by Anne Douglas
‘Tomorrow, then? Anything wrong with tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow will be fine. But make it after lunch and meet me here.’
‘Too late to worry about the girls at the studio, isn’t it?’ he asked, and she could tell he was smiling.
‘Maybe, but I’d be happier if you came here.’
‘Anything to make you happy, Lorna. I’ll be with you at one.’
When he had put the phone down, she stared at it for a moment, then moved to the bathroom where she looked at her face in the mirror. Oh, Lord! Good job Josh couldn’t see what a fright she looked, with her hair uncombed and a white ring of drying toothpaste round her mouth! Time to make herself look normal. Her hand on the washbasin tap was trembling.
When he arrived at the flat the following day, punctually at one o’clock, she had regained her calm. A little time away from him had made her wonder if she might be over emphasizing his feelings – and her own. There would be no point in seeing more than there was in this new relationship. For the more there was, the more there would be to worry about.
As soon as he came in, though, and stood looking round at where she lived, all her doubts of his feelings and hers were swept away in a rush of pleasure at seeing him again. Worry was there, of course, but lost in the cascade as she worked hard to regain her earlier composure, while looking around for her jacket and fussing with her hair.
‘Nice place,’ he murmured, helping her to put the jacket on. ‘You shared this with Flo?’
‘Yes, she still has stuff here, but she’ll be moving into George’s flat when she comes back.’
‘You’ll miss her.’
‘I will. She’s great company.’
‘But then it might be good to have the flat to yourself.’
‘Oh, yes.’ She glanced at him from the hall mirror. ‘You don’t share with anyone?’
He grinned. ‘No one would put up with me. Anyway, my place is nothing like this. Just a one-bedroomed flat in a modern block near the infirmary. People all around, making as much noise as possible.’
‘Well, I’ve an old biddy on the ground floor who acts like she’s my keeper, and upstairs there’s a family who wear clogs day and night – or seems like it.’ She waved a hand. ‘But, I like it here and reckon I’m lucky to have it. Like to look round?’
‘Please.’
Her high-ceilinged sitting room, still showing New Town elegance, he had already admired, but then she let him peep into the kitchen, created from somebody’s long ago study, and the well-appointed bathroom. When they reached the bedrooms, Lorna pointed out first Flo’s, then her own, but Josh, making no comment, only nodded from the doorway and returned to the hall.
Had he been embarrassed to see her bed? Lorna wondered, for he seemed to be avoiding her eye. Normally as straight as a soldier, his shoulders were a little hunched as he looked down at his car keys in his hand.
‘Seems funny,’ he said, at last raising his eyes.
‘What does?’
‘Well, your having a place like this on your own. An Italian girl, you know, would never be allowed it.’
‘Why not?’
He shrugged. ‘Parents like to keep tabs on daughters.’
‘Heavens above, Josh, I’ve had the key of the door for some time. I’m fully grown up, I have my own band, I’m making my way – why on earth shouldn’t I have my own place to live?’
‘Oh, no reason at all,’ He took her hand. ‘I don’t necessarily agree with Italian ideas.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘So, where shall we go?’ He was brightening as they left the flat and walked to his car. ‘How about Peebles? Have tea at a hotel – and be anonymous?’
‘You think I want to be anonymous?’
‘You give me the feeling you’d like to be.’
‘When I’m a bandleader?’
‘That’s the role you’ve taken on. When you step out of it, you’re . . . someone else.’ His voice was low but strong, filled with sudden emotion. ‘That’s the person I want to know.’
Lorna, opening the passenger door of the car, took her seat without at first answering. But as Josh drove smoothly away, she turned to look at his fine profile.
‘I do want you to know me, Josh. The real me, just as I am.’
‘I’m glad. I want us to know each other.’ He flashed her a quick glance. ‘Without secrets, without reserve.’
‘Next stop, Peebles,’ she said lightly.
In the splendour of the tea lounge of a grand hotel in Peebles, an ancient royal burgh some miles from Edinburgh, they sat facing each other across scones and fancy cakes the likes of which Lorna hadn’t seen for years.
‘Never mind anything else,’ she said, delightedly pouring tea, ‘I’d come here for the cakes alone.’
‘Ah, Lorna, it’s so good to see you relaxing.’ Josh leaned across the table towards her. ‘Now you’re becoming your real self, aren’t you?’ He covered her hand with his. ‘And not shutting me out.’
‘Everything all right, sir?’ a waiter asked before Lorna could speak, but Josh nodded.
‘More than all right, thank you.’
‘Very good, sir.’
When the waiter had withdrawn, Lorna looked about her and breathed a sigh of contentment. This vast dining room, where a trio played light music to guests who were only interested in one another, wonderfully suited her mood.
‘It’s true, you could be anonymous here,’ she said softly. ‘Big hotels – they’re the places to lose yourself. I’ve often thought that, playing at some of the Glasgow ones, and in Edinburgh.’
‘You’re not lost now, though,’ Josh murmured, playing with her hand. ‘Because I’ve found you.’
She smiled indulgently. ‘Think I could get my band an engagement here, Josh?’
‘Too noisy. It’d be like playing in a cathedral.’
‘Bet they have a ballroom. We wouldn’t be too noisy for that.’
‘I’d better tell Jackie to get in first,’ he said impishly. ‘We are rivals, you know.’
She only gave a light-hearted laugh, and Josh raised a hand for the bill.
On the way home, which led through pleasant countryside just coming into the beauty of late spring, their good spirits lasted, buoying them up on billows of well being. It might work out, Lorna, was even thinking, it just might, but when Josh stopped the car in a quiet lay-by, he surprised her by speaking again of Rod.
‘You know we were talking about Rod the other day?’ he began. ‘Mind if I ask you something?’
‘About Rod?’ she asked uncertainly.
‘Yes. I’ve been wondering what you meant when you said you both wanted different things. What sort of things?’
Lorna’s lips tightened. She stared straight ahead without speaking.
‘I’m sorry if it upsets you to talk about it, don’t worry,’ Josh said quickly. ‘I needn’t know. It’s none of my business.’
‘No, it’s all right. I don’t mind telling you. We were thinking of getting married—’
‘Married?’
‘Well, yes. We were sort of engaged.’
‘Go on, then.’
‘Well, we discussed things and it turned out that Rod didn’t want me to continue with my music.’
‘What – give up your sax?’
‘Professionally, anyway. He thought – it’s what a lot of guys think – that once we were married, he’d be breadwinner and I’d keep house.’ Lorna slid her gaze to Josh, whose fine eyes had widened. ‘Are those your ideas, Josh? I bet it’s what Italian men think.’
‘I’m only half Italian, Lorna. It’s not what I think.’
‘You mean that?’ Her eyes had begun to shine. ‘You’d let your wife work? Have a proper job?’
‘Yes, I would. Why not? If it was what she wanted.’ Josh was shaking his head. ‘Think of the waste, if you had to give up your band!’
‘Oh, Josh!’
Before she could stop herself, she’d flung her arms around
him, pressing her face to his, at which his mouth found hers and together they kissed, long and slowly, finally drawing away and gazing at each other.
‘You know what’s happened, don’t you?’ Josh said, touching her cheek. ‘Lorna, I’m in love with you.’
Though her thoughts were whirling and words were almost tumbling from her lips, she said nothing, and he put his hands on her shoulders and gently shook her.
‘Is it such a surprise? Surely, you knew?’
‘Sort of,’ she said huskily. ‘But maybe it’s too soon, Josh, to be talking about love.’
‘No, it’s not too soon. When I say it’s happened, it hasn’t just happened. I’ve cared about you for a long time. I told you, didn’t I, how it was? That I left it too late to tell you? That Rod stepped in where I wanted to be?’
‘Yes, you told me.’
‘And during all those early days, you never thought of looking my way, because of him, but now that he’s gone, you’re free, aren’t you?’
His gaze on her was so intense, she felt for a moment that he would see into her mind, read her secrets. But free, he thought her, so that couldn’t be true. For she wasn’t free – and didn’t want to be – of what might come between them. Only, as she looked at him, so handsome, so yearning, she felt she would have given a great deal to be able to say she loved him. To be free, in that way.
‘We’d better go,’ she told him, sighing. ‘We’ve work ahead.’
‘You haven’t said yet, that you love me.’
‘Let’s no’ put things into words just yet, Josh. Let’s just see each other, the way you said, and—’
‘And see how things go?’ He groaned a little. ‘I already know how they’ve gone for me.’
‘Come on.’ She kissed him again, gently and sweetly. ‘Let’s get back. No need to look sad, this isn’t goodbye.’
‘Feels like goodbye to me.’
‘More, arrividerci,’ she whispered, and at that he smiled, reluctantly straightening himself in the driving seat and starting the car’s engine.
‘Home, then, sweetheart, but not before you promise to see me again as soon as possible.’
‘You know I will.’
At her flat, disregarding old Mrs MacAllan’s twitching of lace curtains, they kissed swiftly, Josh’s eyes alight, Lorna’s closed, until she opened them and ran to her front door.
‘Ring me,’ she cried.
‘I will!’
And then they were apart and she was in her bedroom, trying to think of the time and the evening’s engagement, what she would wear, what her band would be playing . . .
And, oh, God, little Sam. When would she see him? Tomorrow. Tomorrow, after morning rehearsal, she’d go round to Ma’s, see Sam, take him something special.
As she began hastily to prepare to go out, to put on her professional facade, tears began to fall, gathering and spilling, and she had to stop, to wipe them away.
Forty-Two
When Flo and George arrived back from honeymoon, they were, of course, full of all they’d seen in London. The sights, the plays, the concerts, but mainly the big bands.
‘Oh, God, those guys, those bandleaders!’ George exclaimed. ‘You wouldn’t believe how good they are. The panache, the professionalism – I’m not running down Luke or Jackie, you understand . . .’
‘Or Lorna!’ Flo said crisply. ‘And they weren’t all men, remember. How about the wonderful Ivy Benson?’
‘Oh, Ivy – she’s a stunner,’ George agreed. ‘And her girls are top notch, no doubt about it. But that’s what I’m saying, there are so many top notch bands down there, so many classy leaders – Ambrose, Jack Hylton, Ted Heath – they really inspired us, eh, Flo? To put the Melody Girls on the map.’
‘Make it sound as though we’d have to be in London for that,’ Lorna remarked.
‘You’re right!’ cried George. ‘That’s where the venues are. So many of ’em, you see. Fancy clubs, theatres, dance halls, not to mention the BBC. You should hear these London bands broadcasting! Now, if we could only land ourselves their sort of contracts!’
‘The thing is, we’re a Scottish band,’ Lorna told him. ‘We might do a few bookings in London, but we’d never make it our base. Edinburgh’s our base and that’s where we’ll stay.’
‘OK, OK.’ George gave a regretful sigh. ‘But let’s at least see if we can get an English tour, eh? Want me to get on to it?’
‘Sure. I’m all for a tour. Just as long as we come back here.’
‘So, now we’ve sorted out our future, can I get on with packing up my gear?’ Flo asked, for they had been sitting for some time in Lorna’s flat, showing their honeymoon snaps and drinking coffee. ‘George, how about you bringing up the cases from the car?’
‘It’s good that George has a car, too,’ Lorna said, moving with Flo to her old bedroom. ‘Josh has a Morris Minor.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Flo gave her a curious look. ‘Been seeing Josh, have you?’
‘We’ve been out a couple of times.’
‘I told you he was interested, didn’t I? And you see I was proved right.’ But Flo, still studying Lorna, was shaking her head. ‘How come you’re looking far from over the moon?’
‘You think I should be over the moon, to be going out with Josh?’ Lorna opened a wardrobe and took down some of Flo’s clothes. ‘Shall I put these on the bed for you?’
‘Oh, never mind about my things. Tell me what’s wrong. Come on, tell me, Lorna. No point in bottling it up.’
‘I should’ve thought you’d know what was wrong, anyway.’ Lorna looked down at the dresses in her arms. ‘I haven’t told him about Sam.’
‘Oh.’ Flo’s expression changed. ‘I think I understand, then.’
‘Got the cases,’ George called, putting his head round the door. ‘Want ’em here?’
‘Yes, please,’ Flo answered. ‘Then why don’t you read the paper next door and I’ll give you a call when we’re ready?’
‘Suits me,’ George said with a grin. ‘I’d be no good at packing your stuff.’
When he’d retired to the living room, Flo, having closed the bedroom door, made Lorna sit on the bed and took her place next to her.
‘What are you going to do? I have the feeling that Josh is keen and so are you. You must work something out.’
‘By work something out, you mean, tell him.’
‘Exactly. There’s nothing else for it, Lorna. Bite on the bullet. Explain how it was.’
‘How it was!’ Lorna leaped up. ‘The truth is I made love with Rod Warren, the last person Josh would want to think of with me. He’d never be able to accept it, he’d drop me without thinking twice.’ Lorna’s voice trembled. ‘And to have him despise me – I’d feel so terrible, Flo. Because I have begun to care for him. It took me a long time to get over Rod, and I never thought Josh could replace him, but now I don’t want to give him up.’
‘He won’t despise you!’ Flo cried. ‘He’ll understand. These things happen. It was just the one time – you got carried away. Tell him, and you’ll see.’
‘He won’t understand. Because Sam’s father is Rod. It would just be too much.’
‘The thing is, Lorna, you have no choice in this,’ Flo said steadily. ‘If you want a future with Josh, he has to know about Sam. You can’t hide your son away for ever.’
The colour rushed to Lorna’s face and tears began to thicken her voice. ‘I will tell him,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But I’ll wait a while. Until the time is right. That would be best.’
‘Lorna, the time is now.’ Flo rose and began to pack her dresses into one of the suitcases George had brought. ‘What does your ma think, then?’
‘I haven’t said anything to Ma about Josh yet.’
‘Haven’t said anything to your ma? Honestly, Lorna, for such a strong person, you’re behaving like some poor old ostrich! Come on, get a grip. Sort out your life. It can only be for the best.’
‘All right, all right.’ Lorna began to hand c
lothes across to Flo. ‘I suppose I should tell Ma,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘I’ll do that next time I see her.’
‘That’d be something done, at least,’ Flo commented. ‘But Josh is the one who counts.’
‘You’ve made your point,’ Lorna said shortly. ‘Let’s leave this for now.’
She had thought her mother’s advice would be the same as Flo’s. ‘Tell him. Bite on the bullet.’
But when, the following afternoon, she told Tilly that she was seeing Josh, the look on her mother’s face only seemed to confirm her own fears.
‘Going out with that handsome young man?’ Tilly murmured, as she and Lorna watched Sam rolling one of his cars up and down the sofa. ‘I had an idea he was keen when I saw him at the wedding.’
‘It’s early days,’ Lorna said hesitantly, ‘but I think . . . I think we are beginning to care for each other.’
‘And you’ve got a problem.’ Tilly’s eyes moved from Sam to Lorna. ‘Because he doesn’t know yet?’
‘He doesn’t know.’
‘But you’re wondering how he’ll take it?’
‘I’ve a pretty good idea.’
‘Aye.’ Tilly sighed. ‘I’ve known one or two lassies in the same situation. Worrying what to do, when they met a new fellow.’
‘What did they do?’
‘Had to tell the men, of course.’
‘And what happened?’
‘One fellow didn’t mind. He married the girl, anyway.’
‘And the others?’
Tilly shrugged. ‘Cried off. Didn’t want another man’s child to bring up.’
‘I see.’
‘You can understand their feelings, eh? I mean, a babby to think about before they’d even got wed, and no’ theirs?’
‘Oh, I understand, all right. All too well.’
‘Better to tell Josh and get it over with, before you’re in too deep, eh?’
‘Maybe. But I think I’ll leave it for a bit, Ma. See how things go.’
Tilly’s gaze returned to Sam, who was now singing to himself as he tried to fit a toy soldier into his car.
‘He’s a lovely little lad,’ she whispered. ‘Anybody could be proud of him.’
‘I am proud, Ma, I am.’ Lorna stood up. ‘And I will tell Josh. As soon as I can pick the best time.’