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  ‘I don’t know. Lena didn’t tell us, but maybe she had never been told herself.’ Anne lapsed into a morose silence.

  To take her mother’s mind off the tragedy, Renee said,

  ‘Will I put the kettle on, Granny?’

  ‘Aye, lassie, please. It’s hard for me nae to be able to dae things for mysel’.’

  It was most unusual for Maggie to be sorry for herself, so Renee said quickly, ‘It’s a good thing you’ve got Granda.’

  ‘Aye.’ Her grandmother smiled again. ‘I dinna ken what I’d dae withoot him, the auld gommeril.’

  Peter was still out shopping when they came away, so Anne knew that he must be feeling better, like her mother had said, and her anxiety about his health eased a little. ‘I shouldn’t have told Granny about Bill,’ she said suddenly.

  ‘It just upset her. I should have had more sense.’

  ‘No, Mum. She should know. It’s just life – or, rather, death.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  On Sunday morning, Renee brushed out her mother’s hair and combed it into place, the curls now looser and softer round Anne’s face, the odd strand of grey adding character.

  ‘It really suits you, Mum. Watch when you’re putting on your jumper, though, in case you knock it all flat.’

  ‘What a fuss.’ Anne felt that she ought to protest a little, although she was quite enjoying the attention.

  At four o’clock, when Fred Schaper arrived, he was carrying a large bunch of flowers, which he handed shyly to Anne.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Fred.’ She turned pink with pleasure.

  ‘It’s the first time anybody’s ever given me a bouquet. I’d better put them in water straight away.’ Her voice was high and breathless as she went into the scullery.

  Renee giggled. ‘You’ve put her in a flap.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to do that.’ Fred seemed quite worried.

  ‘It’s all right. She loved it. You got back to the Battery on Wednesday without any problems, I suppose?’

  ‘No trouble at all. Your mother gave me instructions and I couldn’t go wrong. A very capable lady, your mum.’

  ‘She’s had a lot of practice looking after people.’

  ‘I could see that. Ah, that looks good.’ He looked approvingly at the vase Anne carried through, the blooms nicely arranged. ‘So do you,’ he added softly.

  Her pink cheeks turned a deep crimson, and Renee felt elated. This was all going to work without any help from her, by the look of things.

  The conversation ranged from food rationing to keeping boarders, from life in the regular army in peacetime to life in the army during the war, and Renee was content just to listen, putting in an occasional word or two to remind them that she was there. They did seem to need reminding. Her mother and Fred were so engrossed in finding out as much as they could about each other that the girl could almost hear the wedding bells ringing.

  At a quarter to six, Anne said, ‘Come and help me to dish up, Renee. I think I heard the girls coming in a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Let me help, too.’ Fred followed them into the scullery and carried some of the items through to the dining-room table.

  ‘This makes me feel really at home,’ he smiled, sitting down only after all the others were seated.

  ‘I’m sorry there’s no meat,’ Anne apologised. ‘We don’t get very much, so we have to have meatless days. This is a vegetable pie – the girls keep me supplied with the veggies.’ She beamed at the land girls, who were reasonably quiet for a change, sensing, perhaps, that this serviceman was different, someone special to their landlady. Anne pointed to each one in turn, as she introduced them. ‘Flora and Kitty – they’re downstairs – and Hilda and Nora are upstairs. Girls, this is Sergeant Schaper.’

  ‘It’s RSM Schaper,’ Renee butted in. ‘That’s Regimental Sergeant Major, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s Fred,’ he laughed, and tackled his pie with gusto. After a few minutes, he looked round him. ‘You’re a lucky lot having a billet like this. I only wish we were so lucky in the army.’

  Flora nodded. ‘Yes, Mrs G.’s a gem.’ She laughed delightedly. ‘Gee whizz, I’ve gone all alliterative in my old age. G.’s a gem. Jar of jam. Jelly and junket . . .’

  The other girls joined in, the challenge of the game overcoming their reserve with the man.

  ‘Just a jiffy,’ Kitty squealed.

  ‘Jack and Jill.’ Hilda looked for approval.

  Fred was laughing loudly now. ‘Jumping Jehosophat!’ he said.

  Renee added her contribution. ‘Jumpers and jerseys.’ Nora, the quiet one, had been thinking furiously, and came out with ‘Judge and jury.’

  Flora got to her feet and motioned them to be silent. They watched her as she put her fingertips together and bowed her head. ‘Gentle Jesus!’ she boomed in a deep voice, then sat down with a thump amid hearty applause.

  ‘Oh, stop it,’ begged Anne. ‘You’re giving me the jim-jams.’

  Everyone laughed uncontrollably except Nora, who innocently asked, ‘What’s the jim-jams?’ causing Kitty and Flora to hold on to each other in hysterical mirth.

  Hilda spluttered, ‘Mrs G. was just saying something to fit in, you dumpling.’

  Fred was the first to recover. ‘I think we’ve had enough hilarity. Let’s get back to the serious business of doing justice to this beautiful meal. Home cooking’s what I miss most of all.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose army food isn’t very good.’ Anne wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.

  ‘It’s not all that terrible, really, but nothing like this. Your pastry just melts in the mouth.’

  ‘It’s not too bad,’ Anne said modestly, veiling the pleasure she felt at his compliment. Fred began asking questions about the work in the market gardens, and the four girls chattered away until the meal was over.

  ‘We’ll wash up for you, Mrs G.,’ Flora said. ‘That’ll let you entertain your visitor.’

  ‘No, no. Off you go, we’ll manage fine.’ Anne poured another cup of tea for Fred.

  ‘You’re spoiling me,’ he laughed.

  ‘You deserve it.’ Anne turned to her daughter. ‘Right, Renee, we’ll get the dishes done. Take your cup into the living room, Fred, we won’t be long.’

  ‘No, I can’t let you do all the work. You did the cooking.’ He emptied his cup and started piling dishes on to the tray.

  ‘You can wash, Renee, and I’ll wipe.’

  ‘No, Fred.’ Anne tried to wrest the tray away from him.

  ‘You’re a visitor. Renee and me . . .’

  ‘Look, Mum.’ Renee stood up. ‘I’ll settle it. You two can do the dishes, and I’ll go up and tidy out the chest of drawers. You’ve been at me long enough to do it.’

  When she was climbing the stairs, she could hear them laughing as they carried everything out of the dining room across the hall. A promising beginning. The four girls went out shortly afterwards, and the whole house was suddenly silent. About twenty minutes later, Anne came into the attic bedroom. ‘Fred’s suggesting that the three of us should go out for a walk. Are you nearly finished here?’

  Although she’d pushed the last tidy drawer back into place a second earlier, Renee shook her head. ‘I’ve still a couple of drawers to do. Go by yourselves, I’ll be finished by the time you get back.’

  ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind?’ Anne took her coat out of the old wardrobe.

  As soon as she heard the front door closing, Renee lay down on top of her bed. She had acted Cupid to the best of her ability, and it was up to them now.

  An hour and a half elapsed before Anne and Fred returned, by which time Renee was downstairs listening to the wireless.

  ‘It’s a lovely night.’ Anne looked blissful. ‘You should have come with us.’

  The girl noticed her mother’s bright sparkling eyes
. ‘I think you enjoyed your walk better without me playing gooseberry,’ she teased.

  ‘You know,’ Fred remarked, grinning, ‘I believe you’re right.’

  Anne blushed. ‘We went down to the Westburn Park, then across the road into the Victoria Park, then home. We’ve done quite a bit of walking, and I’m desperate for a cup of tea.’

  Left alone with Fred, Renee commented on the difference between the two parks. ‘The Westburn Park’s all right, really, with the burn running through it, and swings for kids. The Victoria Park’s smaller, but nicer, I always think.’ It was a pity that it held such shameful memories for her, she reflected ruefully, and she hadn’t ventured into it for years. Giving herself a mental shake, she told him a rather risque´ joke which Sheila Daun had been laughing about a few days before.

  When they were drinking the tea that Anne brought through, Fred said, ‘I’ve a proposition to make. I want to show my thanks for this lovely afternoon and evening, so I’m inviting you both out for a meal. I’m on duty Wednesday, but any other night you’re free.’

  ‘It depends on Renee.’ Anne glanced at her daughter. All the girl’s nights that week were to be free. She’d spent all her money on the perm and the twinset, but she couldn’t say anything about that. ‘Mum, it’s good of Fred to include me in his invitation, but I’m sure it’s you he wants to take out, not me. Am I right, RSM?’ She winked to him quickly.

  He understood and played his part. ‘Spot on.’ Then he added, ‘But I’d be pleased to have you along.’

  ‘I’d rather not come, thanks just the same. Two’s company, but you make up your own mind, Mum.’

  Anne hesitated. ‘What would people say if they see me out with Fred on my own?’

  Renee threw up her hands. ‘For goodness sake! You were out with him on your own tonight. Anyway, you’ve been a widow for eight years, and Fred’s wife died five years ago, so there’s nothing anyone can say.’

  ‘That’s true, Anne.’ Fred touched her hand. ‘Please say yes, I really want to take you out.’

  Anne turned accusing eyes on her daughter. ‘You’re up to something, I can tell.’

  ‘I think she’s trying her hand at matchmaking,’ the man laughed. ‘And I’d say she’s doing a pretty good job, but we should manage the rest ourselves. Which night will it be, Anne?’ he coaxed.

  After a moment of struggling between shyness and her attraction to the man, Anne said timidly, ‘Thursday?’

  ‘Too long for me to wait.’

  ‘Tuesday, then?’ She was absolutely thrilled by the implied compliment.

  ‘That’s better. Now where do you want to go? You know more about the eating places in Aberdeen than I do.’

  ‘To be honest, I don’t. I’ve never once had a meal out in my whole life. Jim, my husband, always said he preferred my cooking, and after he died, I just couldn’t afford it.’

  Renee took the tray back to the scullery, to give them a chance to make their arrangements, and pottered about aimlessly for a short time after she’d rinsed out the cups and saucers. When she returned to the living room, Fred stood up.

  ‘I’ll have to go, I’m afraid.’ He dropped one eyelid slowly as he went past her. ‘Thanks for all your help, Renee.’

  ‘I’ll see you again, no doubt,’ she replied.

  She hoped that the attraction wasn’t entirely one-sided, but she didn’t really think it was. Her judgement was proved correct when Anne came back from seeing Fred out, her face glowing with happiness. ‘He really likes you, Mum.’

  ‘Do you think so? Isn’t he just asking me out to repay me for tonight’s meal, like he said?’

  ‘No, he’s not. He wants to start taking you out all the time, a blind man could see that. He fancies you.’

  Anne blushed. ‘I quite fancy him . . . Oh, Renee, am I being stupid, at my age?’

  ‘You’re just beginning to live again.’

  On Tuesday evening, Anne fluttered about getting ready to go out for her meal, until Renee said, ‘You’re going to be late, if you don’t watch yourself.’

  ‘I feel like a young girl going out on her first date,’ her mother said, nervously, smoothing her skirt over her hips.

  ‘Good luck, then.’ Renee shepherded her rather roughly into the hall. ‘Get your coat on, and go, for any sake.’

  At that moment, Flora Sims and Kitty Miller came out of their bedroom. ‘Ooh, Mrs G., you look ever so nice.’ Flora eyed her with admiration, and held up her hand with the thumb and forefinger touching, in a gesture of approval.

  Kitty beamed all over. ‘Are you going out on a date?’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ Renee said sharply, ‘and if she doesn’t hurry, she’ll miss the bus.’ She propelled her mother to the door.

  ‘We’re catching this one, too.’ Flora swung her bag over her shoulder. ‘Bye, Renee.’

  That was the first of many outings for Anne and Fred Schaper, and he became a regular visitor to the house, often spending the night on the settee if he didn’t have to be on duty early the following day.

  After three weeks, Anne decided that it was time to tell her mother what was going on. ‘I’ve been going out with a sergeant in the Royal Artillery,’ she said tentatively, as soon as she and Renee were seated in the flat.

  Maggie’s eyes widened in surprise, but her voice was not unkind. ‘An’ where did ye meet him?’

  Renee stepped in, to save her mother the embarrassment of explaining. ‘I told you about him, remember? He saw me home one night from a cafe, because he didn’t like the idea of a young girl the same age as his daughter having to walk home in the blackout.’

  ‘His daughter?’ The old lady pursed her lips. ‘He’s a married man, is he?’ There was a hint of disapproval in her voice now.

  ‘He’s a widower,’ Anne said quickly. ‘Renee took him in for a cup of tea, and I felt so sorry for him I asked him back on the Sunday for a proper meal. Then he asked me out to repay me, and that’s how it started.’

  ‘An’ how lang’s this been goin’ on?’

  ‘Three weeks now. Fred’s a gentleman, Mother, and hasn’t done anything out of place.’ Anne sounded anxious to convince her.

  ‘Fred? What’s his last name?’

  ‘Schaper. He comes from Pirbright, near Aldershot, and he’s in the regular army. Do you think I shouldn’t go out with him?’ Anne waited. She desperately wanted her mother’s approval, so that she could feel easier about her new friendship.

  Maggie laughed. ‘Ye dinna need to ask my permission, Annie. Ye’re auld enough to ken what ye’re daein’, an’ to mak’ up yer ain mind aboot it.’ Her daughter’s rather disappointed face made her add, ‘But it’s time ye had some enjoyment in yer life.’

  Anne smiled. ‘Thanks, Mother. There’s nothing serious in it, but it’s nice to have a male companion for a change.’ Renee looked earnestly at her grandmother. ‘Fred is nice, I can vouch for that. I think you’d like him.’

  ‘An’ what aboot yersel’? Is there a nice man in your life?’

  ‘Not at the moment, but I’m living in hope.’

  ‘Is Father still keeping well?’ Anne asked.

  Maggie frowned. ‘Nae that great. He’s got a real bad cough, but he winna gi’e up the pipe . . . mind you, I like the smell o’ his Bogey Roll.’

  ‘Make him see the doctor if it doesn’t clear up,’ Anne advised. ‘He shouldn’t let a cough run on.’

  ‘Och, I’d be as weel speakin’ to that table there as tell yer father to go to the doctor.’ Maggie laughed and the talk reverted to the usual catechism about Anne’s boarders, past and present.

  Jack Thomson’s next visit made Renee resolve to stop considering him as anything more than a very good friend. She felt her heart stir at the sight of him and his dear ‘cow’s lick’, but, if he cared for her at all – only a tenderness she caught in his eyes once or twice su
ggested that he did – he would try to spend more time with her, not just a couple of hours on his way to Peterhead.

  Anne, eternally hopeful, left them alone while she prepared the tea, but Jack spoke only of episodes in North-umberland, where he was stationed now.

  At the table, Kitty Miller showed him her engagement ring. ‘I was hooked first, lover-boy,’ she laughed. ‘Though I can’t understand why you’re still footloose and fancy free.’ Jack grinned and tapped his nose with his forefinger. ‘I have my moments, but I haven’t been caught yet.’ Although she laughed along with the others, Renee wasn’t at all amused. This must be his way of letting her know that he was no longer interested in her, and it hurt. He helped to clear the table and dried the dishes for her, while Anne went through to the living room, shutting the scullery door behind her. Renee thought, wistfully, that her mother had more faith than she had, and a small vestige of hope flickered in her heart. Doing her best to sound casual, she asked, ‘Do you have any girlfriends just now?’

  ‘A few.’ He was smiling, but his eyes seemed to be riveted on the plate he was drying. ‘It’s great to be free to have a good time with whoever you like, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Renee said, quickly. ‘I feel just the same.’

  A full minute passed before he said, quietly, his head still averted, ‘You’ll be keeping yourself for Fergus, of course.’

  This enraged her, and her dashed hopes made her snap.

  ‘For God’s sake, Jack, how often do I have to tell you? It was all over between Fergus and me nearly two years ago. I’ve never seen him since, and I don’t want to ever see him again.’

  ‘Where is he just now?’ he asked, softly.

  ‘He was in the Middle East the last I knew, but I don’t care. The further away, the better.’

  ‘Yes?’ Jack’s scepticism was so evident that she could have slapped him. ‘He must have written to you if you know where he is.’

  ‘It’s no good speaking to you, Jack Thomson,’ she said, hotly. ‘You don’t believe me, whatever I say.’ What was the point of explaining to him that it had been Jeanette Morrison who had found out where he was, and that Jeanette had borne his child? Jack was just as obsessed by the certainty that Renee still loved Fergus, as she’d been by the certainty that Fergus loved her – until he proved that he didn’t. The air was alive with tension, and she set each dish on the draining board with a thump, which did nothing to ease either her feelings or the situation.