A Silver Lining

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A Silver Lining Page 7

by Anne Douglas


  ‘Lovely for me, too.’ He held the hand she had given him. ‘It has made me feel better – to be with you.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do now, with your free afternoon?’

  ‘I don’t know. Sightseeing, maybe, though the weather is not good.’

  ‘You must be so tired after all you did yesterday – why don’t you just have a rest?

  ‘Rest? I never rest.’ He laughed. ‘But I almost had help yesterday, you know.’

  ‘Help? With your baking?’

  ‘With the decoration. Senga asked if I’d like her to come in.’

  ‘Senga!’ Jinny’s dark eyes flashed. ‘What was she thinking of?’

  ‘Well, she said she’d a lot to learn, and if she could work with me it would be a great help to her.’

  ‘I’ll bet! Viktor, you didn’t let her come, did you?’

  ‘No, no, I never want anyone around when I have work to do. Especially not someone who needs training.’

  ‘So, you said no. Quite right, too.’

  Watching her face with its obvious look of relief, Viktor made no comment, but as he released her hand he fixed her with an intense gaze.

  ‘Jinny, we are wasting time. Tell me when I may see you again, before you vanish for the afternoon.’

  ‘You mean, see me … not at work?’

  ‘Of course. Not at work. When will it be?’

  ‘Depends what would be best.’ Her heart was beating fast. ‘What about Sunday?’

  ‘Sunday? That’s too far away. Why not one evening? We could go to the theatre. I read in the paper that there is an Agatha Christie play on at the Duchess theatre.’ Viktor’s face was animated. ‘It’s called Black Coffee. They said it was very good.’

  The Duchess Theatre, where her father worked? Oh, no, she’d have to tell him she wanted to go to the theatre with Viktor, and what in heaven’s name would he say? What would Viktor say if she told him she couldn’t risk it? But of course, she must risk it. If she wanted to see Viktor regularly she would have to tell her father soon anyway.

  ‘I know the Duchess,’ she said levelly. ‘My dad works there – he manages the scenery and effects.’

  ‘Why, that is wonderful!’ Viktor cried. ‘You will know all there is to know about the theatre! Shall we say we’ll go, then?’

  ‘Yes, why not? I’ll book the tickets. No, don’t say anything, it will be easier for me. Shall we try for Thursday? We can arrange when to meet later.’

  ‘Fine. Excellent. I’ll leave it to you, then, but I wish to pay.’

  She put her finger over his lips and shook her head. For a long moment they gazed into each other’s eyes, until finally she broke away and ran for Comrie’s, looking back once to wave and to catch Viktor smile.

  She couldn’t have put it clearly into words how she felt when she reached Accounts and met Ross’s interested gaze. Happy? Over the moon? Oh, yes, but also apprehensive, now that she’d realized what it would be like telling her father about Viktor. If he had thought Allan unsuitable what would he think of a foreigner, one whose nation had been his enemy?

  ‘Had a good lunch?’ she heard Ross ask, and from somewhere produced a radiant smile.

  ‘Lovely. Sorry I’m late, though. And that I was – you know – a wee bit snappy.’

  ‘No need to apologise. I was to blame.’ Ross was putting on his coat and smiling. ‘But there’s good news for Viktor – did they tell you as you came through the shop?’

  ‘No, I didn’t stop. What good news?’

  ‘All his slices have sold like hot cakes – pardon the pun – and several orders have been taken for the full-size versions. No need to worry about the price now – we’re on to a winner.’

  Sixteen

  When their father had returned to his work at the theatre that evening, Jinny told her sisters of her fears. Of how she’d had lunch with Viktor and enjoyed being with him. Of how they wanted to see each other again and Viktor had suggested the theatre. Of how they’d agreed on the Duchess, though it was the last place Jinny would have chosen, and were planning to go on Thursday. But how was she going to tell Dad?

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, you’re not going to let Dad throw another tantrum, are you?’ cried Vi. ‘It’s been bad enough with May here, still not allowed to mention Allan’s name – such a piece of nonsense!’

  ‘You tell me how to stop him throwing a tantrum then! If May couldn’t do it, what chance have I?’

  ‘You must be firm. We must all be firm. Tell him straight out that we’re grown up now, not children any more, and we’ve a right to our own lives.’

  ‘The thing is, we live here,’ said May. ‘It’s Dad who pays the rent; he could just show us the door.’

  ‘We pay our way!’ Vi retorted. ‘We don’t live here for nothing, so it’s our home as well as his. He wouldn’t want us to go, anyway.’

  ‘So, I tell him about Viktor and wait for the explosion?’ asked Jinny. ‘It’s a shame, because Viktor seemed quite interested that Dad worked at the Duchess. I think he likes the theatre, he really wants to go with me, and if Dad had been OK about it he might have given us complimentary tickets.’

  ‘I shouldn’t ask him for any tickets if I were you,’ said Vi with a mock shudder. ‘That’d be adding insult to injury in his eyes. Giving free tickets to a man taking his daughter out – a foreigner at that!’

  ‘Oh, don’t!’ Jinny wailed. ‘I know exactly what’ll happen. He’ll say Viktor’s from an enemy country, there’s no future in it and that I’ll be sure to get hurt. You wait, see if I’m right.’

  ‘Suppose you might get hurt, but that’s not the point, you should be free to do that. Just like May should be able to see Allan and talk about him if she likes.’

  ‘True,’ May agreed. ‘But Allan has decided to have it out with Dad, anyway. He says we can’t go on the way we are, and that’s that.’

  ‘That’s good, but what will you do if Dad won’t climb down?’

  ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But Jinny, I think you should speak to Dad tonight as soon as he comes back. Tell him he needn’t worry about you and Viktor, because you know the situation and you can cope with it.’

  ‘Glad you’ve said all that,’ said Vi. ‘Because I think I hear Dad now, coming up the stair.’

  ‘Oh, no, is it that time already?’ cried Jinny, rising and looking as if ready to run. Even if she’d had any such thought, however, it would have been too late, for Josh, rosy with the cold, was already on his way in.

  ‘Hello, girls!’ he called, taking off his cap and coat and rubbing his hands. ‘Got the fire made up? It’s enough to freeze your hair off outside!’

  In a good mood, wasn’t he? That was because May hadn’t been out for a day or two. The sisters all knew, without needing to put it into words, that their father’s moods were a barometer registering May’s evenings out, for when she was with Allan gloomy weather could be forecast, and when she stayed at home there was sunshine. As she was clearly at home that evening Josh, as he approached the fire, was the mellow, good-natured father his family loved, which didn’t make it any easier for Jinny to know that she must soon bring this pleasant situation to an end.

  ‘Like some tea, Dad?’ asked Vi, leaping up from her chair.

  ‘Aye, when have you known me to say no to tea? Won’t have anything to eat, though, as I’ve had sandwiches with the lads. Might manage a biscuit.’

  ‘The digestives are in the coronation tin,’ May said, rising to join Vi, not only to help with the tea but to look meaningfully at Jinny, who was too concerned with gazing at her father to take their unspoken hint.

  ‘How d’you like the play this week, Dad?’ she asked with an attempt at casualness. ‘Black Coffee by Agatha Christie. I’ve heard it’s good.’

  ‘Aye, she can turn a fine plot.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I’m thinking of going to see it.’

  ‘You are?’ Josh sat up in his chair. ‘Jinny, that’s grand. You lassies haven
’t been to the theatre since I don’t know when. It’s all the pictures with you, eh?’

  ‘I like a play sometimes, especially if it’s a thriller.’

  ‘What night are you going? I can get you some tickets.’

  Instantly, Jinny’s face flamed.

  ‘Thursday’s the night, but the thing is, Dad, I’m going with someone from work. He’s – well, he’s the new chap from Austria. I think I told you about him. He’s Mr Comrie’s nephew, just here for a short time, but he said he’d like to go to the theatre and we settled on Black Coffee. It’s not new but it’s had good reviews – should be worth seeing.’

  All the time she’d been rattling on she’d seen her father’s face change as he took in what she was saying, and the register of his barometer dropped from ‘Set Fair’ to ‘Storm’. Now, as her sisters stood, watching, he held up his hand.

  ‘Jinny, that’ll do. I want to get it straight, what you’re saying.’

  ‘Don’t be cross, Dad. There’s nothing to be upset about.’

  ‘When you’re telling me you want to go out with a foreigner? Don’t be cross, you say. It’s what you girls always say, but I’m never cross, just worried, that’s all. Worried you’re storing up trouble for yourself. How can I stand by and let you go out with a fellow who’s only a ship passing in the night? A German, or as good as, from a country that caused a war where millions died—’

  ‘He isn’t a German, Dad, and he’d nothing to do with the war, it’s not fair to say that!’ Jinny’s eyes were shining with feeling, her colour still high, yet she was trying to appear reasonable, trying to make her case. ‘He’s just a cake maker, here for a few months, and he’s nice, he’s friendly – why shouldn’t we go to the theatre together? You talk as if he’s my young man!’

  ‘That’s how things start,’ Josh said doggedly. ‘You go out with a fellow, he wants to see you again, and before you know it you’re in love and all set to get your heart broken. I don’t want that for you, Jinny!’

  ‘But you don’t want May to see Allan either,’ Vi pointed out, as she brought across a tray of tea things. ‘She’s not going to get her heart broken with him, but you still don’t want her to see him.’

  ‘We’re talking about Jinny,’ Josh snapped. ‘What she wants to do is risky and she knows it. Girls don’t go out with men when they know there’s no future in it, and there’s no future in this except heartache. Why should I say I’m happy about it when I’m not?’

  ‘I’m just going to the theatre with Viktor,’ Jinny said in a low voice. ‘That may be the end of it.’ But she knew her heart didn’t believe her, and neither did Josh.

  ‘The thing is you don’t want it to be,’ Josh said, fixing her with his dark eyes so like her own. ‘Look me in the face and tell me that’s no’ true.’

  A silence fell as her family waited, and Jinny, lowering her own gaze, knew what she should say, knew what she wanted to say, opened her mouth to say it – and then closed it again. She couldn’t say it.

  ‘There you are,’ Josh said with grim satisfaction. ‘Pour the tea, Vi. I think I’ve made my point.’

  ‘I’m still going to the theatre with Viktor,’ Jinny said, clearing her throat. ‘He wants to pay for us, anyway, so you needn’t worry about complimentary tickets.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to.’ Josh reached forward and took a biscuit from the plate May had set down. ‘Let’s consider this subject closed. For the time being.’

  Later, at bedtime, Jinny’s sisters tried to console her, but she said she didn’t need consoling. She’d just go her own way as May had done and let Dad say what he liked. She knew the situation, knew what it would mean if she and Viktor did become close and he had to leave her, and would be prepared. It was her heart that was involved, after all – no one else need worry.

  ‘Oh, Jinny,’ May sighed. ‘Maybe Dad’s right. It might be wiser not to see him, eh?’

  ‘Who wants to be wise? Anyway Viktor might not want to see me again after this next time, anyway.’

  Somehow, no one thought that likely.

  Seventeen

  The clash with her father had certainly spoiled Jenny’s pleasure in looking forward to her theatre visit with Viktor. Perhaps she’d had her misgivings as soon as he’d suggested the Duchess, for it meant she’d had to mention it to her father, and the thought of Josh’s likely views on her meeting with Viktor had been enough to cast a cloud over her excitement. The reality of hearing his actual views, however, had been even worse than she’d expected, and though she’d put on a good act when Viktor came over from the bakery to check their arrangements, she wasn’t sure she could keep it going when they met for the play.

  ‘All well?’ Viktor had asked, grateful for finding her alone in the office. ‘You have the tickets?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I was lucky. I got a couple of stalls – all they had left.’

  At least, as he stood close, she could take pleasure in remarking again on his fine features, his vivid blue eyes, his attention that was all on her, and feel that Dad couldn’t spoil any of this, at least. Or, could he? He’d reminded her, as if she needed it, that these looks, this attention, would not always be close, for one day Viktor would have to go away.

  ‘Now, you know the arrangement,’ Viktor was saying softly. ‘I’m going to pay for the tickets. Perhaps you could let me have them?’

  ‘I’d like it to be my treat, Viktor. No arguments.’

  ‘Jinny, it is not possible that you should treat me. I have an allowance from home and I have a salary here – it is best that I should pay. Come on, now!’

  ‘This time, I’d like to pay.’

  ‘There will be another time?’ he asked quickly.

  ‘If you’d like it.’

  He smiled. ‘I think you know the answer to that. Very well, then. I give in, for this time only. What time shall we meet on Thursday?’

  ‘At seven o’clock? The play begins at half past.’

  ‘Excellent.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better go before Ross finds me. I’m not supposed to be here.’ His blue gaze held hers and he seemed to want to say more, but finally turned to the door.

  ‘Till Thursday, then?’

  ‘Till Thursday.’

  For some time after he’d left, she sat at her desk staring into space. Only when Ross came in noisily, bringing with him a rush of cold air and wearing a heavy coat and hat brushed with rain, did she smile and put down her pen, as though she’d just been interrupted from hard work. She was acting a part again, of course; it seemed to be becoming a habit.

  When she saw Viktor waiting for her outside the theatre, however, there was no need to act any part, for the great rush of feeling that consumed her then was genuine and natural, and though she hadn’t experienced it before she knew it for what it was. As she stood looking at him before he looked at her, studying his straight shoulders, his height, his elegance in his dark coat and his hat set at an angle over his blond hair, all thoughts of her father’s disapproval melted from her mind and she was filled with elation that this man was really waiting for her, that he really wanted to be with her. He might in fact return what she now recognized in herself for him, though she still didn’t put that into words.

  ‘Viktor?’

  At the sound of his name, he turned, his face lighting up, and at once he was with her, making a pathway like an arrow through the crowd around him, smiling down at her as he touched his hat and took her arm.

  ‘Jinny, you’re here! Wonderful!’

  ‘As though I wouldn’t be! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.’ She held up her bag. ‘And I’ve got the tickets – let’s go find our seats.’

  Everything seemed so magical. Joining others searching for their stalls, looking up at the people in the boxes, the circle and the edge of the ‘gods’, sensing the atmosphere that went with the anticipation of a live performance that was not found going to a cinema.

  Why don’t we go to the theatre more often? Jinny found herself wonder
ing. And be interested in it, like Dad? But at the thought of her father working somewhere behind the scenes her mind reared away and she glanced quickly at Viktor as they took off their coats and settled into their seats. Don’t let me think of Dad, she pleaded wordlessly. Don’t let him spoil this for me.

  ‘Very good seats,’ Viktor commented. ‘I think we should enjoy this.’

  ‘I’m sure we will. But do you know about Agatha Christie in Vienna?’

  ‘Know about Agatha Christie? Of course we do! My mother has all her books in English and I’ve read them, in English and German. Such good plots! But this, of course, is a play. I don’t know it at all.’

  ‘No, I don’t. But it has Hercule Poirot in it, so it should be like the books.’

  ‘Here is the programme – we must study the characters.’ Viktor hesitated a moment, then put a wrapped package into Jinny’s hands. ‘First, you must have a chocolate.’

  ‘You’ve brought chocolates? Oh, Viktor, that’s so kind!’ As she read the name on the box, Jinny’s eyes widened. ‘And these are very special – the best – but so expensive! You shouldn’t have spent so much!’

  ‘They are to celebrate something special, Jinny.’ Viktor’s smile was radiant. ‘Our first evening together. It means so much. And also—’ He paused. ‘I expect you can guess what else might matter to me.’

  She thought, but only for an instant. ‘That the customers liked your cakes? Viktor, of course they did! I knew they’d be a success.’

  ‘I could only hope, but now I am so happy.’ He lowered his voice. ‘For those two things.’

  ‘Shall we open them now, before the play begins?’ asked Jinny, feeling almost dazed by his apparent pleasure in being with her. ‘I can’t wait to taste them.’

  They spent a happy few moments deciding which ones to try first before the lights dimmed, the safety curtain rose and there they were, transported into the house of a famous physicist shortly to meet his end by foul play, as Hercule Poirot would discover. The spell Agatha Christie could cast so well was beginning its work.

 

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