Starlight

by Anne Douglas

  ‘Wish we could both have finished early,’ Jess told Sally, buttoning up her coat, while Rusty stood champing at the bit, longing to get away. ‘Hate to leave you working.’

  ‘What nonsense!’ Sally cried. ‘It’s time you had a nice evening out. You enjoy yourself with Rusty, and don’t worry about me. Anyway, Arnold will be round later on. We’re going for a drink after I close up.’

  ‘Jess, can we go?’ Rusty groaned. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘Just coming.’

  Outside the cinema, the October wind hit them, buffeting them across Princes Street, as they held on to their hats and their scarves whirled. Facing them was the Mound – the artificial hill created when the old Nor’ Loch was excavated for the New Town – while on the skyline to their right, beyond the silhouette of the Assembly Hall, the great block of the Castle looked down. All very famous, and if they’d been tourists, they might have stopped to admire the splendour. All they wanted, however, was to get in somewhere out of the cold.

  ‘Shall we take a tram?’ Rusty asked as they began to climb the Mound.

  ‘Och, no, we’re only going to the High Street. No distance at all.’

  ‘Says you, because you’re fitter than I am. This hill’s pretty steep.’

  ‘You’re too much stuck in your projection box, that’s the trouble with you.’

  ‘I love it,’ he said seriously. ‘Just like you love your box office.’

  ‘We’re two contented people, then.’

  ‘Hey, I didn’t exactly say I was contented.’ Rusty took Jess’s arm in his. ‘Listen, I wish you’d have let me take you to that good restaurant I told you about.’

  ‘What, The Vinery? It’s far too expensive.’

  ‘Ben recommended it.’

  ‘Ben?’ As they reached the top of the Mound and began to turn for the High Street, Jess kept her eyes down. ‘So? He’s got more money than we have.’

  ‘I’m not worrying about the money, Jess. I wanted to make this evening something special.’

  She turned her gaze back to his face. ‘Look, we said we’d just go out as colleagues, eh? So, I’m going to pay my way, no arguments allowed, and the place we’ve chosen will suit me fine.’

  ‘Oh, God, you’re not suggesting we go Dutch? That’d spoil everything!’

  Jess gave a long sigh. Don’t say it, she groaned inwardly, don’t say Rusty’s the sort of chap Marguerite knows, who takes offence if a girl tries to pay? There were plenty who didn’t mind at all, as Jess knew from experience, but seemingly Rusty felt he’d be letting himself down in some mysterious way if he let her go halves on the bill.

  ‘Colleagues often go Dutch,’ she told him quietly. ‘Why shouldn’t I share with you?’

  ‘Like I said, I wanted to make this evening special. Special for you.’ His tone was light, but his look was serious. ‘It’s already special for me, anyway, because you agreed to come.’

  ‘OK, let’s say this time it’s special,’ she said, her heart softening a little. ‘But if there’s another time, we’ll think again.’

  ‘You mean, there will be another time? Jess, that’d be terrific!’

  ‘Come on – you said you were starving. Let’s get to the cafe!’ she cried. ‘I’m hungry too.’

  Ten

  In the High Street cafe Jess had selected for them, they ordered steak and chips with grilled tomatoes, and fruit tart to follow.

  ‘Of course, they’re no’ licensed here, so there’s no drink,’ Jess told Rusty, ‘but they do good meals and that’s what matters.’

  ‘I take it you know this place well?’ Rusty asked.

  ‘No, I’ve just come with friends now and again.’

  ‘The friends being male or female?’

  Jess leaned forward. ‘Listen, if I promise I won’t ask about your friends, will you promise no’ to ask about mine?’

  ‘Done!’ he answered with a grin. ‘But I can tell you this, there’s nobody in my life at the moment.’

  Studying him, she wondered why. There was no doubt that that was a handsome face across the table from her, and a pleasant one. She could imagine girls being attracted easily enough, especially by those unusual eyes, that smiling mouth. Yet, it seemed there was no one special, pining away for him, back in England?

  ‘You’ll know me again,’ he said suddenly, his voice very soft, and she gave a start of embarrassment.

  ‘Sorry, I was just wondering . . . why there was no one in your life at present.’

  He grinned. ‘Does that not count as asking about my friends?’

  ‘Sorry.’ She flushed a little. ‘Never mind, then.’

  ‘No, it’s OK. I don’t mind talking about it. Let’s say, I just never found Miss Right.’ He leaned forward. ‘But now I can ask – how about you?’

  ‘Oh, me.’ Lowering her eyes, Jess worked away on her steak. ‘Let’s say I’m no’ looking for anyone.’

  Thank goodness, Rusty needn’t know, she told herself, that if she wasn’t looking for anyone, it was because she’d already found him. And secretly hoped that he’d found her, even if so far he’d made no move to tell her.

  ‘Really love that job of yours, don’t you?’ Rusty asked cheerfully.

  ‘We did say, we liked our work.’

  In an effort to distract his attention from herself, Jess asked with an apologetic smile, ‘Listen, don’t think I’m nosey – though of course I am – but I wish you’d tell me how your folks came to live in England. I mean, if your father’s a Scot?’

  ‘I don’t think you’re nosey, Jess. It’s good you’re interested in me, because I’m interested in you.’

  ‘But we’re talking about you.’

  ‘OK. Thing is, it’s not so strange, you know, for Scots to end up in England – they’re usually looking for jobs. Anyway, before the war, my dad trained as an electrician, but there wasn’t much call for his type of work then and he wasn’t doing well. Somebody said he might have more luck down south, so, he upped sticks and went down to Woking.’ Rusty grinned. ‘Found work, met my mother, fell in love, got married.’ He raised his hands. ‘That’s how a Scot came to live in England.’

  ‘Sounds romantic. When did you come along, then?’

  ‘1914, just before my dad had to join up. He was lucky, he came back.’ Rusty paused. ‘Only died two years ago, in fact, just after my mum.’

  ‘Ah, Rusty, I’m sorry!’ Jess reached over to touch his hand. ‘I didn’t know you were on your own.’

  ‘It was a bit of a blow, I’ll admit, the two of ’em going. I got the house, of course, made a bit of money from the sale, put it into savings. But . . . what’s a house, Jess? What’s money? When you’ve lost your folks?’

  She pressed his hand more firmly, her eyes full of sympathy.

  ‘I know, Rusty, I know what it must have been like for you.’

  ‘Didn’t help that I lost my job when the cinema where I worked shut up shop. I think I told you that, didn’t I? And I couldn’t find anything else locally? Finally, saw an advert for this job in Edinburgh where my dad used to live, and thought I’d go for it – make a fresh start.’ Rusty’s eyes rested on Jess’s face. ‘So, there you are. That’s my story. Your turn now.’

  After some show of unwillingness, Jess finally told of her own short life – her father’s early death, her mother’s struggle, how she and her sister had still had a reasonably happy life in Leith – and Rusty listened closely. When she’d finished, he nodded, and for a moment pressed her hand.

  ‘Sounds to me like you’re a pretty brave family, Jess.’

  ‘We’ve been luckier than some.’

  ‘Well, you and your folks made the best of things and that’s to admire. One piece of luck for you, I think, was having a sister. I’ve always been sorry I was an only child.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ve got a sister,’ she agreed. ‘Did we say we were having the fruit tart?’

  They were silent until their puddings were brought, when Rusty said gently, ‘Am I speaking o
ut of turn, or don’t you get on with your sister?’

  ‘She’s called Marguerite and very beautiful. So’s my mother.’

  ‘Of course they’re beautiful – they’ll be like you.’

  ‘No, I’m no’ fishing for compliments. I’m OK. They’re more than that.’ Jess glanced swiftly at Rusty. ‘And I love them both – I do honestly. But . . . well, the thing is . . . Marguerite, being older than me, was always more of a companion to Ma, and a help to her, you see. So, they’re close . . . and I’m . . . no’ quite so close. Don’t think I’m complaining. I mean, they love me, too.’

  ‘I understand, Jess. I can see how it’s been.’

  They were both silent, concentrating on their fruit tart, until Rusty put his spoon down, pushed back the lock of hair on his brow and made a sign to the waitress.

  ‘As we can’t have a drink, Jess, let’s at least have coffee and get cheerful, eh?’

  ‘Rusty, I think anyone could be cheerful when you’re around,’ Jess said sincerely.

  When they had settled the bill, which they did quite amicably with Jess paying her share, they had to face the cold again, and it seemed natural that they should walk arm in arm up the High Street.

  The heart of the city, Jess told Rusty, for he knew little of its history. Apart from the castle, everything that was old and colourful could be experienced here, and the setts on the road, that the tourists called cobbles, had seen so many feet over the centuries – what tales could they have told?

  ‘Sometime, you’ll have to give me a guided tour,’ Rusty commented. ‘But what shall we do now?’

  ‘Well, it’s getting late – think I’d better get back home.’

  ‘Late? Why, the night is young!’ His face had fallen, making her feel guilty, which annoyed her. ‘We could at least go for a drink, seeing as we couldn’t have one with the meal.’

  ‘You mean, to a pub? Are you joking? My mother would shoot me. You know what pubs are like here – no’ for women.’

  ‘Sally and Arnold were going to a pub.’

  ‘Well, Sally can probably do what she likes. Ma keeps tabs on me.’

  Rusty sighed deeply. ‘All right, I’ll take you home, then. Don’t say I can’t come on the train with you, because I’m coming, whatever you say.’

  ‘I’ll say, thanks very much,’ Jess retorted, repenting of her irritation and laughing. ‘It’ll be nice to have company.’

  Eleven

  On the train, he sat close and told her he didn’t know Leith at all. His father had lived in the Old Town and that’s where his own lodgings were, but Leith was a complete unknown. Still, Jess, as a Leither, would be able to tell him all about it.

  ‘I’m no’ a Leither!’ she cried. ‘I’m an Edinburgh girl. Ma only took the flat where we are now because it was cheaper than where we were. But I love Leith, anyway. Some folk disapprove – say it’s all sailors and fallen women – but I say it’s exciting and a fine place to live.’

  ‘Another place for you to show me, then. At this rate, I’ll soon be an expert on this part of the world.’

  ‘You are half Scottish. It’s your world, anyway.’

  ‘I’ve got two worlds, that’s my trouble.’

  ‘You miss England?’

  He nodded. ‘And my folks. But, it’s strange, I do feel an affinity with Scotland. Maybe if I can get to be head projectionist some time, I think I’ll settle.’

  Jess’s eyes widened. ‘Head projectionist? Why, that’d mean Ben would have to leave!’

  ‘Wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?’

  At the coolness of Rusty’s tone, Jess said quickly, ‘No, but he’s very good, isn’t he?’

  ‘And handsome?’

  Jess stood up, clutching her bag. ‘Train’s stopping. We’re there.’

  ‘Didn’t take long.’

  ‘Won’t take long to get to where I live, either. It was nice of you to bring me home, but you needn’t have done, you know.’

  ‘Who’s talking about need? I wanted to take you home.’

  On the short walk to the flat, they didn’t attempt to link arms, and it seemed to Jess that Rusty had lost his usual good humour. Had she given herself away? Shown too clearly her dismay at the thought of Ben’s leaving? No, she’d recovered very quickly – he couldn’t have noticed anything. Still, when they reached her door at the side of Derry Beattie’s shop, she stole a quick glance at Rusty and saw that for the first time his face was turned away from her. He was certainly upset.

  ‘This is it,’ she said cheerfully. ‘This is where I live.’

  He stopped in his tracks, staring around at the traffic hurtling along Great Junction Street and the people hurrying by.

  ‘Where?’ he asked. ‘Where d’you mean?’

  ‘Here, over this greengrocer’s. We’ve got the flat upstairs.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ He looked up at the lighted, curtained windows, and suddenly seemed to relax. ‘Over a fruit shop – that’s nice.’

  ‘Used to love to look at the apples and oranges,’ she told him. ‘Used to love to smell all the different fruits and vegetables. Still do, in fact.’

  He was looking at her now, smiling down, as she was rapidly trying to decide whether or not she should ask him in. No, she didn’t think so. This was only the first time they’d been out, and if she were to bring him up to see her mother and Marguerite, they’d be sure to think he was more than she’d said he was. It was true, it was still not late and she felt bad ending his evening for him, but what could she do?

  On a sudden impulse, she reached up and kissed his cheek.

  ‘There you are, Rusty – a colleague’s kiss. Goodnight, and thank you for a lovely evening.’

  ‘A colleague’s kiss?’ he repeated, and took her in his arms. ‘Well, here’s another.’

  Not true, thought Jess, as his mouth met hers in a long, sweet and deliberate kiss. Oh, not true at all! Pulling herself away, she felt a touch of unexpected excitement coursing through her, and was annoyed with him again, that he should have been able to make her feel like that.

  ‘I thought you said you were going to behave yourself in future,’ she said coldly. ‘We’re supposed to be just a couple of colleagues.’

  ‘I was hoping you didn’t want just that.’ He was winding his scarf around his neck, keeping his eyes on her face. ‘I’m sorry, Jess, I couldn’t help myself.’

  ‘Yes, well, all right, but I’ve got to go in now.’ The effect of his kiss having now faded, Jess was feeling more in command and admitting to herself that she had been a bit unreasonable. Fellows did like the goodnight kiss, she knew that – it was just that she hadn’t expected Rusty to kiss her in that way.

  ‘See you in the morning,’ she told him. ‘Now, you’d better hurry for your train. Get out of the cold.’

  ‘We’ll go out again, won’t we?’ he asked quickly. ‘I haven’t been struck off your list?’

  ‘What list?’ She laughed. ‘OK, we’ll go out again. If we can fix it up.’

  But when he was walking slowly away and she looked up at what she knew to be the living room window, she thought she could just see a curtain being replaced and a figure move behind it. Marguerite taking a look at Rusty. Letting herself into the stair, Jess ran up to the flat. Talk about being nosey!

  ‘Well, what did you think of him?’ she asked at once, as her mother and sister looked up from another card game.

  ‘Who?’ Addie asked.

  ‘Rusty, of course. I saw you peeping, Marguerite!’

  ‘Heard your voices, couldn’t resist it,’ Marguerite answered blandly. ‘Seemed a lovely guy, from what I could tell.’

  ‘Yes, he’s very nice. Tall and handsome.’

  ‘Tall and handsome and very nice,’ Addie repeated with a smile. ‘But still no’ for you?’

  ‘No’ for me,’ Jess agreed.

  Twelve

  As autumn slowly turned to winter, things at the Princes were going well. Perhaps because people were easier in their min
ds after the Munich agreement and felt more like going out, ticket sales were up, which meant the staff, too, were relaxed, and even optimistic about the future.

  Trevor, the organist, outdid himself, playing his popular tunes, while the cafe was always full, and the usherettes couldn’t keep up with the demand for ice cream, which Jess had to keep on ordering. As for Mr Hawthorne himself, he was in a perpetually good mood, much given to praising everybody, particularly Jess, who was fast becoming, as Sally described it, his ‘blue-eyed girl’.

  ‘Honestly, I think if he could promote you somehow or other, he would,’ she told Jess, who only looked at her with widening eyes.

  ‘Promote me? Whatever are you talking about, Sally? I’m no’ looking to do your job, when you’re the best there is!’

  ‘Hey, listen to us!’ Sally cried, with one of her chuckles. ‘Are we the mutual admiration society, or what? But I don’t mean he wants to put you in my job – I just think he’d like to make you his assistant. Get you to help with the budgeting and cash handling and all his chores, because he’s got no help, you ken.’

  ‘How about Edie?’

  ‘She’s fine for what she does – secretarial and that – but she’s got no head for figures. She’d run a mile from a budget!’

  ‘He could do with an assistant, then,’ Jess said slowly, her mind fixed on new and dizzying prospects. ‘But there’s no such post, is there?’

  ‘Afraid not.’ Sally tapped Jess’s arm. ‘But you could always try for something at one of the big cinemas, after you’ve been here a bit. I tell you, you’re a natural for running things, and George would give you a good reference.’

  ‘Try for another cinema?’ Jess cried, scandalized. ‘Sally, I’d never leave the Princes! This is where I want to be.’

  ‘Ah, that’s nice, dear. But you’re ambitious, eh? Got to go where the work is.’