Monday Girl

by Doris Davidson

‘Are you still in the Shetlands, Tim?’ Anne rescued him because she could sympathise with his feelings, for wasn’t she doing the same thing with Fred? The atmosphere cleared and the talk gradually divided into two different conversations, Glynn and Tim discussing the war, and Anne and the two girls speaking about the progress Mike’s baby son was making.

  After the young couple left, Glynn said, ‘Tim’s a good, honourable person, and I’m sorry I made things uncomfortable for him.’

  ‘You weren’t to know,’ Renee said hastily. ‘He says he doesn’t want to tie Moira down, but he’s being cruel, really. Like somebody else I know,’ she added, bitterly, glancing at her mother.

  Renee was quite upset when Glynn told her that he hadn’t applied to have his leave changed. ‘I thought I should go to Porthcross, so I could tell Mam about you and the wedding,’ he defended himself. ‘It’s going to take a lot of diplomacy.’

  ‘Haven’t you written and told her?’ She sounded shocked.

  ‘I’ve told her I’ve been visiting your house with Fred, and about your mother and you, but not that . . .’

  ‘I suppose you made out that my mother was a do-gooder, feeding lonely soldiers and making a home-from-home for them?’ Her eyes were glittering like steel, now.

  Glynn had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I suppose I did. But, darling, I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure that you wanted to marry me.’ He paused for a moment, then obviously decided to tell her everything. ‘You see, she’s still annoyed at me for not asking Eiddwen to marry me at the start of the war. Mam loved her like a daughter, and she says it’s my own fault that Eiddwen fell in love with that Australian.’

  ‘But your mother’ll surely be pleased that you’ve found happiness now?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘If it was with a Welsh girl, yes, but she hates the English . . .’

  ‘I’m not English,’ Renee interrupted. ‘I’m Scottish, there is a difference.’

  ‘Not to my mam. Anyone who’s not Welsh is a foreigner, as far as she’s concerned. So it’s better that I tell her about you face to face, so she can see how much I love you. Then perhaps she’ll come to our wedding.’

  The girl’s anger dissolved. ‘Yes, I see what you mean. You’ll have to go to her, but it means that we won’t be able to have a decent honeymoon, and I was really looking forward to it.’

  ‘We’ll have a few days away,’ he consoled her, then he winked. ‘And nights.’

  She laughed then, knowing that the nights were to be far more exciting and fulfilling than the days, and as long as they were together, it didn’t matter where they were.

  Two days after Glynn went to Porthcross, Renee arrived home at teatime to find Jack Thomson in the living room. He stood up to shake hands with her, but she suddenly burst out laughing.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ He sounded slightly put out.

  ‘I was wondering what was different about you,’ she giggled, ‘and I’ve just realised . . .’

  ‘Oh.’ He stroked his upper lip proudly. ‘My moustache, do you mean?’

  ‘Is that what you call it?’

  ‘That’s what I call it, for that’s what it is.’ He pretended to be offended, but his eyes were now filled with amusement, too. ‘At least, that’s what it’ll be in another few weeks. What do you think of it . . . honestly?’

  Trying to keep a straight face, she studied him with mock seriousness. His cow’s lick still stuck up from his sandy head, his face was still fresh and boyish, and the appendage he was nurturing, a thin uneven line, looked incongruous.

  She fought back her mirth and said, ‘I suppose it suits you, Jack, but it was a bit of a shock, and . . . it’s ginger!’ She howled with laughter again.

  ‘Renee!’ Anne, who had come through from the scullery, looked reprimandingly at her daughter. ‘It’s not that funny.’

  The girl was still helpless with laughter and Jack ruefully joined in. ‘It is that funny, Mrs Gordon. I’ve known it ever since I started to grow it.’

  ‘Why don’t you shave it off ?’ Anne couldn’t understand why he would keep it on if he didn’t like it himself.

  ‘It’s a matter of principle, you see. A girl I know bet me that I wouldn’t have the nerve to grow a bushy moustache, and I want to let her see that I have.’

  At the mention of the girl, Renee stopped laughing. ‘Are you serious about this one, Jack?’ She hoped he was.

  He screwed up his face. ‘Not really, but we have a good time together.’

  Anne went to answer the doorbell, and ushered in Fred.

  ‘I’ll leave you to do the introductions, Renee. The girls’ll be home in a few minutes.’

  Jack couldn’t hide his astonishment when the girl said,

  ‘This is Fred Schaper, Jack. He’s Mum’s friend. Fred, this is Jack Thomson. You’ve heard us speaking about him.’

  The two men shook hands and smiled to each other, then Fred said, ‘I’ll just go and help your mother, Renee.’

  The girl turned to Jack. ‘I wish you could have met Glynn, too, but he’s off home on leave just now. We’ve set the wedding for the third of August.’

  ‘So you were serious about the Welshman?’ There was no hint of jealousy. ‘You’ve mentioned him so much in your letters that I thought you must be.’ His smile was quite genuine. ‘I’m very pleased that you’ve found somebody at last, and I truly hope you’ll both be very happy.’

  Renee hadn’t realised how much she had dreaded telling Jack about her marriage, but his calm acceptance made a huge wave of relief wash over her. She had romanticised about him for years before Glynn came on the scene, but this proved that he had never had any deep feelings for her, thank goodness.

  Everyone seemed to be in high fettle during the meal, Renee thought. Her mother and Fred were rather quiet at the start, but the merry atmosphere transmitted itself to them, too, after a while.

  Jack was flirting madly with the land girls, and even lifted Kitty’s left hand at one point. ‘You’re still engaged, I see. You’ve completely broken my heart.’

  Kitty giggled. ‘I could break it off, if you made me a better offer.’

  Flora, on his other side, fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  ‘I’m ready, willing and able,’ she informed him. ‘And I’ve no other attachments.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear.’ Jack transferred his attention to her, and Kitty pretended to be offended.

  ‘Your heart hasn’t stayed broken for long,’ she pouted.

  ‘All you men are so fickle.’

  ‘You’d be better off with me,’ Hilda put in. She was sitting next to Renee, and stretched her hand across the table towards him. ‘Kitty’s booked and Flora’s only teasing you, but I could be all that your heart ever desired.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jack said quietly, giving Renee a long, enigmatic look.

  She felt irritated with him and looked away. He had done it again – that soulful expression which made her imagine he cared for her – but he’d lost his chance. It was Glynn she was going to marry. It was Glynn she loved more than anyone else. Fred launched into a coarsely comic story which caused howls of laughter when it came to an end, except from Anne, who was very embarrassed, but Renee understood why he had done it.

  Standing on the doorstep, when she saw Jack off to catch the bus to Peterhead, Renee felt awkward with him, even sorry for him, in a way. ‘It was good to see you again, Jack,’ she said, primly. ‘I’m sorry you won’t be here for my wedding.’

  ‘I hope it all goes well for you,’ he replied. ‘I really mean that, Renee. I wish I could have met the lucky man, though.’

  ‘You probably will, the next time you’re here.’

  ‘Probably . . . It’s time I was going.’ He suddenly bent his head and kissed her full on the mouth. ‘It’s the last chance I’ll ever have,’ he murmu
red as he turned and walked away. Renee had been taken so unawares that she was left wondering if she would have allowed him to kiss her if she had known he meant to do it, or if she would have turned her face away from him. He had awakened a response in her that surprised and dismayed her. She hadn’t thought she could be so much affected by any man other than Glynn now.

  At the first opportunity after her bridegroom-to-be returned from Porthcross, Renee told him about Jack Thomson’s visit. She felt that she had to get that past before they spoke of anything else, a confession which wasn’t really a confession at all because nothing had actually happened.

  Glynn raised his eyebrows. ‘From the way you spoke about him sometimes, I used to think that you were a bit too fond of this Jack.’

  ‘I like him,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ve always liked him, and Tim, too, but there’s no need to be jealous of them.’

  ‘It was only Jack that bothered me.’

  ‘You can put him right out of your mind, darling. When I told him we were getting married, he said he was glad I’d found somebody at last.’

  Glynn put his arm round her. ‘I’m glad, too.’

  ‘Did you manage to persuade your mother to come to our wedding?’

  His smiling face fell. ‘No, I’m sorry, Renee, but she was very, very angry about it. You see, Eiddwen had told her a few weeks ago that she was finished with the Australian, and Mam was hoping . . . You know what mothers are,’ he ended hopelessly.

  ‘I know, but she can’t make you live your life the way she wants you to, Glynn. It’s me you love now, not Eiddwen. Did you tell her that?’

  ‘I told her until I was blue in the face, but it made no difference. Once we’re married, she might come round to wanting to meet you, but . . .’ He shrugged.

  His woebegone face saddened her. ‘It wasn’t your fault, Glynn darling, and it doesn’t matter. We don’t need her approval, anyway.’

  Renee tried not to show how bitterly disappointed she was. His mother’s attitude seemed like a bad omen for their marriage. But that was ridiculous. How could anything go wrong between them when she and Glynn loved each other so much?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Finding accommodation was much more difficult than Renee had imagined. She answered a few advertisements, but the single rooms she went to see were unattractively poky, sometimes even dirty, and she couldn’t expect Glynn to start their married life in a place like that. She began to think that they’d have to make use of the bed-settee, after all, although she’d meant that as a joke when she said it.

  Five weeks before the wedding, however, the problem was solved for her. It was a Friday, and, as soon as the land girls came in at teatime, Flora Simms walked into the scullery.

  ‘We’re being shifted, Mrs G.,’ she said, mournfully.

  ‘The four of you?’ Anne wasn’t all that surprised, because these girls had been with her for quite a long time, and nothing and nobody was static in wartime.

  ‘Not only us four, the whole lot of us.’ Flora grimaced.

  ‘They’re closing down the gardens, God knows why, and God knows what’s happening. They never tell us anything. All I know is, we’re being moved.’

  ‘Where’ll you be going?’

  ‘I’m going to somewhere near Montrose, Kitty’s going to the Perth area, and Nora and Hilda haven’t been told yet, but they won’t be together. They’ve made a pretty good job of splitting us up.’ She blew a loud raspberry. ‘That to the powers-that-be!’

  ‘When do you leave?’ Anne was sorry that they had to go. They’d been very easy to get on with, and had been no bother, except for the bathroom situation at times.

  ‘Next Saturday, and we’re all down in the dumps about it. We’ve enjoyed our stay here, and you’ve been ever so good to us all, Mrs G.’

  ‘You won’t be here for Renee’s wedding. What a shame. I was going to lay on an extra-special meal.’

  ‘Just our luck! I must scoot now, though, and we’ll have to rush our tea, because Kitty and I are meeting two Brylcreem boys . . . Don’t look so disapproving, Mrs G. They know she’s engaged.’ Flora almost ran out of the room.

  When Renee heard that the girls were leaving, she made no mention of a plan which immediately jumped to her mind, but she talked it over with Glynn that evening and tackled her mother about it the next day.

  ‘Mum, now there’ll be two rooms going spare, Glynn and I won’t need to look for anywhere else to live, will we? It’s not very handy, though, with one upstairs and one downstairs, so I was thinking . . . what about you moving back down to your original bedroom, and we could have the loft. We could make the other room into a kind of sitting room, and that would give us a private little flat of our own upstairs.’ Her eyes were hopeful.

  Her mother considered briefly, then said, ‘Yes, I suppose that would be quite a sensible idea, really.’

  ‘Oh, thanks, Mum. We’ll pay for the two rooms, of course, and for our board.’

  Anne smiled. ‘We can work that out later on.’ She paused then asked, in an offhand manner, ‘Has Glynn invited his mother to the wedding?’

  He had told them that his father had died a few years before, and that he had no brothers or sisters, so she knew that there was only his mother to worry about.

  ‘That’s why he went home,’ Renee replied, not wanting to admit the rest. ‘But she said she didn’t feel able to make such a long journey.’ It was only a white lie, she reflected.

  ‘I’d have thought she’d have wanted to see her only son being married.’ Anne’s voice held disapproval.

  ‘So would I.’ Renee still felt hurt and angry. ‘Maybe she doesn’t like the idea of him marrying a girl she doesn’t know.’ She could see that her mother was disappointed for her, and tried to assure her that it didn’t matter. ‘It’s Glynn I’m marrying, Mum, not his mother.’

  The house seemed empty and alien after the four girls left the following Saturday morning, and both Anne and Renee were glad to get out of it when it came time for them to visit the tenement in Woodside. Both Glynn and Fred were on duty that afternoon, and couldn’t accompany them, so it felt like old times for the two women to be going on their own.

  Maggie McIntosh smiled when they went in. ‘Did yer four lassies get awa’ this mornin’, Annie?’

  ‘Yes, and I miss them already. They were good fun, weren’t they, Renee?’

  ‘They certainly kept everything going with a swing,’ the girl agreed.

  ‘Will ye need to look for mair lodgers?’ Peter asked. Anne laughed. ‘I think you’ve guessed, Father. Renee and Glynn are going to take over the two upstairs rooms, and I’ll move down to the back bedroom. We’re going to start tomorrow to rearrange things.’

  ‘So it’s turned oot for the best,’ Maggie said. ‘You winna be kept so busy wi’ the lodgers awa’, Annie, but watch an’ nae strain yersel’s shiftin’ aboot at heavy furniture.’

  ‘Yes, Mother, we’ll watch.’ Anne smiled affectionately.

  ‘We’ll dismantle Mum’s double bed before we take it downstairs,’ Renee added, full of excitement at the move.

  ‘And the single bed I’m using just now can be stacked against the wall till we decide what to do with it.’

  Peter took his pipe out of his mouth. ‘I’d ha’e come to gi’e ye a hand, Annie, but I feel kind o’ useless jist noo. I’m that easy tired, I jist dinna ken what’s wrang wi’ me.’

  Maggie smiled fondly. ‘Ye’re nae so young as ye used to be, that’s what’s wrang, an’ ye’ve enough to dae here.’

  ‘There’s nothin’ wrang wi’ your tongue, ony road,’ he retorted.

  ‘We’ll manage, Father, don’t worry yourself about that.’ Anne was concerned about him, and his slow and laboured movements, when he saw them to the door, gave her more cause for anxiety.

  As they walked home, she said, ‘I hope your granda’
s OK, Renee. He wasn’t like himself at all.’

  ‘No, and he didn’t ask about the prices when I came back from the shops.’ The girl could see that her mother was very worried. ‘It’s maybe just one of his down days. We all have them, don’t we?’ But his lack of energy and spirit had bothered her, too.

  They walked on, not speaking for a few minutes, then Anne said, ‘We’ll have to give all the rooms a good spring clean before we start shifting the beds.’

  ‘We should get on quite well tomorrow, then, seeing Glynn and Fred have the weekend on duty. We won’t have to stop to make meals, or anything like that.’ She could hardly wait until the little ‘flat’ was ready for her and Glynn to take over once they were married.

  They worked hard all the next day in the back bedroom, scrubbing and cleaning as much as they could. They took down the curtains and stripped the bedclothes, to be washed on Monday. To Renee, it was a labour of love, and she could have worked on for ever, but Anne called a halt at five o’clock.

  ‘I think we’ve done enough for one day, Renee.’

  ‘We could carry on for a couple of hours in the evening,’ the girl said, enthusiastically. ‘Once you’ve had a rest for a while, you’ll feel better.’

  Anne sank wearily into her armchair in the living room.

  ‘There’s no sense in killing ourselves, for there’s plenty of time.’

  While Renee boiled two eggs each for their sustenance, by courtesy of the land girls but no longer to be forthcoming, Anne called through, ‘I’ve just been thinking. We’ll have three single beds spare, once you’re married.’

  Renee was pleased that her mother was keeping a double bed for herself. It meant that she did intend to marry Fred Schaper after the war. She pulled her mind back to the problem of disposing of the superfluous singles.

  ‘Quite honestly, Mum, they’re ancient. They’ve all seen better days. I’ve had mine since I was three, that’s nearly sixteen years, and the other two . . . Well, Granny gave you one of her old ones when you started taking lodgers, and the other one you got at the same time was past its best then, and that was almost nine years ago. I think you should just throw them out.’