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Authors: Tenement Girl

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‘Oh, I know, she’d be wonderful, but it’s you I want to talk to, because – well, because I know I’ve hurt you, too. Though you must believe me, I never meant to, it’s the last thing I’d do. But come in, please, come in. It’s so kind of you, I do appreciate it.’

Twenty-Seven

It was some time since Lindy had been in Rosemary’s refurbished flat, but she marvelled afresh at its splendid appearance: Jemima’s decoration, Rosemary’s lovely pieces, the rugs and cushions, the gilt-framed pictures. What an amazing place it was, then, to find in a tenement in Scott Street! Not that it was very tidy. Seemingly, in spite of all her willingness to help, Rosemary’s new life did not include any real housework, and it was well known that Jemima always rushed round with broom and dusters for Miss Rosemary’s flat when she cleaned her mother’s. That was only to be expected. But at least Rosemary now knew how to make a cup of tea and offered one to Lindy, who declined it, saying she really couldn’t spare much time.

‘So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’ she asked, reluctantly sitting down at Rosemary’s invitation. As though she didn’t know! But she must let Rosemary say what she had to say.

‘Oh, Lindy, I’m sure you know already. I was on the landing, I heard you with Neil in the hall – not what was said, just your voices. But you’d have seen him, seen the state he was in –’ Rosemary put a lace-edged handkerchief to her eyes. ‘It was so terrible. I’ve never seen anything like it – I mean, the change in him.’

‘After you’d told him?’ Lindy asked coldly. ‘Told him he’d got everything wrong?’

‘Told him? Yes.’ Rosemary put aside her handkerchief. ‘But what else could I do? I had no idea, you see, no idea at all. It came like a bolt from the blue. Hit me so hard I could barely speak.’

‘But you did speak, didn’t you?’

‘Lindy, I had to. I couldn’t let the poor boy go on believing – well, what he did believe. He’d brought flowers, you know, and a bottle of wine. He said they were for a celebration.’ Rosemary dropped her voice and looked away from Lindy. ‘Of our love. Can you imagine how I felt?’

‘No, because you must have seen it coming, Rosemary.’ Lindy’s tone was flint-like, her eyes as hard. ‘Women always know when a man’s keen, eh? They’ve a way of looking, of talking – even other folk can tell. Don’t tell me you’ve no experience of men falling for you and Neil’d be no different, even if he’s a tenement lad. But you did nothing, eh? You just let him keep on going with his dreams till he got the nerve to speak and then you put the knife in. No wonder he went to pieces!’

‘No, no, Lindy, I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t!’ Rosemary cried. ‘I never for a moment thought that he – honestly, I never believed . . .’

As she fell silent, understanding suddenly flowed through Lindy, who stood up abruptly and moved to Rosemary’s door.

‘I see,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s true what you say – you never imagined Neil could think of loving you, because of what he was. A tenement lad, like I said. He believed two people could love each other whatever their background, but maybe he was just crazy. I said myself he was, so maybe you can’t be blamed for thinking that too.’ Without looking again at Rosemary, Lindy opened her door and said quietly, ‘Goodnight, then.’

‘Wait,’ Rosemary said in a low voice. ‘Wait. I can be blamed. I see it now. I can be blamed. Lindy, I blame myself.’ She moved to Lindy and put her hand on her arm. ‘But what can I do?’

‘Don’t think there’s anything.’

‘Do you think he’ll be all right? He was so strange – I was so worried – am worried –’

‘We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.’

Though she would never speak of it to Rosemary, Lindy knew in her heart she was not altogether surprised by Neil’s extreme reaction to Rosemary’s rejection. He’d always been different from the other young men in the tenement, living on his nerves, given to fits of moodiness – maybe because he was a writer, if that was the way writers were.

To have lived in a fool’s paradise over Rosemary had still been paradise for him, and when she told him it wasn’t maybe it was only to be expected that he couldn’t take it. Poor Neil. Lindy saw now only too clearly that he’d never been in love with her. Loved her, yes, as a dear friend, but to be caught in thrall to a woman as he was with Rosemary – no, he’d never had that kind of feeling for her, the ‘girl next door’, the one he’d always known. Just as well, as she’d never felt it for him. Did she feel it for Rod? Just for a moment, her heart lifted as she thought of him. How happy she was with him, how easy he made everything! But now was not the time to dwell on her own feelings and, as anxiety for Neil came back into her mind, Lindy looked at Rosemary.

‘He’ll be all right,’ she said as confidently as she could. ‘Try no’ to worry. He’ll have to work things out for himself, eh?’

‘I suppose so,’ Rosemary answered, her eyes troubled. ‘But thank you for talking to me, Lindy. I’m so sorry I seem to have caused . . . so much trouble. I never meant to, but that’s no excuse, I see that now. I should have done things differently, should have seen what was happening . . .’

Lindy, turning away, shook her head. There was nothing she could say to help. If only they knew where he was, what he was doing . . . Maybe gone drinking, to drown his sorrows? No, it was Sunday, most pubs would be closed. Anyway, Neil was not a drinking man. Would Struan have any ideas where Neil might go in the state he was in? If he was at home that Sunday evening Lindy decided she’d ask him, might even suggest he collected Neil’s brothers and went to look for him . . . Yes, why not?

‘Rosemary, I’ve got to go,’ she said quickly. ‘If my brother’s in I’ll ask him to help find Neil.’

‘Oh, would you, Lindy?’ Rosemary raised her drenched eyes. ‘Would you let me know if he does?’

‘I will. But you go and see Jemima, eh? She’ll help, she always does. Goodnight, Rosemary.’

‘Goodnight, Lindy – and thanks. All my thanks again.’

Wasting no more time, Lindy ran down the stairs home. Strange, how far away her trip with Rod seemed now, yet it was no more than a few hours in the past. Rod, though, was not far away, and even though she couldn’t give herself up to thoughts of him, she knew, when this anxiety over Neil had gone, there he would be, in her mind, making her feel better. Now, though, she had to tell her family what had happened.

Twenty-Eight

They were in the living room, Struan as well, thank God, and the kettle on the range was boiling, which meant there was going to be tea and she could do with that, could do with something. For, even though she’d seemed well, she realized she was actually quite exhausted. The toll of seeing Neil and coping with Rosemary was making itself felt, and she would have given a lot just to burst into tears and go to her bed. As though she could!

‘Is that tea you’re making, Aunt Myra?’ she asked with such a tremble in her voice all eyes in the room immediately focused on her, and even Gingerboy, supposed to be asleep on George’s knee, gave her one of his stares, as though he realized something was wrong.

‘Why, lassie, you sound weary,’ said George. ‘Have you tired yourself out?’

‘And you’re awful late back,’ put in Myra. ‘We wondered if you’d had a breakdown.’

‘No, we never had a breakdown, we had a grand time by the sea at Aberlady, and the picnic was lovely – I’ve just been up to give what was left to Aggie.’

‘Hey, you might have remembered me,’ Struan said, frowning. ‘I bet there were some sausage rolls, eh? I can just see Rod buying sausage rolls.’

‘As though you don’t get enough to eat here!’ snapped Myra, though her eyes were still on Lindy. ‘And is that where you’ve been, eh, all this time, talking to Aggie? She’s no’ usually got much to say.’

‘No, I’ve been talking to Rosemary.’ Lindy heaved a great sigh. ‘And before that I saw Neil. He was like a madman, running out into the street in a terrible state because Rosemary had turned him down. And she was in a state, too, crying because she’d got such a shock, and then he was so strange, no’ like himself at all, she didn’t know what he’d do, but I couldn’t help.’

Tears at last filled Lindy’s eyes and she brushed them away. ‘In fact, I blamed her – I said she should have warned him off earlier, but then I felt a bit sorry, because she did seem to care and was so worried about Neil. And so am I.’

At first there was silence after Lindy had finished speaking, with Myra glancing at George, George shaking his head, and Struan still frowning.

Myra was the first to speak. ‘So, where’s he gone, then – Neil?’

‘We don’t know. He just ran out into the street, and when I ran after him I couldn’t see him.’

‘Where could he go?’ asked George. ‘On a Sunday?’

‘I thought, Struan, you might go and look for him,’ Lindy said eagerly. ‘Maybe get his brothers to look as well?’

‘What good would that do? He’s no’ going to take any notice of us. Sounds as mad as a hatter, from what you say.’

‘Aye, crazy,’ Myra agreed, rising and moving to the range to make the tea. ‘He was always different from everybody else, always likely to go off the rails. I often used to say that, eh? I used to say that very thing to his mother, poor woman.’

‘I don’t remember you saying that,’ said Lindy. ‘You thought Neil was very sensible, with a good job and just right for me.’

‘He may have made folk think he was nice and sensible, but look at the way he messed you around, Lindy! And then to go and fall for Miss Rosemary? As if he had any sort o’ chance there. Now if that doesn’t make him sound crazy, what would?’

‘I always liked Neil,’ sighed George. ‘I think you should go and look for him, Struan. I don’t like to think of him wandering the streets.’

‘What are you all afraid of?’ cried Struan. ‘That he’s going to throw himself off George the Fourth Bridge?’

‘Plenty have,’ said George. ‘Or the Dean Bridge, maybe.’

‘Never Neil,’ Struan said firmly. ‘He’s too fond of himself to do that. Thinks he’s going to be a great writer, eh? So he’s no’ going to waste it all by taking a leap.’

‘Will you stop it?’ Lindy cried. ‘You should be trying to help, Struan, instead of acting so heartless.’

‘All right, all right.’ He ground out the cigarette he’d been smoking. ‘I’ll go up and see if the MacLauren lads are in and we’ll do what we can. No one’s going to call
me
heartless!’

‘Sorry,’ said Lindy, drinking the tea Myra gave her. ‘It’s just that I’m frightened Neil will do something silly, if you want to know. You didn’t see him tonight. I did.’

‘And all this over Miss Rosemary?’ asked Myra, clicking her tongue. ‘Who could believe it?’

I could, thought Lindy, but she said nothing. She felt a little better, drinking the tea and knowing that Struan was going to help. Maybe Neil would be found safe and well, not ready to jump off a bridge at all. Maybe she’d just exaggerated how he looked and he wasn’t acting crazy – was just upset, which was only to be expected? Truth was, she knew she hadn’t exaggerated anything, for Rosemary had been frightened by Neil’s reaction too, and from the look on his face when he’d run into the street, he wasn’t to be trusted to look after himself.

‘We’re away,’ called Struan, putting his head round the door. ‘I’ve got two o’ the MacLauren boys; the others are out. Better go up and see their ma, Aunt Myra – she’s upset. Didn’t even know what had happened to Neil till I told her.’

‘Oh, poor Vi! I’ll go up now,’ said Myra. ‘But what a devil that Neil is, then, causing all this trouble!’

‘Struan, I was thinking I could come with you,’ Lindy suggested, jumping up. ‘If we find him he might listen to me.’

‘No, no, you’d only be in the way.’ Struan, putting on his cap and jacket, dismissed the idea without a second’s thought. ‘It’s dark – no place for a lassie. We’ll be better on our own. See you later – don’t know when we’ll be back.’

‘Try no’ to worry, pet,’ George said to Lindy when they were alone, except for Gingerboy. ‘Neil will soon come to his senses, I’m sure. People get over these things, you know, it’s no’ the end of the world.’

‘It takes time, Dad. Doesn’t happen overnight.’

‘No, but what I’m saying is he won’t be likely to do anything daft once he’s cooled down a bit.’

‘I hope you’re right.’ Lindy’s eyes went to the clock. ‘Oh, it’s so awful, waiting. I wonder how long they’ll be?’

‘Depends,’ said George, ‘on if they find him.’

Two hours and more went by. Myra came back, saying she’d had a job to calm Vi down – she’d been all for going out and looking for Neil herself till Myra had persuaded her otherwise. Anyway, she was calmer now and was waiting like everyone else to see if the boys had found him. In the meantime, Myra was saying she’d make some more tea and they could have some bread and cheese – she’d some chutney somewhere – when the flat door banged and Struan returned.

‘No sign of him,’ he announced, taking off his cap and pulling back his damp hair. ‘And it’s freezing out there – let me get near that range, eh?’

‘No sign?’ cried Lindy, rising. ‘Oh, no, Struan – where’d you look?’

‘Everywhere. Including the bridges, let me tell you, and he’s certainly no’ jumped off because nobody has tonight. He must have gone inside somewhere, but where I’ve no idea. What’s open on a Sunday night?’

Lindy stood very still. ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘Churches. Did you try any churches?’

‘Neil’s no churchgoer, there’d be no point.’

‘It’d be somewhere to go, that’s all.’ Lindy was already getting into her coat, pulling on a woollen hat. ‘I’m going to look, anyway, and don’t try to stop me.’

‘Don’t ask me to go out again,’ cried Struan. ‘I’ve had enough and so have the lads.’

‘I’ll come with you, Lindy,’ said George. ‘Myra, we’ll no’ be long. Keep the kettle on.’

‘Of all the silly things!’ groaned Myra. ‘You’ll never find that crazy laddie out there. Leave him to come home on his own, I say!’

‘He might never come home,’ said Lindy, now ready to leave. ‘Come on, Dad, let’s go.’

Twenty-Nine

They found him in the third church they tried, a church on George the Fourth Bridge, not far from the famous jumping-off place for suicides which looked down into the Cowgate below. Lindy could hardly look at it without shuddering, but it was all right – Struan had said nobody had jumped off anywhere that night, and when she and George went into that third church, there was Neil. Sitting at the back, difficult to see in the shadows except for a white blur that was his face, but he was there and Lindy’s searching gaze found him with ease. She touched her father’s arm.

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