Starlight (12 page)

‘Other shoe?'

‘You know, it's what folks say, when they're listening out for something that has to happen.'

‘Well, I say, we just carry on until it does.'

‘Shall we go out on Sunday?'

‘Of course. Why not?'

He shrugged, looking away, as they stood together in the foyer. ‘Shoe might have dropped by then.'

‘We'll face it together, then.'

His face lightened. ‘It's nice to hear you say that.'

‘Well, we are friends.'

‘Friends. Yes, we're friends.'

‘Listen, Rusty, why don't you come over for your dinner on Sunday? We can walk on the Shore in the afternoon.'

‘I can't always be sponging on your mother,' he protested. ‘It's not long since she asked me to the engagement celebration – when Ben came over with his dad.'

‘They won't be there this week, just came over for the celebration.'

‘It'll be the wedding next, I suppose?'

‘That's going to be very quiet. Just at the register office.' Jess began to walk towards the box office. ‘See you on Sunday, Rusty.'

But on Friday, September first, Hitler invaded Poland, and by Sunday September third, Great Britain and Germany were at war.

The Prime Minister's announcement came at eleven fifteen a.m. Addie, Jess and Rusty listened to it together, sitting round the wireless in the Leith flat, as bright sunshine streamed through the windows, and the smell of beef slowly beginning to roast in the oven made that Sunday morning feel like any other. But, oh, God, how it was different!

As Mr Chamberlain's measured tones filled the room, Addie put her handkerchief to her eyes.

‘I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received . . .'

Of course not. As though Hitler was going to withdraw his troops from Poland just because he'd been asked to!

‘. . . and that consequently this country is at war with Germany. Now may God bless you all . . . I am certain that the right will prevail.'

‘Switch it off, Jess,' Addie muttered. ‘Just switch it off, eh?'

‘So much for peace in our time,' Jess murmured, doing as her mother ordered.

‘Poor old Chamberlain,' Rusty said, shaking his head. ‘He'll have to resign, I expect.'

‘I hope he does!' Addie cried. ‘He believed what he wanted to believe. What good's that?' She dabbed again at her eyes. ‘Oh, I wish Marguerite was with us, eh? But she's at Ben's, making dinner for him and his dad.'

‘She'll probably look in this afternoon,' Jess said soothingly. ‘Shall I just do some potatoes, then?'

‘Here, I can peel a few spuds for you,' Rusty offered, trying to appear cheerful, when an extraordinary wailing sound suddenly echoed round the room and held them, still as statues, staring at one another.

‘My God, what's that?' Addie cried. ‘It's never an air-raid siren already, is it?'

‘I'm afraid it is.' Rusty, at last finding the power to move, put his arm round Jess, who was standing with a small vegetable knife still in her hand. ‘It's the Alert.'

‘What'll we do?' Jess asked. ‘Go down the stair?'

They were still debating what to do when, only a few minutes later, another sound rose around them, this time a long low melancholy note, rather than a succession of rising and falling wails.

‘The All Clear!' Rusty cried. ‘Thank God for that! Must have been a mistake, eh? A false alarm.'

‘A mistake?' Jess, breaking away from his arm was staring round the sun-filled room. ‘How? How could it have been a mistake?'

‘I've no idea, but it's over now, anyway.' He tried to smile. ‘Come on, let me have the knife, Jess, and I'll do the peeling.'

‘Thanks.' She managed an answering smile. ‘Ma, how about giving us some of that bottle of sherry Ben brought the other Sunday? We could do with it.'

‘Sherry?' Addie repeated vaguely. ‘Oh, yes. Get the little glasses down, then.' She put her hand to her brow. ‘I'm no' one for the drink, but you're right, we could all do with something now. Rusty, will you pour it?'

‘You bet! And thanks very much. What a morning, eh?'

‘I want to get out this afternoon,' Jess said. ‘See if the world's still standing.' She raised her glass. ‘Here's to peace.'

‘That's too far away,' Addie murmured sombrely. ‘I'll say, here's to us. May we all survive.'

‘Here's to us,' they echoed, and drank.

‘Now, let's get on with the dinner,' Jess cried, straightening her shoulders. ‘And then we can go out for our walk, Rusty. Everything has to go on just as usual, war or no war.'

‘What a hope,' he replied.

Twenty-One

‘I don't want to go to the Shore,' Rusty declared, when they were out of the flat, the washing up done, the living room tidied, and Addie taking a rare rest in her little bedroom.

‘Why not?' Jess asked, surprised at the firmness of his tone. ‘You know I like it.'

‘Yes, but there are too many people about on the Shore. Let's go to the Links instead.'

‘All right, if it's what you want.'

‘It is.' He took her arm. ‘It is what I want.'

The afternoon was warm and pleasant, seeming, by contrast, to make the bad news of the day worse. But people were out, strolling just as usual in the golden weather, some talking in low voices, some only looking ahead with baffled eyes. What's happening? they might have been asking. Who is going to take this away from us? What do we have to do?

In the wide spaces of the Links, however, it was possible, as Rusty had hoped, to get away from the crowds, once they'd left the main promenaders behind and moved towards the shrubs and trees, where there were seats and a few children playing ball.

‘Let's sit down,' Rusty said, pointing to a seat that was isolated in the distance. ‘Over there, where we can be on our own.'

‘What's all this worry about people?' Jess asked, sitting down on the rough bench that had been warmed by the sun.

‘I want to talk,' he said seriously. ‘And I want you to listen.'

‘Don't I always listen?'

He smiled briefly, as he sat near her on the bench and took her hand. ‘You know very well, I'm the one that listens.'

Shielding her eyes from the sunlight, she studied him, slightly raising her eyebrows. ‘I've never seen you like this before, Rusty. Is it because of what's happened?'

‘Partly. I expect we've all been changed by what we heard this morning.' He smoothed her fingers in his. ‘But I was going to talk to you, anyway.'

‘Talk, then,' she said lightly.

‘All right. I want to tell you that I'm going to join the air force.'

‘The air force?'

Unprepared, she felt an instant pain, as though winded by a blow. So this was the beginning, was it? The big shake-up of their lives? The kaleidoscope of war sending them on the move, never to be the same again?

‘Rusty, I . . . I don't know what to say.'

‘Try goodbye.' His grey eyes were steady on her face.

‘I don't want to . . . say goodbye.' It came to her as a continued shock that that was true. She couldn't imagine saying goodbye to Rusty. Why, he'd always been there, in her life, from the time they'd started work at the Princes together. How would she manage without him?

‘I'll miss you,' she said, bending her head. ‘We're such good friends.'

‘No,' Rusty said shortly. ‘No, we're not friends. At least, I'm not. I've never been just your friend, Jess. Don't pretend you thought that.'

‘I thought you were happy about it,' she whispered, after a pause. ‘Being my friend.'

‘Happy?' He laughed. ‘You've no idea, have you? What it's been like for me? I used to think I'd like to get out of lodgings – have my own place – a flat, or a bedsitter. But then I'd have had to invite you, and I knew I couldn't do it. Imagine having to sit around, watching you make tea, talking about being my friend – when all I wanted was to tell you I loved you.' He loosed her hand from his and turned away his face. ‘To ask you to marry me. And, all right – make love. Why not? I'm just a man, Jess, a human being, for God's sake. Not made of stone.'

For a long time, she was silent, her face bright red, her eyes cast down. Then she stretched out her hand and gently caressed his cheek as he sat like the stone he'd said he was not, until he very gradually relaxed and with a long shuddering sigh held her close.

‘Oh, Jess,' he said with a sigh, ‘Jess.'

‘Rusty, I'm sorry,' she murmured, her face against his. ‘You were wrong. I did know how you felt. But I just kept telling myself you were happy, because . . . well, I liked what we had. It was all right for me, I thought it was all right for you, but I was just selfish, eh? And never seeing straight.' As tears came to her eyes, she brushed them away. ‘Now, I'm being punished.'

‘Punished?'

‘I'm going to lose you. You're going away and we don't know what'll happen. And I feel so bad!'

‘There's no need to feel guilty, Jess. You never let me think I was the one for you.'

‘Maybe you should've been,' she said quietly.

For some time, he looked at her without speaking. Finally, in a low voice, he said, ‘There was Ben.'

‘Don't think about Ben. He never existed.'

‘Oh, yes, you said that before. I wasn't sure what you meant.'

‘I meant, he never existed for me, as a real person. What there was, I'd dreamed up.' She touched his hand. ‘Had to learn that the hard way.'

‘And you have learned it?'

‘Well, I've let him go.'

Rusty sat back, pushing his hair from his brow, his eyes on Jess never moving.

‘So, where does that leave me? Am I in your mind now?'

‘Of course you are, Rusty!'

He held her hands again. ‘What I mean is, have I any hope? Please don't look so far away. You know I love you, you know I can't just be friends any more.' He was beginning to crush her hands in his and his, she could feel, were trembling. ‘Jess, do you think you could ever marry me?'

As her eyes searched his face, the words sank in. Of course, he'd already told her that that was what he wanted all the time they'd been seeing each other, pretending to be friends. All he'd wanted, he'd said. To tell her he loved her, to make love to her, to ask her to marry him. All the time, that was what he'd been thinking. And now, she had to think of it, too.

Why not, then? Why not think of it? He had become very dear to her, very special. And he was no dream, no figure stepped down from the starlight. He loved her and his love was real. They could make a life together, if they were spared to do so, and it would be a good life. Her gaze on him grew tender, her lips parted, as he waited, scarcely breathing, until he cried –

‘Jess? Please say something!'

‘Rusty, I'm saying yes. Yes, I will marry you. Whenever you like.'

They moved into each other's arms, clinging and kissing, so dizzy with their own emotion that their surroundings seemed dizzy, too, spinning them into new worlds . . .

Until suddenly Rusty drew back, his face so set and pale, Jess cried out in alarm.

‘What is it? What is it?'

‘I can't let you do this, Jess. It wouldn't be fair. You're just being kind . . .'

‘I am not being kind!'

‘Because I'm going away. That's it, isn't it? You want to do something for me, because I'm joining up. I can't let you do it. Not something like this. It's too important. It affects our whole lives.'

‘Will you listen to me?' She shook him by the arms. ‘I'm marrying you because I want to marry you, and that's the only reason. It has nothing to do with your going away. Can't you see that?'

‘No.' He shook his head, his expression still sombre.

‘No, Jess, you need more time. You need time to be sure.'

For a long moment, she looked into his unhappy eyes.

‘Rusty, we have no time, have we? That's what the war's done. Taken away time. Please don't worry about me any more. I know what I'm doing.'

‘Oh, Jess.' He drew her into his arms again. ‘Didn't I once say I'd take whatever you were offering? I know I'm not really the one for you yet, but I might be, and if you really want to do this . . .'

‘I do.' She laughed. ‘There, don't I sound as if I'm being married already?

Then he laughed with her, and they kissed again with sweet, quieter kisses, until Rusty murmured against Jess's face, ‘Don't look now, but we have an audience.'

When she swung round, she saw three small children staring at them with large, interested eyes, and stretching out her hands, she whispered, ‘Oh, Rusty, have you any pennies to spare?'

Up came a young woman, however, who hurried the children away, at the same time casting back disapproving looks at the young people on the bench.

‘There's a time and place for everything!' she cried. ‘And it's no' always the Links!'

‘I wouldn't say that!' Rusty retorted, smiling, as he gave his hand to Jess, and rose with her from the bench.

‘Shall we go back?'

‘Yes, let's tell Ma.'

‘Let's,' he agreed, burying deep down any lingering doubts, while Jess, he guessed, was doing the same. ‘Let's tell your Ma.'

Twenty-Two

One by one, most of the staff of the Princes had drifted away, leaving George Hawthorne wild with worry until he found replacements. It wasn't just that Ben and Rusty had departed for the services – you had to expect young men to go to war – but the girls had gone as well, and that never used to happen in the old days.

As he complained to Jess – women at war! What a piece of nonsense!

‘Well, I suppose Sally and Marguerite have gone to war, but the others are making munitions.'