The Back of Beyond Page 5

  ‘Well, all I can say is – you’re nae a very good builder.’

  ‘D’you think so?’

  Alistair gave a serious nod, then smiled expansively. ‘I’m nae expert, but to my mind you should take things as they come. Warm them up, or whatever you want to call it, and when they’re ready, they’ll tell you.’

  ‘Oh, aye!’ Dougal was heavily sarcastic. ‘They’ll say, “Please Dougal, I’m ready for it now.” For God’s sake, Ally, ha’e some common sense.’

  ‘I said I wasna an expert.’

  This was the pattern for several weeks until, once again, Dougal seemed to draw a veil over his activities. ‘I think he’s had another setback,’ Alistair told Manny one morning. ‘He hasn’t said a word about his nights out for … oh, it must be a month now. Something must have upset him. Something really bad.’

  ‘He will not keep it from you for long, Alistair. I know you are worried about him, but he is a survivor. He will get over it, whatever it is.’

  Studying Dougal closely each time he came home from presumably seeing a girl, Alistair thought that he didn’t look at all downcast and came to the conclusion that he had got over it, as Manny had predicted. It was strange, though, that he didn’t want to discuss it. Letting another two weeks pass to see if Dougal would confide in him, give him a name and all the lurid details, Alistair finally summoned up the courage to ask.

  ‘You’re awful quiet about things these days,’ he observed, as Dougal was putting on his sports jacket. ‘Did you come up against another Amy, or somebody like that?’

  Dougal turned and looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I’ve turned over a new leaf.’

  Watching him fold his handkerchief and place it meticulously so that only a corner was peeping out of his breast pocket, it occurred to Alistair that his chum might be speaking the truth. ‘I wondered why you were keeping quiet about your conquests, but that’s the third night you’ve gone out this week, and you’ve made such a fuss about shaving, and brushing your hair with brilliantine, and taking ages to make up your mind what tie to wear. Have you met somebody special?’

  Dougal made sure that his Woolworth’s tiepin was straight before murmuring, rather bashfully, ‘Aye, this one’s special.’

  ‘Come on, then, spit it out. What’s her name?’

  ‘Marjory Jenkins, but she likes to be called Marge. She’ll be seventeen in September, and we’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now.’

  ‘So she’s only sixteen? I thought you’d learned a lesson about dating them so young.’

  ‘She’ll soon be seventeen and I’m nae eighteen till October, so that’s just about eleven month between us. That’s nae such a difference, is it? Anyway, I couldna help myself, Ally. She’s perfect! She’s got darker hair than mine, nearly black, and curlier, her eyes are a deeper brown, and her mouth … it’s a Cupid’s bow, perfect for kissing.’ Now that he’d started, Dougal couldn’t stop detailing the girl’s charms. ‘She’s a perfect figure, and all, though I haven’t laid a finger on her.’ He turned to look seriously at his chum. ‘Honest, Ally, I havena touched her. Oh, I’ve kissed her, hundreds of times, but … well, I think I love her. No, I do love her, and I’m not going to do anything to upset her.’

  Alistair was on the point of saying he’d got it bad when he realized that Dougal had got it bad, and it wasn’t fair to tease him. Instead, he said, meaning every word, ‘I hope it turns out OK for you this time.’

  ‘Thanks, Ally, but I’ll have to hurry. Mustn’t keep her waiting.’

  ‘Dougal’s fallen for this one,’ Alistair told Ivy when they were on their own. He had survived dozens of evenings with her by this time, and although she sometimes came out with suggestive remarks, she hadn’t actually done anything he could object to and he could usually laugh off what she said. ‘Her name’s Marge Jenkins, and she’s a bit young, to my idea. She’s not seventeen till September.’

  ‘So there’s not even a year between them? My Len’s four years older than me, and I was seventeen when he first asked me out.’

  ‘According to what Dougal said, Marge isn’t like you. I don’t mean any disrespect, Ivy, but he says he hasn’t tried anything with her, so I think she’s a bit prim and proper.’

  ‘Prim and proper?’ Ivy threw back her head with a loud burst of laughter. ‘You’re dead right there, Al! Nobody could ever have accused me of being prim or proper, and I wouldn’t have thought a girl like that would appeal to Dougal, though they do say opposites attract, don’t they?’

  When Dougal came in, much later, Alistair said, ‘Everything OK?’ Not that he needed to ask. His friend’s blissful expression said it all.

  ‘Everything’s perfect.’

  Alistair let this pass, although ‘perfect’ was the only word Dougal seemed to be able to come up with as far as Marge was concerned. ‘Does she work with you?’

  ‘Oh, no, she works in her father’s hotel in Guilford Street, off Russell Square.’

  This meant nothing to Alistair, who knew very little of the rest of London. ‘How did you meet her, then?’

  ‘I’d to deliver an account to her father, by hand because it was overdue for payment. It was Marge who opened the door, and I was bowled over. Just like that. Any road, she took the account to her father and came back to say he was busy and could I wait? She was standing so near me I could’ve reached out and pulled her against me, but I didn’t dare. Do you get that, Ally? I couldn’t. Anyway, there we were, looking at each other, and I thought, you’ve got the chance, ask her out before her father comes and throws a spanner in the works. So I blurted out, in my best English, “Would you care to come out with me some evening?” And that was it.’

  ‘She agreed?’

  ‘Well, her young sister came in with a signed cheque – Mr Jenkins does all the cooking and he was in the middle of doing something he couldn’t leave – and Marge told Peggy to go away, and then she said, “Tomorrow at seven? At the end of the street?” I’ve never felt like this about any other girl, Ally. Marge is definitely the one for me.’

  ‘I can’t understand why you didn’t tell me before.’

  ‘I thought you’d torment the life out o’ me, love at first sight and that sort of thing.’

  ‘I’d like to meet her sometime, to see what she’s like.’

  ‘To give your approval? That’s OK. I’ll ask her tomorrow to bring her sister with her on Saturday … she’s got two. The youngest’s still at school, that’s Peggy, Marge is the middle one, and I think she said the oldest, Gwen, was eighteen.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll fall for her instead,’ Alistair teased.

  ‘Never! But maybe you will.’

  ‘Not me. I’ve other things to think about; I’ve no time for girls.’

  This was perfectly true, for only that morning, Manny had given him something of a surprise. ‘I have had this dream for years,’ he had said while they were eating the sandwiches Ivy provided for her lodger and his boss. ‘I want to put aside the pawnbroker business some day, and open a watchmaker’s shop which will also offer new and antique jewellery for sale. Of course, my dream will have to wait until I can afford to get better premises, but it might be a good thing if I did a little scouting around to find some little items to start me off. Even if it could be years before I am in a position to open such a shop, I could be building up a stock for it. You are more or less confident about dealing with customers on your own, so I could start going round the markets. I am told that one can often pick up a good bargain from the stalls. What do you think, hmm?’

  ‘You’d trust me?’ Alistair gasped. ‘You’d leave me here on my own?’

  ‘Of course I trust you. Your face has been an open book to me since you first walked through that door … honesty, willingness to please, a wish to justify your wages by working as well as you can. In any case, I have nothing worth stealing at the moment – except the gold wrist watch Mrs Parker still brings in every Monday. But please do not think that I am taking advantag
e of you. I will increase your wages by five shillings because you will be in sole charge. I wish I could make it more, Alistair, but … perhaps some day soon, hmm?’

  On Saturday evening, on the way to Guilford Street on the underground, Alistair’s stomach was churning with anxiety at the thought of meeting Gwen Jenkins. If she was anything like Lexie Fraser had been, he’d be terrified of her, and if she was as prim and proper as her sister seemed to be, he wouldn’t know what to say to her, and Dougal would be too taken up with Marge to pay any attention to him.

  His heart sank when he saw them – one a short but beautiful brunette who must be Marge, and the other a tall, elegant, model-like redhead who looked as if she would wipe the floor with him if he stepped out of line. God, this was going to be an evening he’d never forget … but not for any of the right reasons.

  Before Dougal could make the introductions, Marge said, ‘Gwen was sorry she couldn’t come. She fell downstairs this morning and sprained her ankle. This is Petra, an old school friend I ran into yesterday, and she agreed to step in.’

  The redhead inclined her head stiffly to Dougal, but when Marge said, ‘Petra, this is Alistair, your date,’ she turned her heavily mascara’d eyes to him, then silently slid her arm through his. They walked to Hyde Park, and because there wasn’t room to go four abreast on the pavements, they split up into couples, much to Alistair’s embarrassment, although he consoled himself by thinking it would be different in the Park. It wasn’t. Dougal and Marge were oblivious of anyone else, strolling hand-in-hand and looking into each other’s eyes so often it amazed Alistair that they didn’t bump into something … or somebody. With Petra – it had to be a fancy name – glued to his arm, he plodded on with a heavy heart.

  They took the bus back, and about two stops before they were due to get off, Petra jumped up. ‘This is my stop!’ She made a dive for the stairs and had jumped off the moving vehicle before Alistair took in what was happening. He turned round to Dougal in dismay. ‘She should have said … I didn’t know … I thought we’d all get off together.’

  Marge smiled. ‘Petra was always a queer fish. That’s why I never kept in touch.’

  ‘She didn’t enjoy herself, that’s one thing sure.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. Gwen’ll be able to come next time.’

  ‘I don’t think we should arrange a next time,’ he said, looking apologetic. ‘I’m not a great one for making conversation or anything like that. I’m not like Dougal.’

  ‘I felt awful,’ he told Manny the following day, ‘but Petra scared the pants off me.’

  The pawnbroker gave what was almost a snigger. ‘A rather inappropriate turn of phrase, don’t you think?’

  Alistair’s spells on his own extended from mornings only in the first few weeks to whole days, at the end of which Manny would return happily exhausted to show his ‘manager’ his latest acquisitions. Before putting them in his safe, he would spread them out on his counter and discuss each item with Alistair, asking his evaluation first and then pointing out good points or flaws in the precious stones, and soon the newly-eighteen-year-old was surprising himself as much as Manny by the accuracy of his assessments. He was also showing quite a talent for repairing even the oldest of the timepieces.

  A truly sheepish Dougal broke into his self-congratulatory ramblings one night some four months later. ‘I’ve asked Marge to marry me.’

  Alistair was stunned. During the evening of the foursome with the stuck-up Petra, he had gathered that Marge wasn’t the prim and proper type he had imagined, but a lively girl full of fun, and every bit as lovely as Dougal had said. ‘I didn’t know you were as serious as that about her,’ he murmured. ‘Did she say yes?’

  ‘She did that.’

  ‘But you can’t afford to keep a wife?’

  ‘I’ve been saving as much as I could since I started going with her, it’s near a year now, and I think I’ve enough to rent a cheap flat somewhere and furnish it.’

  ‘How the mighty are fallen,’ Alistair muttered, then shook his head. ‘No, don’t mind me. Marge is a real nice lass and I wish you both well. Congratulations.’

  After his next meeting with Marge, Dougal was not quite so elated. ‘She told her family she’d accepted my proposal and her father hit the roof. He said she was far too young to think about marriage, but he might agree to it when she’s eighteen – that’s near a year yet – as long as I ask him for his permission properly. I’ll have to ask him for her hand like he was a Victorian father. Did you ever hear the like?’

  ‘He’s making sure his daughter doesn’t marry some ne’er-do-well,’ Alistair pointed out, ‘and I’ve got to admire him for that.’

  Dougal snorted. ‘You would. Any road, he said he’d let her get engaged, though I didn’t want to have to put money out on a ring. The trouble is, if I don’t, he’ll think I’m a stingy blighter.’

  It was Manny who solved Dougal’s financial problem. After hearing of it from Alistair, he said, joyfully, ‘I picked up a beautiful ring at Balham market about a month ago, remember, and I only gave thirty shillings for it, as I recall.’

  Alistair was about to remind him that he had paid five pounds for it and it was worth much more, when it dawned on him that this was Manny’s way of helping Dougal. ‘Will I tell him to come and have a look at it?’

  ‘I do not wish to force him into anything, Alistair, so just make the suggestion.’

  Manny arranged to keep the shop open for an extra hour the next day to give Dougal time to get there after work, and during his sojourn round the stalls and second-hand shops, he picked up another two rings which he thought might be suitable.

  Scarcely able to believe his luck when he saw what Manny produced, Dougal gave all three rings his deepest consideration, although he returned several times to a delicate arrangement of two emeralds and one diamond. Neither Alistair nor Manny were at all surprised, therefore, when this was the ring he finally plumped for. ‘I can’t believe it’s only thirty bob,’ he told the pawnbroker as he handed over a crisp pound note and a ten-shilling note that needed careful handling to avoid being ripped along its many creases.

  ‘It is fairly old,’ Manny replied, without a blush, ‘and if your lady friend does not like it, she can come and choose for herself.’ After a pause, he added, gently, ‘But perhaps you would rather she did not know where you bought it?’

  ‘I don’t think she’d mind, and thank you very much for everything, Mr Isaacson. You don’t know how grateful I am.’

  When he and Alistair returned to the privacy of their shared room, he took the worn leather box out of his pocket to admire his purchase. ‘It’s lucky your boss had this ring in stock. Look at it … two emeralds and a diamond … for thirty bob!’ His jubilation changed abruptly to uncertainty. ‘D’you think she’ll object to getting a second-hand ring? Will she think it looks cheap? Will her Dad realize …?’

  Alistair felt as if he were between two stools. Manny wouldn’t want him to let Dougal know the real value of the ring, but he couldn’t let his pal run away with the idea that it was worthless. ‘It’s not classed as second-hand, it’s called an antique, and it’s worth a lot more than thirty bob.’

  Instead of soothing Dougal, this information made him scowl. ‘So Manny pulled a fast one on me? Well, I’m not taking his charity, and you’d better give it back to him in the morning.’

  ‘It wasn’t meant as charity.’ Alistair had to deny it. ‘He buys things much cheaper in the markets because the stallholders don’t know what they’re worth, and even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to sell them for that. You just landed lucky that Manny had got those three rings so cheap.’

  ‘It was good of him to think of me, then,’ Dougal admitted. ‘I can see why you like him, Ally, he’s a kind-hearted soul.’

  ‘Have you heard from Alistair lately?’

  It was a routine question, asked of Alice Ritchie almost every time her mother sent her to buy the groceries. ‘Mam had a letter yester
day, and he says Dougal Finnie’s got engaged, though it’ll be another year before her father’ll let them get wed.’

  Lexie Fraser nodded pleasantly. She wanted desperately to find out if Alistair had a girlfriend, but she couldn’t make it too obvious. ‘Is there any word of them …? It’s been two years since they went away, and surely they’d get some holidays?’

  ‘Well, I suppose Dougal’s been saving his money seeing he’s going to be taking a wife, and Alistair’s happy enough to keep working. He says Manny, that’s his boss, leaves him in full charge nowadays, and he’s teaching him how to value jewellery and things like that. Besides, he’s an old man, and I think Alistair feels responsible for him, in a way.’

  ‘But he should get some time off … it’s the law … all employees should get a week’s holidays … every year.’

  Guessing what Lexie really wanted to know, Alice took pity on her. ‘They’ve good lodgings, that’s one good thing. Ivy, that’s their landlady, she torments Alistair it’s time he got a ladyfriend and all, but he says he’s not ready for that yet. He’s happy the way he is.’ She was glad she’d made a point of it; Lexie’s relief was almost tangible.

  ‘He hasn’t got much spare cash, of course, with his lodgings to pay, and getting his washing done, and buying fags, he says he never has anything left at the end of the week. I’d better not waste any more time, though. Mam’ll be wondering what I’m doing. I near forgot, how’s your mother keeping?’

  ‘She’s not very great, but the doctor says there’s nothing more he can do for her.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Lexie. Tell her I was asking for her.’

  ‘I’ll do that, Alice. Cheerio just now, then.’

  Lexie waited until Alice cycled off before turning the placard on the door to ‘Closed’, and putting the snib down. It was on one o’clock, and she knew her mother would be waiting for her dinner, though she just picked at it like a sparrow, but the girl still didn’t hurry to attend to her like she usually did. Hearing about Dougal’s engagement had unsettled her. Alistair had always copied his pal in everything he did, so it was a sure bet that he’d be looking for a girlfriend now.