Primrose Square

by Anne Douglas

  ‘I do get a Saturday sometimes, but I usually see my folks at home then.’

  ‘Bring ’em with you. Why not? Look, tell me when your next Saturday is and we’ll work something out.’

  She was beginning to turn away, shaking her head, when he took her hand, pressing it in his own, and she stopped and stood very still. His touch. His hand in hers. She’d never before experienced such a sudden a rush of feeling. It was ridiculous. Crazy. He was only Barry Howat, somebody she’d known at school and who’d never meant a thing. Why, even when she’d seen him playing kick the can in the Wynd that time, she’d felt nothing for him. How had it come about that she felt so much now? Just when she shouldn’t be feeling anything at all?

  She knew she must go and walked away fast, skirting the railings of the gardens, not looking back, until she reached the area entrance to the club. On the steps down, she paused to straighten her hat and jacket before facing the staff at dinner, but Mrs Petrie’s sharp eyes still saw something awry.

  ‘My word, Elinor, what’s up with you? You look as though you’ve got the furies after you – whatever they are.’

  As Elinor, taking off her hat, made no reply, Mattie asked sympathetically if she’d found something for her headache.

  ‘They said they had this aspirin stuff, but it’s really silly – I forgot my purse.’

  ‘All that rush for nothing!’ the cook cried. ‘And now you’ve to be quick with your dinner, time’s getting on.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Elinor sighed. ‘I’m no’ very hungry, I’ll just have a cup of tea.’

  ‘Hope you’re no’ sickening for something,’ Mattie said, rising to put the kettle on. ‘You were that flushed before and now you’ve lost all your colour.’

  ‘It’s to do with that silly class you’re going to,’ Mrs Petrie declared. ‘No wonder you’re getting headaches, studying and that. What’s it all for, anyway?’

  As the maids at the table looked at one another, Elinor knew they were thinking of her ‘young man’, the one she’d met through the class. And so was she. At least – she hugged the thought to her – she hadn’t told Barry when she had the next Saturday afternoon free. He wouldn’t come to her home; he wouldn’t know when she’d be there.

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘Guess who was here last week?’ her father asked from his shop counter, when Elinor arrived home on Saturday two weeks later.

  ‘Who?’ she asked, turning cold.

  ‘Why, that footballer laddie, Barry Howat. Said he was playing football again, asked if we’d like to go.’ Walter gave a grin. ‘Think he was more interested in you going than us, mind.’

  ‘You told him I wasn’t here?’

  ‘What else? I told him I was working and Corrie was out, and your ma wouldn’t be going anyway. She came down and had a word with him, though. Said what a nice laddie he was.’

  ‘I certainly don’t want to go to another football match,’ Elinor announced, as she began to climb the stairs. ‘So he needn’t come here again.’

  ‘Now, there’s no need to be unfriendly. He means no harm. When you see him, try to be nice, eh?’

  ‘When I see him?’

  ‘Aye, I told him you’d be here today. Said he’d be along.’

  There was nothing for it but to go on into the flat, where Hessie sprang up, and said she’d put the kettle on.

  ‘Think you might have an admirer calling today, Elinor! Did your dad tell you about Barry Howat coming round? He said he’d come back – wants you to go to the football.’

  ‘Where’s Corrie?’ Elinor asked, frowning. ‘He could go.’

  ‘Gone to the swimming baths with a pal from work. Look, Barry’s a good lad. Why’d you no’ want to see him play?’

  ‘I’ve just got no interest in football.’

  ‘You don’t have to be interested in football to be interested in the players, Elinor. Or one player in particular.’

  ‘Anybody home?’

  Barry Howat was standing in the doorway, Walter behind him, smiling as though he was personally responsible for this appearance, while Barry himself was looking straight at Elinor, his eyes full of appeal.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind me barging in, Mrs Rae,’ he murmured, turning to Hessie after a moment. ‘Mr Rae said it was all right.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Walter said breezily. ‘Now you just have a cup of tea while I get back to the shop.’

  As he clattered out, Hessie, thrilled, began setting out cups, but Elinor made no move.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be going to your match?’ she asked, noticing that Barry was wearing a jacket and flannels. He didn’t look as though he was on his way anywhere.

  ‘No match today,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘Other side had to cancel. Messed up their dates, seemingly.’

  ‘What a shame!’ cried Hessie. ‘Well, you sit yourself down, Mr Howat . . .’

  ‘Barry, please.’

  ‘Barry, then. You sit down and have some tea – it’s freshly made . . .’

  ‘Thanks very much, Mrs Rae, but if it’s all right with you, I was wondering if Elinor and me could go for a walk. It’s a grand day.’

  ‘You might ask me, I’m standing right here,’ Elinor said coldly.

  ‘Now, now, Barry’s just being polite,’ Hessie said soothingly. ‘I’m sure that’d be lovely, eh, to get out in the sunshine. Elinor, you’d like to go, eh?’

  For a moment, she met the appeal in Barry’s eyes again, then looked down at the hat she’d just taken off.

  ‘Might as well.’ Moving to the mirror, she replaced the hat, as he watched. ‘All right, I’m ready. Though I’ll have to keep an eye on the time.’

  ‘You both come back here for your tea, eh?’ Hessie urged. ‘Just like you usually do, Elinor.’

  But there was nothing usual about this Saturday afternoon, Elinor knew, as she and Barry, nodding goodbye to her father, went out into the rare sunshine of Friar’s Wynd.

  ‘Where shall we go?’ Barry asked, putting a felt trilby hat over his thick hair. ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘Nowhere much to walk round here,’ Elinor muttered.

  ‘Have to take a tram somewhere. Botanic Gardens? The Meadows? All be crowded, of course, on a fine afternoon like this.’

  ‘That’s why I like the square. It’s never crowded.’

  ‘Canna get in, though, can you? Need a key and I bet you haven’t got one.’

  She tightened her lips. ‘No, I haven’t, but I can see the gardens very well.’

  He shrugged. ‘Look, let’s no’ waste time, eh? I say we get the tram down Nicholson Street and go walking in the Meadows. Plenty of space there, even if there are folk about.’

  ‘And won’t take too long. I have to be home for tea and then get back to the club for six.’

  ‘What a life! No wonder you’re looking for another job.’

  ‘We’re pretty well treated at the Primrose, to be honest.’

  He smiled as they reached the tram stop. ‘If you say so.’

  Sitting next to him on the tram, Elinor was afraid he would take her hand again but he didn’t, just bent his head to hers and whispered that it was good of her to agree to come out with him. He’d had no great hopes.

  ‘I don’t know why you still asked me, after what I told you.’

  ‘Thought it was worth a try. Seeing as you came over to meet me in the square.’ He added, in a lower tone, ‘And you’re here now, eh? You agreed to come.’

  ‘It was awkward for me, with Ma listening. I didn’t know what to say.’

  ‘Your Ma and Dad know about this someone you’ve got?’

  She stared out of the window at the shops and crowded pavements of Nicholson Street.

  ‘No, they don’t.’

  ‘Thought they couldn’t, the way they were welcoming me.’

  The colour rushed to Elinor’s face. ‘That’s just their way. Doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘Our stop, I think,’ he said blandly. ‘Melville Drive.’

 
From the lengthy road that was Melville Drive, they turned into the Meadows, a park made up of two large tracts of land, the east and west sites divided by a long walkway. As Barry had predicted, it was crowded with people, some playing ball games, others running around with children and dogs, or hurrying along the walk that was a short cut to the other side of town. Italian ice-cream men and balloon sellers were doing a good trade, and with the cries of the children, the barking of the dogs, and general atmosphere of holiday mood, Elinor turned to Barry and laughed.

  ‘See what I mean about the square being different?’ she asked.

  ‘I see you laughing,’ he replied. ‘That’s the first time today.’

  As she immediately grew serious, he took her arm.

  ‘There’s an empty seat over there – let’s grab it.’

  ‘We’re supposed to be walking,’ she said, conscious of his arm against hers.

  ‘No, we’re just supposed to be together. When a man and a woman go for a walk, they’re no’ usually thinking of the walking.’

  When they had had hastily reached the vacant seat, they sat down, taking off their hats and fanning themselves, smiling in triumph, until Barry’s smile faded.

  ‘Now,’ he said softly, leaning a little towards her, ‘tell me about this man in your life. The one that stops you seeing me. So you say.’

  Twenty-Nine

  Stephen. He wanted her to tell him about Stephen. How could she, when she felt so bad? For a moment, she closed her eyes, seeing Stephen’s handsome face, picturing it twisting, questioning, and it seemed to her that she should go. Just go, without saying a word. End whatever was happening here without another moment of regret . . .

  But when she opened her eyes, she found Barry’s gaze on her and made no move.

  ‘I – don’t want to talk of him just now,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I’d like to know about him.’

  ‘It seems wrong, though.’

  ‘You could say where you met him. I mean, is he in that class you go to?’

  ‘He’s the tutor.’

  ‘The tutor? He’s in charge? Teaches you?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘An educated man, then?’

  ‘Yes, he went to the university here.’

  Barry whistled and took out a packet of Woodbines.

  ‘Mind if I smoke? I’m trying to cut down – bad for my game – but I could do with one now.’

  ‘I don’t mind. Go ahead.’

  ‘Thing is, I understand why you didn’t want to tell your folks.’ Blowing smoke, Barry nodded his head. ‘You thought they’d no’ approve, eh? A university man – he’d never be right, never think you were right, so what’s he playing at, they’d be asking? That what you thought?’

  ‘More or less. But there’s another thing – tutors aren’t supposed to get involved with students, so Stephen said we should wait to tell folk until the course was over. Then we’d be free to do as we liked.’

  ‘Stephen . . . I’m glad you said his name.’

  ‘I wish I hadn’t.’

  ‘No, it’s good. Makes him more real to me.’

  ‘More real? Why would you want that?’

  ‘Because I want to win the battle with him. Canna fight a shadow.’

  ‘Barry, what are you talking about?’ Elinor had risen from the bench, her face turning white. ‘There’s going to be no fighting! No battle!’

  ‘Come on, I don’t mean real fighting!’

  Barry, laughing, stood up with her and took her hand.

  ‘You know I mean I’m going to try to make you forget him and go out with me.’

  ‘Look, this is all hopeless.’ She snatched her hand from him. ‘I’m never going out with you, so there’s an end to it. Let’s go back now.’

  ‘Wait.’ Barry ground out his cigarette in the grass and turned to face her. ‘Just hear me out, eh? I’d never try to steal another man’s girl if I thought she truly cared for him. Come between two people like that – it’d be the last thing I’d want to do.’ He slowly put his hands on her shoulders. ‘But I don’t think you do care for this Stephen, Elinor. Can you look me in the eye and say you do?’

  ‘You don’t know me, Barry. How can you say you know what I feel?’

  ‘I’ve got the cheek of the devil, but I think I know, all right.’

  He was drawing her closer to him, gradually enfolding her, his eyes steady on her face, and she was making no move to pull away, her great eyes returning his gaze as though they would never look away, until he kissed her lips, and then her eyelids closed.

  ‘Why did you come across the square to me?’ he whispered, as her eyes flew open and she began to free herself from his arms. ‘Why are you here with me now? If you care for him?’

  ‘People will be watching,’ she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘Let’s go, Barry, let’s go.’

  ‘There’s no one watching. We needn’t go yet.’

  But she was already on her way, hurrying from him, as though that would solve everything, knowing it wouldn’t, but not looking back. Of course, he caught up easily, stretching out his arm to take hers, but she shook her head.

  ‘No, it’s no use, Barry, I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t do what you want. I couldn’t hurt him. Don’t ask me to.’

  ‘All I’m asking is you do what’s right.’

  As they reached the tram stop, he let go of her arm and they stood together, breathing fast, not speaking until the tram arrived and they could take their seats.

  ‘You have to do what’s right for both of you,’ Barry murmured then. ‘That’s only fair.’

  ‘I do care for him,’ Elinor declared. ‘You’re wrong to say I don’t.’

  ‘You think you do. But you were just flattered, eh? Carried away that your teacher should’ve fallen for you. That’s all it was, Elinor, I promise you.’

  ‘Talking like that will do no good, Barry. I’m no’ listening, anyway.’

  ‘I’ll say no more, then,’ he said cheerfully. ‘But I bet you’ve heard what I’ve said. Think about it.’

  ‘You’ll come in for your tea?’ she asked, when they were back in Friar’s Wynd, but he shook his head.

  ‘Please thank your ma, but I’d best get back. Bettina will have something ready.’

  She hesitated. ‘Your sister looks after you and Georgie very well, I expect. I’m sorry about your mother and father.’

  ‘Aye, it’s been hard. Specially when Ma went. Only two years ago.’

  ‘Look, are you sure you won’t come in? My folks will be disappointed.’

  ‘Another time, eh?’ His hazel eyes sparkled. ‘Or won’t there be another time?’

  She shook her head. ‘Goodbye, Barry.’

  Though he made no move to kiss her again, she turned quickly into her father’s shop anyway, leaving him to touch his hat and walk away. Without, she noticed, saying ‘Goodbye’, or indeed anything at all.

  All the rest of that day and most of the night, she seemed to feel the strength of Barry’s kiss on her lips, so strong, so disturbing, and with that feeling came the memory of his words, moving round and round in her mind, round and round, so that she wanted to put her hands over her ears to shut them out . . .

  ‘I don’t think you do care for this Stephen, Elinor. Can you look me in the eye and say you do? You were just flattered . . . carried away that your teacher should’ve fallen for you . . . that’s all it was, I promise you . . .’

  In the middle of the night, while Mattie and Gerda slept the sleep of the just, she actually sat up and cried silently into the darkness, ‘No, no, no more, please!’

  But in the morning, after an uneasy sleep that did no good, she knew what she must do. There were two Thursdays left of the course, and on the first one that came at the end of the coming week, she must speak to Stephen. Not to say that she didn’t love him, for she did, in a way; he was so special. So fine a character, so handsome, clever, everything a woman could want. But she knew now that he was not the one
for her. She didn’t love him as she should, as Barry had already guessed; therefore it wouldn’t be fair to pretend that she did. The future they had hoped to plan couldn’t happen, and she owed it to Stephen to tell him as soon as possible. Which would be Thursday.

  But, oh, God, how was she going to get through the days till then? She had said goodbye to Barry, she was quite on her own. How could she face telling Stephen? Watch his face change? Feel the pain of the dagger she had slipped into his heart?

  Perhaps he wouldn’t be as hurt as she thought. Perhaps she was making too much of what she meant to him. She wasn’t vain, she didn’t want to think she had the power to hurt him, but her own heart told her that she wasn’t making a mistake. Telling him the truth of her feelings was going to wound. And not only him.

  As she tried to find the courage to face the next few days, she knew that no one must know, or guess, what she was going through. Secrets, secrets. There had been too many. When all this was over, she vowed never again to have a secret in her life, but just then she couldn’t imagine being as free as that.

  Thirty

  Stephen knew, of course, as lovers do, that there had been a change. Though Elinor had tried to be just as usual at his last-but-one class, she could tell, by his thoughtful look on her whenever she glanced up from her notebook, that he had sensed something was different. She herself was thanking heaven that the session was mainly devoted to revision; for all her thoughts were with the time to come when she would be alone with him, she could never have learned anything new.

  At the end of class, when she was putting on her jacket, he managed to catch her eye before being surrounded by other students, and nodded imperceptibly. A sign, she knew, that they would meet as usual on the tram, which was what she wanted, yet sent her heart sinking. Surely someone would notice that her hands were trembling as she adjusted her hat? Surely, she had become very pale? Even Brenda, however, noticed nothing.

  ‘Oh, next week’s going to be so exciting, eh?’ she whispered to Elinor. ‘When we all get our references?’

  ‘What references?’