by Anne Douglas
‘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.
‘Other shoe?’
‘You know, it’s what folks say, when they’re listening out for something that has to happen.’
‘Well, I say, we just carry on until it does.’
‘Shall we go out on Sunday?’
‘Of course. Why not?’
He shrugged, looking away, as they stood together in the foyer. ‘Shoe might have dropped by then.’
‘We’ll face it together, then.’
His face lightened. ‘It’s nice to hear you say that.’
‘Well, we are friends.’
‘Friends. Yes, we’re friends.’
‘Listen, Rusty, why don’t you come over for your dinner on Sunday? We can walk on the Shore in the afternoon.’
‘I can’t always be sponging on your mother,’ he protested. ‘It’s not long since she asked me to the engagement celebration – when Ben came over with his dad.’
‘They won’t be there this week, just came over for the celebration.’
‘It’ll be the wedding next, I suppose?’
‘That’s going to be very quiet. Just at the register office.’ Jess began to walk towards the box office. ‘See you on Sunday, Rusty.’
But on Friday, September first, Hitler invaded Poland, and by Sunday September third, Great Britain and Germany were at war.
The Prime Minister’s announcement came at eleven fifteen a.m. Addie, Jess and Rusty listened to it together, sitting round the wireless in the Leith flat, as bright sunshine streamed through the windows, and the smell of beef slowly beginning to roast in the oven made that Sunday morning feel like any other. But, oh, God, how it was different!
As Mr Chamberlain’s measured tones filled the room, Addie put her handkerchief to her eyes.
‘I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received . . .’
Of course not. As though Hitler was going to withdraw his troops from Poland just because he’d been asked to!
‘. . . and that consequently this country is at war with Germany. Now may God bless you all . . . I am certain that the right will prevail.’
‘Switch it off, Jess,’ Addie muttered. ‘Just switch it off, eh?’
‘So much for peace in our time,’ Jess murmured, doing as her mother ordered.
‘Poor old Chamberlain,’ Rusty said, shaking his head. ‘He’ll have to resign, I expect.’
‘I hope he does!’ Addie cried. ‘He believed what he wanted to believe. What good’s that?’ She dabbed again at her eyes. ‘Oh, I wish Marguerite was with us, eh? But she’s at Ben’s, making dinner for him and his dad.’
‘She’ll probably look in this afternoon,’ Jess said soothingly. ‘Shall I just do some potatoes, then?’
‘Here, I can peel a few spuds for you,’ Rusty offered, trying to appear cheerful, when an extraordinary wailing sound suddenly echoed round the room and held them, still as statues, staring at one another.
‘My God, what’s that?’ Addie cried. ‘It’s never an air-raid siren already, is it?’
‘I’m afraid it is.’ Rusty, at last finding the power to move, put his arm round Jess, who was standing with a small vegetable knife still in her hand. ‘It’s the Alert.’
‘What’ll we do?’ Jess asked. ‘Go down the stair?’
They were still debating what to do when, only a few minutes later, another sound rose around them, this time a long low melancholy note, rather than a succession of rising and falling wails.
‘The All Clear!’ Rusty cried. ‘Thank God for that! Must have been a mistake, eh? A false alarm.’
‘A mistake?’ Jess, breaking away from his arm was staring round the sun-filled room. ‘How? How could it have been a mistake?’
‘I’ve no idea, but it’s over now, anyway.’ He tried to smile. ‘Come on, let me have the knife, Jess, and I’ll do the peeling.’
‘Thanks.’ She managed an answering smile. ‘Ma, how about giving us some of that bottle of sherry Ben brought the other Sunday? We could do with it.’
‘Sherry?’ Addie repeated vaguely. ‘Oh, yes. Get the little glasses down, then.’ She put her hand to her brow. ‘I’m no’ one for the drink, but you’re right, we could all do with something now. Rusty, will you pour it?’
‘You bet! And thanks very much. What a morning, eh?’
‘I want to get out this afternoon,’ Jess said. ‘See if the world’s still standing.’ She raised her glass. ‘Here’s to peace.’
‘That’s too far away,’ Addie murmured sombrely. ‘I’ll say, here’s to us. May we all survive.’
‘Here’s to us,’ they echoed, and drank.
‘Now, let’s get on with the dinner,’ Jess cried, straightening her shoulders. ‘And then we can go out for our walk, Rusty. Everything has to go on just as usual, war or no war.’
‘What a hope,’ he replied.
Twenty-One
‘I don’t want to go to the Shore,’ Rusty declared, when they were out of the flat, the washing up done, the living room tidied, and Addie taking a rare rest in her little bedroom.
‘Why not?’ Jess asked, surprised at the firmness of his tone. ‘You know I like it.’
‘Yes, but there are too many people about on the Shore. Let’s go to the Links instead.’
‘All right, if it’s what you want.’
‘It is.’ He took her arm. ‘It is what I want.’
The afternoon was warm and pleasant, seeming, by contrast, to make the bad news of the day worse. But people were out, strolling just as usual in the golden weather, some talking in low voices, some only looking ahead with baffled eyes. What’s happening? they might have been asking. Who is going to take this away from us? What do we have to do?
In the wide spaces of the Links, however, it was possible, as Rusty had hoped, to get away from the crowds, once they’d left the main promenaders behind and moved towards the shrubs and trees, where there were seats and a few children playing ball.
‘Let’s sit down,’ Rusty said, pointing to a seat that was isolated in the distance. ‘Over there, where we can be on our own.’
‘What’s all this worry about people?’ Jess asked, sitting down on the rough bench that had been warmed by the sun.
‘I want to talk,’ he said seriously. ‘And I want you to listen.’
‘Don’t I always listen?’
He smiled briefly, as he sat near her on the bench and took her hand. ‘You know very well, I’m the one that listens.’
Shielding her eyes from the sunlight, she studied him, slightly raising her eyebrows. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before, Rusty. Is it because of what’s happened?’
‘Partly. I expect we’ve all been changed by what we heard this morning.’ He smoothed her fingers in his. ‘But I was going to talk to you, anyway.’
‘Talk, then,’ she said lightly.
‘All right. I want to tell you that I’m going to join the air force.’
‘The air force?’
Unprepared, she felt an instant pain, as though winded by a blow. So this was the beginning, was it? The big shake-up of their lives? The kaleidoscope of war sending them on the move, never to be the same again?
‘Rusty, I . . . I don’t know what to say.’
‘Try goodbye.’ His grey eyes were steady on her face.
‘I don’t want to . . . say goodbye.’ It came to her as a continued shock that that was true. She couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to Rusty. Why, he’d always been there, in her life, from the time they’d started work at the Princes together. How would she manage without him?
‘I’ll miss you,’ she said, bending her head. ‘We’re such good friends.’
‘No,’ Rusty said shortly. ‘No, we’re not friends. At least, I’m not. I’ve never been just your friend, Jess. Don’t pretend you thought that.’
‘I thought you were happy about it,’ she whispered, after a pause. ‘Being my friend.’
‘Happy?’ He laughed. ‘You’ve no idea, have you? What it’s been like for me? I used to think I’d like to get out of lodgings – have m
y own place – a flat, or a bedsitter. But then I’d have had to invite you, and I knew I couldn’t do it. Imagine having to sit around, watching you make tea, talking about being my friend – when all I wanted was to tell you I loved you.’ He loosed her hand from his and turned away his face. ‘To ask you to marry me. And, all right – make love. Why not? I’m just a man, Jess, a human being, for God’s sake. Not made of stone.’
For a long time, she was silent, her face bright red, her eyes cast down. Then she stretched out her hand and gently caressed his cheek as he sat like the stone he’d said he was not, until he very gradually relaxed and with a long shuddering sigh held her close.
‘Oh, Jess,’ he said with a sigh, ‘Jess.’
‘Rusty, I’m sorry,’ she murmured, her face against his. ‘You were wrong. I did know how you felt. But I just kept telling myself you were happy, because . . . well, I liked what we had. It was all right for me, I thought it was all right for you, but I was just selfish, eh? And never seeing straight.’ As tears came to her eyes, she brushed them away. ‘Now, I’m being punished.’
‘Punished?’
‘I’m going to lose you. You’re going away and we don’t know what’ll happen. And I feel so bad!’
‘There’s no need to feel guilty, Jess. You never let me think I was the one for you.’
‘Maybe you should’ve been,’ she said quietly.
For some time, he looked at her without speaking. Finally, in a low voice, he said, ‘There was Ben.’
‘Don’t think about Ben. He never existed.’
‘Oh, yes, you said that before. I wasn’t sure what you meant.’
‘I meant, he never existed for me, as a real person. What there was, I’d dreamed up.’ She touched his hand. ‘Had to learn that the hard way.’
‘And you have learned it?’
‘Well, I’ve let him go.’
Rusty sat back, pushing his hair from his brow, his eyes on Jess never moving.
‘So, where does that leave me? Am I in your mind now?’
‘Of course you are, Rusty!’
He held her hands again. ‘What I mean is, have I any hope? Please don’t look so far away. You know I love you, you know I can’t just be friends any more.’ He was beginning to crush her hands in his and his, she could feel, were trembling. ‘Jess, do you think you could ever marry me?’
