The sea, to their right, foamed white and angry amongst the huge rocks in the bay, and the wind whipped their faces with a force built up during its uninterrupted passage from the north.
Renee shivered in her lightweight coat, so Fergus drew her closer against him. ‘I can see I’m going to have to heat you up, my little Monday girl,’ he murmured, then stopped to kiss her before they rounded the bend to Girdleness Lighthouse, where he led her off the road, towards its high surrounding wall. ‘If we stay at this side, we’ll be away from the wind,’ he told her, ‘and it won’t be so wet, being sheltered. I’ve been thinking about this since Thursday.’
So had Renee, and she waited, trembling with expectancy as much as the cold, while he spread his coat on the still damp grass, then flopped down and held his hand out to her. She lay down beside him, to be transported away from their wild surroundings by his searching and equally wild love-making. After it was over, they lay for a few minutes, then Fergus stood up. ‘It’s getting too cold now. Come on, my darling, my first day of the week, first before anyone else, Monday girl. We’ll walk right round and into town, then it’ll be time for you to go home. The pictures would be coming out about half past ten, so you should be home about the right time if we put a step in.’
The girl would have been quite happy to stay there and let him make love to her over and over again. She felt that she could never have too much of it. She was the luckiest girl in the world to have such a lover. Who else but Fergus would ever have thought of making love in the shadow of a lighthouse?
‘Come on, Renee,’ he said. ‘If we don’t get moving, you’ll be late, and your mother won’t let you out again.’
That was true, she realised, so, not wishing to jeopardise her future opportunities of being with him like this, she jumped up, and they carried on walking along the barren road. When they reached Market Street, Fergus stopped.
‘One of my pals lives over there, Renee. You’ll manage to get the bus OK if I drop in on him for a while, won’t you? I can’t take you right home, anyway.’
She was disappointed that he wasn’t going to see her on the bus, or even just to the bus stop, but tried not to let it show. ‘I’ll manage,’ she said, forlornly, and watched him as he walked across the street and disappeared inside the doorway of a high tenement.
Before she turned to carry on up the hill, a familiar voice spoke softly behind her. ‘So it was Fergus, after all.’ Whipping round, Renee saw that she’d been standing in front of the Club Bar, and Jack Thomson must have seen and heard them.
‘I thought it might be,’ he added, wryly, ‘but I thought you’d have more sense than to be taken in by him.’
‘You’ve been spying on me!’ She felt very indignant. ‘Why can’t you leave me alone, Jack Thomson? It’s nothing to do with you if I want to go out with Fergus or anybody else.’
‘I wish it was. And I wasn’t spying on you. I came out with Alfie, that’s him up there, and I saw Fergus leaving you, so I thought I’d better take you home.’ She tried to shake off his hand, but he gripped her elbow firmly as he took her up on to Union Street. ‘It’s not a very great place for a young lassie to be walking about on her own at this time of night,’ he added.
She sat in the bus, silent and resentful, and when Jack glanced at her, she became conscious of her creased skirt and untidy hair. He would know what she’d been doing with Fergus. What could he be thinking of her?
He spoke then, apologetically. ‘Look, Renee. I know it’s none of my business, as you told me yourself, but you’re a young, decent girl, and I don’t like to see him making a fool of you.’
‘Fergus isn’t making a fool of me!’ She was angry now. Jack carried on with his lecture. ‘You’ve never come up against anybody like him before, and no more had I till I came to the town to work, but I’m telling you, he’s bad, through and through. He’s only playing with you, like a fisherman plays with a fish, and once he’s caught you, he’ll throw you back and start trying to catch some other young, innocent lassie to do the same to her.’
Renee’s temper had been rising all the time he was speaking, and she burst out now, her eyes blazing, although she tried to keep her voice low to prevent the other passengers hearing, ‘You’re just jealous because he’s had a lot of girlfriends and you haven’t any, but he’s only serious about me, not any of the rest of them. He told me that himself.’
‘He’s a liar, and you shouldn’t believe him.’
‘I know he’s telling me the truth, and he’s only going out with them till my mother agrees to him going with me. When I’m sixteen, it’ll all be out in the open, and you’ll all see it’s me he really loves. He won’t need any other girls once I’m old enough.’
Jack shook his head. ‘Oh, Renee, Renee. That’s the trouble. You’re not old enough to understand what he’s at. You said I was jealous. Well, I am jealous, and angry, but it wouldn’t be so bad if it was a decent bloke you were going out with – somebody that would respect you and treat you right – but Fergus . . . ! That’s it. I’m saying no more. I’ve warned you, and that’s all I can do.’ He ran his fingers through the front of his hair, making his quiff stick up jauntily. ‘I’m only trying to save you from getting hurt, for you will be hurt if you carry on with him.’
The silence which fell between them then lasted until they went into the house, but, when she switched on the hall light to hang up her coat, he whispered, ‘There’s grass in your hair.’
She went into the bathroom, without any word of thanks for the warning, and combed out the offending green blades, then poked her head round the living-room door.
‘I’m going to bed, Mum. I don’t want anything to eat.’ She went upstairs, sure that Jack would keep her secret, but her confidence in her lover was wavering. Jack had seemed so sure of what he was saying, yet she didn’t want to believe him. She undressed slowly, her thoughts in a feverish turmoil. Fergus wasn’t a liar. If he said that she was the one he loved, it must be true. He was only going out with the other girls for company. Jack was making it all up, out of jealousy. But a niggling doubt had arisen in her mind. He’d said that once Fergus caught her, he would drop her and start with some other innocent girl. Was that why he had been so anxious to be her very first? Was that what he did? Did he try to be the very first for every girl he went out with? No! No! That was a horrible thing to be thinking.
By the time Anne came to bed, Renee was reassuring herself by recalling all the declarations of love which Fergus had made to her. Once a week for months he had said that she was the only one for him, that she was the first, most important one. He couldn’t have been lying all that time . . . could he?
Her doubts vanished next morning as soon as Fergus Cooper looked at her. His love for her seemed to shine out of his dark eyes, and Renee was sure that the others must see it, but she wanted to prove to Jack that he hadn’t succeeded in making her stop her relationship with Fergus.
‘Phyllis was really pleased that I’ll be going out with her every Monday, Mum,’ she said, clearly, for the benefit of both Jack and Fergus. ‘You see, her other chum doesn’t like the same kind of pictures as she does, but I do.’
‘That’s nice.’ Anne was smiling. ‘It’ll do you good to enjoy yourself for a change, after going to the classes twice a week all the winter.’
Renee noticed that Fergus had looked down at his plate, and that Jack was regarding her with a touch of contempt, but fortunately Tim created a diversion.
‘Your classes have definitely stopped, have they, Renee?’
‘Yes, till the beginning of October.’ She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Why were you asking?’
A broad grin came over Tim’s face. ‘Well, you see, Mike’s met this girl, and he wants . . .’
‘A girlfriend? Oh, Mike, that’s great.’ Renee turned to smile at the shy, red-faced young man. ‘Have you asked her out?’
‘Eh . . .
aye.’ Mike fiddled with his knife.
‘That’s the trouble,’ Tim chuckled. ‘He’s not a lady’s man like Fergus there, so he’s asked her to the Palais in a foursome, with me and . . . you, Renee, if you’ll come?’
‘Oh.’ Renee felt most embarrassed. This was a complication she hadn’t foreseen, and she couldn’t think how to extricate herself. ‘But I can’t . . .’
‘Yes, you can.’ Anne leaned forward eagerly. ‘It’s time you started mixing socially with boys, and you know Tim well enough by this time, surely?’
Renee was desperate. ‘It’s not that, Mum. It’s . . . oh, Tim, I don’t think . . .’
‘I’m not going to eat you,’ Tim said quickly. ‘It’s for Mike’s sake I’m asking, so he can build up his confidence.’
‘You’ll have to go with them, Renee, or else you’ll spoil things for Mike.’ Anne frowned at her daughter then turned to Tim. ‘When’s this double date coming off?’
It crossed Renee’s mind, then, that if her mother was encouraging her to go out with Tim, she could hardly object to her going out with Fergus, so this might be a good move.
‘Next Monday,’ Tim was saying. ‘If that’s all right with you, Renee?’ He looked at her appealingly. ‘I know you said you’d arranged to meet your chum, but you could phone her at her work and explain, couldn’t you?’
Fergus stood up. ‘Yes, Renee, you should go with them. You’ve got to start going out with boys sometime.’
Anne smiled to him. ‘She’ll maybe listen to you, Fergus.’ Renee was deeply hurt until she realised that he might have been thinking along the same lines as herself, that there would be no problem about him asking her out after this.
‘OK. I’ll phone Phyllis and cancel next Monday.’
Tim rubbed his hands together in glee. ‘That’s all settled, then. Mike, you’re on your way with . . . what was her name?’
‘Babs Sandison,’ his brother mumbled, his face even redder than before. ‘Thanks, Renee. Once I get this first date past, I won’t feel so tongue-tied. It’s just . . . oh, I’m sorry for being such a big sheep.’
Everyone laughed, good-natured Mike as loudly as any of them, then Anne pushed her chair back. ‘Once Renee gets her first date past, maybe she’ll think about getting a steady boyfriend.’ She winked to Tim to let him know that she would be quite happy if he was the one, then piled the cups, saucers and plates on the tray.
Renee picked up the sugar bowl and the milk jug and followed her mother through to the scullery. ‘I thought you’d say I was too young to be going out with boys.’ She wanted to hear Anne commit herself irrevocably, and she was pleased when Jack Thomson carried in the teapot. He could be her witness.
Anne laughed. ‘You’ll soon be sixteen, and as long as you don’t start getting serious about anybody, I’m all for it.’
She went back to the dining room, leaving Renee almost jumping with joy. It was going to be all right. She’d be able to date Fergus openly very soon. She gradually became conscious that Jack was still standing beside her. He deposited the teapot on the draining board and turned to her.
‘I’m glad you’ve agreed to go out with Tim, and remember, I’ll be available if you want another date.’ He walked away, whistling merrily.
Renee wished with all her heart that it had been Fergus who had come through to ask her out. Her mother would have to agree now. But that was still to come. It would come!
Chapter Six
Several times during the week, Renee had doubts about accepting Tim’s invitation. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him – nobody could help liking him – but he was a bit too young. He was still only eighteen, a boy, really, and she preferred men at least six years older than she was. And what if he took it for granted that she’d want to make the outing a regular thing? She couldn’t tell him she loved Fergus, not yet, so it would be difficult to turn Tim down without offending him. She was piqued that Fergus had shown no signs of jealousy, although it would have been difficult for him in front of her mother, but he could surely have given her just one little hint of it.
On Friday evening, when Peter and Maggie McIntosh paid their weekly visit and asked how things were, Anne smiled. ‘Everything’s just fine here. Mike’s found himself a girl, and Renee’s going out with Tim on Monday night.’
The girl butted in quickly, to save any misunderstanding. ‘It’s only a foursome with Mike and his girlfriend, Granny.’
Maggie’s face creased into a smile. ‘It’s a start, ony road, an’ I’m real pleased to hear it. Ye could dae a lot worse for yersel’ than Tim Donaldson.’
At that moment, Fergus poked his head round the door, and beamed at the visitors. ‘I’m off, folks.’
Maggie frowned. ‘Like him, for instance.’
‘I don’t know what you’ve got against Fergus, Mother.’ Anne looked displeased. ‘He’s really very nice.’
The older woman said no more about him, but when Renee walked a little bit with them on their way home, Maggie said, ‘You stick to Tim, lassie, or Jack, but ha’e nothin’ to dae wi’ that Fergus. I can see through him if yer mother canna.’
Her granddaughter’s laugh was somewhat forced. ‘Oh, you. You’ve got some stupid ideas, Granny, and I’m not intending to stick to Tim. I’m only going out with him as an obligement to Mike. He was too shy to go on his own, that’s why we’re going in a foursome.’
Peter stopped his wife from upsetting the girl further by remarking, ‘It looks like rain, Maggie. We’d best get hame.’ On Monday morning, the girl was still debating whether she’d made the right decision, but the more she considered it – going dancing was one of her old dreams coming true –
the more she found herself looking forward to it.
Her excitement mounted all through their evening meal, in spite of her earlier misgivings. She had never possessed a dance frock, but her mother had unearthed one of her old ones – so old that it was almost back in fashion – which Renee had altered until it fit her perfectly. She could hardly wait to put it on, and rushed to get ready as soon as she could. When she came out of the bathroom, Fergus was waiting and handed her a slip of paper before he went in to wash, so she unfolded it as soon as she went upstairs. He’d written only five words: ‘Remember you’re my Monday girl.’ She stuffed the note into her handbag, to be read again later before she destroyed it. It was too dangerous to keep these little billets-doux, in case her mother found them, and, in any case, she needed no reminding.
She slipped the lemon taffeta dress over her head and fastened the three tiny pearl buttons at the back of the neck, then stepped up to the old wardrobe to look at herself in the full-length mirror. The silvering had worn off in places, but, even in the far-from-ideal reflection, the effect was satisfactory.
The loose, cape-like sleeves, which she’d fashioned out of the original, tight long ones, came to just below her shoulders, and showed her arms to their best advantage. The bodice was pin-tucked with an edging of lace round the neck, and the waist fit snugly, giving her a smooth, slenderly curved neatness before the gores of the skirt opened out over her hips. It was unbelievable the difference it made to her appearance.
She pirouetted daintily and the fullness swirled around her legs, rustling against the fully fashioned silk stockings her mother had lent her. No one could ever guess that this lovely creation was a make-down, it was so beautiful, and there wouldn’t be another one like it.
She brushed her fair hair until it shone, then applied some make-up. The tango shade of the lipstick, the only one she possessed, went well with the deep lemon of the dress – oranges and lemons, came the childish thought – and she felt on top of the world as she went down the stairs.
Mike and Tim, in navy pinstripe suits, were waiting for her, and Tim said, ‘What a transformation. You look like a fairy doll. I’ll be scared to touch you in case you break.’
She flash
ed a smile at him, delighted with his admiration, and slipped into the coat he held up for her. Then he took her hand and they followed Mike out. Renee hoped that Fergus was watching from the window. It might make him jealous enough to ask her out in front of everyone in future.
The Palais de Danse impressed her – the lights, the glittering decor, the whole heady atmosphere. The four-piece band was playing a quickstep when the two girls came out of the cloakroom, and Mike danced off with Babs Sandison, but Renee looked apprehensively at Tim.
‘I can’t dance, you know,’ she said sorrowfully. ‘This is the first time I’ve ever been.’
He smiled reassuringly. ‘I know that, but it’s really easy and you’ll soon pick it up. The quickstep’s just slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, and the slow foxtrot’s the same, only slower.’ He laughed as he put his arm round her in a firm hold and swung her out on to the dance floor.
Under Tim’s expert guidance, she was soon following his steps without having to think about it, and she thrilled at the marvellous sensation of moving in perfect unison with him. When he saw that she was relaxed and coping well, he loosened his grip on her.
‘Jack tells me you’ve been meeting Fergus on the q.t.’
‘He’d no right telling anybody,’ Renee snapped, hoping that Tim wasn’t going to spoil her evening by warning her off Fergus, too, like Jack and Granny.
‘It’s up to you, Renee, but Jack’s really worried about you, and I don’t like the idea much myself. He’s a proper lady-killer, Fergus, and not all that fussy how he treats them, either.’
‘I’d rather not discuss it, Tim, if you don’t mind.’ Her voice was cold.
‘OK.’ Nuff said. What d’you think of the Palais?’
‘It’s super! A great band. Do you come here often?’ Tim burst out laughing and had to explain to her, ‘It’s usually the boy who says that, when he’s dancing with a girl he’s just met, but don’t worry about it. Aye, Mike and me have been coming here nearly every week for a few months now.’ During the break, the foursome sat together and had iced drinks to cool them down after their exertions.
Monday Girl Page 8