Starlight (28 page)

‘You know that isn't true,' she said softly. ‘Don't you? You know it isn't true, that you can walk away from drink?'

He sat without moving or speaking, his eyes fixed on the packet of cigarettes he had earlier taken from his pocket. But as he made to light one, Jess stayed his hand.

‘Don't, Rusty, don't smoke just now. Think about what I'm saying. Admit what I say is right. You can't give up drinking.'

‘Look, Jess, I don't know – I don't know what's right and what isn't . . .'

‘You do, Rusty, you do! You know you can't give up drinking on your own, you know you need help.' She went to him and put her arms around him. ‘Take the first step,' she whispered. ‘And I'll take it with you. We'll get through this together, if you'll just face the truth.'

‘I'm not sure I can,' he said quietly. ‘Is that what you want me to say?'

‘I want you to say you need help and you're willing to try to get it. That's all. That's the first step.' She leaned her face against his, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I know it's not going to be easy, Rusty. I know what it'll be like for you. But it could help, you see, it could be worth it.'

For a long time, they sat together, their faces close, their hands clasped, until at last, Rusty said in a low voice, ‘Jess, I'll do it. I'll try this group. See what they can do.'

‘It's all I ask, Rusty. It's all anyone could ask.'

Because it was a lot to ask, wasn't it? Later, when they had slowly prepared for bed, and then lay sleepless, the question hammered in Jess's brain – was it too much?

Seemingly, it was, for when Rusty some days later swallowed his pride and went to his first meeting of ‘Dependency Helpline', he did not stay. In fact, he came home so early, Jess, who had seen him to the hall but had not been allowed to wait, needed no telling what had happened.

‘What went wrong?' she asked quietly. ‘I know something did.'

‘Jess, I couldn't stand it. The minute I went in, I felt wrong, as though I shouldn't be there.' Rusty sank on to a chair at the kitchen table. ‘I looked around at the people, and they were standing up and giving their names and talking about their drinking, and I thought, ‘My God, what am I doing here?' They said I was very welcome and I'd be given some sort of mentor who'd help me through, and the first time would be the worst, but I knew all along it was a waste of time. I wouldn't be staying. I wouldn't be standing up, giving my name.'

His eyes met Jess's, then immediately fell.

‘I'm sorry,' he muttered. ‘Honestly, I am. I'd have liked it to work.'

‘You didn't give it time to work,' she said after a pause.

‘No, because I knew it wouldn't. I knew the set-up wasn't for me.' He stood up, running his hand through his hair, and glanced at the kitchen clock. ‘Think I'll go out for a bit.'

‘You've had something to eat?'

‘I'm not hungry.' He moved to the door.

‘Better take your coat, it's colder tonight.'

‘Colder weather on the way, maybe?'

He took his coat from the peg in the hallway, and pulled on a tweed cap.

‘I'm sorry,' he said again. ‘But I did try, didn't I? Thing is, Jess, it'd be no good asking me to try again. I couldn't do it.'

‘Don't worry, I won't ask you.'

When he'd gone, she sat down and picked up the evening paper and read each page carefully. No tears blurred her vision, which was good. But then she'd already decided that there would be no more tears. What else there might be in the future, she'd no idea.

As she rose and began to prepare her solitary supper, she knew she'd just have to take each day as it came. Never worked out, did it, to try to make plans?

Fifty-Two

‘What you need is cheering up,' Sally told Jess in her office one January day. ‘Now we're living in the Ice Age, who doesn't? But I think we should give ourselves a nice day out.' She looked hopefully at Jess's face. ‘What do you say?'

Jess thought about it.

‘Living in the Ice Age' just about summed up their situation in January 1947, as the whole country bowed in submission to the worst winter since the nineteenth century. Blizzards, snowdrifts, frost that never thawed, iced-up cars, burst pipes – even elderly people could not remember anything quite so severe. To make matters worse, increased demands and difficulties in transportation had brought about a fuel crisis, which was now threatening power cuts. Faced with the worry of perhaps having to close the cinema, how could Jess expect take a day off?

‘Sorry, Sally,' she said at last. ‘The way things are, I don't think I'd dare to be away for a whole day.'

‘Oh, come on!' Sally flung back her hair, which was now no longer blonde but bright red, and waved a warning finger at Jess. ‘That's just a piece of nonsense! When did you last take any time off?'

‘I'd like to have a day out, but if we do get these power cuts, you know I'd be needed here.'

‘There'll be warnings, they say. Times when to expect them. Anyway, they've no' happened yet. Let's just hop on the train to Glasgow and have a look at the sales, eh?'

‘Glasgow?' Jess shook her head. ‘I don't think so, Sally.'

‘Look, we could plan to go and then if there were any possibilities about power cuts, we'd just stay grounded. I mean, it's no' that far to Glasgow, is it?'

‘I suppose we could see if they've anything different in their sales. There's nothing much here.'

‘Too right. Nothing but that utility stuff. So, we could look round, have a bit of lunch and get the early train back. My mother can pick up Magnus from school for me, but I'd no' want to be too late home.'

‘What day would you suggest we go?'

‘Well, you know I don't come in on a Tuesday. So that'd be the best day for me.'

Conscious of Sally's bright eyes on her, Jess hesitated.

‘I suppose I could ask Ben to keep an eye on things. And maybe phone in when we get there.'

‘Perfect! Shall we say next Tuesday, if you've got nothing in your diary? It will do you good, Jess, I promise you, and you really should look after yourself a bit better, you know. You've been looking so pale lately.'

‘Thanks so much for that.' Jess attempted a smile. ‘You haven't changed, have you, since George used to call you a fusspot?'

‘And you know what happened to him,' Sally said darkly. ‘Do you think Tuesday will be free?'

‘I'm sure it is.'

‘That's settled, then. Oh, my, I'm really looking forward to a get-together with you, Jess. For a nice long chat, eh?'

Depends on the chat, thought Jess.

The following Tuesday lunchtime, wrapped up in winter coats, hats, scarves, mittens and boots, they made their way to the station, avoiding the unchanging banks of snow at the roadside, gazing up at the great, gaunt city buildings outlined in white.

‘Pretty, eh?' Sally asked Jess, as their breath blew in clouds. ‘If you hadn't already seen it all for weeks on end.'

‘Christmas cards will never be the same again,' Jess said with a smile. ‘What would it be like to go abroad for some sun?'

‘Can't even imagine it. Here's the station. Careful on the incline, Jess.'

‘I'm already walking as though I'm ninety years old,' Jess said cheerfully, realizing that she was beginning to look forward to this snatched day out, was in fact already feeling a guilty pleasure, as though she were playing truant from school.

‘Well, you don't look ninety, dear. Your cheeks are quite rosy!'

‘That's just with the cold.'

‘No, it's because you're escaping,' Sally said shrewdly. ‘When you've finished looking round all the new clothes in Glasgow, you'll be looking quite your old self.'

‘I don't even know if I've any clothing coupons left. Haven't thought about clothes for ages.'

‘So, you'll have some coupons left. Anyway, we needn't buy anything – can just window-shop if we feel like it.'

As the Glasgow train wasn't in yet, they huddled on to a bench in the waiting room, which was no warmer than the platform but which at least they had to themselves.

‘Remember when they used to light fires in the waiting room?' asked Jess. ‘Now even the station's got no coal.'

She sat back on the hard wooden bench, pulling up her coat collar and rubbing her arms with her mittened hands, her cheeks still rosy and her face looking prettier, Sally thought, than it had seemed for some time.

‘Oh, it's good to see you relaxing, Jess,' she said earnestly. ‘You're having a rough time, we all know, but if it's any help, we do understand what you're going through.'

The silence in the waiting room after she'd spoken was as icy as the atmosphere.

‘Going through, Sally?' Jess echoed at last. ‘Why, what am I supposed to be going through?'

Sally shook her head. ‘Look, there's just the two of us. No need to pretend. Might do you good, in fact, to talk about it.'

‘Talk about what?'

Sally clicked her tongue. ‘Your Rusty, of course.'

‘Sally, I am not going to talk about Rusty. Is that why you asked me to come out with you?' Jess's rosy colour was now deepening. ‘To talk about him?'

‘Oh, Jess, you know nothing was further from my mind! We've been friends for so long, how could you think that? I only wanted to cheer you up, that's all. I never even intended to mention Rusty and I'm sorry now I did.'

Jess lowered her eyes. ‘I'm sorry, too, then. It was silly of me to say anything. I suppose I'm just . . . over-sensitive at the moment.'

‘And who'd blame you? Look, let's say no more, eh? Least said, soonest mended.'

‘No, I'd like to know what you mean. When you said everyone understood – what I was going through.'

Sally looked down at her handbag and fiddled with its clasp. ‘It's his drinking.'

Jess caught her breath. ‘His drinking? You're saying . . . everyone knows?'

‘Well, dear, it's very difficult to keep secrets in a place like the Princes. We do kind of live in each other's pockets, eh? And Rusty's no' been himself for some time.'

‘And nobody's said anything?'

‘Well, they wouldn't. But they see the poor lad at lunchtimes, and sometimes in the evenings, you know. Fred told me he'd seen him in the projection box when everybody's gone home, just sitting . . .'

‘Oh, God – drinking alone?'

Sally nodded. ‘But everybody knows what he went through in the war. They know how hard it is to adjust.'

‘I'd no idea anyone knew,' Jess said unhappily. ‘No idea at all.'

‘Nobody's thinking badly of him, Jess. They'd like to help, only there's nothing they can do. But some of us were wondering if he'd seen a doctor at all? Might be a good idea.'

‘Flatly refused. Also walked out of the help group he was going to try.' Jess stood up, shivering. ‘In fact, just at the minute, Sally, I can't think of what to do next. But I think that might be our train I can hear – we'd better check.'

‘Poor lassie,' Sally murmured, as they hurried out of the waiting room door. ‘But things will look up, Jess, they always do. The tide'll turn, you'll see.'

‘It is our train,' Jess murmured, determined now to think of something other than her troubles on this day of escape. ‘Let's see if we can find a seat.'

‘Are you joking?' Sally was turning on a smile. ‘War might be over, but it's still standing room only on the trains.'

Surprisingly, though, they did find seats and by the time they arrived at Glasgow Queen Street, were feeling more cheerful and ready to enjoy their little break.

‘First stop, coffee,' Sally announced, as they joined the throng moving out from the platform to the main station concourse. Then both she and Jess stopped, as though pulled to a halt by some giant puppet-master's string. For some little way ahead of them was a familiar, graceful figure, now swaying towards a tall man in a dark overcoat who was taking off his hat and calling a name.

‘Marguerite! Marguerite! Over here!'

And Marguerite went into his arms.

Fifty-Three

‘That was Marguerite,' Jess said dazedly. ‘She must have been on our train, and we never knew.'

‘Aye, because we were in the waiting room, never saw the folk on the platform.' Sally's face was alight with excitement, as she caught at Jess's arm. ‘Come on, let's see where she goes with that fellow, then.'

‘No, no.' Jess was holding back. ‘I don't want to, I don't want to spy.'

‘Think they're going for a taxi, anyway.' Standing tall, Sally was trying to see over the heads of the passengers leaving the station. ‘Who can he be, Jess? Ex-RAF, I can tell you that, and an officer. Did you see his handlebar moustache? I can spot those chaps a mile away, though I was army, of course.'

‘I don't care who he is,' Jess said wildly. ‘I just feel too upset. I mean, what about Ben?'

‘What we need is our coffee. Let's get out of here and find somewhere to recover.'

‘Recover? I don't think I'm going to recover in a hurry, Sally. After what we've just seen.'

In a small cafe off George Square, they discovered they could get toasted teacakes with butter, and decided to make them an early snack lunch.

‘Before we hit the sales,' Sally said cheerfully, but Jess was in no mood to be cheered.

‘I don't know that I feel like shopping now,' she said quietly. ‘It's really shaken me, seeing Marguerite meeting another man like that.'

‘I know, dear, and I'm no' being unfeeling. It's just that I don't want your day spoiled, just when I finally got you to agree to leave work for once.' Sally looked down at the butter deliciously melting on her teacake and finally took a bite, dabbing at her lips with a paper napkin. ‘There's nothing we can do, after all. I mean, it's Marguerite's problem, and Ben's – even if he doesn't know it yet.'