by Anne Douglas
Couldn’t we meet for lunch somewhere?
Rod Warren had asked her that once, but she swiftly put the memory from her.
‘I suppose we could,’ she said slowly, half turning to see if her mother was on her way back. ‘Why don’t you give me a ring?’
‘No, let’s fix it now. How about next week – say, Wednesday? I could pick you up from your studio, if you like, if you’re doing a morning rehearsal?’
‘Wednesday would be fine. Shall we say twelve o’clock?’
‘I’ll be there,’ he said quickly, as Tilly, in her coat, arrived back, smiling to see Josh.
‘So, he turned up again?’ she murmured to Lorna on the way to the tram. ‘Seems keen, eh?’
‘I don’t know about that.’
Again, her mother studied her, but said nothing of her thoughts.
Sometimes, she was perhaps deciding, it was better not to put thoughts into words.
Thirty-Nine
Clang! It was only when Josh appeared at the door of the studio the following Wednesday, ready to meet her, that Lorna realized what she’d done. Allowed him to collect her in front of her whole band, that was all! How could she have been so stupid? She, who needed to be so private, as good as announcing to all her girls that she was going out with Josh Niven from Jackie Craik’s band, a fellow they all knew and no doubt had their eye on, he being such a heart-throb.
If she’d planned it, she couldn’t have given them more cause for giggles and gossip, and as she saw their eyes avidly sliding over him as he came directly to her, her heart sank to her best court shoes she’d put on for the occasion.
‘Hi, Josh!’ Bridie cried. ‘Looking for somebody?’
‘Found her,’ he answered easily, putting his hand on Lorna’s arm. ‘We’re just going for a little lunch.’
Did he have to say that? Lorna groaned to herself. Did he have to spell it out? They might just have thought for a moment that he’d come on business, mightn’t they? No, they wouldn’t have thought that. From the minute he’d stepped in the door, searched for her and found her, it had been clear enough to anyone that he’d come for one reason only and that was to see her. There was nothing for her to do, except to look happy, which in fact she might have been, if only she’d had the sense to meet him somewhere else. Or, if things had been different, anyway.
‘Come on, come on,’ she called, swinging her keys. ‘I want to lock up, so let’s get going.’
‘Going anywhere nice for lunch?’ young Trish, who’d once lost her heart to a soldier, asked eagerly, but Claire, who’d been standing by with her usual sour expression, only laughed.
‘As though there’s ever anywhere nice to go these days! It’ll be spam and salad again, I bet.’
‘No, I think spaghetti,’ Josh replied, turning to look at her. ‘I’m taking Lorna to a little Italian place I know.’
Claire shrugged and made for the door. ‘Best of luck, then,’ she called and left, leaving Trish and others around to smile.
‘In one of her moods,’ Bridie whispered.
‘Ah, she has moods?’ Josh asked lightly.
‘All the time,’ Trish told him. ‘Nobody crosses Claire.’
‘Never mind her now,’ Lorna murmured, shooing her girls before her out of the door. ‘Josh, are you coming? I have to lock up. Girls, see you tonight – eight o’clock sharp, eh?’
‘Don’t make a mistake and join our band at the Adelphi,’ Josh called with a grin.
‘Don’t tempt us!’ Bridie fired back. Then laughed at Lorna’s expression. ‘Only joking, boss!’
‘Honestly, they’re like a class of school kids,’ Lorna muttered, as she and Josh walked away together. ‘They’re the same as the men – a lot of Luke’s fellows always reminded me of boys at school. Except you, of course.’
‘Hope so!’ He took her arm and pressed it to his side. ‘Listen, are you feeling cross about something, Lorna? Has something happened?’
‘No, no.’ She sighed ‘I suppose it’s just that I know I’ll be in for a lot of teasing, now that the girls have seen you coming to collect me.’
‘Teasing? Why?’
‘Oh, you know what girls are like. Always looking for romance, and if they can’t find it, they make it up.’
‘You think they’re making up romance between you and me?’ His dark eyes glittered a little. ‘I’d like to think they needn’t do that.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’
‘No, you misunderstand.’ He drew her to a halt beside a small dark blue car. ‘I mean, they needn’t make up something that already exists.’
‘Come on, Josh.’ Lorna laughed uneasily. ‘There’s no romance between us. We’re going out together for the first time, remember.’
‘As though people need to go out at all, to have certain feelings.’ He studied her for a moment, then took out a car key and opened the doors of the little blue car. ‘Like to jump in? This is my new baby, a Morris Eight. Well, it’s more an old baby, really, but goes pretty well.’
‘I didn’t know you had a car!’ Lorna exclaimed, climbing readily into the passenger seat. ‘I’ve been thinking of having driving lessons myself. I could do with some transport.’
‘New cars are hard to get, but I could help you to look for something second hand, if you like. Give you driving lessons, too.’
‘If we ever find the time together.’
As he drove smoothly away, he gave her a quick sidelong glance. ‘I intend to find the time for that, Lorna.’
The little Italian place he knew was in a West End side street, owned by his cousin, Silvio, who greeted him with a beaming smile and a volley of Italian, before changing to English and shaking Lorna’s hand.
‘Welcome, signorina, welcome to my restaurant. It’s good you bring Joshua here, for he is always so busy, playing and playing, he never has the time to come and eat!’
‘So does the Signorina Fernie spend her time playing,’ Josh told him. ‘She plays the saxophone, like me, and has her own band.’
‘No! Her own band! This I must hear. But now you must come and eat and I will help you choose.’
Small, plump Silvio bustled them along to a window table for two, setting menus in front of them but telling them firmly what was best and then snapping his fingers to a waiter for a bottle of wine.
‘On the house,’ he whispered. ‘In celebration of seeing you again, Joshua, with this lovely lady. Now, I will see to your antipasto.’
‘You’d never think he was born and brought up here, would you?’ Josh whispered with a grin. ‘He likes to put on the Italian accent for the benefit of his customers, but when he feels like it, he sounds like a Scotsman, just like me.’
‘Josh, I’d never take you for a Scotsman,’ Lorna said, smiling. ‘Somehow, I wasn’t surprised to find you had an Italian mother.’
‘Sister of Silvio’s mother, yes, but my father was a Scot. He was an organist – played for a time at the cathedral where my mother was in the choir. It was love at first sight for them, even though their families didn’t approve. They married, though, and had me, but my father died when I was only a boy.’
‘Ah, I’m sorry, Josh. I know what it’s like, to lose a father, but at least I knew him until I was grown up.’ She drank a little of the wine the waiter had brought. ‘Are you and your mother very close, then?’
‘Pretty close. One day I’d like you to meet her, but at present she’s in Italy, looking after my grandmother. The whole family was here at one time – no surprise if I tell you they were in the ice cream trade – but my gran went home eventually.’ Josh twirled his glass. ‘I suppose, that side of my family will always think of Italy as home.’
To Lorna, listening intently, all this sounded very romantic, but after what she’d been saying about a different kind of romance, she didn’t dare to make the comment. Still, there was no doubt, as their lunch progressed, Josh seemed to be taking on a romantic haze of his own, even when he was only teaching her how to eat spaghetti
and they were both laughing at her efforts. The question of how things were going to develop between them was very much in her mind.
Forty
‘A little lunch you call this?’ she asked, when the waiter had whisked away the plates for the main course that had followed the spaghetti. ‘I don’t feel I can ever eat again. How does Silvio do it? I mean, with the rationing and shortages and everything?’
‘Ah, you never ask,’ Josh answered, putting his finger to his lips. ‘Ways and means, he might say if you did, but he’d never explain. Like coffee? It’s very strong.’
‘Perhaps I need it, though.’
‘Right, we’ll have coffee, then I’ll settle up.’ He gave her another of his long intense looks. ‘It’s very nice here, watching Silvio at work, being waited on, but all I want, really, is to be with you.’
‘You’re with me now.’
‘You know I mean just the two of us, on our own.’
‘That can be difficult.’
‘You’re forgetting my car.’
It was true, she had forgotten it, but now understood what he meant. A car could be a little world quite separate from the real one; a refuge, a safe house. A place to be so close with someone, you need think of no one else.
‘I don’t think we have time to go driving today,’ she told Josh, as the waiter placed their espresso coffee before them. ‘With George and Flo away, I’m working on arrangements. Not my forte, really, but I’m improving.’
‘Arrangements? You have to do arrangements? The first time I persuade you to be with me?’ Josh drained his coffee at a gulp and set the cup down. ‘Why do you do this, Lorna? Why do you push me away? Hold me at arm’s length?’
She sat back, fingering her own cup, not willing to meet his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Josh. I know it seems like that.’
For some moments, he sat staring into her face, as though he would read it like a book. Then he leaped up and signed to their waiter.
‘This is hopeless,’ he whispered. ‘We can’t talk here. Let’s go.’
‘Was good?’ cried Silvio, running over. ‘Signorina, you enjoy it?’
‘Oh, yes, thank you, it was wonderful. A wonderful experience, my first Italian meal.’ She managed a radiant smile. ‘Now I know what spaghetti should really be like.’
‘So, Joshua must bring you again! And soon, eh?’ Silvio, delighted, was all for waiving the bill, but Josh paid anyway and, after managing to make their farewells, he and Lorna left the restaurant.
‘So friendly, your cousin,’ Lorna murmured. ‘So – what’s the word – outgoing.’
‘You’re thinking, not like me?’ Josh asked wryly as they drove through the West End.
‘I didn’t say that.’
He shrugged over the wheel. ‘Look, can you really not spare more time for me this afternoon? Maybe we could just go to the Botanics? Walk a little?’
‘All right,’ she conceded, ‘but I really don’t want to be out too long.’
‘Fine. I promise I’ll get you back to those damned arrangements any time you say.’
Neither spoke on the short drive to the Botanic Gardens, favourite walking place for Edinburgh folk and visitors, the Scottish answer to Kew, complete with Palm House, glasshouses, exotic trees and a lake with ducks.
Lorna was thinking of what she could possibly say to Josh. Tell him the truth? She had a son, who was Rod Warren’s boy, back home with her mother? Even to imagine his reaction was too much for her mind to accept. All that would happen, she knew, was that this budding relationship would snap as easily as one clipped off a flower. At this early stage, it would be easy for him just to give her up. A woman with another man’s child, and that man being Rod Warren? Tell him, tell him, she told herself. Watch his face.
But as he parked the car and turned to look down at her, his gaze melting into hers, she felt the sharp pain of rejection almost as though it had already happened and decided she need say nothing yet. Obviously, he would have to be told of Sam if their relationship really developed. But why not wait till then? With huge inward relief, she made the decision.
They left the car and began to walk through the tree-lined gardens, pausing at the lake to watch children feeding the ducks, smiling at the activity.
‘Here’s a bench,’ Josh said, when they turned towards one of the great glasshouses. ‘Like to sit for a while, if it isn’t too cold?’
The April wind was certainly not warm, but they sat close on the bench and after a moment held hands and looked at each other.
‘May I ask you again why you’re holding away from me?’ Josh said quietly. ‘Don’t say we are together now. You know what I mean, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I know what you mean.’
‘Is it because of Rod? Is he still in your mind?’
‘No, he’s water under the bridge.’
‘He hurt you, though, didn’t he? Maybe he’s made you afraid? Of being hurt again?’
‘We hurt each other. Because we wanted different things.’
‘If it isn’t Rod,’ Josh said slowly, ‘it must be me. Maybe you haven’t forgiven me yet, for the way I used to be?’ He pulled his hands from hers. ‘Certainly haven’t forgiven myself.’
‘Most men in bands feel the way you did. I don’t know why, but they’re just suspicious of women players. See them as rivals, I suppose, because they have to admit, the girls know how to play.’
‘So childish,’ Josh was muttering, as two red spots burned darkly in his cheeks. ‘Can you believe it – I thought you’d be taking all my solos? You were so lovely, I guessed Luke was going to push you forward, make you the star. It didn’t seem fair.’
‘And it wouldn’t have been, only he never wanted to do that. I was just somebody he could pay less money to, that was all.’
Scarcely listening, Josh was dwelling on the past. ‘So, I threw away my chances, didn’t I? For the sake of pride, I let Rod Warren move in and by the time I realized what I was feeling for you, it was too late.’ He raised his eyes to hers. ‘Too late to make you think of me.’
When she looked away, he caught her hand again. ‘It’s not too late, though, is it? Because Rod’s gone. He’s water under the bridge. That’s what you said, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, and it’s true. I don’t think of him now.’
‘So why won’t you let yourself think of me? Is it because you remember the way I was?’
‘I do think of you, Josh. I like to be with you.’
‘But you’re afraid of getting in too deep? Just want to get on with your career?’
‘Maybe.’ She pushed her bright hair from her face. ‘Maybe it’s that, Josh.’
‘Lorna, don’t be afraid!’ he cried, putting his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. ‘Please, just relax. Meet me, go out with me, see how things go. And I promise, if you do, there’ll be no strings.’
Were there people around? She found she didn’t care. As she drew away to let her eyes go over his face so finely lit with feeling, she knew she was going to see him again, whatever the cost. Maybe she was taking a risk, but life was full of risks. ‘Meet me, go out with me, see how things go,’ he’d said . . . That’s what she would do.
‘The problem’s going to be,’ she whispered, her voice shaking a little, ‘that we have so few chances to meet.’
‘Don’t you worry, we’ll make chances,’ he told her, his own voice shaking. And then they kissed, very gently, as though honouring a pact, and stood up together, to walk slowly, arm in arm, back to the car.
Outside her flat, they stood on the step, their eyes examining the new person each had become, for already their commitment had brought change. They were not the same people who had set out to the Italian restaurant earlier that day.
‘Good luck with your arrangements,’ Josh said hoarsely.
‘To tell you the truth, I’m just longing for George to come back.’
‘You’ll do well. I know your talents.’ He laughed a little. �
�Used to think I could give you some tips for the sax – you know, different fingering, glissando, all that stuff. Found you knew it all.’
‘Oh, my sax playing is OK, but with arrangements, you need to know everyone else’s instruments, too, and what goes where.’ She was still studying his face, not really caring what she was saying. ‘As I say, though, I’m improving. I hope.’
‘Of course, you are improving.’ Josh looked round at passers by, then kissed her briefly on the cheek. ‘When can we meet, then?’
‘I don’t know. We’ll have to see.’
‘I’ll ring you?’
‘Yes, ring me.’ As he reluctantly turned to go, she called to him. ‘And, Josh, thank you for the lunch. I loved it.’
‘The first of many, I hope. But thank you for coming.’ He smiled, slightly bowing his dark head. ‘Better find my car, I suppose. Arrividerci, Lorna.’
She made no reply, only waved, until he had turned the corner of the street, making for where he’d parked the car, and was lost to her. Now, she thought, pretending to be her old efficient self, for those arrangements. But it took her some time to do anything, except sit in her chair and face what she had taken on. Taken on and would not let go. For, already, she was looking forward to another meeting with Josh.
Forty-One
He did ring, and soon. The next morning, in fact, as Lorna was cleaning her teeth.
‘Why, Josh, it’s you!’ she cried, through a mouthful of toothpaste. ‘I thought it was an emergency, someone in the band.’
‘Only me, I’m afraid,’ he said smoothly. ‘This seemed the best time to be sure of catching you.’
‘It’s certainly early enough. What did you want to ask me?’
‘You know what I want to ask you. When can we meet?’
‘Honestly, Josh, I’ve only just got up – can’t think straight. When do you suggest?’
‘This afternoon? Jackie’s called a rehearsal this morning, but we’ll be finished by lunch time.’
‘I’m afraid I’ve an appointment at the King’s. We’re playing there next week. I want to see the set up.’