Anne Douglas

by The Wardens Daughters

  ‘That’d be a relief, but he seems – I don’t know – sort of preoccupied to me.’

  ‘He’s working out what to tell Ishbel, is my guess.’ Lynette drew again on her cigarette. ‘Even when Scott took us out to a posh restaurant, he was like that. Pretty grumpy, to be honest.’

  ‘Scott took you to a posh restaurant? Lucky things! While I’ve been having beans on toast.’

  ‘Didn’t Torquil bring you any fish?’ Lynette smiled. ‘I’m sure he called round, eh?’

  Monnie looked down into her teacup. ‘Yes, he came round. Didn’t bring any fish.’

  Lynette’s eyes sharpened. ‘Was he all right? Did anything happen?’

  ‘Nothing happened. Och, I can’t describe it, Lynette. In fact, I wasn’t going to say anything . . .’

  ‘About what? Is something wrong?’

  ‘Not wrong, exactly. It’s just – things aren’t quite the same between us. Since the boat trip.’

  Lynette leaned forward. ‘Look, you’ve forgiven him, and if things aren’t right, just give him the boot again.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that. No, it’s out of the question.’

  ‘Why? People break up all the time. You don’t have to stick with someone if you’ve changed, or he has.’

  ‘You make it sound so easy. Only thing is, I can’t do it.’

  ‘Do you want to? That’s the point.’

  As Monnie made no answer, Lynette said irritably, ‘Look, do you love him or not? That’s what you have to decide.’

  ‘I did love him,’ Monnie said slowly. ‘Now, I just know I’m in thrall. Under his spell, Paul says. How do you get out of that?’

  ‘Oh, Monnie!’ Lynette groaned and stubbed out her cigarette. ‘It’s very late,’ she murmured wearily. ‘I’ll have to go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning, eh?’

  ‘There’s not really a lot more to say,’ said Monnie.

  The morning brought no relief from Lynette’s feelings of unease. With Monnie silent and Frank lost in thought, having breakfast was like being in church, and as soon as she could, Lynette left for work and the bright prospect of seeing Ronan.

  But even that, for some reason, failed her.

  All the way to the hotel in the bus, she kept thinking about him and how much she loved him, but somehow the image of Edinburgh kept blurring the image, as it had that first night in the old flat. Stop it, she told herself, stop thinking of Edinburgh. Think of Ronan. Think of Ronan.

  But it wasn’t until she was in his office and in his arms, and they were kissing and caressing to make up for three lost days, that his magic worked and she felt the memory of Edinburgh receding.

  ‘Oh, Lynette, you don’t know how I’ve missed you,’ he kept murmuring. ‘Please don’t go away again.’

  ‘I was only away a weekend,’ she said, laughing, freeing herself from his arms.

  ‘Three days. It was a lifetime.’

  ‘You were busy, you wouldn’t have seen me, anyway.’

  ‘I’d have known you weren’t far away. That would have made all the difference.’

  ‘Listen, I’d better get back to work. Fionola was looking very knowing, when I knocked on your door. I bet Mrs Atkinson and even the porters will be smiling about it, as well.’

  ‘Hell, let them think what they like!’ he cried. ‘We’re as good as engaged, after all.’

  When she made no reply, he kissed her gently and ran his hand down her cheek. ‘You haven’t told me about your weekend,’ he said softly. ‘How was Edinburgh, then? Did Scott get to his appointment?’

  Oh, God, I said I’d tell him, she thought, with sudden anxiety. I promised I’d tell him. Oh, what does it matter? What’s a cup of tea?

  But she’d said she’d tell him.

  ‘Scott got to his appointment, all right, but he wouldn’t say what it was for,’ she said casually. ‘Even when we had a cup of tea in town, he wouldn’t say anything.’ After a moment, she added, to make all clear, ‘And Dad wasn’t with us, so Scott might have told just me.’

  ‘You had tea in town?’ Ronan seemed not to notice what she was trying to tell him. ‘I’m envious. Always enjoy tea in Edinburgh when I go there, which is once in a blue moon. Did you have a decent dinner somewhere? I expect Scott knows all the restaurants.’

  ‘He took us to a very good French one. Owned by a friend, he said.’

  ‘I was sure you’d do well on that score. Scott knows his food.’ Ronan glanced at his clock. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better let you go, dearest Lynette. Thank God you’re back.’

  They kissed again and he shook his head. ‘Can’t help feeling sorry for Scott, you know.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Come on, you know why. Because he cares for you and you care for me.’

  ‘You’re right about me,’ she said seriously. ‘I’m not sure about Scott.’

  ‘Love will out,’ Ronan said lightly, opening the door for her. ‘That’s why there’s no real point in trying to keep our feelings a secret. I don’t even want to.’

  She slid away, glancing back. ‘I’ll see you later, Ronan.’

  ‘Make sure you do.’

  Somehow, as she took up the reins again, Lynette still didn’t feel right. Headachy, weary, anxious, without knowing why. It was no surprise when Fionola commented on her looks, asking her if she was all right, not getting the flu, or something?

  ‘I thought you’d be even more full of life than ever, after your weekend away, you know. But you don’t look well.’

  ‘Don’t feel it, either. It’s odd, because I was happy, being back in Edinburgh – once I’d got used to it again.’

  ‘Know what I think?’ Fionola asked, nodding confidently. ‘I think you’re homesick.’

  ‘Homesick?’ Lynette stared. ‘What are you talking about? I’ve been here for months. I can’t be homesick!’

  ‘You’ve reminded yourself of home by going back. It’s obvious that’s what’s got to you.’

  Homesick. As Lynette turned away to answer the phone, she wondered, could it be true? Too bad if it was, for she couldn’t see herself going home again at any time soon.

  ‘Coming for coffee?’

  It was Scott, appearing at Reception, brown eyes dancing, generous mouth smiling. ‘Come on, it’s all ready and waiting, and I want to know how you’re feeling.’

  ‘A bit low, as a matter of fact. Missing Edinburgh.’

  ‘She’s homesick,’ Fionola put in, smiling wickedly. ‘Claims she’s not, but she’s got all the signs.’

  ‘Homesick?’ Scott raised his eyebrows. ‘Funny you should say that. I feel exactly the same.’

  ‘You do?’ asked Lynette.

  ‘Aye, and the best thing for it is decent coffee. Doesn’t cure it, just cheers you up. If you can’t have a whisky, that is.’

  ‘I don’t think I can spare the time for a break,’ Lynette said with a sigh. ‘I haven’t been back at work long enough.’

  ‘Just go,’ ordered Fionola. ‘The quicker you go and come back, the quicker I get my break, OK?’

  And Lynette did go to sit with Scott out in the gardens for a while, to sip his coffee, talk about their trip, and in the end to feel the better for the break. It wasn’t until she returned home late that evening that the blow fell.

  ‘Oh, Lynette, thank goodness you’re back,’ Monnie cried, running to meet her. ‘Something’s in the wind. Dad’s invited Ishbel and her family round tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘He wants to talk to them. Well, to all of us. About something important.’

  Something important. The sisters stood together, exchanging wide-eyed stares.

  ‘And we know what that is,’ Lynette said, after a moment.

  ‘We don’t really know. We could be wrong.’

  ‘So, why doesn’t he tell us first? I’m going to ask him now to tell us what’s going on. Where is he? In his office?’

  ‘No, right here.’ Frank was striding into the kitchen. ‘Lynette, glad you’
re back. You’re looking tired. Need an early bed, eh?’

  ‘What’s all this about telling us something important when Ishbel’s family comes?’ she demanded. ‘Why not tell us now?’

  ‘Because it affects everyone. Don’t ask me anything else, Lynette, I’ve decided what I’m going to do. Monnie, I think you and I should be in the common room. Goodnight, Lynette.’

  ‘Goodnight, Dad,’ she said blankly.

  Fifty-One

  They were like relatives, waiting to hear the reading of the will. Nervous, watchful, wondering what was coming.

  Or, at least, Niall and Sheana were wondering, as they sat in silence in Frank’s office the following evening, though Lynette and Monnie, sitting with them, were pretty certain they knew. Hoping he would prove them wrong, they kept their eyes on their father, and weren’t the only ones. Niall’s dark gaze was on him, too.

  ‘Mr Forester,’ he said, breaking the silence at last, his Highland voice rather strained, ‘how about telling us why we are here?’

  ‘Wish you’d call me Frank, Niall.’

  Niall hesitated. ‘Frank, then. Point is, we were wondering why you wanted to see us.’

  Frank cleared his throat. ‘I – that is, your mother and I – have something we’d like to tell all the family. An announcement, I suppose you could call it.’

  At his words, a certain rigidity came over Niall and he looked at once to his wife.

  ‘An announcement,’ he repeated. ‘Must be important, to call us over.’

  ‘Yes, it’s important.’ Frank looked across to his daughters and back to Niall. ‘The fact of the matter is that Ishbel and I have formed a relationship – a very close relationship – and we are . . . going to be married.’

  Another silence fell. In the distance, they could hear a radio playing faintly, and a sudden clatter, probably of pans. The hostellers were preparing supper.

  So it was true, what they’d been afraid of, Lynette was thinking desolately. And she had been so sure, after the trip to Edinburgh, that her father was not going to forget their mother and marry again. He’d said that seeing the flat again had brought it all back. By which he must have meant his love for Ma. And then he’d been so preoccupied since their return home, it had seemed as though he was rethinking what he was going to do. Yet all the time he’d been planning this bombshell.

  Her eyes sought Monnie, who seemed as though she was about to cry. ‘I got it wrong,’ she mouthed, but Monnie made no answer, and it was Niall who broke the silence. Slowly, he raised his eyes to Ishbel, on whose cheekbones, two circles of scarlet burned.

  ‘Mother, is this true?’

  ‘Yes, it’s true.’

  ‘You are going to be married again? To Mr Forester?’

  ‘To Frank, yes. We love each other.’

  ‘How can you say that? How can you put aside my father?’

  ‘I’m not—’ she began, but he spoke fast over her, his lips trembling, his eyes bright with emotion.

  ‘Yes, yes, you are. You are putting aside my dad, who gave his life in the war. What thanks is that to him? We have remembered him all these years and now you throw him on the scrap heap? Say you have a very close relationship with someone else, a man from Edinburgh we do not even know?’

  ‘How can you?’ Sheana cried, her green eyes fiery on Ishbel. ‘How can you hurt Niall this way? Forget his father, for a stranger?’

  ‘Stop it!’ Frank cried, putting his arm round the shaking Ishbel. ‘Both of you, stop talking to your mother like that. She is not putting aside your father, Niall, she is not throwing him on the scrap heap, any more than I’m throwing aside my dear Ellie, whose memory will never leave me. But your dad and Ellie are gone and we are here. The time’s come to move on, and we believe our loved ones would want us to do that.’

  Looking desperately towards his daughters, he lifted a hand from Ishbel’s shoulder as though in appeal.

  ‘You believe that, don’t you, girls? You know I haven’t forgotten your mother, but the time’s right to make a new life and it’s what she would have wanted. You believe that, eh?’

  All eyes went to Lynette and Monnie, sitting frozen in their seats.

  ‘I’m . . . not sure, Dad,’ Lynette said at last, as Monnie gave a quiet sob. ‘I – it’s going to take a bit of getting used to – you thinking of marrying again.’

  ‘But you want me to be happy? That’s what you’ve always said. If I wanted to make a fresh start, come up here from Edinburgh, you wanted that for me? In fact, you urged me to come, didn’t you? You urged me to take this job and start again.’

  ‘We never thought you’d want to marry again!’ Lynette flashed at him. ‘We’ve nothing against you, Ishbel, you’ve always been very kind to us, but we just never thought—’

  ‘Never thought is right,’ Niall said heavily. ‘Sheana and me, we never thought for a minute that there was anything going on between you and Mr Forester, Mother. Never for a minute!’

  ‘We never dreamed there could be talk of marriage,’ Sheana put in. ‘At your age.’

  ‘As though people of our age never get married?’ Ishbel asked, dabbing at her eyes.

  ‘Aye, maybe they do, but we never thought it of you,’ Niall declared. ‘We never believed you’d want to – and I still don’t believe it. I cannot believe it. I won’t.’

  He rose to his feet, pushing back his chair. ‘Look, this has been too much for me. I’m going to have to go home.’ He put his hand to his brow, which was shining with sweat. ‘Mother, I’ll – I’ll maybe see you . . . sometime – I don’t know—’

  ‘Oh, Niall, don’t go,’ she wailed. ‘We were going to have a cup of tea – we can talk—’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s no point in any more talk.’

  ‘Don’t leave your mother this way,’ Frank said, rising as Niall and Sheana moved to the door. ‘Can’t you see she’s upset?’

  ‘We’re all upset,’ said Sheana, taking her husband’s arm. ‘Specially Niall. I’m taking him home.’

  No one made a move to see them out, but they all could hear the front door bang and the next moment the sound of a car starting up and roaring away. Ishbel’s family had gone.

  ‘I thought they might – you know – have been expecting it,’ Frank muttered, as Ishbel collapsed back into her chair still shaking. ‘You were, weren’t you, Lynette?’

  ‘We’d guessed. But then Niall and Sheana haven’t been here.’

  ‘You think it was too much of a shock, then?’

  ‘Must have been.’

  ‘I never thought they’d take it so badly,’ Ishbel said faintly. ‘Maybe I should have just quietly told them myself, Frank. We made too much of it, asking them over.’

  ‘Aye, maybe I got it wrong. But there was no easy way.’

  ‘It’s fifteen years since my Robbie died in the war,’ Ishbel went on, half to herself. ‘In all that time, I’ve never looked at another man till you came, Frank. Then, it seemed so right. I thought Niall would understand.’

  ‘Look, he’s upset. It’s all been a shock to him. After he’s had a bit of time to think about it, he might come round.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I’ll make some tea.’ Lynette stood up, not looking at anyone. ‘Or, maybe coffee.’

  ‘I’ll make it,’ said Ishbel. ‘Will give me something to do. Who wants what, then?’

  ‘If I can’t have a whisky, I’ll settle for coffee,’ Frank muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

  When the girls said they’d have coffee, too, Ishbel said she’d make it for everyone and left them, walking slowly, as though she were much older.

  Frank, taking out his cigarettes, passed the packet to Lynette.

  ‘How do you two feel, then?’ he asked, as he lit Lynette’s cigarette and his own. ‘Monnie, were you crying just then? I never wanted you to cry.’

  ‘I was just thinking of the old days,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘You mean your mother. Do you really beli
eve I’ve forgotten her? I’ve tried to explain how it is. I thought you’d understand.’

  ‘Looks like our generation is not good at understanding,’ Lynette said shortly, watching the smoke of her cigarette curl away.

  ‘It was a shock for Niall. You were expecting it.’

  ‘It was still a shock.’

  ‘Hard to take in,’ Monnie murmured.

  ‘But if you think about it, surely you can see why Ishbel and I feel ready for a new relationship? It’s natural to want companionship – and love.’

  ‘You’ll have to give us time, Dad.’

  ‘All right,’ he said eagerly. ‘Take time, all you want, but don’t turn away from me, eh?’

  ‘We never said we’d do that,’ said Monnie.

  After they’d finished Ishbel’s coffee, there were still duties to be done in the hostel, but the girls told Frank to take Ishbel home, they’d look after things.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Oh, come on, we can do the sing-song as well as you,’ Lynette said. ‘And call lights out!’

  ‘I’ll be back long before then,’ said Frank, helping Ishbel into her light jacket.

  No more was said, except for sombre goodnights, as he and Ishbel left the hostel, and then the girls were alone.

  ‘Better get along to the common room,’ said Monnie. ‘Do I look as though I’ve been crying?’

  ‘No, you look fine. Well, shattered, but no one will notice.’

  Lynette, studying her own looks in a compact mirror, laughed a little. ‘Know what’s happened to us?’ she asked, snapping the compact shut. ‘We’ve been made redundant.’

  ‘Redundant?’

  ‘Well, we came up here to keep Dad company – look after him, if you like – and now he doesn’t need company, doesn’t need looking after. Our job’s over.’

  Monnie’s eyes were widening. ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t know. I thought there was more to being here than that. I thought we were happy here.’