Anne Douglas (6 page)

Clearly he had no worries about whatever she wanted to talk to him about – see how he was smiling!

‘Oh, I’m all right,’ she answered quickly, lowering her gaze. ‘There’s nothing to be serious about. It’s just that a young man came into the shop the other day – he’s from Leith, works for the council helping the homeless – and we got talking – and – well – he asked me if I’d like to go up Arthur’s Seat with him.’

Finding the courage to look up again when she had finished speaking, she saw that Neil had stopped smiling. Stopped smiling and somehow changed. Changed from the Neil she knew to some other man, still handsome but cold, very cold, his grey eyes wintry, his face drained.

‘And what did you say?’ he asked. It seemed to Lindy that even his voice was different, as cold as his face.

‘I – well, I said I would. I mean, it’s been years since I went up Arthur’s Seat.’

‘You just wanted to see it again?’

‘No. Well, I did, but I’ll be honest, I thought it’d be nice to go with him.’

‘So, when are you going?’

‘Going?’

‘You said you would go,’ he said impatiently. ‘When? When are you going up Arthur’s Seat? With this fellow?’

‘Oh.’ She looked away. ‘We went yesterday.’

Though she couldn’t see him, she knew now how he would be looking. She also knew that her stepmother and Jemima had been right to try to prepare her for this, and that her own fears had been realized. Friend he might be, but Neil was not reacting like one. He was not saying, ‘Fine, I’m glad you’ve met someone you want to go out with, because I’m only a friend and it makes no difference to us, as long as we can still be friends ourselves’. And if he had said that, she knew she would have cried, ‘Oh, yes, that’s what I want too, Neil! Seeing Rod Connor will make no difference to us at all!’

Suddenly she was aware that the band was back and tuning up, that people were drifting from their chairs on to the floor while Neil was on his feet, looming over her. Surely they weren’t going to dance again at this moment?

They weren’t.

‘Better get your coat,’ she heard him say. ‘We’re leaving.’

Out in the street she thought they would be taking the tram home as usual, but when they reached the stop Neil strode straight past it and she had to run to keep up with him.

‘Wait, Neil, wait!’ she called. ‘Aren’t we taking the tram?’

He stopped and stood still until she reached him, his face still strange in its coldness as he looked down at her.

‘No, we’re walking,’ he snapped. ‘So that you can tell me what you think you’re playing at, without folk on the tram listening.’

‘Playing at? I’m no’ playing at anything! All I’ve done is go out with someone who isn’t you, but why should you mind?’ Lindy was shaking as she faced him, her voice quite high, her eyes glittering in the lamp light. ‘I’ve thought about it and I know I wouldn’t have minded if you’d met someone else, as long as we’d stayed friends. You’ve always said that’s what we were – just friends.’

‘Special friends,’ Neil said with emphasis. ‘
Special
friends, Lindy. That means something more than ordinary friends, eh? That we had a special affinity. Means I would never have taken out some other girl. Means I’ve a right to mind if you decide to see some other fellow – who’ll no’ want to be a friend at all. I don’t know him but I know what he’ll want, oh, God, yes, and you say I shouldn’t mind? I tell you, this news is pretty upsetting for me. Very upsetting, in fact.’

Turning on his heel he began to walk fast away again with Lindy calling and following, reaching him at last and catching his arm.

‘Neil, wait, will you? Please, wait, so I can talk to you – you said you wanted me to talk.’

‘Talk, then,’ he grunted, slowing his pace. ‘Tell me this guy isn’t like every other guy – just wants to go climbing with you, just wants nice talks? Who are you trying to fool, Lindy?’

‘You weren’t like everybody else,’ she said quietly. ‘You did just want nice talks, eh? Or maybe going to the pictures, or dancing, but only as a friend? Why should I think you’d mind if someone else wanted to see me when you didn’t want more?’

‘Maybe I do want more, then,’ he muttered after a silence, during which they walked together through the uneven streets of the Old Town, passing a few people – some the worse for drink who waved and shouted, until Neil shouted louder and they fell back in alarm.

‘Hell, Lindy, I don’t know what I want. I thought we didn’t want romance, didn’t want to be married. That was right, wasn’t it? So, we could just keep on as we were, seeing each other, kissing goodnight. I thought that was what we were happy with – friendship with no strings, eh? And you never seemed to want to go out with anyone else. Until now.’

‘Neil, I never dreamed –’ Lindy began. ‘I never thought—’

‘That I cared for you? Well, you care for me, don’t you? That’s why we’re special friends.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ she cried, her lip trembling. ‘I do care for you, Neil. It’s terrible to see you like this – so hurt, so wounded – and I did it, I’m responsible –’

She began to cry and he took her in his arms, his face softening, its coldness melting, his voice becoming his own again as he soothed her.

‘It’s all right, Lindy, it’s all right, don’t cry. Nothing’s happened that can’t be mended.’

‘Mended?’ she repeated, freeing herself, her hand dashing away the tears on her cheeks.

‘Well, how much do you really want to see this man again? You don’t know him, he doesn’t know you – it’d be no hardship to part, eh? Before you get in too far?’

‘You want me to do that?’

‘If you want to do it, Lindy. For me.’ Neil was being softly persuasive, his gaze on her intense, his hand round hers strong and warm. ‘If you choose me, rather than him.’

The choice was a stark one. Between Rod, the new man she had to admit she was attracted to, was at ease with and felt she did know, in spite of what Neil said. Or Neil himself, her old, dear friend, who meant so much, who was a part of her and had been for years. Oh, God, what could she do? There was no choice at all, really. At least, only one that she could make.

Slowly she went back into Neil’s arms, put her face against his and sighed deeply.

‘I can’t give you up,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t let you leave me. I won’t see Rod again.’

‘Oh, Lindy!’

For some time they stood together quietly, until their mouths met and they kissed, at first gently, then with a strength they hadn’t experienced before, which left them breathless and surprised.

‘I said I didn’t know what I want,’ Neil whispered. ‘But I know I don’t want to lose you.’

When Lindy finally let herself into the flat, she found her father dozing in his chair and Myra looking up from her sewing with her usual sharpness.

‘Well, you’re early, then! What happened? Did you tell Neil? Did you have a row?’

Lindy took off her coat and kicked off her shoes before replying.

‘I told him,’ she said at last. ‘He was upset but he’s all right now. Quite happy.’

‘Happy? With you seeing this other man?’

‘Happy because I won’t be seeing him.’

‘Ah.’ Myra rose, smiling, and folded her sewing. ‘Now you’re talking sense, Lindy. There was never any future in that, I’m telling you, but Neil’s a nice, steady lad. You won’t regret your decision.’

Making no reply Lindy glanced at her father, still sleeping, and felt like sleeping herself, just closing her eyes and shutting out all that made life difficult. Yet she knew that when she went to bed she wouldn’t sleep at all.

‘Like some cocoa?’ asked Myra. ‘I’m just going to boil the kettle. Give your dad a shake, eh? It’s time he woke up.’

The last thing Lindy wanted was cocoa, but if she took it she’d stave off the time for being alone and thinking about Rod, and how she was going to tell him what she must. ‘Yes, I’ll have some cocoa,’ she told Myra and bent to shake her father’s arm. ‘Come on, Dad, wakey, wakey!’

‘What’s that?’ cried George, his eyelids jerking open. ‘Who’s there? Lindy, is that you? Where’ve you been, then? And where’s Struan?’

‘Don’t know where Struan is but I’ve been out dancing, Dad. We’re just going to have cocoa.’

‘Cocoa . . .’ He sat up, rubbing his face and shaking his head. ‘Must have dropped off, eh? Have a good time, then?’

‘She did,’ called Myra. ‘And she’s told Neil she’s no’ seeing this other fellow, so that’s that.’

‘What other fellow?’ asked George. ‘I thought Neil was the one.’

‘He is now,’ Myra said with satisfaction. ‘Lindy, will you pass that tin o’ Marie biscuits? We’ll have one with our cocoa.’

Later, in bed, it was just as Lindy had expected – she couldn’t sleep. Could only think of the change in Neil; of how he’d changed from friend to – well, more than friend, in a matter of moments. She knew she’d been right in the choice she’d made – Neil meant too much to her to let him go, and now it seemed their relationship was going to be different, anyway – but, on the other hand, she wished that there hadn’t been a choice to make. How was she to tell Rod that she couldn’t see him any more? How to accept that that made her feel so bad? Because he wasn’t the only one who was going to be upset. The truth was she wanted Rod as well as Neil, but now knew that just wasn’t possible.

As Lindy guessed he might, Rod came into the shop on Saturday when he had time off. She had been preparing herself all morning in case he came early, but it was one o’clock when he arrived, just as Myra returned from her dinner break and Lindy was due to take hers. Couldn’t be better timing, except that Myra wasn’t pleased to see Rod in the shop at all and showed it, giving him a long, hard stare as he greeted her with a cautious smile, sweeping off his cap and murmuring a polite, ‘Good afternoon.’

‘I’ll just go for my break,’ Lindy said hastily. ‘Shan’t be long, Aunt Myra.’

‘Mr Connor going with you?’ Myra asked. She added pointedly, ‘I expect you’ve things to say.’

As Rod stared Lindy gave him a beseeching look and pulled on her jacket.

‘Back soon,’ she murmured and made for the door, followed by Rod, when he had replaced his cap and given Myra another of his smiles, which she did not return.

‘Lindy, what’s going on?’ he asked when they were both walking fast up Scott Street. ‘What did your stepmother mean by that – that you’ve got things to say?’

‘She shouldn’t have said that; it’s nothing to do with her.’ Lindy’s face was dark with anger. ‘But she can be like that – interfering, I mean.’

‘Well, if this is your time to be with me, let’s forget her,’ Rod said in a calming voice. ‘And if this is your lunch hour, may I take you somewhere to eat?’

‘Och, no, I’ll have something when I get back.’ Lindy slowed down and turned to look into Rod’s face. ‘For now, I just want to talk to you. My stepmother shouldn’t have said what she did, but it’s true, I’ve something to say.’

‘And why do I think I’m not going to like it?’

Though he was smiling as he reached for her hand and turned her towards the High Street, Rod’s eyes were showing his unease.

‘There are cafés all over the place round here,’ he said quietly. ‘Let’s have a sandwich and a coffee where we can have somewhere to sit.’

‘I only have half an hour.’

‘Not today. Your stepmother’s not going to say anything today.’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because she has the look of somebody who’s pleased things are going her way. She won’t worry if you’re late back.’

‘You’re a mind reader?’

‘Face reader. In my job you get to know a lot from the expressions on people’s faces. But never mind anyone else – let’s find a place to eat.’

When they’d been served with ham sandwiches and coffee in a café at the top of the High Street, Lindy’s gaze on Rod was long and sad. ‘Can you read my face now?’ she asked in a low voice.

‘I wish I couldn’t. But eat something, Lindy, eh? And I will, too.’

‘I’m no’ hungry.’

‘Got to eat,’ he said firmly, and after a pause Lindy began to eat her sandwich as Rod ate his.

‘Now, coffee,’ he ordered.

‘I could do with the coffee,’ she agreed.

‘To give you courage? Ah, come on, Lindy, you don’t have to say anything to me. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that you’re wanting to tell me we’re not going to meet on Tuesday. Are we going to meet again at all?’

‘I don’t think so, Rod.’

Staying calm, he took a moment to drink his coffee, only the hurt in his eyes giving him away.

‘The writer has spoken, has he?’ he said at last, setting down his cup. ‘You told him about me and he said no. Was that what happened?’

‘I never thought he’d mind,’ she said quickly. ‘I was maybe stupid, but I thought we could stay as we were, even if I wanted to see you. After all, I have this friend, Jemima, like I said, and she doesn’t mind who I see. I thought Neil should be the same.’

‘Oh, Lindy, Lindy,’ Rod sighed, putting a hand to his brow. ‘Come on, you must’ve known your Neil was no Jemima! He’s a man and a man can never be “just friends” with a woman.’ Rod put his cup aside and raised his eyes to Lindy’s. ‘In your heart you knew that, didn’t you? Weren’t you worried about how he’d take your news?’

‘I was,’ she admitted. ‘But I kept on thinking it’d be all right. Seemingly, I was wrong.’

‘So, what the hell does this fellow really want?’ Rod asked with sudden force. ‘Just to keep going out with you, getting nowhere? Bit of a dog in the manger, isn’t he? Stopping you seeing someone who might truly care?’

‘He cares now, Rod. Things . . . have changed between us.’

At her words Rod sat very still, and for long moments there was silence between them – until a waitress came up to crash their cups and plates on to her tray.

‘You folks finished? There’s others want this table, you ken.’

‘Sorry,’ they muttered, rising quickly. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Quite all right,’ she answered, mollified by the sight of the tip Rod was leaving on the table. ‘There’s your bill, then, just pay at the desk, eh?’

‘I’ll walk you back to the shop,’ Rod said heavily when they were in the street. ‘You won’t be too late.’

‘There’s no need for you to come with me, Rod.’