The Melody Girls (31 page)

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Authors: Anne Douglas

BOOK: The Melody Girls
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‘Of course. I'm going to fetch her now.'
‘Lorna, don't be disappointed, will you? If she still doesn't want to move?'
‘She told me to look at places, Ewen. I'm sure I can persuade her to change her mind. I mean, wait till she sees the house!'
‘It may not be what she wants,' he said gently. ‘Why don't you buy it for yourself – if you can – and let Sam join you when he's older? Your ma could come over whenever needed, eh?'
For some time, Lorna stood in thought, before flinging her arms round Ewen and laughing. ‘Ewen, you've done it again! Solved the problem. Yes, I think you're right. That's what Ma would like, and I'd like too. Come on, let's tell her what's happening.'
‘Hang on.' He took her hand. ‘Listen, would you like to come out for a meal with me?'
‘To celebrate my house? I haven't got it yet!'
He hesitated. ‘I was thinking . . . well, it's my birthday next week, you see . . .'
‘Oh, Ewen, of course! Your birthday! I'd love to come for a meal, but I'll have to check my diary. I know there's one night next week we've nothing booked, but it's probably not on your birthday. Would it matter?'
‘Course not. It'll just be grand if we can meet. Will you let me know the date? I want to take you somewhere nice.'
‘Sure I will.' She put her arm in his. ‘Now, let's go and see Ma.'
Fifty-Two
When Lorna met Ewen the following week, she was touched to find that he'd booked dinner at one of her favourite restaurants in George Street. Much too expensive for him, she worried, though he'd had a promotion recently and had now taken over Miss Dickinson's job, she having been transferred to Glasgow.
‘I know it's my birthday,' he told her calmly, when she ventured to suggest that she should be paying the bill in celebration, ‘but this is my treat, so no arguments.'
‘The thing is,' she told him with shining eyes, ‘I've got the house! My bid came top at the lawyer's auction. And Ma's thrilled that I'm not going to ask her to move in, but says Sam should definitely come to me when he's older. So, this really must be my treat too.'
‘Let's just decide what to eat, Lorna. And drink, eh? I don't know much about wine – maybe you could help me choose?'
‘It'll be the blind leading the blind, if I do. I'm no' much of a drinker at all. Let's just have the house red. That'll do me fine.'
The meal at first went well. Ewen had ordered with confidence, the wine, too, and he and Lorna seemed as wonderfully at ease with each other as they always were, until they reached the coffee stage. It was then that a change seemed to come over him. He began to look around the restaurant, at other diners, the waiters – anywhere except Lorna, and to fiddle with his cup, spilling a little coffee over the pristine white cloth and being overcome with confusion.
‘Oh, trust me, trust me,' he groaned. ‘Can't take me anywhere, can you?'
‘Come on, it's nothing to worry about,' Lorna told him, waving away a waiter who was anxious to change their cloth. ‘We've almost finished, anyway, and it's been lovely, Ewen, a real treat.'
‘Has it?' Finally he brought his anxious gaze to hers, and as he ran his hand over his face, Lorna suddenly realized that more than anxiety over spilt coffee was troubling him.
He had something on his mind, something he wanted to get out. What on earth could it be? Then the idea came to her like a flash of light illuminating everything. Could it be that he was going to propose?
After all these years of being only friends, had he decided, as Tilly had suggested, that it was time for him to marry? And that she, Lorna, should be the obvious one to ask? Even if it was true, as he'd once said to her, that he'd never expected to be the one for her, that he was the boy next door, the one who wasn't special, he might now believe she might consider him. He had, after all, supported her through two unhappy love affairs, been her rock, her trusted friend. Surely, he might think, she was ready to turn to him now.
And perhaps she might be. For the first time, she considered how it would be, to be married to Ewen. Maybe there was a lot to be said for being married to a rock. Someone who'd always be there for you, who'd never let you down.
‘Ewen,' she said gently, leaning towards him. ‘What's wrong? You're desperate to speak to me, aren't you? Why don't you, then?'
He looked quickly round at the tables nearest to them, saw no one was listening, and gave a long sigh, not of relief, Lorna could tell, but of decision.
‘There is something I want to say to you,' he said in a low voice. ‘But we've been special friends for so long, it isn't easy.'
‘Why, being special friends should make it easier to talk, instead of harder, Ewen. You can say anything you like to me, you know.'
‘Can I?' His eyes on her were filled with appeal. ‘Well, I should think you're right. I don't suppose what I do will change things for you, eh?'
‘Certainly could. But what are you planning to do, then?'
He drank the remains of the wine still in his glass, and set the now empty glass down.
‘Lorna, I'm going to be married.'
Married.
She sat back in her chair with a jolt, taking the shock of his words as an extraordinary and totally unexpected blow. Ewen, to be married. And not to her? Not even seeking to be married to her? She felt a strange pain behind her breastbone, which was ridiculous, for if she had actually been considering him as a husband, she still could not think of him as a lover.
So why did she feel as she did? Completely knocked sideways, at the idea of her rock being married to someone else? Because her rock had crumbled? Because she was now clinging on to something that wasn't there?
‘Married?' she repeated huskily. ‘You're going to be married, Ewen?'
He had been watching her carefully, obvious relief that he'd finally broken his news shining clearly over his dear, honest face.
‘Yes,' he said quietly. ‘To Pattie.'
‘Pattie? Pattie MacDowell?'
Well, of course, he meant Pattie MacDowell. Pattie, who had been Lorna's special friend at the post office, who still worked at the post office and was still Lorna's friend, though they met only rarely. And now she and Ewen were to be married?
Lorna, trying hard to appear happily interested, felt herself failing, felt herself in immediate danger of showing her true consternation, yet couldn't manage to save herself. Ewen to marry Pattie? She simply couldn't believe it. When he had never said a word, never given the slightest hint . . .
‘And you never said a word,' she heard herself saying aloud. ‘Why, Ewen? Why never speak of Pattie? Why never tell me you were seeing her?'
‘I don't know. Suppose I was afraid it might no' work out. It's a pretty recent thing, anyway.'
His look now on Lorna had changed from one of appeal to apology, as though he'd recognized the shock he'd given her and wanted to make amends. Which, of course, was not possible.
‘Pattie was telling me one day she was fed up with working at the post office – I'd got the promotion, but she hadn't – and that her job seemed to be going nowhere. And then there was you, you know.'
‘Me?'
‘Well, you've been doing so well. Making records, being on the wireless, becoming famous, all that sort of thing. Pattie couldn't help comparing herself.'
‘Oh, that's a piece of nonsense, Ewen!'
‘No,' he said quietly. ‘I've felt a bit the same.'
‘You haven't! Why, you've done well yourself, Ewen. You've just got promoted!'
‘Aye, I feel better now.' He smiled wearily. ‘Couldn't call myself a star, though. And people who can, they always think others don't mind, eh?'
‘Look, I don't know what to say . . .'
‘It's OK, Lorna, I don't want to make you feel bad. Anyway, the upshot of it was, Pattie and me, we went to the pictures and it sort of snowballed from there. She's a lovely girl, you know. Nice to talk to. Very sympathetic.'
Not always thinking of herself, like me, Lorna thought. And as she remembered the way she'd always considered Ewen, more light appeared to be shining down over him and her. How had she seen him? Only as a loyal friend, who'd always be there for her. Who'd never expect anything, but just come up with advice when required. Go for walks, act as a sounding board for ideas and solutions, be prepared to admire and carry a torch without ever expecting anything back.
‘I'm the one who's no' special,' he had said of himself, and she had let him think it. No, he'd never been special in the way he meant. Even now, reeling from his news, she couldn't think of him as a lover, but he had been special as a person. Pure gold, you might say, while those he'd seen as special, and so had she, were oh so flawed. The worst of it was, it was too late to make amends. Ewen had found his own salvation, and her name was Pattie MacDowell.
‘Ewen, let's go,' Lorna stammered, rising from her seat, tears she couldn't show only waiting to fall. And Ewen, regaining his composure, as hers melted away, called for the bill.
Walking home was an ordeal, for neither could think of what to say. Step by step, they covered the ground to Lorna's flat, where at one time – yesterday, no longer ago than that – she might have invited him in for a goodnight cup of something. Tonight, of course, was different. Tonight, she couldn't invite him in, engaged man that he was, but she did manage to hide her tears and kiss his cheek.
‘I'm sorry, Ewen, I never wished you happiness. But I do, of course. And I'll see Pattie and wish her all the best, too.'
‘She'd like that.'
‘When will the wedding be?'
‘No' sure yet, but fairly soon. Pattie says she wants to enjoy being engaged first, but I reckon that'll mean planning the wedding.'
Ewen was hesitating as Lorna stood on her step, swinging her keys.
‘This needn't make any difference to us, Lorna, eh? I mean, if you ever want any help – you know, advice and all that – you'll still have me.'
‘Oh, yes. I won't forget.'
‘I mean it, Lorna. Can't just suddenly change from being as close as we were, can we?'
‘No, no, we won't change. Goodnight, Ewen. And thanks for a lovely evening.'
‘It was lovely for me too, Lorna. Really was.'
After she'd opened her door and given him a last smile, she saw him walking slowly and steadily out of her life. And then she closed the door and did shed tears, of regret for what she might have done, and the loss of a friend who didn't want to change, but had already changed the minute he put a ring on Pattie MacDowell's finger.
Ah, well Lorna had her own life to live, even if she did feel she was swimming alone in an endless sea where the only rocks there were no longer offered safety. Thank God, she still had what counted. Her family – her mother and Sam – her music and, oh, yes, her new house. Strange how that had for the minute faded from her mind.
Fifty-Three
Tilly, of course, when told of Ewen's engagement, lost no time in declaring that she'd told Lorna so.
‘Now, did I no' say, Lorna, that Ewen was ready to be married, but no' to you? And you see, I was right, because he's fixed up with little Pattie MacDowell, and her ma says she's so happy.' Tilly sighed deeply. ‘She's got some sense, eh? Good men don't grow on trees, you ken.'
‘Ma, Ewen and I could never have been more than friends. We both knew that.'
‘You mean, you did. If you ask me, Ewen would have married you any time you said. But he's got sense as well. When he saw he was never going to get anywhere, he found somebody else and good luck to him, eh?'
‘Yes, good luck,' Lorna echoed seriously. ‘I'll admit, I know I'm going to miss what Ewen and I shared, but he's doing the right thing and I do wish him and Pattie all the luck in the world. OK?'
‘Aye, of course.'
Tilly suddenly put aside the blouse she had been stitching and rose to put her arm round Lorna's shoulders.
‘I'm sorry, pet, for going on at you. Maybe you're right, it'd never have worked out between you and Ewen. He couldn't have been a part of your world and you've grown away from his. So, maybe he's better off with someone like Pattie.'
‘I know he is,' Lorna said softly. Her eyes went to her mother's sideboard clock. ‘Ma, you're collecting Sam today from playgroup, eh? Because I said I'd meet Pattie at the West End tea shop.'
‘Yes, I'm picking up Sam.' Tilly raised her eyebrows. ‘I didn't know you were meeting Pattie, but it's a good move.'
‘How d'you mean, a good move?'
‘Well, shows you wish her all the best. Just like you said.'
‘I meant what I said,' Lorna said coldly. ‘She is a friend. I want to give her my congratulations.'
‘One of these days, maybe folk will be congratulating you. For more than your band.'
‘Hope you aren't going to mention finding Mr Right, Ma?'
‘I'm just thinking of you being on your own. It's no picnic. I should know.'
‘You had me. I've got Sam.'
Tilly smiled, but made no reply, not liking to say that children grow up, and quickly, too, very soon wanting to lead their own lives. They might come back, might help, give advice, but not stay. And who would think they should? Didn't stop you being lonely, when they'd gone.
Arriving first at the tea shop in Shandwick Place where she'd arranged to meet Pattie on her half day, Lorna was able to watch Ewen's new fiancée approach through the crowded tables. How pretty she looked! Had she lost weight lately? Folk said brides usually lost weight, and if Pattie was not yet a bride, she certainly looked like one. Radiant, was the word.

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