Primrose Square (17 page)

‘He's a house painter.'

‘And what's he like?'

Elinor moved uneasily, unwilling to talk of Barry, but aware she must. ‘He's friendly, he's cheerful. He plays the piano.'

‘Talented, then?'

‘Yes, but his real interest is football. He's very good at football.'

‘A footballer?' Stephen gave another short, hard laugh. ‘Well, I'd never have stood a chance against him, would I? Without doubt, I was the worst who ever played football at Heriot's. Always the last to be chosen for a team, always dreading match days. Oh, you'll be very happy with a footballer, Elinor!'

‘Stephen, I'm so sorry I've hurt you. You don't know how sorry. I never wanted things to be like this, never, you must believe me!'

‘You had such high hopes,' he murmured. ‘Such a longing to do well, find a better life for yourself. And you could have had it, you know. I don't just mean with me. You could have found a good job, had a career – but you're going to throw it all away, aren't you?'

‘No! No, I'm still the same, still want the same. Why, I don't even know if I'll even see this man again.'

‘Oh, yes, you will, nothing is clearer than that. You'll see him again and that will be that. Nemesis.' Stephen turned aside. ‘Come on, it's growing dark, you're going to be late. I'll walk with you to Maule's Corner.'

Without speaking, they left the gardens and took their last walk together to Maule's Corner, from where they had made in the past so many bittersweet farewells. But this farewell was different.

‘Will you be coming next week?' Stephen asked. ‘It's the last class, as you know.'

‘I don't think so.'

‘I'll send you your reference, then. Care of the Club.'

‘Oh, don't!' she cried, and burst into tears. ‘Don't be nice and reasonable!'

‘Nice?' He shook his head. ‘Don't worry, Elinor, I'm not being nice. You came to my course, it's fair you should have a testimonial, the same as everyone else. But I have no nice or reasonable feelings for you. I can say I hope all goes well for you, but I'm very glad you aren't coming to my class next week. I really don't want to see you again.'

With that, he touched his hat and left her, walking fast, not looking back, and after a long moment she turned and made her way to the club, walking blindly, not caring if she was late or not, or if anyone saw her tears. In fact, luck was with her. Miss Ainslie had not yet locked up, Mattie and Gerda were busy mending their stockings and took no notice of her, which meant she could slip into the maids' bathroom and put cold water on her eyes. As for the pain of her remorse, she just had to bear it. There was nothing else to do.

Thirty-Two

It took a while for Elinor to get over that last scene with Stephen, but then she'd never expected to escape lightly from what she'd done. Guilt was her burden and must somehow be borne, which meant she would make no move to seek out Barry Howat, and was relieved when he made no effort to see her.

Stephen had said she was in love with Barry, and perhaps she was, but she really tried not to think of him. She felt bad enough, anyway, especially when her reference from Stephen arrived and she saw how good it was. Tears came swiftly to her eyes, but she'd already decided not to use it. Looking for a new job without his blessing – she hadn't the heart. She put it away, together with the lovely silk scarf he had given her, and decided just to keep on working at the club until she felt better.

Mattie asked her once, very sympathetically, what had happened to her young man, now that her classes were finished? He'd looked so nice, Ada had said. Quite the gentleman. They'd all been very pleased for her. Well, except Mrs Petrie, of course, but then she didn't know about him.

‘All over,' Elinor replied after a moment or two.

‘Oh, no! Oh, Elinor, what a shame! What happened?'

‘We just said goodbye. These things happen.'

‘He didn't want to pop the question?'

‘I didn't want him to.'

‘Oh, well, then.' Mattie's look was wary. ‘Mebbe you had to say goodbye. There's sure to be someone else, though. Plenty of good fish in the sea, as they say.'

‘For you, too.'

‘Aye, I'd best cast the net out!' Mattie retorted, laughing merrily, and to Elinor's relief gathered up her dusters and led the way to their next round of cleaning.

Towards the end of April, on one of her Saturday afternoons at home, Elinor was finishing off doing some sewing for her mother, when Corrie came in, pulling on his jacket.

‘Just off,' he announced.

‘Where to?' asked Hessie.

‘Football. Just another friendly at the school again. Season ends soon.'

Hessie's eyes had brightened.

‘Will that nice laddie be playing? Barry, the one who came here?'

‘He always plays.'

‘Elinor, what say you go with Corrie?' Hessie cried. ‘I'm sure that young man is sweet on you. He came seeking you, remember. So, why no' try to see him?'

‘I've hemming to finish on this sheet, Ma,' Elinor murmured, keeping her eyes on her work.

‘Och, give it here! I can do that any time. Now you put your hat on and go see Barry again. Your dad likes him, you ken, and that means a lot.'

‘If you're coming, come on then,' Corrie ordered, glancing at the clock over the range, and Elinor, slowly rising, put aside the sheet she'd been hemming and obediently put on her hat and her blue jacket. Seemed her actions had been taken out of her hands, she told herself, then shook her head. She knew she couldn't say that. She was ready to see Barry Howat again.

‘Different weather today from when I came before,' she remarked to Corrie as they walked through the streets in the pleasant spring air. ‘Remember how cold it was?'

‘Certainly do.' His light blue eyes on her were thoughtful.

‘Pity Dad couldn't have come as well. He never gets a Saturday afternoon off.'

‘Reckon we're better off without him today. Notice his mood? Some customer's annoyed him; he's looking pretty dark.'

‘He'll be over it by the time we get back. On the whole, he's been better lately.'

‘Plenty of room for improvement. Elinor, mind if I ask you something?'

‘Anything you like.'

‘Well, I was just wondering why you'd want to come to the football again. Is it just to see Barry Howat?'

Elinor hesitated. ‘Ma wants me to see him.'

‘Aye, but what do you want?'

‘Why these questions?'

‘Just interested. Barry's a charmer, all right, but I didn't think he'd be your cup o' tea.'

‘I don't know if he is or not. No harm in seeing him play football, though.'

‘Main thing is never to get serious. That way, you don't get hurt.'

‘You're the expert, eh? When did you take girls out?'

‘Hey, I've been out with one or two!'

‘And never got serious? I hope not, at your age.'

‘Never got serious. Never got hurt.'

‘I won't get hurt,' Elinor said tightly, not able to tell Corrie that she was hurt already, because she'd badly wounded someone else.

When they reached the football field, the rival teams were already assembled, and this time Elinor had no difficulty in picking out Barry Howat. There he was, slim, strong, in dark blue jersey and shorts, his brown hair blowing in the soft breeze of the day, his eyes going round the watching crowd. And spotting her.

She knew he'd seen her, even before he raised his hand, by the way he seemed to stiffen for a second or two, but then as she raised her own hand to wave, he had to turn away. The match was about to begin.

‘Think he'll get two goals again?' she asked Corrie, as calmly as possible.

‘Could do. He's been doing well lately. Just as long as he watches the ball and no' you.'

‘All that matters to him is the game.'

She didn't know if that was true, but she had a feeling that it was.

Certainly, Barry concentrated well enough to score in the first half. Only one goal, but so brilliant, it had Corrie jumping up and down and giving Elinor a full analysis of how it had been done, which didn't mean a lot to her. Much more important was that when the whistle went for half time, Barry came over to speak to her and Corrie.

He was breathing hard, his hair and face dark with sweat, his jersey damp and sticking to his body, but his hazel eyes were shining as they went from Corrie to Elinor, and finally rested on her.

‘You came, eh? That's grand, really grand. Never thought I'd see you here.'

‘I always watch the team play,' Corrie murmured.

‘Aye, but Elinor doesn't. Look, I've got to go but wait for me at the end, eh? Don't go away.'

‘We'll wait,' Elinor told him, and watched as he sped off, his feet moving as fast as on the pitch, his energy buzzing like something tangible.

‘You're right to call him Twinkle-Toes,' she remarked to Corrie, who said that yes, it was a joke name, but Barry was certainly quick on his feet. Georgie, too, but Elinor already knew that Georgie was but a pale shadow of his brother, always a step behind.

‘What's Bettina like?' Elinor asked. ‘I don't remember her from school.'

‘Well, she's two years older than Barry, so she'd be ahead of you at school. Looks after the lads and does some part-time work as well, I think.'

‘Seemingly, they're lucky to have her.'

‘Aye, but she's got a young man. What'll they do if she gets wed?' Corrie laughed. ‘Might have to learn to cook, eh? Unless they get wed themselves. Men have been known to marry for that very reason.'

Or other reasons, thought Elinor.

In spite of all Barry's efforts, that day his team lost and, at the end of the match, trooped disconsolately off to the school to wash and change and put a brave face on defeat. Elinor and Corrie were fearing the worst from Barry and Georgie, but when they appeared, it seemed they'd already put it behind them. The season wasn't over yet, they declared, and this was only a friendly – they'd do better in the remaining matches, no question.

‘Aye, if you make yourself a few more chances!' cried a small, dark-haired young woman wearing a red two-piece and a large red hat. ‘Isn't that right, Alfie? They just gave it away, eh?'

‘Just gave it away,' a tall, long-faced young man repeated, but Barry punched him lightly on the shoulder and told him to get playing himself, if he was so full of advice.

‘Here, Elinor!' he cried. ‘Come and meet my sister, Bettina, and her friend, Alfie Daniels. Bettina, Alfie – this is Elinor Rae. Think you know Corrie Rae, eh?'

‘Oh, we know Corrie,' Bettina answered, her hazel eyes as bright as Barry's, fastening on Elinor. ‘He always comes to the matches, the lovely laddie. But haven't seen you before, Miss Rae. What did you think of this lot then? Och, I was that disappointed!'

‘Canna win 'em all,' said Georgie. ‘Elinor did see us win when we played here before.'

‘Must come again, then. But how d'you come to know Barry, Miss Rae?'

‘Oh, please call me Elinor. We were at school together, then met again by accident.'

‘Fancy. I was at the same school, but a couple of years ahead. Well, we'd better be on our way. Who's coming back, then?'

‘I am,' said Georgie, but Barry was already at Elinor's side.

‘I'll walk back with Elinor and Corrie. Don't wait tea for me.'

‘Suit yourself.'

As the little group broke up to go their different ways, Bettina said something about maybe seeing Elinor again, but it seemed to Elinor that her manner was not particularly friendly. Of course, she could be imagining it, for why should Barry's sister not be friendly? Perhaps she was a bit of a tartar? Certainly looked as though she might be.

Turning to Barry, she asked if he'd like to come back to have tea at her mother's? He'd be very welcome.

‘If you're sure? I mean, it's a bit much, inviting myself.'

‘No, it'll be all right. I know she's got ham and cold stuff. There'll be plenty.'

‘But aren't you due back at work at six?' Corrie asked Elinor, at which she frowned and said there'd be plenty of time if they hurried.

‘Skates on!' Barry said cheerfully. ‘And when we've had our tea, I'll take you back to the club, Elinor.'

Thirty-Three

This he did, after a pleasant meal at the flat over the cobbler's shop, during which he charmed Hessie and Walter as easily as though he were a magician, while Corrie looked on without expression and Elinor's dark eyes were wide with wonder. Pleasing her mother was one thing, but her father, that was another! Still, Dad seemed to have got over his bad mood and when Barry and Elinor rose to go, urged Barry to come back and see them any time. Any time, now mind, and he'd be very welcome.

‘Thanks very much, Mr Rae, I might take you up on that,' Barry said politely, and after handshakes and thanks all round, he and Elinor escaped for the tram.

‘You don't know how much it meant to me to see you at the match,' Barry murmured, sitting close. ‘Never thought I'd see you again, after the way we parted.'

‘I did want to see you, Barry, but I didn't think I could.'

‘What happened, then?' He pressed her hand, made her look at him. ‘Something changed, eh? Must've done.'

‘I don't want to talk about it.'

She met his eyes, saw that they were sympathetic, but still looked away. It wouldn't be right, she felt strongly, that she should speak of Stephen to Barry.

‘All right, I understand. But try no' to worry too much, eh? If you said goodbye to him, you did the right thing. The right thing for both of you.'

‘You think so?'

‘Aye, it's obvious. There'd be no point in pretending you felt something you didn't. He'd soon have found out, and then you'd have hurt him, anyway.'