by Anne Douglas
‘Just don’t get your hopes up, then,’ her mother said quietly. ‘It’s a lot to ask a man. Don’t blame him, if he can’t do what you want.’
‘The only person I’m blaming is myself,’ Lorna answered. ‘If I hadn’t been such a fool . . .’
‘You wouldn’t have had Sam.’
‘Oh, Ma!’ Lorna wailed, bursting into tears, at which Sam, looking worried, ran to her and gave her his car, and Tilly, shedding a few tears herself, said she’d put the kettle on.
Forty-Three
As summer followed spring, bringing long, long days, trees in full leaf, folk feeling relaxed now that winter was a memory, Lorna and Josh began to live for each other. Every time they could, they met. To drive somewhere, if Josh could get the petrol, to walk, to kiss, to hold, to sigh over their sweet passion, never actually making love, or even talking of it, but feeling it there, all the time, in the background of their lives.
Usually, of course, because of their evening commitments, they had to meet by day, but a night did come when both their bands were free of engagements, and they were able to meet for dinner and the theatre. It was then that Lorna suggested Josh should come in to her flat with her, for previously he had shown a strange reluctance to do so when he brought her home in the daytime.
‘Come in for coffee,’ she had urged. ‘Josh, why don’t you?’
‘Ah, it’s that old lady twitching her curtains,’ he’d told her, his expression uneasy. ‘It would just put me off being with you, wondering what she was thinking.’
‘Heavens, you don’t have to worry about her!’ Lorna had cried. ‘What she thinks is of no importance.’
‘To me, it is,’ Josh answered seriously. ‘For your sake. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression about you.’
‘She’s one old lady, Josh, no’ people. It isn’t going to hurt me, what she thinks of me.’
‘Reputation is very important. Particularly for young women.’
‘Now you’re talking like an Italian,’ Lorna had said uneasily. ‘And I don’t see why young women’s reputations should matter more than young men’s.’
‘But you know they do,’ Josh replied. ‘Even today.’ He looked about him. ‘And you see, it’s broad daylight. Anyone could see me going into your flat.’
‘You didn’t mind coming in that time you came to collect me, did you?’
‘I knew I wouldn’t be staying long.’ Josh’s look softened. ‘It would be different now.’
After they’d been to the theatre, however, the daylight had faded when they arrived back at Lorna’s flat, and the old lady’s curtains were firmly drawn across her window.
‘Are you coming in, then?’ Lorna asked, standing with her key in her hand.
‘Thank you,’ Josh said quietly. ‘This time I’d like to.’
In her flat, Lorna drew the curtains, slipped off her coat and went to the kitchen to make coffee.
‘You sit down, Josh,’ she called. ‘I won’t be long.’
But he had followed her and before she could even put out cups, had taken her in his arms. For an eternity of bliss, they clung together, kissing more and more passionately, until they moved into the living room where they lay together on the sofa, half out of their clothes, lost to a rapture that if it wasn’t true rapture was as near to it as their barriers would permit.
But suddenly Josh leaped up, buttoning his shirt, putting on his jacket, his face a mask of desire as he looked down at her, but his decision very clear. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry, Lorna,’ he muttered. ‘This isn’t how I meant things to be tonight. Not at all what I’d planned.’
‘Why, what had you planned?’ Lorna asked, rising and straightening her dress. ‘I didn’t know you’d planned anything.’
‘How about making the coffee?’ he asked with a smile. ‘That should sober us up.’
‘We haven’t exactly been drinking, Josh.’
‘Haven’t we? I feel intoxicated, anyway.’
And so do I, Lorna thought, making the coffee with trembling hands. For how else had she come close to letting herself go with Josh, in just the same way as she’d done with Rod? How else had she almost given way to feelings that might end in disaster? Only, of course, tonight they hadn’t. Josh had kept his head, drawn back, and now here was she, making coffee, and acting as though nothing had happened.
‘Black for you,’ she murmured, taking in her tray to the living room. ‘And no sugar? I’ve made it nice and strong.’
‘Thank you.’
They sat down on the sofa, both looking quite correct, clothes neat, hair tidy, only their eyes so full of feeling giving them away.
‘Tell me what you’d planned, then,’ Lorna murmured.
‘You make it sound so formal.’
‘You’re the formal one, Josh.’
‘Maybe. I like to do things by the book.’ He gave an uncertain smile. ‘But that’s not always possible. Depends what other people want.’
‘I wish you’d tell me what you’re talking about.’ Lorna, sensing that Josh was nervous, was nervous, too, drinking her coffee quickly, dabbing at her lips with a still shaking hand.
‘Never thought this would be so difficult.’ He bent his head, staring into his cup, then set the cup aside and looked up, straight into Lorna’s eyes.
‘Lorna, will you marry me?’
Long afterwards, she was to remember that moment. The way she had caught her breath, felt her heart drumming, her head swimming. And how Josh’s eyes, so dark, almost black, so intense, had held her as though in thrall, so that her thoughts were flying everywhere, but her body remained still.
‘Well?’ he asked, with stiff lips. ‘What do you say?’
‘Josh – I – I’m stunned.’
‘Stunned?’ His mouth relaxed, curved into a smile. ‘Is that good or bad? For me?’
‘Good,’ she gasped. ‘Oh, Josh, of course it’s good!’
‘You still haven’t answered. Haven’t said yes, or no.’
‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘I’m saying yes! I will marry you, Josh. If you want me.’
‘Want you?’ He drew her to him. ‘Lorna, you know I want you. I want us to be man and wife, to be together always. Isn’t that what you want, too?’
‘Yes, yes, it is. But it’s all happened so quickly, Josh . . .’
‘No, you keep saying that, but it hasn’t been quick for me. I told you, you’ve been in my mind a long, long time. I even told my mother about you, before she went to Italy, to prepare the ground, I suppose.’ Josh laughed. ‘Even though I’d no real hope of love from you at the time.’
‘You told your mother?’ Lorna freed herself from his arms. ‘Did you think she wouldn’t approve? I know I’m the wrong religion.’
‘No, we’re not a religious family. My mother wouldn’t be too worried that you’re not a Catholic. Just as long as you are right for me, someone she could love as a daughter, and I said you would be just that.’ Josh leaned forward and kissed Lorna on the lips. ‘So, you see, my darling, we’re halfway there, already. Now, we only need permission from your mother, and I think she liked me, didn’t she? That time we met at the wedding?’
‘My mother?’ Lorna stammered. ‘Josh, I’m sure she did like you, but there’s no need to ask her permission. I can say what I want to do.’
‘I know it’s not legally necessary, but it would be correct.’ Josh was smiling indulgently. ‘When can we meet? May I visit her at home?’
A cold hand grasped Lorna’s heart, as she thought of her darling Sam, at home with her mother, and as the colour faded from her cheeks, she knew the time had come to be honest with Josh. Tell him, her inner voice ordered, tell him now. You have no choice, it has to be now.
But the words did not come. Instead, she said quickly, ‘Oh, yes, I’ll fix it up, but she does dressmaking, you know, and works at home, so it might be easier if she came here and we all had a meal, or something. Yes, that’s what we’ll do, because of course she’ll want to meet you, when you’re
going to be her son-in-law.’
‘Fine,’ Josh murmured, his expression a little puzzled. ‘I’ll look forward to that, then. But now, let’s get down to business. When can we go out to choose the ring?’
‘The ring? Oh, Josh, we don’t need a ring. No’ yet.’
Though a ring from him would mean so much to her, Lorna instinctively shied away from wearing one until she had leaped the barrier that still stood between her and happiness. When she had told Josh the truth about Sam, when she had got her tongue round the words and he’d accepted the situation, then she could wear his ring. If he accepted it, she corrected herself. If. And it was a big if, one she could scarcely face.
In the meantime, it would be better if they were not to announce the engagement. Maybe just tell Ma and Flo, and keep it as their special secret.
‘Let’s wait a while, Josh,’ she said persuasively. ‘Let’s enjoy our love all to ourselves for the time being.’
‘Why? Why not tell people, Lorna? I’m proud to be engaged to you, I want to shout my love from the housetops. Don’t you?’
‘Yes, but later. The thing is, George is planning an English tour. We’ll be separated for a while, and I’d have to put up with all the teasing, you know from the girls . . .’
It sounded weak, and she knew it, but Josh, gazing at her steadfastly, seemed eventually prepared to let her have her way. ‘If it’s what you really want,’ he said slowly. ‘We’ll wait a while. But what’s all this about a tour? How can I bear it, if you leave me, Lorna? I can hardly manage to say goodnight.’
And it was only after a long sweet kiss that he did say goodnight, moving ever more slowly towards her door, still holding her close.
‘Why did you apologize for kissing me before?’ she whispered, smoothing her fingers down his cheek. ‘When you were planning to propose?’
‘Ah, that was just the Italian coming out in me,’ he answered easily, pressing his lips to her hand. ‘We’re taught, you know, to respect women, especially a woman we intend to marry. I was overstepping the mark, then, wasn’t I?’
‘Those kisses were different from now?’
‘You know they were.’ He gave her one last hug. ‘Oh, God, Lorna, let’s get married soon, eh?’
‘Let’s,’ she answered fervently.
But when he had left her and she sat alone, she felt her earlier euphoria fast draining from her and only apprehension taking hold.
Forty-Four
Sometimes, in the days that followed, it seemed to Lorna that those she cared about were making things difficult for her. Not Josh, of course, for he had no idea of her dilemma, but her mother, Auntie Cissie, Flo and George, were all, as she saw it, being unsympathetic.
Her mother, for instance, had flatly refused to come to Lorna’s flat for a meal with Josh, and had declared that Lorna should not even consider herself to be engaged until she’d told him what he needed to know. And Cissie had fervently agreed.
‘Why, pet, you’re walking on a knife edge!’ she exclaimed. ‘You should have found out right at the start what this laddie would think of the situation, before you got yourself in too deep. Too late now!’
‘Aye, did I no’ tell you the selfsame thing?’ Tilly asked, turning to Lorna. ‘Och, I thought you’d have had more sense, eh?’
As for Flo and George, they tried to appear pleased about the engagement, but made it plain, all the same, that they believed Lorna to have been foolish, leaving it so late to explain Sam to Josh.
‘He’s a formal sort of guy,’ George muttered. ‘Lives in the past, expects everybody to live by the rule book. Comes from his mother’s influence, eh?’
‘Flo, you said once he’d understand!’ Lorna cried. ‘Now you say he won’t?’
‘Because, maybe, you’ve left it too late.’ Flo’s look softened as she took in Lorna’s pale, strained face. ‘But, then, I could be wrong. I hope I am.’
Only one person gave her comfort at this time, and he was someone she felt guilty about, anyway.
‘Oh, Ewen,’ she murmured, when she met him by chance one lunch time at the tram stop near her mother’s. ‘I feel so bad, I haven’t seen you for so long. I don’t know what you’ll think of me.’
‘It’s all right,’ Ewen told her, looking down at her with a compassionate gaze. ‘I know you’ve got your problems.’
‘You do? Has Ma been talking to you?’
‘Aye, I’ve seen her once or twice. Said you’d a new admirer who was very keen, but she didn’t know how things would go. Somebody in your dad’s band, I believe she said.’
‘He’s a saxophone player, like me. Used to have the chair next to mine in Luke Riddell’s band, then he moved to Jackie’s.’
‘And very good looking, I heard.’
‘Yes, he’s handsome.’ Lorna looked down at her hands clutching her bag and heard her voice cracking with emotion. ‘Oh, Ewen, I’m so worried, I don’t know where to turn.’
‘Come and have a drink,’ he said kindly. ‘There’s a wee hotel in Shandwick Place where it’s nice and quiet and you can tell me what’s wrong.’
‘As though you couldn’t guess,’ she said miserably, taking his arm with some relief when they walked from the tram stop.
‘I suppose it’s Sam who’s the worry, is it?’ Ewen asked, when they had settled into the lounge bar of the small hotel, he with a beer, she with a gin and tonic. (Not too much gin, she had insisted, she had a rehearsal that afternoon.)
‘Yes, it’s Sam.’ She raised her eyes to Ewen’s. ‘I’m no’ ashamed of him, Ewen. I love him dearly. But – well, you can imagine the situation.’
‘Aye. Another fellow’s son.’
‘And Josh knows who he is – the father, I mean. Everyone says I should have been open about things from the beginning, but I was just too afraid. Couldn’t bring myself to say anything. And now, he’s asked me to marry him, and I’m going to have to tell him about Sam. But I don’t know how.’
‘Poor lassie,’ Ewen murmured. ‘It’ll be hard, but maybe he’ll understand.’
‘People say it’s too much to ask of him.’
‘He might surprise you.’
‘Think so?’ For a moment, her eyes shone, but the light soon faded. ‘I know you always said I shouldn’t have kept Sam a secret, anyhow.’
‘That’s true. My advice is still to tell folk, no’ just your young man. At least, the girls in the band. Be proud of the little lad, Lorna. It isn’t his fault that he has no dad.’ Ewen drained his glass. ‘Maybe he will have, though.’ He leaned forward to take Lorna’s hand. ‘Tell the chap soon, eh? Whatever happens, you’ll feel better. It’s tearing you to pieces at the minute, not knowing what he’ll say.’
‘You’re right,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m seeing him tomorrow. That will be the time.’
Back at the tram stop, she reached up to kiss Ewen’s cheek. ‘I’ll let you know how I get on.’
‘And I’ll be thinking of you. Good luck.’
‘Thanks, Ewen, thanks for everything.’
It helped – it was always a help – for Lorna to be lost in her music, and conducting the rehearsal that afternoon, going through her arrangements, keeping up with the chatter and jokes from the girls, relieved her anxiety for at least a little while. And, of course, apart from Flo and George, no one had any idea of what she was concealing. Or, so she thought.
At the end of the rehearsal, however, she was surprised to find Claire Maxwell at her elbow, asking if she could have a word.
‘Why, of course, Claire – come into the office.’
Claire took a seat facing Lorna’s desk and fixed her with her usual expressionless gaze. She was, however, Lorna thought, looking more attractive than usual, with a better haircut and some carefully applied make-up, almost as though she’d made a special effort for this meeting.
‘What can I do for you, then?’ Lorna asked pleasantly.
‘I was thinking that you might pay me more,’ Claire replied without hesitation. ‘It’s really time
I had a rise.’
‘We’ll be reviewing salaries in the new year. That’s our usual practice.’
‘Quite a long way off, the new year.’ Claire examined her nails. ‘I think it might be worth your while to consider me a special case.’
Lorna’s heart was beginning to beat fast, but she made no sign of losing her calm. ‘Why would that be, Claire?’
‘Well, I get the impression that you and Josh Niven are very close these days. Perhaps planning to make a go of it? I don’t think he’d be too pleased to hear about that lovely little boy of yours, would he?’
The colour leaving her face, Lorna snatched up a pencil and rolled it rapidly between her fingers. ‘How do you know about my little boy?’ she asked, breathing hard.
‘I followed you one day.’
‘Followed me? Why? Why should you do such a thing?’
‘Because I always had my suspicions that you had some sort of secret. You never brought your mother here, you never said where she lived.’ Claire smiled. ‘I asked myself, what could Lorna be hiding? And one day I found out.’
‘That’s despicable!’ Lorna cried. ‘To follow me, spy on me!’
‘I’ve never pretended to be a nice person, have I? Anyway, all I wanted was to see what you were covering up, and when I saw you walking with your little laddie, I knew. Lorna, he’s so sweet. Anybody’d fall for him. Except maybe Josh.’
‘How much do you want?’ Lorna asked, after a pause.
‘Oh, just a few pounds extra. Say five a week. I don’t want to be greedy.’
‘I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you that Josh might know already?’
Claire smiled again. ‘He doesn’t know. If he did, he wouldn’t still be around you. He’s not the type to forgive, is he?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’
‘Oh, come on. If you’ve got a child, you’ve been with some other guy, right? That’s what’ll upset Josh. He won’t want to think of it.’
Lorna stood up and walked to the door. ‘Will you leave my office, please? I have nothing more to say to you.’