by Anne Douglas
‘As though I could ever stop worrying.’
‘Yet you look so beautiful. Just the same as you always did.’
Again, they kissed for a long moment, until Stephen pulled a little away and asked in a whisper, ‘When can we be married? As soon as possible?’
‘Oh, yes, yes!’
‘Would you mind a civil wedding? Mind giving up the trimmings? If you want them, I don’t mind, I’ll stand the wait somehow . . .’
‘I don’t care about the trimmings. I just want to be with you.’
‘And then what? Will you come and work with me in my hostel when I get it? Use all those lovely business skills I taught you?’
‘Someone else wanted those,’ she said lightly.
‘Someone else?’ His brow darkened. ‘Who?’
‘Miss Ainslie. Offered me the post of assistant manageress at the club when it re-opens.’
‘And you’ll take it?’
He was so instantly afraid, she immediately covered his face with kisses.
‘Of course I won’t! I want to be like you, doing what I can to help people like me. I mean, people who haven’t been as lucky as me.’
‘It might be a drop in the ocean, what we achieve,’ he said seriously, ‘but I take the view that oceans need drops, anyway. Are you really sure you want to work with me, then?’
‘Really sure.’
He took her hands and kissed them.
‘You know what – it’s freezing here, and getting dark. Why are we always meeting in the dark?’
‘What dark?’ she cried. ‘The gardens are full of light.’
They strolled slowly back to the gate, Stephen saying soon they must meet their two mothers, make everyone happy, and they would be, he knew, but for now, why not make for Maule’s and have a Scottish afternoon tea? Another thing he’d been dreaming about all his long years away. It was terrible, he had to admit, the amount of time he and everyone at war spent thinking about food.
‘Better warn you, we’re a bit the same,’ said Elinor cheerfully. ‘We’ve had rationing since February.’
‘Oh, no, don’t tell me! Surely, Maule’s will still have butter for their scones?’
‘I’m sure they will. This is our lucky day, isn’t it?’
‘Our lucky day . . . The first of many, Elinor?
‘Of a lifetime,’ she said seriously.
But as they let themselves out and she relocked the gate, she gave a little sigh.
‘The only thing I’ll miss is the square, you know. The gardens mean a lot to me.’
‘Why, you could be a member of the ladies’ club!’ Stephen told her, waving his stick at the house across the road. ‘And have your own key to the gardens. What could be better?’
‘Stephen, you’re no’ serious?’
‘Never more so. I’ll pay your sub for a wedding present. What do you say?’
Smiling, she shook her head, still in disbelief that she should ever turn into a club member, and put her arms around him, just as Major Henderson, having shown out a patient, looked down from his window and saw them. By the light of the street lamp, he could even see their faces, and at their radiance, gave a quiet little sigh.
‘Come in, Corporal Armstrong,’ he called over his shoulder, as a tap sounded on his door. ‘Be with you in a minute.’
‘Right you are, sir. Mind if I smoke? Only joking.’
Over at Maule’s tea room, Stephen and Elinor, facing each other across their lucky two-shilling tea for two, were so overcome with feeling, it was some time before they ate anything at all.