The Back of Beyond (22 page)

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Authors: Doris Davidson

BOOK: The Back of Beyond
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Marge, however, said, ‘There's no need. I'm sure Alistair would like to meet you.'

‘I'd better not. I know how I'd feel if my wife produced a man who'd been visiting her while I wasn't there. I go on leave myself in the middle of June, so it'll be four weeks before I see you all again.'

After he left, on one of the bicycles made available at Ardley, Marge gave her sister an enquiring look. ‘Haven't you told Alistair about Ken coming here?'

‘I just told him about the first time,' Gwen said, a little on the defensive. ‘It didn't seem fair … when he's so far away … I thought he might feel jealous, though nothing's going on – how could it, with you and the kids always here, too?'

‘You'll have to gag your David, then. He's got a mouth like the Dartford tunnel.'

A horrified expression crossed Gwen's face. ‘I hadn't thought of that.'

After a moment's concentrated thought, Marge burst out, ‘I've got it! We could tell him it's against army rules for any soldier to visit another soldier's home.'

‘But that would be a downright lie!'

‘Lying's not a criminal offence, and it's either that or tell Alistair the truth. David won't question it, not if I say it's a grown-up secret and he'll have to keep his mouth shut so Ken won't get into trouble.'

‘What about Leila?'

‘I think she'll fall for it, too, and nobody else knows Ken comes here. I've never said a word to a soul in the village, have you?'

‘No, it was nobody's business.' Gwen eyed her sister as if begging for assurance. ‘Do you really think it'll work?'

‘I can't see why not.'

On his first night home, Alistair had done so much travelling and hanging around railway stations over the previous twenty-four hours that he tumbled into bed and was asleep in a few seconds, and Gwen, curlers in and skin shining from the cold cream she had rubbed in and wiped off, felt her heart turn over at how vulnerable he looked. She loved him so deeply it hurt. They'd all been in the house when he arrived, and he had only kissed her once before David and Leila clamoured for his attention, and the moment had passed, the moment he should have taken her in his arms and shown her how much he'd missed her.

Of course, it was natural that he wanted to hug his children, and he'd said he had fourteen days' leave altogether, but the army didn't allow for the time it would take to travel from the south of England and back. That meant she would only have him for twelve days … maybe just eleven nights, and he was sleeping through one of them.

Awake first in the morning, Alistair felt ashamed that he'd been too tired the night before to make love to his wife, but surely she would understand? Something else was niggling at the back of his mind, though, if only he could remember what it was. It had nothing to do with Gwen, nor Marge … nor Leila, even if she
had
been a bit reserved with him.

That left David, who had definitely been different towards him after the initial joyful welcome. Of course, it was months since they'd seen each other – when he'd been David's age, the two months between his birthday and Christmas had seemed like a year – but it wasn't just that. There was an excitement, a nervousness, about him. Had he done something really bad and his father was being left to administer the punishment?

Feeling Gwen stirring now, Alistair leaned across to kiss her, then everything else was blotted from his mind as he made up for lost time. It was wearing on for an hour later, and thankfully they were lying peacefully, when the bedroom door crashed back against the wardrobe and David leapt in.

‘Dad, Auntie Marge says to ask if you're needing the bathroom before me and Leila go in to wash?'

‘Maybe I'd better.'

Gwen sat up. ‘I'll go after you, then, because they take ages.'

‘And Auntie Marge says your breakfast's ready and just go down in your jim-jams.'

Her face reddening, his mother said, ‘Off you go, my lad, and make sure you brush your shoes before you go to school.'

Listening to him running down the stairs, Alistair burst out laughing. ‘Go down in our jim-jams,' he spluttered. ‘Just as well she didn't say to come as we are.'

Swinging his feet to the floor, he went over to the chair by the window to get his underpants and trousers, his naked body more muscular than it used to be, his stomach muscles taut from the discipline of drills and marches.

David and Leila off to school, Gwen upstairs in the bathroom, Alistair took the chance to have a private word with his sister-in-law. He hadn't said anything to his wife, in case he was being oversensitive because of what he would have to tell her soon. ‘Is David in trouble of any kind, Marge?'

‘Not that I know of. What made you think that?'

‘It's … I dunno, the way he looks at me, I suppose, as though he was expecting me to get on to him for something.'

Marge gave a low chuckle. ‘Somebody's always having to get on to him for something, at home and at school, but I'm sure his conscience is clear just now. He's growing older, maybe that's what it is? Maybe he wants you to show him how to do things, like … um, like other fathers show their sons.'

Alistair didn't notice her slight hesitation to cover the gaffe she had been on the point of making. ‘That'll be it,' he smiled. ‘Well, I'll kick a ball around with him for a while when he comes home, how would that do? And I could take him to the burn where Dougal and me used to guddle for fish.' Noticing her puzzled expression, he laughed loudly. ‘It means catching them with our hands.'

‘Great!' she enthused. ‘That's the kind of thing he'll enjoy.'

‘How are you and Gwen coping here?' he asked now.

‘Like old stagers,' she smiled. ‘I was bored stiff before the dances started, but one evening's dancing sees me through the four weeks till the next one.'

Alistair frowned. ‘Dances?'

‘The vicar or whatever they call him puts on a dance once a month for the men at the camp, and he gets a three-piece band from Aberdeen to play. They're quite good, the band and the dances, though everything stops at half past eleven.'

‘You mean you go every month? What about Gwen?'

‘She doesn't want to go, you know how she is, but she doesn't mind me going.'

‘Does Dougal know? I wouldn't be happy about it if you were my wife.'

‘I've told him. All the boys know I'm married and out of bounds, so we just have a few laughs. Besides, with a dozen pairs of beady eyes watching my every move, I wouldn't dare to misbehave even if I wanted to, which I swear I don't.'

‘What about Gwen? Does she not mind being left here on her own?'

‘It's only once a month, Alistair, for goodness' sake, and you know she's a home bird. She wasn't happy to start with, but only because she was afraid I'd meet somebody. She keeps an eye on me, though she knows I'm a one-man girl, like her. I would never want anybody but Dougal, my big Scottish he-man.'

Alistair's leave flashed past. He was glad that he had taken Marge's advice, for he
had
got to know his son better, showing him all the old haunts he had frequented when he himself was a boy, spending maybe half an hour before teatime every day fooling around together with a football, hunkering down with him at the back door to play marbles. Yet he hadn't neglected his wife and daughter. On the Saturday, he had taken them on the bus into Aberdeen and while Gwen was contentedly looking round the stores in Union Street, he had taken the children to the beach by tramcar, a first for them in both cases.

On the Sunday, they'd had a picnic at the tower, and while he and the two women had lain on the grass lapping up the sunshine, Leila had tried to find as many different kinds of wild flowers as she could, and David searched for insects. Watching them as they darted hither and thither brought a lump to Alistair's throat. He was a lucky man, a truly lucky man, with a beautiful wife who loved him as much as he loved her, and the two bonniest bairns in the world. If only he could be here with them all the time!

On his last evening, Gwen persuaded him to cycle to the village. ‘You might see some of your old friends in the hotel bar,' she added, not really wanting him to spend precious time away from her, but trying to let him rekindle old acquaintances and give him something else to remember when he went back.

He had intended to stop at the shop for cigarettes but the shutter was up and he carried on to the hotel. He was out of luck there too, the supplies having run out the day before. It was Dod Tough – husband of Doodie and regarded by her cronies as henpecked, but a force to be reckoned with in discussions and arguments in the bar – who came to his rescue. ‘Lexie aye keeps a puckle packets under the coonter for special customers, and you and her being … eh, good
friends
, heh, heh …' He gave a loud snigger. ‘Go roond the back and knock on the hoose window.'

Ignoring the knowing glances and winks being exchanged by the other men, Alistair said, ‘I need fags if I'm to be sitting here drinking for a couple of hours.'

Lexie didn't seem surprised to see him as she ushered him inside. ‘I heard you were home.'

‘I leave tomorrow.' He shook his head as she gestured towards the sofa. ‘No, Lexie, if I don't get back to the bar, they'll think …'

She regarded him clinically. ‘You wouldn't have worried at one time.'

Embarrassed, and more than a little apprehensive, he was unsure what to say. ‘At one time maybe, Lexie, but a lot of water's passed under the bridge …'

She gave a reassuring laugh. ‘And you've got a wife and two fine bairns. You needn't look so worried, Alistair. I'm not going to jump on you.'

‘I never thought …'

‘No? Look, I admit I was hurt when you went off to London and left me, and I did hanker after you for years, but I got over you.'

‘You never married, though?'

‘Not yet, but I'm still looking.' She gave him a playful punch on the arm. ‘There's plenty of men around Forvit now, you know, and dances every …'

‘Every month, Marje told me.' After a moment's hesitation, he asked, ‘Is there any … gossip about Marge?'

‘Show me one girl in Forvit there's no gossip about …' She shook her head, giggling. ‘You must remember what Doodie Tough and her lot are like? If we as much as smile at one of the Ardley boys, we're making up to them. But you can tell Dougal he's got nothing to worry about with Marge. She tells each and every one of them she's a married woman and they respect her for it, and they still have a good time and so does she. Now, you'd better come through to the shop and I'll miraculously produce a packet of Capstan out of the air for you – that's all I've got, and I've to keep them hidden.'

He followed her through, insisted that she take the money for the cigarettes she gave him. ‘Thanks, Lexie … for everything. You're a good friend.' After a slight hesitation, he added, ‘I won't be seeing you for a while, we're being sent overseas when I go back. I'm going to tell Gwen tonight.'

‘You haven't told her yet?'

‘I didn't want to spoil our time together, but tonight's my last night.'

‘You'd better make the most of it, then. Well, cheerio, Alistair, and good luck!'

He put both hands round the one she held out and clasped it tightly for a moment. ‘Thanks, I'll need it.'

He did not see the wistful look she gave him as he made his way out, and walked into the bar to the accompaniment of loud cheers. Dod Tough leaned across to him when he sat down. ‘I didna think you'd get awa' withoot … you ken?'

Alistair's laugh was guilt-free. ‘Lexie and I have never been more than friends. No matter what anybody thinks.'

‘Good enough friends for her to gi'e you a packet o' Capstan, I see.'

Alistair let that pass, he had done nothing that needed justifying, and his companions returned to their previous topics – the weather, the price of beer and cigarettes when they could get them, the progress or otherwise on all the war fronts. He put forward his opinions when they were asked for, but he backed out of commenting on the war. ‘Don't ask me. The rank and file are the last to hear what's going on.'

‘That's right enough,' agreed Bill Mennie, sitting in a corner with a man Alistair recognized but couldn't name. ‘It was the same last time. Them at the top made the decisions, never mind if it was dangerous for the poor bloody infantry. We were … expendable, that's the word. We're the ones that had to go over the top though we knew Fritz was waiting for us, and we got mowed down like … rats in a trap.'

‘… like rats in a trap,' echoed his companion.

Dod Tough clicked his tongue. ‘Dinna heed them, lad. They mak' oot they saw a lot of action, but they werena five minutes ower there when the Armistice was signed.'

Alistair laughed along with the others, then said, ‘I hope it's the same for me. We're being sent overseas – I don't know where.'

He should have known better. He was now plied with drinks to wish him well, and he felt increasingly uneasy – not for his own safety, but because he still had to tell Gwen. After an hour, his head beginning to swim, he took his leave of the group of men and cycled back to Benview.

‘You haven't been long,' Gwen greeted him. ‘Didn't you see anyone you knew?'

‘I knew most of them, but none of my old pals were there.' He took out his cigarettes, and fished for the lighter he'd made from a bullet shell. ‘They didn't have any fags left in the bar, though, and I'd to knock at Lexie Fraser's house door to get some.' He could sense a change in the air at this, and he wondered why everybody, even his own wife and her sister, took it for granted that there was still something between him and Lexie. The drink he had consumed was enough to fan his pique into anger. ‘Well, I see I've been convicted, judged and tried, so I won't bother denying it. Think what you bloody well like, I'm off to bed!'

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