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BOOK: Anne Douglas
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But he only put his fingers over her lips until she drew away, laughing, and he said he must get back to lock up at the hostel.

‘See you Saturday?’ he asked. ‘My evening off next week.’

‘Grand.’ They kissed in farewell, then Lindy, as usual, waved him away as he drove off and turned to go into the flat to continue the celebrations.

‘For Gingerboy this time,’ said Myra. ‘Look what they gave me at the restaurant. A bag o’ fish pieces!’

‘Is that what you were hiding in your bag?’ asked George. ‘Come on, then, Gingerboy! Talk about lucky, eh?’

‘You mean the cat or you?’ asked Struan, laughing.

But George only grinned.

Sixty-Two

It was a grey evening in August, warm and sticky, when Lindy left Logie’s to queue for her tram. She was feeling pleasantly tired after dealing with the crowds of tourists who were looking round everywhere, even the Stationery Department. And then she and Jemima had spent quite a busy lunch hour studying materials to see if there was anything suitable for their wedding outfits.

Having decided on a registry office for the ceremony, Lindy had regretfully ruled out the traditional bride’s and bridesmaid’s dresses, sad though that made Jemima feel – not for herself, she hastened to say, but because Lindy would have made such a beautiful bride dressed in white satin or lace.

‘I’ve already been a bride,’ Lindy told her, smiling. ‘At two fashion shows and I don’t know how many catalogue shoots. Rosemary’s the same – she makes a very popular bride.’

‘Nice you see her from time to time.’ Jemima’s face was alive with interest, as it always was when she was discussing Miss Rosemary. ‘Did you see the announcement of her engagement in the papers?’

‘Oh, yes, she showed me cuttings. Also her ring, which was lovely.’

‘But no prettier than yours, Lindy. And yours is special, being Rod’s mother’s, eh?’

‘It means a lot,’ Lindy said softly. ‘I can honestly say I don’t envy Rosemary at all.’

‘Nor me,’ Jemima returned, but though Lindy looked at her with a question on her lips, she only said they’d better get on with their choosing. In the end they couldn’t quite decide, and thought it best to wait for the arrival of the winter stock, due any moment.

‘Still plenty of time,’ said Jemima. ‘You haven’t set a date yet, have you?’

‘Think we should. I’ll speak to Rod when I see him.’

As she waited for her tram, Lindy was wondering when that would be. Probably at the weekend again, but he hadn’t fixed a time when they’d last parted. In fact, he’d seemed rather preoccupied, which wasn’t like him. She’d almost asked him if he had something on her mind, but had been sidetracked, debating with herself when she should tell him she might just possibly be giving up modelling. Since her folks no longer needed the extra money she’d been giving them, she would be free to do something she wanted to do, even if it didn’t pay so much. But what did she want to do?

She’d been disappointed with modelling and didn’t want to burn her fingers twice, yet was finding herself increasingly drawn to the sort of work she’d thought she’d never even consider. Would she have the courage to eat humble pie and tell Rod she wanted to do what he was doing? She’d reached no conclusion when she heard a car’s horn and was taken aback to see Rod in his car, waving to her.

‘Quick, jump in!’ he was shouting. ‘There’s a tram behind me!’

‘But Rod, what are you doing here?’ she gasped, scrambling in and banging the car door behind her so that he could drive rapidly away.

‘I was planning to go to number nineteen, but then I remembered this was one of your Logie’s days and thought I’d try the tram stop.’

‘But we weren’t planning to go out, were we?’

‘No, but something’s come up. I need to talk to you. Dougie’s holding the fort.’

‘Thing is, they’ll be expecting me at home.’

‘Oh, I know, we can stop off and let them know.’

She felt she should have been excited at the prospect of unexpected time with Rod, but there was something about his manner that was rather different from usual. She couldn’t quite decide how it was different, only that it was enough to make her hold back any enthusiasm.

‘And where are we going?’ she asked as they drove towards Scott Street.

‘To Dad’s house. We can be private there, and I’ve brought some ham and salad stuff so we needn’t worry about going for a meal.’

‘You seem to have thought this all out, Rod. Is it important?’

He drove without speaking for some moments.

‘Very important,’ he answered at last. ‘You’ll see.’

Very important. When they arrived at the house in Leith, after she’d told Myra what was happening, Lindy found she was hardly daring to look at Rod as they set out their cold supper in the kitchen. He seemed so unlike himself, so much on edge in a way she’d never seen in him before, she was beginning to feel the same herself. Or worse, maybe, because he at least knew what he was going to say while she didn’t, except that she guessed it was something she was not going to like. Something he didn’t actually want to tell her, but felt he must.

Having washed the lettuce and cut up the tomatoes and cucumbers to go with the ham, she raised her great eyes to his and was not surprised when his slid away.

‘Do you really want to eat this now?’ she asked quietly. ‘Couldn’t we talk first?’

He ran a hand over his face, then met her gaze. ‘Yes, you’re right. We can’t eat now. Let’s go in the sitting room.’

On the sofa near the fireplace she looked around, remembering the lovely Boxing Day she had spent here when Rod’s father had been home. She’d seen him once since then when he’d come back briefly in the spring, but now he was on his way to Australia, far, far away. Was he to be told whatever it was Rod was planning to tell her? If so, he would have to wait a long time for it. At least she was going to know now.

Rod had come to sit next to her, was taking her hand in his and was again meeting her gaze. ‘You remember I said something about Spain some time ago? Have you been reading anything about it in the papers?’

‘I saw there’d been some sort of revolt against the government.’

‘Yes, that’s correct. Right-wing generals and people who sided with them organized what’s called a coup against the Republican government. That had been democratically elected, it was what the people wanted, but the Nationalists, as they call themselves, are Fascists – you know, like Mussolini’s Italians – and they planned revolts all over the country. The coup wasn’t completely successful, so what’s happening now, Lindy, is out and out civil war.’

‘I see. That sounds terrible. What’s going to happen, then?’

‘The worst, I should think, unless something is done.’ Rod leaped to his feet and began pacing the room. ‘The thing is, you see, the Republican government is too weak to stand alone and if no one helps the generals will win and there’ll be a regime like Mussolini’s or Hitler’s in Spain. We can’t let that happen.’

‘We? You mean this country?’

‘No!’ Rod angrily shook his head. ‘This country’s going to do nothing. They won’t take sides, in spite of the injustice of it all! But people from this country can do something, just like men and women from France and elsewhere – they can fight to support the rightful government. Lindy, I saw in the paper a short time ago that an International Brigade had been formed and some British men are planning to join it.’

Suddenly Rod drew her to her feet and held her close as a great fear began to build in her heart and, even in the warmth of his arms, she was shivering.

‘Lindy, darling –’ He kissed her face. ‘I’m asking you to let me join it too. I know it’s a terrible thing to ask –’

‘No!’ she cried. ‘No, you can’t ask me, Rod, you can’t! If you love me you can’t ask me to let you go and get killed! I’ll never agree – never!’

‘Listen, listen – I’m not going to be killed. I’m only giving my support to a cause that’s gripping all the thinking people of Europe. Workers, artists, nurses – all sorts of people are going to Spain. I’ve always been against injustice, you know that, and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t join folk who feel the same. Please, Lindy, say you understand.’

She drew herself from his arms and sank down on to the sofa, putting her hand to her head as he knelt before her. ‘We were going to be married,’ she said desolately. ‘I’ve been looking at materials for my dress.’

‘We are still going to be married, as soon as I come back. I love you, Lindy. I want to be married to you more than anything in the world, but I have to do this first.’

‘We could be married before you went.’

He hesitated. ‘No, there wouldn’t be time.’

‘When would you go, then?’

‘September. I’ll have to put my notice in with the council and make arrangements.’

She sat staring into space, thinking that this was how an earthquake must feel. A cracking open of your whole world, where nothing you’d taken for granted was safe, and where all that was before you was a great dark void.

‘You don’t want to be married now, do you?’ she asked. ‘Is that because you don’t want me to be a widow?’ He made no reply but rose to sit with bowed head on the sofa until suddenly she reached across to him and put her arms around him.

‘Rod, if I did ask you for my sake no’ to join this brigade, would you do it?’

He rested sad eyes on her face and touched her cheek. ‘I wouldn’t join,’ he said softly.

‘But you’d never be happy, would you? You’d always be thinking, like you said, that you couldn’t live with yourself? But you could always blame me.’

‘I’d never blame you, Lindy.’

With a deep sigh, she loosened her arms from him. ‘It’s all right, Rod. I won’t ask you.’

Sixty-Three

They couldn’t eat Rod’s salad and Lindy packed it in a bag to give to Aggie, but they did make some tea and sat at the kitchen table to drink it.

‘There was something I was going to tell you,’ Lindy said after a time. ‘Before my world fell apart.’

‘Oh, God, Lindy—’

‘Look, it doesn’t matter anyhow, the way things have changed.’

‘My love for you has not changed.’

She looked away. ‘Well, all I was going to say was that I don’t feel the same about modelling.’

His tired eyes widened. ‘How do you mean?’

‘I still don’t see it like you did, but I – I suppose I think now it’s no’ for me. I like clothes, I like to look nice, but I feel now that there’s too much emphasis on looks, as though they were all that mattered.’ She shrugged. ‘Truth is, they are, eh? Because your job depends on ’em. But maybe I don’t want that sort of job. That’s all I was going to say.’

‘What sort of job would you like?’ Rod asked with sudden eagerness. ‘One with women, maybe? Or children?’

‘Something I probably can’t do.’

‘Something like mine?’

She sighed. ‘Oh, what’s the point in talking, Rod? Nothing matters now.’

‘It does, it does. Your world hasn’t come to an end. I’ll be coming back, we’ll be together, and I want you to do something worthwhile. You feel that, too, don’t you? I always said, didn’t I, that you were one who could care for other people? You wouldn’t agree, but you just needed time to see it. And now you have!’

‘It’s like I say,’ she said bleakly. ‘What I want to do doesn’t matter now. I can’t think of anything else except that you’re leaving me.’

They clung together, Lindy softly crying, Rod’s face dark with emotion.

‘I’ll be coming back, I will, Lindy. It’s just – like you said – something I have to do. But the time will come when we’ll be together again, I promise you. Tell me you’ll remember that. Tell me, Lindy!’

‘And let you go? I’ve said I will.’ She rose, picking up their cups. ‘But I don’t want to talk any more. Will you take me home?’

On the drive back they didn’t speak. Only when they arrived at number nineteen did Rod break their silence. ‘I’ll come in with you,’ he told Lindy. ‘I’ll tell your folks myself what I’m going to do.’

‘You needn’t come in. I can tell them.’

‘No, they’ve a right to hear it from me.’

‘If you say so.’

Together they went into the flat, where at the entrance George, Myra, and Struan looked up with smiles.

‘Rod, it’s grand to see you!’ cried George. ‘Come and sit down.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ said Myra happily, but Rod thanked her and said no, they didn’t want tea.

‘Rod has something he wants to tell you,’ said Lindy, sitting down and taking Gingerboy on her knee.

‘No’ bad news, is it?’ asked Struan, drawing on a cigarette. ‘You’re both looking like the man who lost a shilling and found sixpence.’

‘Be quiet, Struan,’ said George, his smile dying. He too could see the looks on the faces of Lindy and Rod. ‘Let Rod say what he wants to say.’

‘I hope you’ll understand,’ Rod began, taking a chair. ‘I’m feeling terrible, asking Lindy to understand, too, but she does and she’s agreed to let me go.’

‘Go where?’ asked Myra, her eyes narrowing.

‘To Spain with the International Brigade. There’s a British contingent going to help restore the government and fight the Fascists who are trying to take over.’ Rod was speaking too quickly, trying to hide his nervousness, knowing that as far as Lindy’s family was concerned he might have been speaking a foreign language.

‘It will seem strange to you, maybe, that I want to go, but I feel I must do what I can to help,’ he struggled on. ‘I’m not alone, others feel the same – we have to join in, to fight for what’s right.’

There was a stunned silence, during which Myra and George exchanged looks and Struan smoked furiously.

‘You’re going to postpone the wedding?’ Myra asked at last. ‘You’re asking Lindy to do that?’

‘I am, yes.’ Rod passed his hand over his brow. ‘I told you, I feel bad.’

‘I’m no’ surprised. How could you do it to her, Rod?’

‘Aye, how?’ asked George, his face bewildered. ‘What’s Spain to do with us?’

‘As I said, it’s a question of supporting the right cause. If the generals win there will be a Fascist regime in Spain. The people will be ground down; there’ll be totalitarian rule. We can’t let it happen.’

‘And what good are you going to be?’ demanded Struan. ‘You’re no soldier.’

BOOK: Anne Douglas
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