A Silver Lining

by Anne Douglas

  ‘I had great plans once, though I was lucky to get as far as I did. Now, of course, Allan’s away and that’s all I can think about.’

  ‘May, you’re doing good work at the hospital,’ Josh put in. ‘Don’t forget that.’

  ‘Might I ask where Allan is?’ Ross asked May gently.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure. He did mention Crete when he came on leave, but in his letters he never says.’

  ‘Must be difficult for you, May, on your own.’

  ‘Oh, we’re all in the same boat, aren’t we? And I’ve got Dad and Vi. Miss Jinny, though.’ May smiled and rose, saying she’d make the tea, and when her sisters went out to the kitchen with her, Josh looked at Ross.

  ‘Your regiment is still in this country, eh?’

  ‘That’s right, Mr Hendrie.’

  ‘Can’t say where, I suppose?’

  ‘Oh, I think I can tell you it’s the Isle of Wight.’

  ‘Way down a bit from here, that. Where d’you think you’ll go next, then?’

  ‘Ah, well, that I can’t say. But it will be abroad.’

  ‘Not to fight Jerry?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘But there’ll be fighting wherever you go. Take care of yourself, if you can.’ Josh put out his hand, which Ross shook. ‘I’ll wish you all the best.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Hendrie. I appreciate that.’

  ‘Now, here come the girls – let’s see if they’ve rustled anything up for tea. May told me she’d only one egg. Now, what can you make with that?’

  ‘Scones!’ May called across, setting down a tray. ‘No cake, though, I’m sorry to say.’

  ‘Home-made scones? What could be better?’ asked Ross, smiling at Jinny and her sisters, savouring the family atmosphere he had not himself known for many years.

  Fifty-Five

  When he and Jinny prepared to leave May’s some time later, there were more good luck wishes for Ross, as well as hopes that they might find something open for their last night out.

  ‘Aye, what there’ll be on a Sunday night in Edinburgh, I canna think,’ Josh told them. ‘There’s nothing open, eh? Dead as a doornail – that’s Auld Reekie on a Sunday.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, we do have a place to go,’ Ross told him. ‘My dad belonged to the Northener club in Abercromby Place, and I took out membership too. You can get a meal there, even on a Sunday, and women are welcome, as guests or members.’

  ‘You’re taking Jinny to the Northener?’ cried Vi. ‘Help, she’ll be about thirty years younger than everybody else, if what I’ve heard is true.’

  ‘Hey, what about Ross?’ asked Jinny. ‘He’s not old!’

  ‘Probably the youngest member,’ admitted Ross, ‘but you must admit, it’s handy, having a place to go on Sunday evening!’

  ‘You know what?’ asked Jinny a few minutes later on the tram. ‘I haven’t even begun to think about my new posting. I thought I’d be so nervous, but it’s all just gone out of my mind.’

  ‘You’ll be fine with the pay office, Jinny. You certainly don’t need to be nervous, anyway.’

  ‘Think I’ll get a stripe?’

  ‘You’re sure to. You’ll be a lance corporal in no time. The sky’s the limit for you.’

  ‘I don’t think so! But listen, I’m getting nervous now, going to your club. I mean, am I dressed right?

  ‘In your navy suit? You’re perfect.’

  ‘Is it true that everyone’s ancient?’

  ‘Well, they won’t see twenty-one again. But they’re OK. Middle-aged, mostly.’

  ‘As you say, it is a place to go.’

  ‘That just about sums up what clubs are for,’ Ross said wryly.

  The Northener, as it turned out, was a comfortable, well-kept establishment, without the subdued atmosphere usually associated with men’s clubs because of its mixed membership. Certainly, the women Jinny saw when she entered the dining room with Ross were talking freely, and though well-dressed, not so smart that she felt she needed to worry.

  ‘The food’s not particularly exciting,’ Ross whispered as they were seated at a corner table for two. ‘But they’ve got their problems with rationing the same as everyone else.’

  ‘I’m not worried about the food. After May’s roast I’m not really hungry.’

  ‘We can just have a ham salad, then, if you like. And some wine?’

  ‘Oh, no thank you, no wine.’

  ‘Just coffee to follow, then.’

  The ham in the salad turned out to be corned beef, but it wasn’t too bad, and the coffee served to them when they’d moved to the lounge was good and strong.

  ‘Nice,’ commented Jinny. ‘It’s not often you can get coffee like this. Even pre-war, Viktor was always complaining about our coffee—’ She stopped and coloured, but Ross shook his head.

  ‘You don’t have to worry about remembering Viktor,’ he said gently. ‘He was an important part of your life and memories don’t just disappear. I should know. I lived on them for long enough.’

  ‘It’s just a bit disconcerting for me, that’s all.’ Jinny finished her coffee and set down her cup. ‘Better make a move, I suppose.’

  ‘I don’t want to. When we go we’ll be on our way to saying goodbye, and I’m not looking forward to that.’

  ‘Nor am I.’ Jinny rested her eyes on Ross’s face. ‘These few days have been so nice, Ross. I’ve really enjoyed being with you.’

  ‘Tell me something.’ He leaned forward a little. ‘Do you see me – after these few days – in a different light?’

  ‘From the office?’

  ‘Yes, from the office.’

  ‘It’s odd, but you’ve just put into words what I’ve been thinking. I do see you in a different light. Is it the same for you with me?’

  ‘Very much so. That gap away from each other, away from the office seems to have made us into two different people.’

  ‘Two new people,’ suggested Jinny.

  ‘New people after years of already knowing each other and liking each other – does that seem crazy?’

  ‘No, just special.’

  ‘And we did say we were special friends.’

  ‘We did.’

  For some time, they stayed where they were, studying each other, then Ross reluctantly stood up.

  ‘Think we’d better go or they’ll be turning down the lights. I’ll just sign the bill.’

  Fifty-Six

  Outside in the elegant New Town street, where they could hardly see each other’s faces in the blackout, Jinny sighed and slipped her arm into his.

  ‘I don’t know that I want you to take me home, Ross. It’s too sad.’

  ‘Come on, we have to say goodbye.’

  ‘Maybe I could come to the station?’

  ‘That’d be worse. I hate station farewells. I know what they’re like. No, Fingal Street it is. Back to the tram stop.’

  ‘It isn’t as though I even know where you’re going,’ Jinny said when they were together on the wooden slatted tram seat. ‘I mean, I know you’re in the south, but you won’t be staying there, will you?’

  ‘We don’t stay anywhere for ever, but I’ll be writing to you. You’ll know where I am then.’ He moved his hand to take hers. ‘And I’ll be sure to get more leave one of these days, and when I do, I wanted to ask you – would you be willing to try to wangle leave yourself? So we could meet again. Would you want to do that, Jinny?’

  ‘I would, though whether I’d get it just when I wanted it I don’t know.’

  ‘As long as you want to see me again, that’s all that matters.’

  ‘I don’t know why you have to ask, Ross. We are special friends, aren’t we?’

  He pressed her hand hard. ‘That’s right. We are. As well as old friends who seem new. So we said.’

  ‘And it’s true,’ said Jinny.

  Though they put it off as long as possible, the time came when they reached the Hendries’ flat again and stopped in the darkness of Fingal Street, below the bla
cked-out windows.

  ‘This is it, then,’ said Ross. ‘Goodbye time. Or, we could just make it au revoir?’

  ‘That does sound better,’ Jinny agreed, looking up into his face that was so hard to see.

  ‘And we are going to try to meet again, aren’t we?’ Ross took her hands. ‘I just want to thank you again, Jinny, for making this leave so special – there goes that word again.’

  ‘It was special for me, too.’

  ‘But you had your family to see, yet you spared time for me. That’s what I appreciate.’

  ‘I had a wonderful time, Ross. I want to say thank you, too.’

  They were silent for a while, waiting to make the final farewell.

  ‘Wish I could see you better.’ Suddenly, Ross drew Jinny closer, and the thought came to her: now he would kiss her, with one of his friendly little pecks …

  But a friendly little peck, it wasn’t. As his mouth met hers, she was so taken by surprise at the passion of the kiss that she did not at first respond, but as it lengthened and deepened she found herself kissing him back with a pleasure she’d never expected to feel. Could this really be herself and Ross?

  ‘Special,’ he whispered, as they finally drew apart. ‘That was special. You didn’t mind?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Oh, God, I think I’d better go. The longer I stay the more difficult it is to leave. Look, I’ll write to you and we’ll meet again. Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘Au revoir, then, Jinny.’ He smiled in the darkness. ‘I’ll be seeing you, as the song says.’

  ‘Au revoir, Ross.’

  She watched him as best she could – saw him straighten his shoulders, wave and walk away, but soon he swallowed up into the darkness and all she had of him was the sound of his footsteps ringing out until there was silence. All she could do then was to open the front door and climb the stairs.

  ‘Guess what?’ cried Vi as soon as she saw her. ‘I’ve done it!’

  ‘Aye, she’s done it,’ Josh said from his chair. ‘She’s written her letter.’

  ‘What letter?’ asked Jinny.

  ‘My letter of resignation,’ Vi said grandly. ‘I’m joining the ATS, like you. Oh, I can’t stick around here any longer – I have to do something.’

  ‘And what I’m going to do, I don’t know,’ said Josh glumly. ‘I mean, who’s going to do my tea? Who’s going to take care o’ the house?’

  ‘I’d have to go anyway, Dad. They’ll be calling the women up next year, that’s for sure. And May says she’ll come over and do some cooking for you. She won’t have to go in the forces – she’s married.’

  Vi looked across at Jinny. ‘How d’you get on at that posh club, then? Och, I bet it was like having a meal in a graveyard, eh?’

  ‘It was very nice and very comfortable.’ Jinny took off her jacket. ‘I enjoyed it.’

  ‘You look a bit down, all the same. Saying goodbye to Ross, eh?’

  ‘It was a bit sad. But I’ve still got a day of my leave left. Maybe we can do something?’

  ‘Aye, I’m taking the day off for that. After I’ve been to the recruiting place we’ll fix up something. Cheer you up before you’ve to go to that Pay Corps place.’

  ‘That’ll be difficult. I’m terrified.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, a clever lassie like you,’ Josh said, rising. ‘Now, I’m away to my bed. Wish I could be with you tomorrow, Jinny, but I canna make it. You get leave again, soon, eh?’

  They all, unusually, kissed goodnight, and then Jinny was lying awake thinking about Ross, about that surprising kiss, about where they were going, if anywhere. And then her nerves came back and it was some time before she could sleep, worried as she was about her posting.

  Fifty-Seven

  Within a week, the worries were over.

  Hard to believe when Jinny remembered how nervous she’d been when arriving on her first day at the rather splendid Pay Corps premises, so anxious, so wearied by the crowded train trip. Cigarette smoke had hung like a pall in the carriage and was still in her hair when she reported to the ATS sergeant, along with two other newcomers she’d met at the entrance. Turned out they’d managed to find a taxi from the station, where Jinny had followed instructions and taken the bus.

  ‘You going where we’re going?’ one of them, a lanky young woman with reddish hair had asked, before introducing herself as Josie Marriott and her companion, thin and fair, as Pauline Sanders. ‘Reporting to Sergeant Abbott?’

  ‘That’s right. I’m Jinny Hendrie.’

  ‘From Scotland?’ asked Pauline.

  ‘How did you guess?’

  They laughed as a soldier who had to let them in took their names, ticked them off on a list and escorted them to plump, black-haired Sergeant Abbott, in a room where there were uniformed girls but only two men. All looked up from their work and smiled.

  After that, it had become hazy. Just as it had on Jinny’s first day at the training camp. So many different girls’ faces, so many different heads of hair – fair, dark, ginger, mousy. So much to take in all at once.

  I’ll never get this lot sorted out, thought Jinny, but at least the two men stood out, and Captain Norton, the officer in charge, was easy to distinguish, he being a man too – tall, with a limp and metal-framed spectacles. He shook their hands, said he was sure they’d enjoy their posting, and handed them back to Sergeant Abbot, who in turn had brought forward a girl with two stripes on her sleeve who said she was Corporal Holt and would be taking them to their billet.

  ‘It’s a country house not far away,’ she told them. ‘Mind walking?’

  They said they’d be glad of the fresh air and, as they only had small kitbags to carry, there was no problem.

  ‘Be prepared, usually, to march to the office and back,’ Corporal Holt added crisply. ‘But you’ll all be good at marching, eh? Being straight out of basic training?’

  ‘Don’t know about that,’ said Josie.

  ‘Oh, I hope so,’ said Pauline.

  ‘Right then, quick march!’ said the corporal. ‘No, I’m only joking.’

  The billet was really rather grand, or had been before it was requisitioned. The rooms were large and high-ceilinged, the fireplaces made of marble, the floors parquet blocks, and the windows, covered in anti-blast strips, were long and elegant. Even the dormitory where the three new girls were given beds showed signs of its former splendour as the upstairs drawing room.

  ‘Not bad, eh?’ asked Josie, slinging her bag on to her bed. ‘Gracious high living, except for the furniture.’

  ‘We could certainly do a lot worse,’ Corporal Holt remarked. ‘The pay office was custom built and it’s a nice place to work, but for us they’ve just got to find accommodation where they can. Sometimes in schools or colleges, old houses with leaking roofs and no bathrooms. I tell you, you’re lucky here.’

  When they’d washed and unpacked, they were returned to the headquarters to have a cup of tea at the canteen and were told to report back to Captain Norton.

  ‘But don’t worry,’ the corporal said, before leaving them, ‘real work’ll start tomorrow. The captain’ll just give you an introductory chat.’

  ‘Phew, I could do with this,’ sighed Pauline, drinking her tea. ‘Been on the go since crack of dawn.’

  ‘Where from?’ asked Jinny.

  ‘Essex.’

  ‘And I’m from Dorset,’ put in Josie, lighting a cigarette and avoiding, like the others, the appraising looks from a couple of soldiers eating doorstep sandwiches at the next table. ‘But I’d just like to get started, find out what we have to do. I was in the accounts office of an insurance firm so I reckon I should be OK, but I’d just like to know.’

  When Jinny had said that she too had accounting experience, Pauline cried ‘Snap!’, which made Josie declare that it was plain to see why they’d all been selected for the Pay Corps.

  ‘Maybe, but I’m still feeling nervous,’ Jinny admitted. ‘I’ll be happier when I kno
w what’s expected.’

  That was discovered soon enough, when Captain Norton outlined what the work of the command pay office entailed.

  ‘Not dealing with pay parades,’ he had told the newcomers, ‘but the paying of all bills, handling all the public monies involved in military services, the payments for requisitioned houses and land, renewal of equipment, or special reasons for replacing uniforms and so on. The office also gives advice on technical matters and on various costings of establishments. So, you see, we have a wide remit and plenty to do.’

  He gave a mild smile and removed his glasses for a moment to rub his eyes.

  ‘And of course there’ll be all the routine bits to learn as well – how invoices are handled, who signs what and that sort of thing, but I know your backgrounds and I don’t think you’ll find anything you’re asked to do too difficult.’

  ‘How many ATS girls are here, sir?’ Josie asked him as he replaced his glasses.

  ‘Eighteen, counting you three. All very friendly – you’ll soon get to know them.’

  Maybe, Jinny had thought, but so it had turned out, and by the end of the week she had indeed got to know a number of her colleagues and agreed that they were friendly. She’d also found her way around the headquarters, taken a trip into town to look at the shops, received a letter from Vi all about her recruitment, and had found time to write one in reply. There was nothing, as yet, from Ross, but she knew a letter would come. No doubt of that.

  As for the work, Ross had been right – it was more interesting than doing the bakery wages, or paying out soldiers’ pay. In fact, she was fascinated by the variety of the jobs that came her way and had no trouble in learning the routine.

  ‘Shouldn’t be surprised if you get your stripe soon,’ Sergeant Abbot commented, and Jinny thought, now, that would be something to tell them back home … and Ross, of course.

  Fifty-Eight

  Waiting to hear from Ross, she had been wondering what sort of letter he would write. Friendly, cheerful, or … romantic? After that farewell kiss of his, she wasn’t sure what to expect. Just how far did ‘special friends’ take them? Not so far as love letters, she guessed, and so it turned out, for when his first letter arrived, it was as Ross himself had always seemed to her – kind and understanding, generous of spirit, with the added bonus here of humour and descriptions of life on the Isle of Wight without giving too much away. He did, however, sign the letter ‘with love’, which didn’t necessarily mean anything. People would sign Christmas cards ‘with love’ when there was no actual love involved.