A Silver Lining

by Anne Douglas

  ‘Have to see what Mr Whyte thinks.’

  ‘That’s right. Arthur will sort it out. I mean, there’s a slump on at the moment. Who’s going to pay for elaborate cakes at a time like this?’

  ‘I would!’ cried Audrey, a redhead with a mind of her own. ‘If Mr Linden was making ’em, eh?’

  ‘Now, now, Audrey, let’s no’ hear too much of your opinions, eh?’ snapped Mrs Arrow. ‘I see a customer at table four looking round for service.’

  ‘I’ll go for my lunch,’ said Jinny, escaping to the little room at the back and thinking ruefully that Mabel had been right – the girls at Comrie’s would certainly be ‘after’ Viktor Linden. She’d not be joining in, then. No, indeed. And opening a copy of The Scotsman someone had left on the table, Jinny carefully studied the news, which wasn’t too good, as it happened. There was no let-up in the depression yet. Japanese troops in their war against China had captured Shanghai. Someone in an article forecast war with Germany the following year.

  Oh, dear. She put the paper aside. As soon as she’d finished her lunch she’d go round the shops and do a bit of Christmas shopping. That would cheer her up.

  After a very routine afternoon she was glad to be going home. There was no doubt that, whatever she’d decided about putting the young Viennese man from her mind, she’d been disappointed not to have seen him again on his first day. It seemed like he’d been caught up at the bakery meeting the men who made the loaves and rolls and the two girls, Norah and Trixie, who decorated the ‘fancies’ and iced the Christmas and wedding cakes. Of course, the bakery would be where he’d be spending most of his time, especially if he was going to be making his own cakes; over here in Accounts she probably wouldn’t see him at all. But then, there was a bit of a question mark over his making cakes, wasn’t there?

  ‘I suppose Mr Whyte will have to OK any baking from Mr Linden, won’t he?’ she asked Ross as she put on her coat. ‘Mrs Arrow’s worried that we can’t afford his sort of elaborate cakes.’

  ‘Old groaner, Mrs Arrow,’ Ross answered with a grin. ‘She’s one for doing what we’ve always done. Madeira, Ginger, Sultana, Seed Cake, Swiss Roll – those are our staples. Anything a bit different doesn’t get a look in.’

  ‘Yes, but what will Mr Whyte say?’

  ‘You mean, what will Mr Comrie say? He’s all for letting his nephew show what he can do, and he has the last word. No need to worry about Viktor Linden’s baking, Jinny.’

  ‘I’m not worrying!’ she cried, at which he smiled.

  ‘Of course not. Why should you?’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she called. ‘I’m away for my tram. Are you coming?’

  ‘Got some things I want to clear up. Goodnight, Jinny. See you tomorrow.’

  It’s Vi’s turn to cook tonight, thought Jinny, turning into Fingal Street, which meant they’d be having fish. They usually did when Vi cooked – easiest and quickest to do, she always said, and she was always short of time. There was her studying to fit in – she’d joined an evening class on politics – or she had to go to a Labour meeting, or do some canvassing if there was a local election coming. That trip out to the cinema the other evening with Jinny and May had been unusual for her, though she’d certainly enjoyed it.

  Thinking of May, there she was, standing in the lamplight, talking to Allan Forth. At once, Jinny halted. They were standing so close together, so obviously enjoying their meeting that it seemed a shame to interrupt them.

  ‘I was wondering, May,’ Allan was saying, his eyes never leaving her face, ‘if you’d care to come to the pictures with me one night this week? There’s a good film on, Lost Horizon with Ronald Colman.’

  ‘Oh, Allan, that would be lovely!’ May hesitated. ‘The thing is—’

  ‘What?’ he asked quickly.

  ‘Well – no, it’s all right, I’d like to go, Allan. What night were you thinking of?’

  ‘Any night, May. Any that would suit you.’

  ‘Wednesday?’

  ‘Perfect. I’ll come round for you at about half past six, shall I?’

  ‘Half past six would be grand. Oh, here comes Jinny!’ May’s keen eyes had spotted her sister now approaching slowly up the street, and at once had stepped back from Allan at the same time as he moved away from her.

  ‘Hello, Jinny!’ Allan cried. ‘Had a good day?’

  ‘Oh, yes, you had the new man starting today, didn’t you?’ asked May, talking a little fast. ‘What’s he like, then?’

  ‘All right. Speaks good English.’ To Allan, Jinny added, ‘He’s Viennese.’

  ‘Really? I’ve heard those Austrians make nice cakes.’ Allan was pushing his bike away. ‘Goodnight, then. May, I’ll see you Wednesday, if not before.’

  ‘Lovely. Goodnight, Allan.’

  Not looking at Jinny, May hurried along to the side door to the flat, but Jinny was close behind.

  ‘Wednesday?’ she repeated.

  ‘We’re going to the pictures,’ said May, and went up the inner steps so quickly Jinny couldn’t catch her.

  Six

  ‘The pictures?’ cried Jinny at the door of the living room. ‘You and Allan?’

  May swung round, shaking her head. ‘Ssh! Dad’ll be home and I don’t want to tell him yet.’

  ‘You’ll have to tell him sometime, May. Best get it over with.’

  ‘He’ll be in a mood right through tea.’

  ‘Yes, but then he’ll accept it – what else can he do?’ Jinny smiled. ‘You’re over twenty-one, eh?’

  May sighed. ‘All right, I’ll tell him now.’

  At the sisters’ entrance Josh looked up from his evening paper, his face brightening.

  ‘Hello, you two, you’re back! Had a good day?’

  ‘Same as usual,’ May answered, moving towards the kitchen. ‘Is that fish I smell?’

  ‘Spot on,’ cried Vi, appearing red-faced, a fish slice in her hands. ‘Frying tonight – how did you guess?’

  ‘Just genius,’ said Jinny. ‘And the fact that you usually do fish for us when it’s your turn to cook.’

  ‘Aye, but this time I’ve done chips as well. And they’re all ready, so you’d better sit down. Dad, did you hear that?’

  ‘We’ll just wash our hands,’ said May, sending a look of apprehension to Jinny, who mouthed, Go on, tell him!

  But when they sat down to Vi’s speciality, which was perfectly cooked, for if she only did one thing she at least did it well, it was clear that May was biding her time to speak to her father, and talk centred on the new man at Comrie’s.

  ‘So, Jinny, what’s the German like, then?’ Vi asked as she buttered some bread. ‘Wasn’t he starting today?’

  ‘Yes, he started today, but he’s Austrian, not German.’

  ‘Same difference.’

  ‘No, Austrians are not like Germans.’

  ‘If we go to war with ’em, they’ll be the same, all right.’

  ‘Who says we’re going to war?’

  ‘Why the papers are full of this chap Hitler wanting to start a war with everybody. And he was born in Austria, too, so there you are.’

  ‘I’ll never believe that we’ll go to war with Germany again!’ Josh cried. ‘We’d enough o’ that last time. Was it all for nothing, then?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Dad,’ May said quickly. ‘The government won’t let it happen. It’s all just talk. Jinny, tell us about this new chap. Do you like him?’

  ‘He’s all right,’ Jinny answered cagily. ‘Very polite.’

  ‘And nice looking?’

  ‘Well, yes, fair, you know, and tall. But we didn’t see much of him in Accounts – he was away to the bakery.’

  ‘He’s going to make some Austrian cakes?’ asked Vi. ‘A bit different to Comrie’s Seed Cake and Madeira, eh?’

  ‘I expect so.’ Jinny, to hide her unwillingness to talk, leaped up to clear away their plates and, when they’d all had the remains of yesterday’s apple tart, looked meaningfully across to May, who said she’d make the
tea.

  ‘Think she seems bit strange tonight?’ asked Josh, moving to his fireside chair as May went into the kitchen ‘As though she’s got something on her mind?’

  Jinny, looking down, said nothing.

  ‘Seems just as usual to me,’ Vi answered. ‘May doesn’t usually have things on her mind.’

  ‘My imagination, then,’ said Josh.

  ‘Must be.’

  No one said anything more until May, rather flushed, brought in the tea.

  ‘Everything all right, pet?’ asked Josh, taking his cup. ‘I was saying you seemed a bit – what’s the word? Preoccupied.’

  ‘Me?’ May’s gaze on him was limpid. ‘No, I wouldn’t say so. Though I have got a bit o’ news. Allan Forth’s asked me to go to the pictures with him. On Wednesday.’

  A silence fell, enfolding Josh and his girls in a curtain so thick only Vi was brave enough to speak through it.

  ‘What are you going to see?’ she asked May lightly, though her dark gaze was on her father.

  ‘Lost Horizon,’ answered May.

  ‘Why, you’ve seen that!’

  ‘So? I suppose I can see it again. It’s very good.’

  ‘Very good,’ agreed Jinny.

  ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute!’ cried Josh, setting down his cup with a crash. ‘What’s all this about you seeing Allan Forth, May? He’s our landlord, for God’s sake, and years older than you!’

  ‘Five,’ she said quietly.

  ‘But what’s he got to do with you? We don’t know him like we knew his father.’

  ‘He’s had tea with us, Dad,’ Jinny put in quickly. ‘He’s a friend, he isn’t just our landlord, and we all know he’s been sweet on May for ages – don’t know why he’s taken so long to ask her out.’

  ‘Sweet on May?’ Josh rose from his chair. ‘I don’t want him to be sweet on May! He’s the wrong type for her, there’s nothing to him, canna say boo to a goose – she deserves better than that!’

  ‘What do you mean – I deserve better?’ cried May with sudden passion. ‘We’re going to the pictures together that’s all. And didn’t you say the other evening that he was a nice lad? Has he stopped being nice because he’s asked me out?’

  ‘I want you to know I don’t approve of you seeing him,’ Josh said, pushing aside his chair and snatching his jacket from the back of the door. ‘If you want to see him, I canna stop you – you’re over twenty-one—’

  ‘Certainly am!’ said May.

  ‘But I’m never going to say I’m happy about it – I never will be, and that’s that. Now, I’m going back to work.’

  Slamming the door behind him he went out, leaving the girls to sigh deeply and exchange hopeless looks.

  ‘I suppose he doesn’t want to think you might leave him, May,’ Jinny said at last.

  ‘It’s only because he’s lost Ma,’ May declared. ‘He’s come to rely on us to fill her place.’

  ‘He got very upset when I went out with Iain Baxter, that one I went to school with.’

  ‘Gets upset about anyone,’ said Vi. ‘You’re just going to have to take a firm hand with him, May. Now, I’d better get off to my politics class or I’ll be late.’

  ‘So we do the washing up?’ asked Jinny. ‘Och, nae bother, we don’t mind, do we, May?’

  ‘As long as Vi does it on Wednesday. Thing is, though, I’d just like to say that none of us is thinking of getting married, so Dad can stop going off like a rocket, eh?’

  ‘Try telling him that,’ Jinny laughed as they began to pile up the dishes, ‘when you go out with Allan.’

  ‘One trip to the cinema doesn’t mean much.’

  ‘It’s a start.’

  Seven

  Wednesday, the day May and Allan were to go out, was when Jinny met the Viennese man again, though afterwards she rather wished she hadn’t. Not because of anything he’d said or done – quite the reverse. It came about when Arthur Whyte, the bakery manager, brought Viktor across to Ross’s office to sit in on one of the regular meetings on costings and sales. Seemed that Mr Comrie had expressed a wish for his nephew to get some idea of how expenditure and profit were monitored in a Scottish bakery, so that he could compare the system with the one at home, and Viktor, arriving with Mr Whyte, was interested. He still found time, before greeting Ross, to give Jinny a smile which she hastily, if a little shyly, returned.

  ‘All going well, Mr Linden?’ asked Ross, offering Viktor a chair. ‘You getting to know the bakery?’

  The Viennese inclined his head. ‘Please, call me Viktor. Yes, thank you, I am enjoying my time there. Everyone is being so kind.’

  ‘He is already planning to begin some baking of his own,’ remarked Arthur Whyte, a chunky figure in his late forties, grey-haired and pleasant enough but best known for his keenness to save money. His smile now was cautious. ‘Have to see how that goes, eh?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Viktor returned politely. ‘But I believe my uncle would like me to make some of our Torten, as we call cakes, out of interest, perhaps?’

  ‘Oh, yes, certainly, we’ll be very interested,’ Ross said agreeably. ‘I know something of Austrian baking, Viktor, and I am a great fan. Jinny, will you pass me the stock book? Then we’ll make a start.’

  It was not usual for Jinny to sit in on the costings meetings, although Ross had instructed her on what was involved, and she now took her place at her own desk, her eyes on her work – until they just managed to light on Viktor sitting at a distance.

  Yes, there was no doubt about it, she decided, observing him at her leisure. He was very attractive. She saw the way his blond hair seemed to fit his finely shaped head, and how he held himself so elegantly, his shoulders flat, his slim neck showing his youth. Maybe, after all, it was his looks and not just being Viennese that made him seem so different from the few young men she’d gone out with in the past? She was pleasantly dwelling on this question when, to her horror, he suddenly turned his head and their eyes met. He had caught her watching him.

  A great rush of colour flooded her face from her pointed chin to the top of her brow, but she could not seem to detach her gaze from his and kept on looking as he returned her look and then gently smiled. Oh, God, what must he be thinking? She couldn’t smile back, couldn’t pretend she wasn’t embarrassed, and even when she’d dragged her gaze away and was bending her head over her work, all she felt was the embarrassment and the painful flush staining her face that Viktor must have seen.

  Even though she was staring down at a column of figures, she was aware that he had turned his attention back to the meeting where Mr Whyte was going on about … something to do with Swiss Rolls not selling well that week and should they cut down on numbers for a while? Better than losing money having to sell them off at reduced prices, eh?

  How many Swiss Rolls did they need? Mr Comrie was asking, and Jinny sighed. Heavens, who cared? Usually she was interested in snippets of information she heard from the meetings, but just then she felt she’d rather be elsewhere. Anywhere, in fact.

  Of course, she had to face Viktor when the meeting was over. Smile politely, as though she’d never been caught staring at him; wish him all the best with his cake making while he bowed and thanked her, giving no sign that there was anything between them. Well, there wasn’t, except that she’d been caught gazing at him and could have kicked herself for being such a fool.

  When Mr Whyte called from the door that they’d better be getting back to the bakery, Viktor buttoned on his overcoat, turned to thank Ross for allowing him to sit in on the meeting and, with a last look at Jinny, left Accounts without another word. Was that all then? Her heart weighing her down, Jinny returned to her desk, feeling so crushed she didn’t even remember it was her lunch hour until Ross reminded her.

  ‘Hey, shouldn’t you be gone?’ he asked easily. ‘Not so carried away by the sight of our leutnant that you’ve forgotten to eat, I hope?’

  ‘Oh, what a piece of nonsense!’ she flared, then lowered her eyes and muttered an a
pology.

  ‘Sorry, Ross – shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.’

  ‘Not at all, I shouldn’t have teased you, it never goes down well. All right now?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll get off to lunch, then.’

  But still she lingered a moment. ‘Meeting go well, Ross? Did Mr Linden enjoy it?’

  ‘Seemed to. Asked some intelligent questions – maybe you heard?’

  ‘No, I didn’t hear.’

  ‘Well, he certainly seems a bright lad. And, by the way, he’s asked us to call him Viktor. Anxious to mix in, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Jinny glanced at the clock. ‘I’d better run, then.’

  ‘Take your time. I don’t mind when I go to lunch.’

  ‘I’ll be back at one.’

  Not caring to read Ross’s expression, for it seemed to her that he knew she was upset, Jinny quickly left Accounts and made her way to the bakery shop downstairs, took her usual rolls and added a cup of tea from the tea shop. After the familiar chat with the girls she was glad to find herself alone in the back room, where she could desolately eat her rolls and think about how silly she’d been.

  Gradually, though, she began to feel better. So he’d caught her studying him. What of it? She sipped her tea. A cat could look at a king, the saying went, and he needn’t have found her gaze anything remarkable. He was new; he would expect to be a focus of interest. No need to worry, then.

  But she had no sooner cheered herself up than she remembered Viktor’s intense blue eyes.

  ‘Did you ever see such blue eyes?’ Mabel had asked. ‘Like sailor’s eyes, I’d say …’

  Long-sighted sailor’s eyes, then, that could have seen even from a distance that Jinny was looking at him because she was attracted to him. As, of course, she was. Attracted. She hadn’t really admitted it to herself till then. More than attracted? Maybe. She’d heard about people falling in love at first sight. Was this what it meant? To have this line drawn between yourself and someone you’d just met? To want that person to feel the same?