by Anne Douglas
‘No, no, we’ve got peace in our time,’ Edna Angus told her. ‘Is that no’ right, Mr Hawthorne?’
‘Sure it is, Edna!’ he answered robustly. ‘We’ll all hang on to that. Merry Christmas, everybody! Just the evening performance to go now, then you get your day off.’
‘See you tomorrow?’ Rusty whispered to Jess, and she smiled and nodded, determined not to spoil her good intentions of giving him a pleasant Christmas by wishing Ben might have been there too.
Fourteen
The Raeburns didn’t have turkey for Christmas dinner – too big, too dear – but Addie roasted a splendid piece of pork with the sort of crackling Rusty sighed over with such pleasure, the women at the table couldn’t help laughing.
Afterwards, there was a rich plum pudding – the same, Addie told them, as she’d made for her ladies at the club. ‘Though of course they had to have it early,’ she added. ‘Seeing as we close down for the Christmas holidays.’
‘So, what do the ladies do then?’ Rusty asked.
‘Och, we’ve very few who stay and they move out somewhere. The others have all got homes – just like to get out of ’em, the way their husbands do, at the New Club and such.’ Addie laughed. ‘And why not, eh? They come in, read the papers, have a chat and a nice meal – puts the time in for ’em. They’ve no jobs, of course.’
‘I’d die of boredom without a job,’ Jess declared. ‘I’m glad I wouldn’t have to give up work if ever I got married, like teachers and civil servants have to do. I think that’s so unfair.’
‘The best thing for me about getting married would be giving up work,’ Marguerite said with a smile. ‘Reading the papers, having a chat and a nice meal – what could be better?’
‘What a shame you’ve to start work at the cafe next week, then,’ Jess commented. ‘Might get a nice meal, but you’ll be too busy to read the papers.’
‘Might meet my husband, eh?’
‘Might indeed,’ Rusty remarked, resting his gaze on Marguerite’s lovely face, at which Jess leaped up and said they should clear away and go out for a walk while it was still light.
‘Well, no’ to the Shore,’ Addie protested. ‘I like the Links.’
‘All right, as you did all the cooking, Ma, we’ll do what you want and go to the Links,’ Jess told her. ‘Rusty, I’ll give you another history lesson. Plenty of history about the Links.’
Although the wide spaces of the Links were now mainly devoted to parkland where folk could stroll or play football or cricket, long ago, as Jess described to Rusty, they’d been the scenes of many different activities. Fighting the English for one. Inventing golf for another, for in the eighteenth century, a company of Edinburgh golfers had there played the first competition golf in the world. Aye, and worked out the rules of the game even before the famous Royal and Ancient club in St Andrews. Now had Rusty known that?
‘No,’ he answered, smiling, as Addie and Marguerite walked ahead, well wrapped up against the wind and the chill. ‘I don’t know one thing about any of this. How come, if you’re not a Leither, you know so much?’
‘I like to find out about places, and Leith is my place now.’ She took his arm in hers. ‘Listen, I’m so glad you came today, Rusty. And Ma was thrilled having another one to cook for.’
‘It’s been one of my best Christmases,’ he said seriously. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Your mother made me so welcome – your sister, too.’
He hesitated, his eyes still on the two women walking ahead. ‘Jess, mind if I tell you something?’
‘Depends what it is.’
‘It’s a compliment. To you.’
‘With those two around?’
‘Specially with them. They’re just as you said – lovely looking women. But, Jess, so are you. Lovely, and different.’
‘Different, aye, that’s true.’
‘No, hear me out. You keep comparing yourself with your mother and sister, but you’ve got something else – a real warmth, a real interest in everything. You’re the sort of person folk want to be with.’
‘Oh, come on . . .’
‘No, I mean it. And look, I’m not saying your mother’s not sympathetic or warm-hearted. I can see she’s really kind and friendly – look how she welcomed me today – but you have this gift of relating to people and places, which I think is . . . well, more important than . . . anything.’
‘You were going to say looks, weren’t you?’
‘No! Why won’t you believe me? You’re just as nice looking as your folks.’
‘Just different.’
As Jess’s laughter floated away on the wind, Rusty groaned and shook his head.
‘Ah, you’re hopeless, Jess! You don’t listen to a word I say.’
‘Let’s call the others and go back now. I could do with a cup of tea and a piece of Ma’s Christmas cake.’
When evening came and Rusty had thanked Addie again for his truly grand day and she’d thanked him for the flowers he’d brought, Jess went with him to the station. There was such a pleasant affinity between them by then, she was truly glad she’d invited him to her home and was quite sorry to see him go. Also surprised, perhaps, that he didn’t ask if they might meet again outside work, but in a way relieved. Best not to get too involved again.
After his train came in and they’d kissed briefly on the platform, she waved him away and walked slowly back to the flat, her thoughts turning to Ben. What sort of a Christmas Day had he had, she wondered, and began to feel a deliciously warm anticipation of seeing him again, when they opened up the cinema for Boxing Day.
Fifteen
Two days after Hogmanay, Marguerite began her new job at the cinema cafe.
‘I’ll pop in to see you before the matinee,’ Jess told her, as her sister prepared to leave the flat that morning. ‘Just to see how you’re getting on.’
‘Thanks, but there’s no need for that. I have done some waiting on before, you know.’
‘Oh, sure, but first days are difficult, eh? And I could show you round and introduce you to folk.’
‘Honestly, Jess, anyone’d think you were in charge!’
‘That’s Jess for you,’ Addie put in, nodding sagely as she buttoned up her heavy winter coat. ‘She’ll end up running something or other, mark my words. Marguerite, good luck, pet. Not that you need it, eh? You’re another that knows what she’s doing. Why’ve I got such clever daughters?’
‘Because you’re clever yourself, Ma,’ Jess responded. ‘Look out for me, Marguerite – and take care on the black ice.’
‘Oh, stop your fussing!’ her sister cried, laughing, though a little irritated. ‘It’s no great thing, is it? Starting work at the Princes.’
‘It was for me,’ said Jess.
Clearly, Marguerite was different from her, for when Jess entered the cafe later, no one could have seemed more composed than her sister on her first day, as she moved tranquilly around, setting out cutlery and glasses for the lunch tables. And, of course, looking delightful, in a slim-fitting black dress with a little band of muslin pinned to her shining hair and a matching frilly apron that might have come straight from a musical comedy.
It was no wonder, Jess thought, sighing, that the brows of the watching waitresses – Pam, Ruthie and Kate – were somewhat furrowed, while Mrs Baxter’s was so beautifully clear, no doubt because she was already regarding Marguerite as an asset she’d been lucky enough to catch. In fact, she said as much to Jess as she gave her a coffee at the counter.
‘Come to see your sister, dear? Heavens, she’s a find, eh? The Galleon’s loss is our gain, and no mistake.’
‘I don’t see why she’s so wonderful,’ Pam murmured. ‘No offence, Jess, but what can she do that the rest of us can’t?’
‘I suppose she is very experienced,’ Ruthie, bright-eyed and dark-haired, remarked. ‘I mean, there she is, setting the tables and we’re no’ even helping.’
‘Should be experienced,’ Kate, a very young redhead, said tartly. �
��Why, she’s years older than us!’
‘Ssh, now,’ Mrs Baxter said sharply. ‘Jess doesn’t want to hear you discussing her sister like that. And it’s time you others were helping her, anyway!’
‘It’s all right, Mrs Baxter,’ Pam retorted. ‘She’s finished.’
‘Why, Jess, there you are,’ Marguerite said with a smile, as she came swaying up to the counter. ‘Come to check up on me?’
‘That’d hardly be my job,’ Jess returned swiftly. ‘Mrs Baxter here’s the one for that.’
‘I’ve already said that she’s doing very well,’ Mrs Baxter said firmly. ‘We’ve had a very good training session here this morning and Marguerite’s picked it all up in a flash, no trouble at all. Now we’re ready for the lunches, but I’ll just go and check in the kitchen with Maisie.’
‘All right if I show Marguerite round the cinema?’ Jess asked. ‘Introduce her to people?’
‘Oh, yes, there’ll be time for that before we open. Girls, Jess is going to show Marguerite around. You carry on, all right?’
‘All right, Mrs Baxter,’ the waitresses chorused, as the manageress left them, while Marguerite looked at Jess.
‘Will I be OK in my apron? Looks a bit silly, eh? We’d nothing like it at the Galleon.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Jess was beginning, when the swing door of the cafe opened, and her colour changed. It was Ben who was coming through, smiling at her in his usual way and waving a hand to the waitresses who were waving back.
‘Look who’s here!’ called Pam. ‘Want a coffee, Ben?’
‘Feeling frail then, Ben, after Hogmanay?’ Ruthie asked cheekily.
‘Better have it black, eh?’ Kate suggested.
He laughed. ‘No coffee. At least, not yet. I’m treating myself to lunch today, so don’t forget the discount.’
He was still laughing as his eyes moved from Jess to Marguerite, who’d been standing quietly to one side, listening to the badinage, but then his laughter died.
‘Ben, this is my sister,’ Jess said quickly. ‘Taking over from Nancy, you remember? Marguerite, this is Ben Daniel, the head projectionist.’
‘Rusty’s boss?’ Marguerite asked, putting out her hand, which, after a moment’s hesitation, Ben took and held.
‘You’ve met Rusty, then?’ he asked, clearing his throat.
‘Jess asked him over for Christmas.’
‘Very nice.’
‘He’d nowhere to go,’ Jess put in, her eyes glued to her sister’s hand still clasped in Ben’s.
And then she half closed her eyes as Ben finally let Marguerite’s hand go, and the question came into her mind that was to echo and keep on echoing: What have I done?
What had she done? She’d told her sister about the vacancy at the cafe. She’d opened a door she hadn’t even thought about, and Marguerite had gone through and met Ben. Or he’d met her, for it was plain to see that interest was flowing from him in a great rushing tide, while Marguerite was as composed as before, standing, watching, as still and beautiful as an expensive flower.
A silence had fallen on the cafe, with the waitresses watching too, and seeing all too well what was happening, even if Marguerite seemed quite unaware. But then she’d had a lot of practice in acting out this part, thought Jess, who knew that she must put on an act herself, must at all costs conceal the anxiety that was rising within her.
‘Ben, I was just going to show my sister round the cinema,’ she said huskily. ‘Will you excuse us?’
‘Round the cinema?’ he repeated, gradually regaining his own composure, though his deeply set dark eyes never left Marguerite’s face. ‘Why I could do that, Jess. Be glad to, in fact. Your sister might like to see the projection room.’
‘But you’re going to have lunch, aren’t you? You’ll no’ have time to show her round.’
‘I’m not worried about lunch.’ He smiled briefly. ‘I’ve eaten too much over Hogmanay, anyway.’
‘Please don’t trouble yourself, Mr Daniel, Jess will show me round,’ Marguerite said quietly.
He hesitated, finally standing aside to let her pass with Jess. ‘OK, fine. We’ll leave it like that. But it was nice to meet you, Miss Raeburn. Do hope you’ll be very happy here.’
‘Thank you.’ She turned to smile. ‘And my name’s Marguerite.’
‘Marguerite,’ he repeated softly. ‘Please call me Ben.’
‘Wait here a second, will you, Jess?’ Marguerite murmured, as she and Jess progressed through the foyer. ‘I think I will take off this apron – the cap as well, if you can call it a cap.’
‘What did you think of Rusty’s boss, then?’ Jess couldn’t resist asking, as her eyes went unseeingly over the portraits of the stars lining the walls.
‘Very nice chap. Charming, in fact.’
‘Some folk think he’s good looking.’
‘Oh, he is. Tall, dark and handsome, I’d say. Reminds me of somebody.’ Marguerite put her apron and cap over her arm and smoothed her hair. ‘Some actor, I think.’
‘Which actor?’
‘Laurence Olivier? Could be him. When’s his new film coming, Jess? Wuthering Heights – I’d really like to see that.’
‘No’ before the spring.’
Jess, marvelling at her own ability to appear just as usual before her sister, opened the door to the little staffroom where two of the usherettes were having a cup of tea before opening time. ‘Girls, this is my sister, come to work at the cafe. Marguerite, meet Renie and Faith.’
So far, so good. But, as the young women exchanged smiles and chatted, Jess’s mind was wandering. Maybe she’d got it wrong. Seen something that wasn’t there? Ben had certainly been struck by her sister’s looks, but then so many men were and it didn’t always mean that they’d fallen in love, did it? Surely, it was too soon to believe that Ben had fallen for Marguerite, just like that?
All right, it happened. Love at first sight. ‘Needn’t take long, to know what you feel,’ Sally had once remarked, and it might be that what Ben was feeling was written all over his face. Or maybe not. Why should Jess make herself miserable when she didn’t really know the truth of the matter?
Her spirits rising, she took her sister’s arm and said they’d better continue their little tour; she’d to prepare for the matinee and Marguerite had to return to the Princes cafe, to serve lunches for the first time.
‘Lovely to meet you!’ cried Renie, as they went on their way.
‘And you!’ Marguerite called, and Jess glancing at her, couldn’t help envying her ease of manner, her peace of mind. For though Jess had managed for a little while to look on the bright side, now the tide of anxiety was rising again and as she continued to show her sister around, she couldn’t forget the look on Ben’s face when she’d first introduced Marguerite.
After Trevor Duffy, Fred Boyle and Edie Harrison had all met the new waitress, and there’d been smiles and chat and admiring stares, even Mr Hawthorne came out of his office to shake Marguerite’s hand and wish her all the best in her new job.
‘Grand to have another Miss Raeburn at the Princes,’ he told her. ‘Don’t know if you know it, but your sister’s a treasure.’
‘Oh, I know it, Mr Hawthorne,’ Marguerite said with a smile. ‘I’ll just have to do what I can to live up to her.’
‘We’d better go,’ Jess said uncomfortably. ‘Time’s getting on.’
‘Now, when have you ever been late for anything?’ the manager asked cheerfully. ‘But we’ll let you go. All the best again, Marguerite – hope we may call you that?’
‘Please do,’ she said, with a serene smile, while to the watching Jess, it seemed incredible that her sister seemed to be paying as much attention to Mr Hawthorne as to Ben Daniel. Was she really not interested in him, then? Perhaps that in itself might be hopeful? That Ben, whatever his feelings, might get nowhere?
Oh, but what good would that do Jess? As she opened up the box office and prepared to greet the first picture-goers of the afternoon, she saw, clear
-sightedly enough, that it would do her no good at all. Why would he turn to her, because her sister had turned him down? Love wasn’t something you could just shunt around from one person to another, was it?
If it were, though? If by any chance Ben’s love, unwanted by Marguerite, did come her way – would she take it?
Oh, yes, sighed Jess, giving a man his tickets for The Adventures of Robin Hood, which had been retained for another week by popular demand. But then she turned for comfort to her earlier hope, that Ben might not be as attracted to her sister as she feared.
And that got her through the rest of the day, and even most of the night.
Sixteen
For the next few days, Jess watched like a hawk to see if Ben hung around the cafe, or if Marguerite went up to the projection room. Nothing happened. Ben was not seen around the cafe, Marguerite paid no visits to the projection room. As far as Jess could tell, the two of them had not met since they’d shaken hands on Marguerite’s first day at the Princes.
What a relief! But, of course, Jess couldn’t relax her vigilance. At any time, things could change. Sometimes, she wondered if it might help to discuss the matter with Rusty, but the idea had no sooner come into her mind than she dismissed it. Of course she couldn’t discuss Ben with Rusty! He’d be far too hurt. Even when she did ask casually if Ben had given Marguerite his little talk on film projection, it had been enough for Rusty to raise his eyebrows and wonder why she was interested.
‘Oh, no reason,’ she’d answered swiftly. ‘Only he does like to do that talk for new staff.’
‘Not waitresses,’ Rusty had declared. ‘They’d hardly need to know the workings of the cinema. But wouldn’t Marguerite have mentioned it, anyway?’
‘Maybe not,’ Jess replied, wondering – why wouldn’t she? Unless it had meant something.
Though seeming her usual keen and efficient self to most people, Jess wasn’t altogether surprised when sharp-eyed Sally asked her once when they were on duty together if everything was all right.
‘How d’you mean?’ Jess asked, playing for time.