her tragic loss, Neil felt ill at ease with her, but felt that he had to make some sort of commiseration. ‘I’m sorry about your mum and dad, Queenie . . . and your grandmother and grandfather. I could hardly believe it when Mum wrote and told me.’
Her face muscles tightened, ‘I can still hardly believe it myself, but . . . thank you, Neil.’
She was clearly near to tears, and he wondered if it would have been better not to say anything, but he hadn’t wanted her to think he didn’t care. He did care. His heart ached to see her so unhappy, and he felt like putting his arms round her to comfort her, but that would probably make her worse. Remembering that his friend was waiting to be introduced, he said, ‘This is Alf Melville, folks,’ and was relieved to see, when he glanced at Queenie again, that she was smiling at something Patsy had said.
Hetty and Martin took to Alf straight away, as had Joe and Gracie, but Olive felt annoyed by his presence. Every time she tried to talk to Neil, his friend butted in and spoiled it. Thank goodness he wouldn’t be in Aberdeen for long she thought, giving up all hope of speaking to her cousin. As the evening progressed, she realised that Alf was looking at her with some admiration, and it occurred to her that a spot of jealousy would do Neil no harm; it might even make him realise that he did love her. With this in mind, she turned her full attention to Alf, agreeing when he asked her to go out with him the next night.
‘It worked like a charm,’ Alf remarked to Neil on the way back to King Street. ‘I like big breasted girls and Olive’s got the best pair of tits I’ve seen in a long time. Are you sure you want me to go on with this?’
Neil didn’t take time to consider. ‘I’m sure, and you’re welcome to her, if that’s what you want.’ For an instant, it crossed his mind that they were being unfair to Olive, but she had asked for it, and she had jumped at the chance of a date with Alf.
Olive did have second thoughts when she went to bed, but the carrot of making Neil jealous was too tempting to pass, and she was strangely attracted to his friend when he called for her the following evening. Alf was very charming as they strolled out Queen’s Road into the countryside, and he was quite good looking in a rugged sort of way, with twinkling eyes that suggested he might be good fun. He was a little shorter than Neil, with slightly broader shoulders, and his manner towards her was much more flattering than the boorish way Neil always treated her.
When Alf stopped and pushed her gently against the dyke, she felt uneasy, but his tender kisses made her forget her fears, and she slid her arms round his neck, hoping that he would become more passionate, but in a few minutes, he drew away and they resumed their walk. A little farther on, Olive said, ‘Instead of turning and going back the way we’ve come, we could go by the Switchback and the Lang Stracht. It’s not much longer – just like going in a circle, really.’
As she had hoped, the hollow at the foot of the Switchback was so secluded that Alf stopped again, and several times on the long, straight stretch of country road, so that it took them much longer to get back to Rubislaw Den. After a last, lingering kiss, Alf said, ‘Tomorrow night again?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Olive felt lightheaded as she went inside. Alf was good fun and had behaved like a gentleman – although she half wished that he hadn’t – and a double dose of jealousy should teach Neil a lesson. Not that she was caring what he thought now, but he deserved it.
Neil eyed Alf with some curiosity when he returned to King Street, but waited until they were alone before he put the question. ‘Well, what did you think of her?’
Taking off his boots, Alf said, ‘She’s a bit forward.’
‘I know that, but how did you get on? Did you kiss her?’
‘She didn’t know how to kiss. She’s a dead loss . . . but I’ve asked her out tomorrow again.’ He struck a pose and went on, ‘It is a far, far better thing I do now, than I have ever done before, and it’s all for you.’
Neil rubbed his hands gleefully. ‘That’s my boy! As long as you take her attention off me, that’s all I ask.’
On their second date, Olive returned Alf’s kisses with an ardour which pleased yet disquieted him. Awakening love for him was stirring in her heart, and she believed that he was more than a little in love with her, so it came as a great disappointment when he broke away from her abruptly. In the next instant, she felt triumphant, assuming that he had been aroused by her and hadn’t wanted to defile her.
That night, in bed, she couldn’t picture Neil’s face, try as she would. It was Alf she kept seeing; the twinkling blue eyes which had turned serious just before he kissed her; the strong mouth that could be heavenly tender against hers; the sandy hair with just a tiny kink on one side of the parting. Why had she ever thought she was in love with Neil? Drowning in a sea of unfamiliar emotions, Olive did not realise that her feelings stemmed from having received her first kisses, and would have been mortified to know that Neil himself had had a hand in arranging the whole episode.
Neil was already in bed when Alf went back to King Street. ‘How did you get on this time? Did you score?’
Alf looked uncomfortable. ‘I might have if I’d tried, but I couldn’t . . . she’s your cousin, after all, and I didn’t know how you’d feel about it.’
Screwing up his nose, Neil said, ‘I wouldn’t have minded. Olive needs a bit of a shake up. It would do her good, take some of the starch out of her.’
‘Aye, she’s a bit too toffee-nosed.’
‘I bet she’s a virgin.’
‘She’s not my type.’ Grinning, Alf gave him a push, ‘Move over, you lazy bugger. You’re taking up all the bed.’
Alf went home to Elgin the following afternoon, and when she had her son on his own, Gracie took him to task for not writing as often as he had done before, but he looked at her unrepentantly, ‘I’ve been going out quite a lot lately, and I didn’t have time to write.’
‘Was it a girl you were out with? Are you going steady?’
‘It wasn’t always the same girl. Connie, she’s the current one, well, she’s quite a good sort, but I’m not ready for anything serious yet.’
‘I should hope not. You’re still only eighteen.’
Considering it wise to change the subject, Neil said, ‘You and Dad both look well. Is the shop still doing OK?’
‘It’s doing fine. Your Dad’s pleased with himself, though he girns on about the rationing.’ Gracie would have liked to know more about this Connie he had been going out with but didn’t ask.
At lunchtime, Neil said, ‘I think I’ll take a dander up to Rubislaw Den this afternoon.’
‘Hetty’ll be pleased to see you. I’m glad Olive went out with Alf. She could do a lot worse than him.’
Recalling his friend’s amorous adventures both at Larkhill and Cricklewood, Neil grinned. ‘I doubt it. I’d like to have a natter with Martin as well, so I likely won’t be home at teatime.’
He left the house with his father and, as they walked up the street, Joe looked sideways at him. ‘What’s this your mother was telling me about . . . Connie, was it?’
Neil laughed. ‘She’s one of many. Let’s say I’m sowing my wild oats, the same as you, likely, when you were my age.’
‘No, I didn’t go with any girls before I asked your mother out, and that took me all my time. I’m right surprised that you’re going back to see Olive, though. I thought you didn’t like her.’
‘I don’t.’ He considered telling his father about the plan Alf had thought up, but decided that it was too risky. ‘I just wondered what she thought of Alf.’
‘What did he think of her?’
‘Oh . . . I don’t think he was too struck with her.’
‘But he went out with her twice?’
Neil smiled, a little nervously. ‘That’s Alf all over. He can’t leave the girls alone.’
Stopping at the door of his shop, Joe said, slowly, ‘She’s one girl I’d advise both of you to leave alone. I sometimes think she’d never let go if she fell in love.’
His father’s words had made Neil think, and by the time he rang Hetty’s bell, he was wondering if Alf’s idea had been such a good one, after all. His aunt welcomed him warmly and took him into the sitting room, where they chatted until her son and daughter came home. ‘Look who’s here,’ she cried to them, skittishly.
Raymond rushed over, but Olive hung back until her mother said, ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to Neil?’
She came forward shyly, which was so unusual that Neil did not like to ask her any questions, and when Martin appeared he monopolised the young serviceman until Hetty told them to go through to the dining room. To Neil’s relief, Olive took her seat at the opposite side of the table, and because his uncle talked to him all through the meal, he did not have to look at her. Back in the sitting room, however, their eyes did meet occasionally, but he couldn’t place what he saw in hers . . . it surely couldn’t be pity? Whatever it was made him look away uneasily, and he prayed that when Alf eventually gave her the cold shoulder she wouldn’t decide to latch on to him again.
Chapter Six
Queenie, sixteen now, was beginning to think about boys. She had quite liked Alf Melville while he had been there, but he had been too smitten with Olive to notice her. Good luck to him, Queenie mused, grinning as she reflected that he would need all the luck he could get if he were serious about her cousin. She hoped that he was, and that Olive felt the same way about him, because she’d stop being so possessive about Neil. Queenie’s heart gave a tiny leap. She didn’t think of Neil as a brother now, and wondered if it was very wrong of her to dream about him as a sweetheart. It was a vain dream, in any case – he was still treating her like a sister – and she had better put it out of her mind. There were other boys around; boys who seemed to find her attractive and whistled at her when she passed. She enjoyed that, especially when it was Callum Birnie, who had gone even further and asked her out twice . . . though she had refused him both times. Maybe she should accept if he asked again. If Neil knew she was going with a boy, he would realise that she was no longer a child, that she was actually a desirable young woman.
Cousins at War Page 8
