Time Shall Reap Page 22

  Before she left the tiny room, she smoothed her tartan skirt over her hips where it had wrinkled from sitting, and pulled her jumper down. Her bust was the only thing that she wasn’t happy with, but, hopefully, it would develop a bit more.

  She often wished that one of the store boys would ask her out – she was an ardent film fan and couldn’t afford to go as often as she wanted. After giving her mother five shillings for her board, and paying her bus fares, she was left with less than a shilling a week, and that had to cover make-up, toiletries and entertainment. She didn’t care for the sixpenny seats in the cinema – they were too near the screen and gave her a crick in the neck – so her visits were limited to the ninepennies, once every few weeks with her two female colleagues, who were in the same financial straits as she was.

  Only one boy was in the warehouse when she went in, not one of the good-looking ones, unfortunately, but she smiled sweetly anyway, and his reaction was gratifying. ‘Hiya, gorgeous! How about you and me getting together?’

  Assuming that he was only joking, she retorted, ‘No thank you, I’ve other fish to fry.’

  ‘We could go to the flicks.’ He sounded less flippant now.

  She didn’t really fancy going out with him, but the lure of seeing a film was too great to refuse. ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘See you at the Monkey House at seven. OK?’

  ‘OK.’ She returned to the office quite pleased, if a little apprehensive of what her parents would say if she told them she was going to the cinema with a boy. She would soon be seventeen, but they were so old-fashioned it might be best to let them believe she was going with Bunty and Ella as usual.

  When she set off the following evening, she hoped that she wouldn’t be first – the Monkey House was a popular meeting place and she didn’t want to have to wait. She wondered idly how it had got its name. Perhaps it was the stone pillars in front of the insurance offices that gave the impression of bars on a cage.

  Her escort was there before her, and handed her a paper bag. ‘Chocolate cubes,’ he said, off-handedly. ‘Is the Queen’s OK with you?’

  The Queen’s Cinema was cheaper than the big theatres, but it was showing ‘King Kong’ and she felt very grown up waiting in the foyer while he bought their tickets. ‘Your name’s Laura, isn’t it?’ he asked, as they walked through into the auditorium. ‘Mine’s Gordon.’

  She was uneasy when he led her into the back row, but lost her fears when they were watching the cartoon. They ate some of the chocolates while the B film, a Hopalong Cassidy, was showing, and had some more during the advertisements and the newsreel, because neither of them wanted to watch Hitler’s storm-troopers strutting into Austria, the country they had newly annexed. About five minutes into the main feature, she was conscious of Gordon’s hand sliding along the back of her seat but she gave all her attention to the picture, until a close-up of the huge gorilla made her move closer to the boy in terror.

  Encouraged, he put his arm round her shoulders, and it felt so comforting that she let it remain there. Once, his hand slid down and touched her breast – by accident, she innocently believed, and didn’t like to say anything – but she moved and offered him a chocolate and, although he took more care after that, the National Anthem came as quite a relief to her. She had enjoyed the show, but sitting close to this sweaty, spotty youth in a stuffy cinema was not her idea of pleasure, and she breathed the fresh air in deeply when they emerged on to the street.

  Fortunately, Gordon had no idea how she felt. ‘I’ll see you home – where do you live?’

  She couldn’t think of a way to put him off without making it obvious that he didn’t appeal to her, and he had taken her to the cinema, after all. ‘Woodlands Avenue. It’s on the eleven bus route, off King’s Gate.’

  At the bus stop, they giggled at the antics of several men who were still staggering drunkenly all over the pavement an hour after the public houses had closed at half past nine, but their laughter was brought to an abrupt halt when one man advanced towards them with his hands raised menacingly. Their bus arriving, they jumped aboard thankfully and left him mouthing obscenities on the kerb.

  Laura was quite glad after all that someone was seeing her home, even if it was only a drip like Gordon, because she felt a bit nervous after seeing ‘King Kong’. When they were walking past a small clump of trees – all that was left of the original wood which had given her street its name – Gordon steered her off the pavement and pushed her against one of the silver birches. Her heart pounded with fear. She had seen films where young girls were strangled in woods and left lying dead. Was this ...?

  Her eyes closed in panic as his hands moved from her waist to her neck, and she wondered if anyone would hear her if she screamed, but before she drew in enough breath to make the effort, his hot, clammy lips came down hard on her mouth and she tried to twist her head away.

  ‘You’ve never been kissed before, that’s for sure,’ Gordon said, as he forced her lips to meet his again.

  Pushing him away with all her strength, she was amazed when he stepped back and laughed. ‘I’ll let you go the rest of the way yourself, for I don’t want to be accused of kidnapping. It’ll be a while yet before you’re ready for picking, but you’ll be a real plum some day.’

  She ran along the street, puzzled as to what he had meant by his last remark, and her mother regarded her suspiciously when she went in. ‘You’re all flushed, Laura, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I ran all the way from the bus, that’s all.’

  ‘Where were you till this time of night, and who were you with?’ Elspeth persisted.

  The girl heaved a sigh. ‘Oh, Mum! Must you always give me the third degree? I was with Bunty and Ella and we went to see “King Kong”, but it was kind of scarey.’

  Looking up from his newspaper, David laughed. ‘You young things like to be scared, though, don’t you?’

  ‘You and Mum had been the same when you were my age.’

  ‘I never saw any pictures when I was your age,’ Elspeth said, sadly. ‘There was nothing like that in Auchlonie.’

  Laura went to bed, reflecting as she undressed how easy it was to deceive her parents. She could guarantee that neither of them had ever kept secrets from the other – straight as a die, both of them. Anyway, she wouldn’t have to tell any more fibs, because she didn’t intend to go out with another boy for a long time. Tonight was enough. If it had been a boy she’d fancied, somebody nice, it might have been different. Clark Gable or Tyrone Power, for instance, wouldn’t have made her flesh creep in disgust. A kiss should be thrilling and pleasurable to both sides, and she hadn’t met anyone yet that she’d be happy to allow that privilege.

  One of her childish fantasies had been John Watson kissing her, but she hadn’t seen him since he began to work at Henderson’s, the engineering firm – he had been an errand boy until he was sixteen and was now an apprentice plumber and electrician – but she could remember how hurt she had been when he started going down town every Saturday afternoon to meet some of his workmates. She had carried on going out to play with the other children in Quarry Street to show him that she didn’t care, and the boys of her own age hadn’t teased her like John and his pals had.

  Even James Watson had been much friendlier when he came on holidays. He’d sat by the side of the burn with her and told her of his ambition to join the Navy, but when he had left school Margaret and Donald had been against it, so he was working in the store of some pharmaceutical firm now. Yes, James had been quite nice, but he was too far away. Still, Laura thought, turning over to settle for sleep, there must be someone who would make her heart beat faster, but maybe she wasn’t ready for love yet. That was probably what the obnoxious Gordon had meant.

  At the end of September, when the newreels showed Neville Chamberlain waving a piece of paper and saying ‘Peace in our time’, the older men in Laura’s office were sceptical. ‘He shouldn’t trust Hitler,’ Mr Steele announced. ‘Even his Youth Movement’s just a front t
o teach boys to fight – a back-up to his army.’

  Mr McDonald added his twopence-worth. ‘He’s power mad.’

  Their doubts were intensified in a few months. ‘I see Schickelgruber’s done it again.’ Mr Steele’s deep voice was doom-laden.

  ‘Schickelgruber?’ Laura asked, never having heard the name before. ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘Hitler, you dope,’ sneered the fourteen-year-old office boy. ‘That’s his real name.’

  Ignoring them, the chief clerk continued. ‘It said on the wireless this morning he’s invaded Czechoslovakia now, after that agreement with Chamberlain. I can bet my boots it’ll be Britain next.’

  The office boy grinned. ‘If there is a war, I’m going to join up as soon as I’m old enough.’

  Mr McDonald, an old soldier himself, turned on him. ‘If you ever do have to go into the army, laddie, you won’t think it’s so bloody marvellous.’

  Fred, a young clerk, snorted. ‘You and Mr Steele are just a couple of scare-mongers. There’ll never be another war.’

  This completely dispelled Laura’s growing uneasiness. Fred was more up-to-date, and had a good grasp of current affairs. What did these old fogeys know, for goodness’ sake?

  The murmurings of war reminded David of the things he had tried to forget. The horror of Ypres and the later battle in the fields near Moeuvres, in which he had been so badly wounded that he had almost lost a leg, came back to haunt his dreams. With his mind in such a state of instability, the presence of the grandfather clock in the hall revived his old jealousy and he began to taunt Elspeth again; just small, snide remarks at first, but enough to alarm her. She had thought he had got over it, but now she realized that his obsession about her first love had merely been lying in abeyance. At first the sneers had followed his nightmares, but now they occurred at any time and she dreaded him coming home each night, spending her Sundays in constant fear of another direct accusation.

  It came one evening, as he stormed into the living room. ‘I see you’ve been polishing John Forrest’s clock again?’

  ‘It has to be polished sometimes,’ she said, praying that would be the end of it.

  ‘And you just love doing it, don’t you?’ His top lip had curled. ‘I suppose you imagine you’re stroking his body.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid.’ Although she was angry, she kept her voice down to avoid annoying him further.

  ‘It’s not stupid. I know how your mind works.’

  ‘My mind was just on keeping the clock looking nice, for it would soon look neglected if I didn’t polish it.’

  ‘He didn’t neglect you, though, did he? I’m sure he kept you satisfied, not like me.’

  The last little barb incensed her, for his lovemaking had deteriorated into a quick five minutes once a month, if that, and she burst out, ‘No, he didn’t neglect me though we didn’t have long enough together before he was killed, but the time I was with him was the best I ever had in my ...’ Stricken with remorse, she whispered, ‘I’m sorry, David. I shouldn’t have said that, but you got me so riled, I couldn’t help it.’

  ‘So we’ve got at the truth at last?’ His eyes had narrowed to slits. ‘You’ve always been comparing me with him, haven’t you, and it seems I fell short of your expectations.’

  ‘No!’ she exclaimed, in dismay. ‘You’re all wrong, David! I never compared you ... I never thought about him at all ... not when we were ... um ... making love.’

  ‘So you did think about him at other times?’

  ‘Oh, you’re getting me so muddled, I don’t know what I’m saying. I did love John Forrest ... I never kept it a secret from you ... but it’s you I love now, it’s you I’ve loved for nearly twenty years. I swear that’s the truth, David. I never think about him at all except when you fling him in my face. Can’t you understand that?’

  He had cooled down now. ‘I suppose I do keep reminding you. I don’t mean to hurt you, but thinking about him touching you makes me ... oh, God, I’m sorry, Elspeth. That’s why I can’t bring myself to ... I keep wondering if you’re thinking of him when I’m ...’ He gave his head a violent shake. ‘I know I’m silly, but I can’t help it.’

  Going to him, she slid her arms round his neck. ‘Put it out of your head, David, for it’s not true. When you’re ... loving me, it’s you I think of, nobody else. I want you to love me, and I’m satisfied with you ... I’m more than satisfied with you, my dear.’

  Giving a choking sob, he buried his head in her hair. ‘I’m sorry, Elspeth. It’s this mind of mine, it gets so twisted I can’t think straight.’

  ‘I know,’ she whispered, then after a minute, she said, ‘I’ll sell the clock, if that’s what bothers you.’

  ‘No, I don’t want you to sell it. It’s not really the clock at all, it’s just ... it’s just me.’

  That night, he fulfilled her as he had not done for some time, and she lay back happily after it was over, reflecting that he couldn’t help being the way he was. As he had said himself, his mind got twisted, and was it any wonder, after what he had gone through in the last war? It was hard for her to put up with his moods, but she still loved him, in spite of them. Maybe she should sell the clock, but it would likely make no difference, and could easily make him more annoyed at his own shortcomings. Thank God he didn’t know about young John, for if he ever found out, he might go over the edge altogether.

  But there was no likelihood of his ever finding out ... not after all this time.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  After the invasion of Poland, the Fullertons, like most families in Britain on Sunday, 3rd September 1939, gathered round their wireless set at 11 a.m. to listen to the Prime Minister’s special broadcast, and at the concluding words David and Elspeth looked at each other in anguish. It was excitement, however, that surged up in Laura at knowing she was living through history. Even the King himself would be listening to the same thing.

  ‘You’d think they’d have learned something from the last war,’ David said, quietly, recalling the slaughter he had seen on the battlefields, ‘but now there’ll be more bloody carnage.’

  ‘It won’t be so bad this time.’ Elspeth tried to take his mind off the event that still haunted his dreams. ‘We’re more prepared, so it should be over a lot quicker than the last one. Four years was a long time.’

  Her initial thrill past, Laura kept silent, wondering how a war would affect her, and she came to the conclusion that it could make little difference. Her father’s bad leg would stop him from having to fight again and, anyway, he was too old for the army now. Nothing would change.

  At Quarry Street, Jimmy Watson muttered, ‘We should never have settled for an armistice in 1918, we should have finished the bloody Jerries properly when we’d the chance. I only hope the Americans’ll come in a bit earlier than they did the last time.’

  John shook his head. ‘Look, Dad, the British Forces are the best in the world. It might take a few months – even a year or two – but we’ll win, with or without the Yanks.’

  Helen added a pinch of salt to the flour in her baking bowl. ‘Thank God you’re too old to go, Jimmy, and they’ll start making munitions at Henderson’s again, and you’ll be needed there, John, so you’ll not be called up.’

  John looked at her defiantly. ‘I’m volunteering.’

  ‘No, John, you can’t.’ Helen’s eyes filled with tears as she mixed the pastry for the steak and kidney pie. ‘There’s the regular army and the Territorials. They don’t need you.’

  ‘I’m not going into the army, Mum. This war’s going to be won from the air.’ John stood up, frowning. ‘I’m going out.’

  ‘The dinner’ll be ready at one, mind.’

  ‘I’ll be back.’ He closed the door with a bang.

  Helen turned to her husband. ‘Jimmy, could you not have said something? He might have listened to you.’

  Jimmy was on his feet now, taking the box of shoe brushes and polish from under the sink. ‘He’s twenty-four now, and he’ll do w
hat he wants. I’d have went myself the last time, if it hadn’t been for you, though I was near forty when it started. A man wants to prove himself, you see, but ... ach, well, Donald went instead.’ Dabbing a brush into the small tin, he applied Cherry Blossom to his working boots so that they would be black first thing on Monday though they would be whitish-grey again in about five minutes.

  When John made no further reference to volunteering over the next three weeks, Helen believed that he had changed his mind, but he came home one night and said, quietly, ‘I signed on for the Royal Air Force at dinner time. They said it shouldn’t be long before I get a medical then I’ll be notified where and when I’ve to report.’

  ‘Oh, no, John!’ Remembering Jimmy’s caution, Helen said no more – she would have to let him go. She had borne the worry of Donald during the last war, and no doubt she would come through this one, too, however anxious she was for John ... but the Air Force would be much worse than the Gordon Highlanders.

  Jimmy tried a little reasoning. ‘Have you thought about this enough, John? It’s all very well doing things on the spur o’ the minute, but you need to think about the dangers, and all. It’s not a piece o’ cake, you know.’

  ‘It’s up to all able-bodied men to fight for our country’s freedom – we can’t let the Nazis dictate to us.’

  ‘Well, lad, I only hope you’ll not live to regret it.’

  Helen’s only hope was that the young man would live, to regret it or not, but she served up the toad-in-the-hole and set his plate down in front of him with no comment.

  After tea, John said that he was going to see the Fullertons. ‘I bet David’ll be pleased about me going into the RAF.’

  His assumption was to be proved incorrect. Elspeth was appalled – was John destined to be killed in a war like his father? – but she couldn’t voice her fears. John must never know how much he meant to her ... and neither must her husband.

  David tried to make him change his mind. ‘You can say your parents wouldn’t let you go, it’s not too late.’