I'll Get By (14 page)

One of them cleared his throat, which was a signal for the other one to say, ‘Hello, my dear.’

Robert Stone displayed a marked resemblance to his son, and was just as straightforward in nature, she thought. Rennie would look like Robert when he was older – neat, upright and gruff. His hair was iron grey with lighter streaks, and his smile was cautious until she said, ‘Rennie looks a lot like you,’ and then it came out like the sun, so she couldn’t help but respond with a smile of her own. ‘He has your smile, as well.’

Robert made a courtly bow over her hand and kissed it. ‘Good looks have always run in the Stone family.’

‘They didn’t reach me.’

Cousin Ambrose was long-faced and silver-haired, and wore side whiskers. He looked as though he might be part of a barbershop quartet, for he was flamboyant for a man leaving middle-age behind, dressed as he was in checked trousers, yellow shirt and a pale jacket over a waistcoat the colour of a billiard table. He wore a cravat with a gold horseshoe pin, and had cat hairs on his jacket. Introduced as Cousin Ambrose, that’s all anyone ever called him, except when he was with a client.

Both men were silks; which meant they were KCs; which in its turn meant they were King’s Counsel. They took precedence in the office hierarchy.

‘You’re Rennie’s girl, the one with a good mind he told us about?’

Constance interjected. ‘No, Cousin Ambrose. Margaret is one of our clients, and because he knew we needed someone for the office, Rennie asked us to accommodate her. She’s with us to gain experience in legal office work. Pamela is Rennie’s girl.’

‘Oh, I thought that affair was over.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Going to be a lawyer, are you? It will be nice to have a pretty little filly frisking about the office. It will brighten up the day.’

Meggie tried not to roll her eyes. ‘I’m not Rennie’s girl but we’re friends. And I don’t frisk, I’m afraid. I’m much too young for Rennie, in fact, he’s already said so.’

‘Then he’s a fool.’

Constance chuckled. ‘Rennie was always sensible about such matters. He can be a stuffed shirt at times, also like his father. Now gentlemen, we must get Margaret an assistant who can answer the phone and see to the files. If Margaret is going to learn anything useful in her time here we need someone to do the less important tasks while she assists us.’

Along came Ella Richards, middle-aged and no-nonsense, who rearranged the working space to suit herself and took the most comfortable chair as her own by right of age. She moved Meggie’s pot plant to the corner where it immediately became the depository for the clients’ cigarette butts. Neglected and forgotten, it eventually died and was thrown out into the yard, again by Ella, who muttered, ‘I’m not paid to be a gardener or keep that ruddy great lump of brass clean.’

Ella was very efficient and brisk on the telephone, and she bossed the cleaner around so the corners were kept clean and the window sills free of dust. Ella provided everyone with tea twice a day, and the occasional biscuit when the black market allowed.

Constance Stone worked mostly on matters that could be settled out of court, so was usually at hand, if needed. Rennie had handled the solicitor’s duties and his mother had stepped into his shoes.

Meggie was appreciative of the fact that the woman shared Rennie’s news with her, and his occasional enquiry as to her own progress. His love always went to Pamela, and Constance made sure she knew that. He always hoped that little Miss Elliot was proving useful.

As for Meggie herself, she looked up references in the library, attended meetings in the conference room, sat in on the conferences and meetings with clients – where she was able to take notes in shorthand – and generally impressed herself and her lawyers with her efficiency and her ability to soak up knowledge like a sponge.

She made good use of the library of law books.

Sometimes she went to court with the two barristers, loaded down with files and trying to keep up as they strode through the street, wigs askew and robes ballooning behind them, as if about to launch themselves into the air like a couple of wizards on broomsticks. They certainly put on the style. She wondered if Rennie would do the same when he became a barrister. Would she?

She loved the cleverness and the cut and thrust of the court work, but woe betide her if their papers weren’t in the proper order when they were needed, or she kept them waiting. The barristers were indeed an arrogant pair, who thought nothing of giving her a dressing down in public. But far from letting it crush her, she learned to live with it.

Leo and Aunt Es helped her celebrate her eighteenth birthday with a fruitcake her mother had sent in a parcel, and which had disintegrated into crumb-coated sultanas and currants en route.

The three of them stared at the brown mess that emerged from the parcel. ‘Only my sister could have managed to cook something like that,’ Esmé said, as they all stared at the heap of crumbs.

Meggie giggled. ‘She didn’t leave it in the oven long enough to cook in the middle. Honestly . . . I’m surprised my stepfather has survived all these years on Mummy’s cooking. He’s a saint.’

‘It smells delicious, and doctors usually develop a cast iron stomach,’ Leo said. ‘What are you going to do with it, Meggie?’

‘It would be a shame to throw it away. I’ll bind it together with a couple of eggs and some milk and re-bake it. We’ll call it something else and have it with custard for pudding over the next few days.’

‘Flatulence pudding sounds more lively than calling it “something else”,’ Leo suggested, his juvenile humour earning him a pinch on the rear from Aunt Es.

There were birthday cards in the parcel with notes from her brothers and stepfather, and a long letter from her mother. It contained all the local gossip. She told them that Sylvia and Chad were expecting a baby, and begged them all to be careful. It made Meggie feel quite homesick.

Her aunt went a bit quiet at the news of the coming baby, and then, when Meggie hugged her, she kissed her cheek and said, ‘We must send Sylvia and Chad a congratulations card.’

At the office there was a distraction when Rennie came home on leave, in early Decmber.

The day had been unusually quiet and Meggie was alone. The lawyers had gone to their favourite Friday haunts, and Constance Stone had used the free time to catch up on her home affairs.

Meggie had sent Ella home early, and had stayed behind to catch up on her typing, so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed by it the following week. When she heard the street door open she went through to the front office, and then stood stock still, though she wanted to leap across the room and hug Rennie tight. He looked smart in his peaked cap and uniform, and said, ‘Captain Stone at your service.’

‘Rennie? How wonderful to see you. Nobody is here, I’m afraid.’

‘You are.’

She took a step towards him. ‘Did your parents know you were coming home?’

He nodded. ‘I wanted to surprise you. I’m going to see my father and Cousin Ambrose at their club. I’m taking you out dancing tonight if you’ve got nothing else on. You won’t mind if Pamela and her friends come with us will you?’

She’d rather have Rennie all to herself, but realized his time was limited. She’d met Pamela a few times since their first meeting, mostly when she came into the office to visit Constance Stone. Expensively dressed, Pamela always sniffed when she saw her and said something meaningful and obvious, like, ‘You’re still here then?’ or ‘Still hanging on?’

‘Don’t you work?’ Meggie asked her once, to which Pamela answered, ‘I don’t need to. Daddy pays me an adequate allowance.’

Meggie suspected Rennie had been posted abroad and would be leaving soon, but she wouldn’t tell Pamela or Constance that.

‘I can pick you up at seven and we’ll go to one of the services clubs.’ His smile sent her heart thudding. ‘Aren’t you going to give me a hug, Mags?’

He made it easier for her to overcome her sudden shyness by holding out his arms. Two steps forward and she was in them, her cheek against the rough material of his greatcoat, his breath sifting through her hair.

‘How are you getting on in the job?’ he asked the top of her head.

Tilting her head back she gazed up at him. ‘It’s a mad scramble, but the silks are terribly awe-inspiring, and sometimes they’re mean to me, but I love it. I’m learning such a lot.’

He laughed. ‘My mother seems impressed by your intellect. She said that anyone who can handle the silks like you do, gets her vote.’

‘I’m being voted on?’

‘I’m her only son . . . of course you are. She thinks there’s something going on between us. They all do. On that my parents disapprove.’

She gave an exasperated little whuffle. ‘I told them we’re just friends on the day I started work here.
Honestly
!’ Her face heated a little. ‘Actually I like your mother a lot, and your father. You’re very much like him . . . a bit on the serious side but with a soft centre. Besides, you’ve made it clear that you’re not on the menu so I’ve reinforced your belief that I’m too young for you by falling in love with Cousin Ambrose instead.’

He laughed. ‘Don’t tell him because he can be incredibly conceited at times.’

‘That’s half his charm.’

He kissed the end of her nose then let her go. ‘I’ll walk you to the bus stop? I’m going that way.’

‘Thanks, Rennie. Just let me put these papers next to the filing cabinet for Ella and get my coat. You can lock the back door if you would. Remind your father that he’s due at the Bailey early on Monday. Tell him to go straight there and I’ll meet him there with everything he needs.’

‘Goodness, you are efficient.’

They talked until the bus came, skirting around the subject of the war, though the havoc it caused was plain to see all around them. ‘I’ll see you later,’ he said, when the bus rumbled to a stop.

I could easily love you because you’re kind and nice, even if you are a bit boring, she thought, and smiled at him. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Hey Juliet . . . are you getting on the bus or waiting for it to turn into a balcony so Romeo can propose?’

‘Sorry.’ Meggie leaped on to the platform when the bell pinged for the driver to carry on. She hung on to the pole and waved to Rennie, who blew her a kiss.

‘Gentleman friend, is he?’ the conductor chatted while Meggie took her seat.

‘Not yet. He’s waiting for me to grow up.’

‘The very idea. Tell him from me that if he waits too long someone else will snatch you from the cradle . . . and then he’ll be sorry. He’s not a bad looking sort, at that. A bit old for you though I would have thought, love.’ She moved up the aisle of the bus with a cackle of laughter.

Would Rennie be sorry? Meggie wondered, and then she grinned. Nobody was twisting his arm to take her out . . . certainly not her.

When she arrived home the house was still empty, and it was almost dark. She still got a jittery nervous feeling entering the house when it was unoccupied, and she knew her aunt did. It was as if someone was lurking there watching them.

But then, if she couldn’t see who that someone was, then they certainly couldn’t see her either. Such reasoning failed to reassure her imagination that her logic took precedence.

She reached for the torch they kept on the hall table and followed its thin beam, skittering across the hall into the kitchen, where she drew the blackout curtains across and switched the light on with a sigh of relief.

There was a menu on the table for first in.
Toad in the hole. Cabbage, two carrots and mashed potato. Boil enough cabbage and potato for bubble and squeak tomorrow. Bread pudding with an apple and a handful of sultanas sliced in, and Ideal milk, for pudding.

She set the table, prepared the batter and cut up three sausages for the toad-in-the-hole. Cabbage was plentiful in the garden at the moment.

Putting sixpence in the gas meter slot she ran herself a shallow bath; knelt in the warm water and washed her hair before sponging herself all over.

She was in her dressing gown when Leo and Esmé came home.

‘Rennie’s coming for me at seven. We’re going dancing at a services club. You can come as well if you like.’

Esmé grimaced. ‘My feet are killing me. I’ve delivered three babies, all boys, and they all decided to arrive one after the other.’

‘I’ll swap your aching feet for my rump,’ Leo said. ‘I had a couple of heavy landings today. All I want to do is lie on the settee in front of the fire and listen to some nice soothing music. That’s all the dancing I’m doing.’

‘I’ll do your hair for you after dinner, Meggie Moo,’ Esmé said. ‘Dinner smells nice. You must have got home early.’

‘It was a quiet day. You look tired, Es.’

‘I’ll be all right as soon as I’ve had a cup of tea. After dinner I’m going to rest and allow Leo to give me a foot massage.’

Leo grinned at that. ‘My pleasure, madam.’

Meggie wore a blue satin blouse borrowed from her aunt, with a pleated navy skirt. She pinned the brooch Rennie had given her to the shoulder. Her hair fell in soft curls after Esmé had used the heated tongs on it.

Rennie arrived on time. He helped her into her overcoat, saying, ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to walk, unless we can find a cab. It’s not far, about half an hour.’

The services club was packed, but Pamela and her companions had got there early and had a table. The merriment was in full swing with the band playing the latest tune and everyone dancing. Pamela’s escort was a man of about forty, a bank manager. They bickered with each other a lot, which was a bit uncomfortable for the rest of them, but they were otherwise friendly.

It was nearing eleven when the sirens began to sound a warning. There was a scramble to get into their coats and hurry to the nearest air raid shelter. Some went down to the cellars, while others hurried on to the street, heading for the nearest underground station, where a warden blew his whistle and shepherded the crowds inside with some urgency. Pamela and her escort had gone in the opposite direction after bidding them a hasty goodnight.

The first crump of the bombs exploding in the distance, the throbbing of the bombers and the searchlights piercing the night sky with their beams was heart-stopping. They went down into the station. It was crowded with families, children asleep, head to toe, guarded by parents who, rightly of wrongly, couldn’t bear to be parted from their offspring in the early push for evacuation.