Starlight

by Anne Douglas

  ‘You’ve had something to eat?’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’ He moved to the door.

  ‘Better take your coat, it’s colder tonight.’

  ‘Colder weather on the way, maybe?’

  He took his coat from the peg in the hallway, and pulled on a tweed cap.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘But I did try, didn’t I? Thing is, Jess, it’d be no good asking me to try again. I couldn’t do it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t ask you.’

  When he’d gone, she sat down and picked up the evening paper and read each page carefully. No tears blurred her vision, which was good. But then she’d already decided that there would be no more tears. What else there might be in the future, she’d no idea.

  As she rose and began to prepare her solitary supper, she knew she’d just have to take each day as it came. Never worked out, did it, to try to make plans?

  Fifty-Two

  ‘What you need is cheering up,’ Sally told Jess in her office one January day. ‘Now we’re living in the Ice Age, who doesn’t? But I think we should give ourselves a nice day out.’ She looked hopefully at Jess’s face. ‘What do you say?’

  Jess thought about it.

  ‘Living in the Ice Age’ just about summed up their situation in January 1947, as the whole country bowed in submission to the worst winter since the nineteenth century. Blizzards, snowdrifts, frost that never thawed, iced-up cars, burst pipes – even elderly people could not remember anything quite so severe. To make matters worse, increased demands and difficulties in transportation had brought about a fuel crisis, which was now threatening power cuts. Faced with the worry of perhaps having to close the cinema, how could Jess expect take a day off?

  ‘Sorry, Sally,’ she said at last. ‘The way things are, I don’t think I’d dare to be away for a whole day.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Sally flung back her hair, which was now no longer blonde but bright red, and waved a warning finger at Jess. ‘That’s just a piece of nonsense! When did you last take any time off?’

  ‘I’d like to have a day out, but if we do get these power cuts, you know I’d be needed here.’

  ‘There’ll be warnings, they say. Times when to expect them. Anyway, they’ve no’ happened yet. Let’s just hop on the train to Glasgow and have a look at the sales, eh?’

  ‘Glasgow?’ Jess shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Sally.’

  ‘Look, we could plan to go and then if there were any possibilities about power cuts, we’d just stay grounded. I mean, it’s no’ that far to Glasgow, is it?’

  ‘I suppose we could see if they’ve anything different in their sales. There’s nothing much here.’

  ‘Too right. Nothing but that utility stuff. So, we could look round, have a bit of lunch and get the early train back. My mother can pick up Magnus from school for me, but I’d no’ want to be too late home.’

  ‘What day would you suggest we go?’

  ‘Well, you know I don’t come in on a Tuesday. So that’d be the best day for me.’

  Conscious of Sally’s bright eyes on her, Jess hesitated.

  ‘I suppose I could ask Ben to keep an eye on things. And maybe phone in when we get there.’

  ‘Perfect! Shall we say next Tuesday, if you’ve got nothing in your diary? It will do you good, Jess, I promise you, and you really should look after yourself a bit better, you know. You’ve been looking so pale lately.’

  ‘Thanks so much for that.’ Jess attempted a smile. ‘You haven’t changed, have you, since George used to call you a fusspot?’

  ‘And you know what happened to him,’ Sally said darkly. ‘Do you think Tuesday will be free?’

  ‘I’m sure it is.’

  ‘That’s settled, then. Oh, my, I’m really looking forward to a get-together with you, Jess. For a nice long chat, eh?’

  Depends on the chat, thought Jess.

  The following Tuesday lunchtime, wrapped up in winter coats, hats, scarves, mittens and boots, they made their way to the station, avoiding the unchanging banks of snow at the roadside, gazing up at the great, gaunt city buildings outlined in white.

  ‘Pretty, eh?’ Sally asked Jess, as their breath blew in clouds. ‘If you hadn’t already seen it all for weeks on end.’

  ‘Christmas cards will never be the same again,’ Jess said with a smile. ‘What would it be like to go abroad for some sun?’

  ‘Can’t even imagine it. Here’s the station. Careful on the incline, Jess.’

  ‘I’m already walking as though I’m ninety years old,’ Jess said cheerfully, realizing that she was beginning to look forward to this snatched day out, was in fact already feeling a guilty pleasure, as though she were playing truant from school.

  ‘Well, you don’t look ninety, dear. Your cheeks are quite rosy!’

  ‘That’s just with the cold.’

  ‘No, it’s because you’re escaping,’ Sally said shrewdly. ‘When you’ve finished looking round all the new clothes in Glasgow, you’ll be looking quite your old self.’

  ‘I don’t even know if I’ve any clothing coupons left. Haven’t thought about clothes for ages.’

  ‘So, you’ll have some coupons left. Anyway, we needn’t buy anything – can just window-shop if we feel like it.’

  As the Glasgow train wasn’t in yet, they huddled on to a bench in the waiting room, which was no warmer than the platform but which at least they had to themselves.

  ‘Remember when they used to light fires in the waiting room?’ asked Jess. ‘Now even the station’s got no coal.’

  She sat back on the hard wooden bench, pulling up her coat collar and rubbing her arms with her mittened hands, her cheeks still rosy and her face looking prettier, Sally thought, than it had seemed for some time.

  ‘Oh, it’s good to see you relaxing, Jess,’ she said earnestly. ‘You’re having a rough time, we all know, but if it’s any help, we do understand what you’re going through.’

  The silence in the waiting room after she’d spoken was as icy as the atmosphere.

  ‘Going through, Sally?’ Jess echoed at last. ‘Why, what am I supposed to be going through?’

  Sally shook her head. ‘Look, there’s just the two of us. No need to pretend. Might do you good, in fact, to talk about it.’

  ‘Talk about what?’

  Sally clicked her tongue. ‘Your Rusty, of course.’

  ‘Sally, I am not going to talk about Rusty. Is that why you asked me to come out with you?’ Jess’s rosy colour was now deepening. ‘To talk about him?’

  ‘Oh, Jess, you know nothing was further from my mind! We’ve been friends for so long, how could you think that? I only wanted to cheer you up, that’s all. I never even intended to mention Rusty and I’m sorry now I did.’

  Jess lowered her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, too, then. It was silly of me to say anything. I suppose I’m just . . . over-sensitive at the moment.’

  ‘And who’d blame you? Look, let’s say no more, eh? Least said, soonest mended.’

  ‘No, I’d like to know what you mean. When you said everyone understood – what I was going through.’

  Sally looked down at her handbag and fiddled with its clasp. ‘It’s his drinking.’

  Jess caught her breath. ‘His drinking? You’re saying . . . everyone knows?’

  ‘Well, dear, it’s very difficult to keep secrets in a place like the Princes. We do kind of live in each other’s pockets, eh? And Rusty’s no’ been himself for some time.’

  ‘And nobody’s said anything?’

  ‘Well, they wouldn’t. But they see the poor lad at lunchtimes, and sometimes in the evenings, you know. Fred told me he’d seen him in the projection box when everybody’s gone home, just sitting . . .’

  ‘Oh, God – drinking alone?’

  Sally nodded. ‘But everybody knows what he went through in the war. They know how hard it is to adjust.’

  ‘I’d no idea anyone knew,’ Jess said unhappily. ‘No idea at all.’

/>   ‘Nobody’s thinking badly of him, Jess. They’d like to help, only there’s nothing they can do. But some of us were wondering if he’d seen a doctor at all? Might be a good idea.’

  ‘Flatly refused. Also walked out of the help group he was going to try.’ Jess stood up, shivering. ‘In fact, just at the minute, Sally, I can’t think of what to do next. But I think that might be our train I can hear – we’d better check.’

  ‘Poor lassie,’ Sally murmured, as they hurried out of the waiting room door. ‘But things will look up, Jess, they always do. The tide’ll turn, you’ll see.’

  ‘It is our train,’ Jess murmured, determined now to think of something other than her troubles on this day of escape. ‘Let’s see if we can find a seat.’

  ‘Are you joking?’ Sally was turning on a smile. ‘War might be over, but it’s still standing room only on the trains.’

  Surprisingly, though, they did find seats and by the time they arrived at Glasgow Queen Street, were feeling more cheerful and ready to enjoy their little break.

  ‘First stop, coffee,’ Sally announced, as they joined the throng moving out from the platform to the main station concourse. Then both she and Jess stopped, as though pulled to a halt by some giant puppet-master’s string. For some little way ahead of them was a familiar, graceful figure, now swaying towards a tall man in a dark overcoat who was taking off his hat and calling a name.

  ‘Marguerite! Marguerite! Over here!’

  And Marguerite went into his arms.

  Fifty-Three

  ‘That was Marguerite,’ Jess said dazedly. ‘She must have been on our train, and we never knew.’

  ‘Aye, because we were in the waiting room, never saw the folk on the platform.’ Sally’s face was alight with excitement, as she caught at Jess’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s see where she goes with that fellow, then.’

  ‘No, no.’ Jess was holding back. ‘I don’t want to, I don’t want to spy.’

  ‘Think they’re going for a taxi, anyway.’ Standing tall, Sally was trying to see over the heads of the passengers leaving the station. ‘Who can he be, Jess? Ex-RAF, I can tell you that, and an officer. Did you see his handlebar moustache? I can spot those chaps a mile away, though I was army, of course.’

  ‘I don’t care who he is,’ Jess said wildly. ‘I just feel too upset. I mean, what about Ben?’

  ‘What we need is our coffee. Let’s get out of here and find somewhere to recover.’

  ‘Recover? I don’t think I’m going to recover in a hurry, Sally. After what we’ve just seen.’

  In a small cafe off George Square, they discovered they could get toasted teacakes with butter, and decided to make them an early snack lunch.

  ‘Before we hit the sales,’ Sally said cheerfully, but Jess was in no mood to be cheered.

  ‘I don’t know that I feel like shopping now,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s really shaken me, seeing Marguerite meeting another man like that.’

  ‘I know, dear, and I’m no’ being unfeeling. It’s just that I don’t want your day spoiled, just when I finally got you to agree to leave work for once.’ Sally looked down at the butter deliciously melting on her teacake and finally took a bite, dabbing at her lips with a paper napkin. ‘There’s nothing we can do, after all. I mean, it’s Marguerite’s problem, and Ben’s – even if he doesn’t know it yet.’

  ‘He did tell me he was worried about her,’ Jess said after a pause. ‘He thought she seemed different. Towards him, he meant.’

  ‘He’s been confiding in you?’

  ‘We were sort of confiding in each other.’

  ‘So . . . what did you say? About Marguerite?’

  ‘I told him no’ to worry.’ Jess drank coffee gloomily. ‘Said I was sure she hadn’t changed, or we’d have heard about it. Now I wish I hadn’t said anything.’

  ‘You had to say what you thought.’

  ‘Well, I never in this world dreamed there was another man, Sally. But the way they were on the platform – it’s no new thing, is it? I think it’s been going on a long time.’

  ‘Can’t go on much longer, if you ask me. These things always come to a head sooner or later. And if Ben’s already suspicious, he’ll probably have it out with Marguerite and then she’ll have to make a decision. About what she wants to do.’

  ‘You don’t think she’d leave him?’ Jess asked fearfully, her heart thumping.

  ‘I think it’s quite on the cards.’ Sally’s tone was matter-of-fact. ‘Listen, do you think it’d be greedy to order another teacake? They’re really generous with the butter here, eh?’

  Fortified by the coffee and food, Jess agreed in the end to go shopping with Sally, though her heart was not in it. Try as she would to take an interest in the sales, she found her thoughts constantly returning to that scene in the station, when she had seen her sister with a man who was not Ben.

  But what could she do? Not tell Ben himself, that was for sure. Even to think of seeing him again, meeting his dark gaze, making small talk, sent her heart plummeting. When she knew what she knew.

  He had been so sympathetic about Rusty’s refusal to seek help. Had tried his best to cheer her up, to find some sort of hope, while his own life, though he didn’t know it, was crumbling to pieces around him.

  All she could do, Jess decided, was to speak to Marguerite. Surely she couldn’t really be contemplating leaving Ben for the man with the handlebar moustache?

  While Jess moved unseeingly around the stores, Sally got into conversation with the saleswomen. One older woman, amazingly well made up, considering that cosmetics were so hard to find, seemed determined to get Sally into one of her bargains, while Sally remained just as determined not to buy.

  ‘Thing is, there’s no’ much here that gets my fancy,’ she confided. ‘Maybe I’d best wait for these new fashions I’ve been reading about.’

  ‘What new fashions?’ the saleswoman asked frostily. ‘What we have is the latest thing, Madam, though much reduced, of course, in price.’

  ‘Well, I did hear that there was something new going to hit us all very soon. All hush-hush, seemingly, but definitely on its way. Some Frenchman’s idea, they say.’

  ‘Most fashion ideas come from Paris, Madam, but I can promise you that anything you buy here will be absolutely right. Now, would you perhaps like to try one or two things on?’

  ‘Sorry, we have to be going – our train, you know. Thanks all the same!’

  With an apologetic smile, Sally, grasping Jess’s arm, moved smoothly towards the lift.

  ‘Hate being pressured,’ she whispered. ‘Though I suppose these folk have got their job to do.’

  ‘Had you really heard about new fashions?’ Jess asked, trying to show interest.

  ‘Sure I had! Looks like we’ll all be wearing skirts to our ankles before the year is out. Suits me, seeing as my legs are as plump as ever. But, listen, Jess, weren’t you going to ring Ben, to ask if everything was OK?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think I need, Sally. We’ll be back soon.’

  ‘You’ll have to speak to him some time, dear.’

  Not before I’ve spoken to Marguerite, thought Jess.

  Fifty-Four

  At coffee time the following morning, Jess worked on at her desk, waiting for the knock on her door she knew would come. Sure enough, when she had just given another glance at her watch, the light tap sounded.

  ‘Come in!’ she called, and rose, as Marguerite put her head round the door.

  ‘Got your note,’ she said coolly. ‘What’s all this about?’

  ‘Take a seat, Marguerite. I just want a word.’

  ‘It had better be quick, my break’s nearly over.’

  Marguerite, in her waitress’s uniform, complete with cap, came slowly forward to take the interview chair. As she sat down, the light from the window fell full on her face, and Jess thought, as she so often did: She’s just like Ma, isn’t she? Never grows any older. See, hasn’t a line on her brow . . .

  ‘Jess,
can you get on with it, whatever it is?’ her sister asked irritably. ‘I did say I’d to be back soon.’

  Jess sat back, her mouth a little dry.

  ‘Thing is, Marguerite, Sally and I went to Glasgow yesterday.’

  Only the slightest flicker of her lovely eyes betrayed Marguerite’s reaction.

  ‘So?’ she asked lightly.

  ‘So, we saw you. On the platform. Meeting someone.’

  Marguerite hesitated for a moment, then pulled off her cap and sat with it in her hand.

  ‘All right, you saw me. What do you want me to say?’

  ‘I want you to tell me what’s going on, that’s all.’

  ‘Is it any of your business?’

  ‘I’m family, aren’t I? Apart from that, I’m thinking about Ben.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Jess asked, flushing.

  ‘Just what it sounds like. Naturally, this affects Ben.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad to hear you say so. But who is this fellow you’re meeting, Marguerite? How long has it been going on?’

  Marguerite looked down at her cap and shrugged. ‘I suppose I might as well tell you. His name’s Guy Powrie. I met him during the war, when he was a Squadron Leader. Now he’s with his father’s law firm in Glasgow.’

  ‘You’ve kept up with him all this time?’

  ‘No, we just met up again about six months ago. In the cafe, when he’d come over for the day on business.’ Marguerite gave a little smile. ‘Said he couldn’t believe his luck.’

  ‘Oh, Marguerite!’

  ‘All right, I feel bad about Ben. I’m no’ going to try to make excuses. But these things happen, eh?’

  ‘You and Ben,’ Jess said slowly, ‘you were so much in love . . .’

  ‘Too much so.’ Marguerite stood up. ‘Doesn’t last, that sort of love.’ She gave Jess a long hard look. ‘What are you going to do, then?’

  ‘Me? Nothing. It’s you who’s got to decide what to do.’

  ‘Are you going to tell Ben?’