Monday Girl

by Doris Davidson

  It was a marvel to the girl that she could hear the tiny performers on the stage so clearly. She laughed uproariously at the comedians, applauded the singers, cheered the acrobats and magicians, and was enthralled by the trapeze artists.

  Going out wasn’t nearly so bad but she did have one moment of panic when they were going down the spiral staircase, because the people behind seemed to be pushing and jostling. Jack understood the fear in her eyes when she turned round. ‘It’s OK, Renee. Just keep holding on to the banisters and you’ll be fine.’

  When they reached the street, she let her breath out noisily, making the other two roar with laughter. ‘That’s the nearest you’ll ever get to heaven,’ joked Tim.

  The following Thursday they took her to His Majesty’s Theatre, another first for Renee, where a repertory company was presenting a musical comedy. Once again, they went to the balcony, and had to pass the main entrance, where the patrons were flocking in for the upper and dress circles, the orchestra stalls and the boxes.

  ‘I’d love to sit in a box, just once,’ she remarked after they were seated, and she’d had time to look around her. The occupants of the lower box at the opposite side appeared to be very wealthy, the men wearing evening suits and the ladies with fur coats draped over the backs of their seats.

  ‘Are they dear?’

  Winking to Jack, Tim said, ‘Aye, the boxes are pretty dear, and you’ve to be wearing a fur coat before you’re allowed in.’

  ‘Stop pulling her leg.’ Jack had seen the envy in her eyes, and felt sorry for her. ‘You don’t need a fur coat, Renee, but the seats are dear. If I ever win the pools, I’ll take you to a box in His Majesty’s, and that’s a promise.’ They all giggled, knowing that there was less than a million-to-one chance of such a thing ever happening.

  The velvet drapes opened and the orchestra in the pit began to play while Renee read all the advertisements on the safety curtain, until it rose slowly to reveal a drawing-room scene. She sat on the edge of her seat, engrossed in the tale being unfolded by the actors and actresses, and was completely transported to the opulent world of Noël Coward.

  The following morning, Renee was telling Sheila Daun about her theatre visit when Mr Murchie came out of his office, and they stopped speaking as he strode purposefully towards them.

  ‘I’ve just received a memo from head office, girls. They’ve cancelled the rule about RSA. certificates being compulsory, so you won’t need to enrol for evening classes this session. Apparently with the war on there may not be sufficient teachers in some parts of Britain to cover the syllabus for all the courses. You will be pleased to know, however, that the salary scale will remain as it is – increments each year until you reach the maximum.’

  Sheila was delighted. She had already passed the elementary and intermediate, but had been dreading the advanced. Renee felt only a great relief at not having to attend the grammar school during the coming winter. It would have been awful to come out and have no Fergus waiting for her. It was bad enough as it was, with not knowing what he was doing.

  Mr Murchie had walked away, so Sheila nudged her. ‘Go on telling me about the play, Renee. It sounded good.’

  ‘It was, oh, it really was, and it was so well acted that you forgot you were only in a theatre. You thought you were actually there, in that drawing room with them.’ She sighed.

  ‘I wish I could have been an actress. I loved being in school plays, and the teachers said I was a natural.’ Which probably explained her ability to tell lies so easily, she reflected sadly.

  On the Thursday before Mike’s wedding, they all went to the Palais. The prospective bride and groom looked so deliriously happy that Renee felt like crying. Babs had taken her sister along to meet Mike’s brother before they had to stand up as best man and bridesmaid in the church, and Renee noticed, later that evening, that Moira and Tim also had eyes only for each other. Love at first sight, obviously.

  Jack, who was dancing with her, heard her long drawn-out sigh, and followed her gaze. ‘It looks like you’ll have to put up with just me from now on, I’m afraid.’

  ‘There’s no need to sound so sorry about it, I don’t mind being with you.’ Her eyes were frank as they met his, because she could be alone with him if she wanted, now.

  ‘Great!’ He twirled her a complete circle, and partnered her for the rest of the evening.

  At the opening bars of the last waltz, Tim appeared beside them, with Moira held by the hand. ‘I’m seeing Moira home, Jack. You’ll manage to take Renee on your own, won’t you?’ Renee didn’t miss the wink he aimed at Jack, who replied, with mock-seriousness, ‘I think I might just manage that.’

  ‘We’re leaving now,’ Tim went on, ‘because Moira doesn’t want to be too late.’

  ‘Oh, aye?’ Jack’s eyes twinkled as the other couple walked away. ‘They don’t want to go home in a foursome with Mike and Babs, that’s what it is,’ he said, confidentially.

  ‘I don’t suppose Mike and Babs want them tagging along either.’ Renee felt quite at home as Jack’s arms went round her for the last dance. The lights dimmed slowly, and he hugged her tightly.

  ‘Are you disappointed about Tim?’

  ‘No. Why should I be disappointed?’

  ‘I thought you liked him better than me.’

  ‘You’re just fishing, Jack Thomson. I like Tim, but I like you just as much.’

  ‘But you still like Fergus best, is that it?’

  ‘Fergus is away now,’ she said carefully, wishing that he hadn’t reminded her.

  ‘Aye, but he’ll be back when he’s on leave, for he doesn’t speak to his folk – or they don’t speak to him – and your house is his only home now.’ Renee remembered then that Jack was unaware of the true reason for Fergus joining up, and of the fact that he had made it impossible for himself ever to come back to their house. She could see that Jack took her silence to mean that she did still love Fergus, but she couldn’t explain.

  ‘I’ve been thinking I’ll maybe join up as well,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘There’s nothing much for me in Aberdeen.’

  ‘Oh, no, Jack!’ She found that she did like him, very much, even if the feeling wasn’t quite deep enough to be called love, and she certainly hated the thought of him leaving.

  ‘Would you care if I went away?’ he asked softly, encouraged by her reaction.

  ‘Of course I’d care.’ He seemed pleased with that, and they ended the dance with a big whirl, then said their goodbyes to Mike and Babs.

  On the walk home, and in the middle of her telling him about a slight difference of opinion between Mr Murchie and Miss Esson, Jack said, out of the blue, ‘I care about you, Renee. Quite a lot.’ He kept on walking, his arm linked with hers, but his head still turned to the front.

  ‘Oh.’ It was all she could say, although she’d suspected it for some time, and they carried on in silence for a while.

  Then he stopped abruptly and kissed her, a kiss which she returned with a fervour that surprised her.

  It also surprised Jack. ‘I’ll keep on hoping you’ll learn to care for me properly, Renee,’ he said, but he dropped his arms and began walking again.

  She noticed that he had avoided mentioning love, and was very grateful to him. It would have been far too soon. Before they went into the house, he kissed her again. ‘If Tim’s to be going steady with Moira, will you still come out with me on Thursdays?’

  ‘I think I could just force myself,’ she teased, not to give him the opportunity of becoming serious.

  ‘That’s a step in the right direction, anyway.’ He took her hand and they went inside.

  ‘Mum! Why are you still up?’

  Anne was sitting in front of the almost black-out fire. ‘I couldn’t settle to go to bed. I wanted to know how you all got on, and what kind of girl Babs’s sister is.’ She shifted the cups on the card table,
showing how guilty she felt about being so inquisitive.

  Jack beamed. ‘We all got on fine, and Moira Sandison’s a very nice girl.’

  ‘She’s as blonde as Tim, and a wee bit smaller,’ Renee added.

  Anne looked expectantly at her daughter, but no more information seemed to be forthcoming. ‘Tim didn’t come home with you, I see?’

  Renee burst out laughing. ‘No, you were right. He fell for her, hook, line and sinker, and took her home before the dance was finished.’

  Anne looked satisfied. ‘I just thought that would happen,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Brothers often marry sisters, and romance must be in the air. The love bug’ll bite you two next, no doubt.’ She looked at them archly. Jack turned red, proving to her that she was on the right track, but Renee said, ‘Oh, Mum!’ in an annoyed voice, so Anne let the matter drop.

  Saturday was wet, but the Gordons went to John Knox Church at a quarter to two, to watch the bride and groom arriving with their attendants. Jack had felt obliged to go home to see his mother because she hadn’t been very well, and had expressed great disappointment at being unable to be with them.

  The heavy rain hadn’t dampened the high spirits of Babs and Mike, nor those of Moira and Tim, who were completely wrapped up in each other. The two spectators sheltered in a doorway until the bridal party re-emerged, then Anne showered the happy pair with confetti, while Renee went up to Tim and whispered, ‘Your turn next,’ before emptying her carton over him and the bridesmaid. Moira blushed, but Tim seemed rather put out.

  When a taxi took the wedding group away, Renee and her mother waved until they were out of sight, then turned to go home.

  ‘I don’t think it’ll be that long before Tim asks Moira to marry him,’ Anne remarked on the bus. ‘They looked head over heels in love.’

  ‘I believe they are, but Tim didn’t seem to like the idea when I told him that it would be their turn next. They made a nice couple, though.’

  ‘Jack and you made a nice couple when you came home on Thursday night,’ Anne said carefully, waiting for the flat denial she expected her daughter to make, or the flare-up which might be her answer.

  Renee, however, thought it best to let the remark pass without argument. ‘Jack’s a nice boy,’ was all she said.

  He was a nice boy – a very nice boy – and, given time, she might indeed come to feel more than liking for him now that Fergus was out of her life. Not a deep, devouring passion, perhaps, but a comfortable, loving relationship.

  When Renee’s thoughts turned to Fergus she pushed them resolutely from her mind. There was no point in dreaming of the unattainable, nor in dwelling on the past. That chapter of her life was over, and she was free to love anyone else if she felt like it. The trouble was that she didn’t feel free yet.

  It was only just over six weeks since Fergus went away. She’d gone out twice with Jack since Tim deserted them, and had skilfully diverted him any time he seemed to be getting serious. Her mother had made no more references to them as a couple, and Renee was quite content to let things jog along as they were. Tonight, Thursday again, Jack was taking her to the Palais, and she went home at teatime quite looking forward to being on the dance floor with him again.

  Her heart lurched almost out of control when she saw the tall dark-haired figure in khaki talking to Jack and Tim in the dining room. ‘F . . . F . . . Fergus!’ she stammered.

  ‘In the flesh,’ he laughed. ‘You won’t forget to close your mouth, will you? You look like a fish gasping for water.’

  She was so glad to see him that she didn’t feel a bit annoyed at him for making fun of her, but just then, Anne carried in a large ashet. ‘He’s looking well, isn’t he, Renee?’

  He was looking divine, the girl thought, her legs trembling. ‘What . . . ? How . . . ?’

  Fergus grinned. ‘I wrote asking your mother if I could come here when my square-bashing was finished – I’ve nowhere else to go – and she wrote back saying it was OK.’ Annoyance, and anger, flooded up inside Renee now. Her mother hadn’t said anything about it. How could she have been so underhand? And why had he never written to her, when he’d sworn, on his last night in Aberdeen, that he loved her and not her mother? He could have sent it to the office after all. The bile rising in her throat threatened to choke her, and she had to swallow repeatedly before she could speak. ‘That’s good,’ she muttered at last.

  Jack was studying her with an expression of resignation, and it crossed her mind that here was a way to pay Fergus back. Smiling sweetly at Jack, she said, ‘It’s still all right for our date tonight, isn’t it, Jack? I’m really looking forward to going to the Palais again.’ She was inwardly ashamed at using Jack for her own ends, but the wry smile which crossed briefly over his face told her that he understood why she was doing it.

  ‘Oh, aye, it’s still on.’ He turned to Fergus. ‘Renee and me are going to be tripping the light fantastic the night,’ he said brightly, then he glanced at Tim. ‘Are you and Moira coming as well?’

  Before Tim had a chance to reply, Fergus pounced on the unfamiliar name. ‘Moira? Who’s Moira? A girlfriend at last, eh, Tim?’

  ‘Aye, we’re going steady. She was the bridesmaid at Mike’s wedding – Babs’s sister – and I was the best man. We kind of hit it off the first time we met.’

  ‘So-o-o.’ The word was drawn out, and the sarcasm was aimed at Renee. ‘There’s a lot of new romances starting up, I can see.’ The contempt in his eyes matched his sneering voice.

  ‘Why shouldn’t there be?’ Renee was defiant, in spite of the sickness still deep down inside her. Was he trying to tell her that he’d be glad to get her out of his life? Was he pleased he’d got rid of one complication? By writing to her mother and not to her, had he been trying to prove his love to Anne? And how many times had he written? Renee forced herself to eat what was set in front of her, but her heart was as heavy as lead, and everything was tasteless.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand with the dishes, Anne.’ Fergus stood up when they were all finished eating, his use of the Christian name tormenting the girl even more. ‘So off you go, Renee, and make yourself look pretty for Jack.’

  She would willingly have killed him, then, for being so hateful, and for openly saying ‘Anne’ again. He was just an unfeeling brute, and she shouldn’t let his behaviour hurt her. She went to wash and dress, still seething at his treatment of her, and took extra care with her hair and her make-up simply to spite him.

  Before she went downstairs again, she checked her appearance in the mirror, because she wanted to look her very best, to make Fergus jealous. The new, pale blue dress which she’d saved up for, and had bought last week, was quite stunning, she thought, and the small puff sleeves were sitting just right. The deep-blue embroidery on the bodice matched her eyes, and she felt she couldn’t look any more attractive.

  A very smart Jack was waiting for her, although his sandy hair, which he had plastered down with water, was already sticking up in what Anne called his ‘cow’s lick’. ‘You’re looking very sweet,’ he said, smiling at her reassuringly.

  ‘Love’s young dream,’ sneered Fergus, exactly as he had said when he’d seen her kissing Tim months before.

  Stung into retaliation, Renee said sharply, ‘At least it’s all above-board,’ not caring that her mother, and Jack, would also know what she meant.

  She had time to gather her shattered nerve ends together on the bus, because Jack seemed to understand that she wasn’t ready to talk yet, but before they went into the dance hall, he took her hand and said, ‘He’s not worth all your heartache, Renee. A two-timer like him? He’s not fit to wash your feet. Enjoy yourself, lass, you’re only young once.’

  She knew that he was speaking the truth, and she was still furious at Fergus. All right. Let her mother have him! She, Renee, was going to have a good time tonight, even if it killed her. She held her head high as they went
through the door. Jack, also determined to let her have no time to feel bitter or let-down, was very attentive, and kept her laughing with his silly jokes. Gallant was the only word to describe him, she thought, and felt her spirits lifting, so much that she welcomed Tim and Moira warmly when they appeared some fifteen minutes later.

  ‘Ooh, Renee, I like your dress,’ the other girl said. ‘I’ve to keep on wearing this old pink one. I’ve had it for ages, but I can’t afford a new one yet.’

  ‘That one suits you, Moira, with your blond hair, and I’d to save for months and months to buy this. I got it in a sale at the Mascot, or else I wouldn’t have had one at all. The lemon dress was an old one of my mother’s, though I altered it a bit.’ The two young men were looking at each other in amusement, but now Tim said, in a falsetto voice, ‘D’you like my suit, Jack? It’s a 1937 model, but it’s the latest style.’ Jack smiled gravely. ‘And the black buttons just match your fingernails.’

  ‘Oh, you two!’ Renee spluttered. ‘They’re always the same,’ she informed Moira.

  When Tim took Renee up to a slow foxtrot, he said quietly,

  ‘Now, I’m not interfering . . .’ which made her heart sink again, because she suspected that he was about to deliver a lecture. ‘It’s just . . . Jack thinks an awful lot of you, Renee, so don’t lead him on if you’re set on Fergus. That’s all.’ He looked at her with his mouth screwed up, then added, ‘Uncle Tim’s advice for the day, free, gratis and for nothing.’

  She gave a tight smile, and they danced in silence, apart from Tim’s unmelodious humming of the tune, until they joined the other two, who had also been dancing together. During the next dance, Jack said, ‘You’ve gone all quiet again. Did Tim say anything to upset you?’