by Anne Forsyth
‘Nancy?’
‘Joe?’ She was puzzled. Joe seldom rang her at work. Today he had a day’s holiday and he’d planned to work in the garden, to get the ground ready to plant his sweet peas.
‘What is it?’
‘Now don’t worry—I don’t want to alarm you . . .’
‘Joe—’ She was alert now. ‘What is it?’
Suddenly she felt that something must be terribly wrong. Why should Joe ring her out of the blue?
‘Tell me quickly.’
‘It’s Matt,’ Joe said. ‘There’s been an accident.’
Nancy took a deep breath.
‘Go on,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
‘He’s had a fall . . .’
‘Oh, no . . . he’s . . . he’s . . .’ Her voice rose.
‘No, no. They think he’s maybe broken a leg and cracked a few ribs.’
‘Where is he? What happened? Is he conscious?’
‘Now calm down.’ Joe’s voice was reassuring. ‘They’ve taken him to the hospital in Dunfermline. They’ve got to do some X-rays . . .’
‘Can I see him?’ Nancy interrupted.
‘I’m on my way. Go straight to the hospital, and I’ll meet you there . . . Now don’t get upset. They think he’ll be OK. Get a taxi—and try not to worry . . .’ He rang off.
Nancy put down the receiver.
‘I’m sorry.’ Mr Hardy paused on his way out of the office. ‘Bad news?’
‘My son—he’s a welder on the bridge—he’s had a fall.’ Nancy gulped. ‘This is what I’ve always been afraid of. They think he’s got some broken bones but at least—’ her voice broke—‘at least he’s alive.’
She fumbled with the papers on her desk.
‘Those letters—they’ve to go off tonight. But I’d like to leave early, get a bus to the hospital.’
‘Forget the mail,’ said Mr Hardy firmly. ‘You get your coat on. My car’s just along the street—I’ll run you to the hospital.’ He silenced her protests. ‘The sooner you get there and see him for yourself, the sooner your mind will be at rest.’
Nancy managed a watery smile
‘That’s—very kind of you. But—the office . . .’
‘We’re closing early today,’ her boss said firmly. ‘Come on, Nancy—get your coat and bag and we’ll be off.’
* * *
Nancy followed the nurse down the corridor. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Apart from the fracture and some bruising, yes. He’ll be out of action for a bit, though.’
‘Matt, what happened!’
‘Hey, Mum—mind my leg.’ Matt tried to joke, but he winced as he attempted to sit up.
‘Don’t move,’ said Nancy, thinking as she said it how stupid this sounded. ‘How did it happen?’
‘I don’t know.’ Matt frowned. ‘I just slipped. Lucky that Doug was just behind me . . . It could have been worse . . . ’
Joe appeared at the door.
‘I got here as soon as I could, son.’
‘It’s nothing really,’ Matt said as cheerfully as he could. ‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’ll be out of here in no time and back to work.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Nancy said grimly.
The staff nurse put her head round the door.
‘We’re taking your son to X-ray, Mrs Mackay,’ she explained. ‘And then the leg will be put in plaster.’
‘How long will he be here?’ Nancy asked.
‘That depends on what the doctor says.’
The nurse turned to go.
‘I’ll send a nurse with you to X-ray,’ she added.
‘Don’t wait,’ Matt told Nancy. ‘Or you, Dad. I’ll be OK.’
‘Come on, Nancy.’ Joe put a hand on his wife’s arm. ‘We’d better go. We’ll be in later this evening with anything you need,’ he told Matt.
‘It could have been a lot worse,’ he said to Nancy as they left the ward.
* * *
‘I won’t be in till late tonight,’ Lorna said. She spooned up the last of her fruit yoghurt and reached for a piece of starch-reduced crispbread.
‘I’m meeting Pete,’ she explained.
‘What about your tea ?’ Nancy said evenly.
‘I’ll have a sandwich after work, or a poached egg on toast in the café.’
‘If you’re sure that’s enough.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Lorna said affectionately, ‘don’t worry, I won’t starve.’
What a relief it was, thought Nancy, to know where Lorna was and who she was with. Pete was reliable—both she and Joe liked him. They seemed serious about each other, though Lorna was young yet to be thinking of settling down.
‘Shouldn’t you have a cardigan, or a raincoat?’
Once, Lorna would have snapped at Nancy but now she just laughed.
‘You still think I’m a kid, don’t you? It’s not going to rain—I’ll take a jacket, though.’
Nancy was getting ready to go to work.
‘Have a nice time, dear. And bring Pete for a meal next time he’s got a day off.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Lorna went off, humming.
They’d agreed to meet at the bus station in Dunfermline and go to their favourite coffee bar. And at the weekend, maybe they’d go to the pictures.
It was still hot and sultry when she left the office.
‘Going to be a storm tonight,’ she heard one of the other girls saying to her friend. ‘It’s been a grand spell, but the weather’s breaking.’
Lorna glanced out of the window at the heavy clouds. Oh well, she thought, it didn’t matter. She’d soon be with Pete and they’d be inside the warmth of the coffee bar. And Pete was always prompt.
But when she reached the bus station there was no sign of him. Funny, she thought, it wasn’t like Pete to be late. She looked around, but there was still no sign of him. Maybe the bus hadn’t arrived.
‘Is the Kelty bus in yet?’ she asked an inspector.
‘Yes, about quarter of an hour ago—right on time.’
I’ll just have to wait, she thought, pulling her jacket around her. The evening had turned chilly.
And then it began to rain. Lorna peered out from the shelter of the bus station, watching for Pete’s bus. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly eight o’clock and they’d arranged to meet at quarter-past seven. What could have happened?
The wind was rising and the rain drove relentlessly across the area, sending passengers scurrying for shelter, and blowing umbrellas inside out.
Lorna shivered, wishing she’d listened to her mother and brought a raincoat or an umbrella, at least.
It was quarter-past eight when a thought suddenly came to her. Had they arranged to meet at the bus station? But they always did. Or had they planned to meet at the café? She couldn’t be absolutely certain.
There was no sign of the weather clearing. Suddenly she decided. If he wasn’t in the station, maybe he was at the café.
She pulled her jacket over her head, and running as fast as she could on her high heels, dashed across the tarmac, almost bumping into a man coming in the other direction.
‘Steady there! You all right?’ He caught her by the arm.
‘Yes, I’m OK.’
Lorna kept on running until she reached the café and pushed open the door. Inside it was warm and steamy, but at least it was dry.
‘Hello, there—you’re a bit wet, aren’t you?’ The girl behind the counter knew Lorna well. ‘What’s it to be? Coffee?’
‘Please.’
Lorna took off her dripping jacket and shook it, accidentally shaking the drops over a girl and her boyfriend holding hands at a nearby table.
‘Do you mind?’
‘Sorry—I didn’t notice.’
* * *
Lorna caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind the counter. Her make-up was streaked—the mascara she’d applied so carefully was running in black rivulets down her cheeks. And her hair—her carefully back-
combed hairdo had come adrift from its anchor of kirby grips, and her fringe was plastered to her brow.
‘Jen, has Pete been in?’
The girl shook her head.
‘Not tonight. And I’ve been here all the time. Stood you up, has he?’
Lorna didn’t answer but took her coffee and sat down in dignified silence.
What had happened to Pete? He had never been as late as this before. She decided she would give him another half-hour. Or should she ring home in case he’d left a message there?
She decided the best thing was to go home. The evening was ruined anyway, and she was soaked through. She would order a poached egg on toast or baked beans, and after she’d eaten, head for the bus station.
And then the door burst open. Lorna looked up and there was Pete, his gaze scanning the café. As soon as he spotted her, he came over to the table.
‘I’m sorry, love. I couldn’t get here earlier. When you weren’t at the bus station, I thought you might be here.’
Lorna was so glad to see him, she reached across the table and gave him a hug.
‘You’re not mad at me?’
‘I was worried,’ Lorna said.
‘Lorna—’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I missed the bus for a reason.’
He paused.
‘I had a bit of a row with Dad, and I couldn’t just walk out. I’ll get some more coffee—and then we’ll have something to eat.’
Returning to the table with the two cups, he said, ‘As I was telling you . . .’
‘You had a row with your dad?’
‘It’s a bit awkward,’ Pete said. ‘You know Mick . . . ?’
Lorna nodded—yes, of course she knew Pete’s best friend, Mick.
‘Well, he works in the family’s engineering business. It’s just a small firm, but they’ve good local connections. And he wants me to join them. I’d really like to—it’s the sort of thing I’ve always wanted to do. I’d learn from the shop floor up—there isn’t any money at home for me to go to technical college, so it’s a great chance. I know his dad—he’s a good sort. But . . .’
‘But?’ Lorna prompted.
‘I’d not meant to speak about it, not yet. I hadn’t really decided. But Mum put her foot in it. She told Dad Mick had left a message wanting me to let him know—about the job.
‘“What job?” Dad says. And then, of course, I had to explain and that was when he flew off the handle. Our family has always worked down the pit, what was I thinking of—that kind of thing.
‘I lost the place a bit.’ He frowned. ‘We had a shouting match, if I’m to be honest. Him saying I was throwing up a good job, me saying there wouldn’t be jobs down the mines for ever. Mum saying, you should listen to your dad—and then bursting into tears. After a bit I couldn’t stand it any more and walked out. But by then I’d missed the second bus.’ He drew a deep breath.
‘Poor you. That’s families all over,’ Lorna said sympathetically. ‘He’ll have cooled down by the time you go home.’
‘I doubt he will,’ Pete said.
He went on.
‘It’s right enough about the pits. There won’t be so many jobs in the future. But Dad won’t see it that way. Our family have always been miners—and I’ve to follow him and Grandpa . . .’
Lorna reached across the table and laid her hand on his.
‘Why don’t you wait a few days and talk to him about it—some time when you’re together and things are a bit quieter? Explain what your prospects are—he’ll see it your way, I’m sure.’ She stopped and smiled. ‘Listen to me, giving advice. If my mum could only hear me.’
‘No,’ Pete said thoughtfully. ‘That makes a lot of sense .’
He drained his cup.
‘There’s another reason I want this chance, Lorna. It’s a job with good prospects, and I can learn a lot. I could be promoted. And that means more money—I could afford to think about getting married, getting a house—’ His voice trailed off.
Lorna looked down at the table, tracing a pattern on the plastic cloth.
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘Lorna,’ Pete said urgently. ‘I know we’re both young. But I—I love you, Lorna, you know I do . . . And maybe in a year or so, if you feel the same way as me—maybe we could get engaged? What do you think?’
‘Oh, Pete.’ Lorna laughed. ‘You do choose your moments! Just look at me—hair in rats’ tails, make-up ruined, jacket soaking wet . . .’
‘You look smashing to me,’ Pete said. ‘You always do. So, what do you say, Lorna?’
Lorna stopped laughing and looked at him. ‘Yes, Pete. I love you, too . . .’
* * *
‘Come in, Pete.’ Nancy greeted him warmly. ’You’re early, lad. Lorna’s not back yet.’
Pete shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
‘It’s not Lorna I’ve come to see, Mrs Mackay. I wondered if I could have a word with Mr Mackay.’
‘Of course,’ Nancy said. ‘He’s in the living-room. Away you go in.’
Joe was sitting by the fireside, reading a newspaper. He glanced up as Pete came into the room.
‘Hello, lad. You’re early. Lorna’s not in yet. Take a seat while you wait for her.’
What did the lad want? Joe sighed and folded the newspaper.
‘So how are you?’
Joe liked Pete, a shy lad, who always seemed a little ill at ease. Tonight, for some reason, he was even jumpier, and kept glancing out of the window.
‘I’m fine, thanks.’
‘We’ve had a grand spell lately,’ Joe said. The weather was always a safe topic. ‘I’ll need to get the hose on the garden if it’s going on like this.’
‘Aye,’ Pete answered eagerly, desperately wondering what else he could talk about.
‘Have you had your tea?’ Joe asked kindly.
‘Thanks, Mr Mackay, but we’ll be going out for a bite to eat, Lorna and me, and then maybe to the pictures.’
‘I’m not one for the pictures much myself,’ Joe said. ‘Especially not now we’ve got the television.’
‘Mr Mackay,’ Pete said suddenly, ‘that’s—that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about . . .’
‘The television?’ Joe was a little surprised.
‘No . . .’ Pete became more tongue-tied than ever.
‘What I wanted to see you about,’ Pete said a little desperately, ‘was Lorna and me.’
Joe looked blank.
‘We’ve known each other a good while now,’ Pete went on hurriedly, for Lorna would be in at any minute.
‘You have that,’ Joe nodded. ‘And it’s fine that she’s got a boyfriend. Mind you, she’s a popular girl, my Lorna. The lads are crowding round her to ask her out.’
‘I’m sure,’ Pete said miserably.
‘She could have her pick,’ Joe went on impressively. ‘I’d like to see her settled with a nice lad who could provide for her. Still, she’s young yet. And what about you, lad—?’
‘I’m—’ He drew a deep breath. ‘I’m just a miner, Mr Mackay, and my folk are miners. I’m thinking of joining a pal who’s got a business.’
‘I’ve nothing against miners,’ Joe said slowly.
‘If you knew my family,’ Pete said eagerly, ‘you’d see they were decent folk. My dad—he doesn’t go down the pub on a Saturday. And my mother—well she’s a grand person.’
‘I’m sure they are, son,’ Joe said kindly. ‘But it’s a different way of life. Not like ours. Lorna’s used to our ways.’
Pete was quite firm.
‘Mr Mackay, if Lorna marries me, she’ll be made welcome in my home.’
* * *
Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you saying you want my permission to marry our Lorna?’
‘I know she’s young, and I am, too,’ Pete burst out.
‘Well, seeing you’ve come to ask,’ Joe said, ‘because I gather that’s what you’re getting round to, I’ll tell you straight, the answer’s no. She
’s much too young.’
‘We’re prepared to wait,’ Pete said firmly. ‘But as soon as she’s twenty-one, we can get married. Though,’ he added, ‘we’d rather have your permission.’
‘Aye,’ Joe said thoughtfully. ‘Well, you can see yourself, there’s a lot against you.’
‘Not all that much,’ Pete insisted. ‘I’m young, and if I go into the engineering business I’ll have good prospects. A good wage.’
‘It’s a long time away,’ Joe said. ‘Suppose you get engaged and save up to get married, and she meets someone else in the meantime? She’s young to know her own mind—especially about something as important as getting married.’
‘I’d take that risk,’ Pete said staunchly.
‘And another thing—where would you live? Not here,’ Joe said hastily. ‘We haven’t got the room, with the lodgers and all.’
‘We could live with my mum and dad, to begin with.’
‘And what does your mum say to that?’ Joe asked. ‘I bet she’ll not like the idea of another woman in the place, interfering, getting in the road.’
‘Lorna wouldn’t interfere.’
‘You don’t know our Lorna!’ Joe grinned. ‘No, I suppose what I’m saying, with all these objections, is that Lorna’s too young. She’s my little girl still, and I don’t want to lose her.’
‘But Mr Mackay . . .’ Pete’s face shone with sincerity. ‘I don’t want to lose her, either.’
There was a pause as Joe looked across at the lad, sitting awkwardly in his best suit, his hands on his knees. His mind went back to the day he’d asked Nancy’s dad for permission to marry her. Her father had objected strongly—it was 1939, Joe was sure to be called up, it was too risky a time to think about marriage and settling down.
But he’d at last persuaded Nancy’s father and here they were, coming up to the silver wedding.
‘All right, lad,’ he said. ‘I can see your mind’s made up. You can get engaged, but that’s as far as I’ll go. And you can save up for your first home. And that’ll give you time to get to know each other. So—well, I’ll agree.’
The door burst open.
‘Pete!’ Lorna stood on the threshold, smiling.
‘I knew you’d be here tonight. Well . . . ?’
‘Your dad’s agreed, Lorna, he’s given his permission.’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Lorna flung her arms round Joe’s neck.
