said, so it’s quite a way to come. I don’t think she knew a lot more. Well, it is a blind date and I shan’t make a habit of it, so you needn’t look so disapproving, Vi McKeown.’
‘Sorry, queen. Didn’t mean to.’ Vi grinned. ‘So that leaves you and me, Jane, unless you’re goin’ somewhere.’
‘Me? Oh, no.’ The reply was instant. ‘I’m going to cabin 10. There’s so much I need to ask.’
‘Hey! For fun, we said,’ Vi warned.
‘All right. I give you my word I won’t take it seriously. It’s just that it was a bit much, that seven coming up like that. I’ve got to try again. You do understand?’
Vi understood. Like the word girl, it was too much of a coincidence to go unchallenged. And Lilith Penrose wasn’t a bad sort. There was something decent about her, in spite of her peculiar beliefs, Vi conceded. And what Lilith believed was her own business. It was a free country, after all, and wasn’t free countries what this war was all about?
‘What about you, Lucinda? What time will you be back?’
‘About eight, I suppose. I’ve only to explain about Molly. Shouldn’t take long.’
Craigiebur, thought Lucinda, must once have been a pleasant place. Small, with hills on three sides, it was easy to imagine the summer holidaymakers arriving from Clydeside on the peacetime ferries. Now, the beach was desolate, criss-crossed with coils of barbed wire, and most of the seafront hotels and boarding houses had been requisitioned for Army and Navy personnel or for government offices evacuated from Glasgow.
She looked at her watch. The evening ferry was approaching, and right on time too; the ferry they had missed last Sunday. Was it really only a week ago they had missed it; just a week since Vi had refused to be put out about it and had kept their spirits up during that cold, uncomfortable night?
Vi. It was as if they had always known her. Vi of the ready smile, who had lost everything. Motherly Vi, who called everybody queen and who said gale for girl and had a sister Murry in Ormscake. Dear, lovely Vi, who would give short shrift to any of Mama’s moods. Lucinda laughed inside.
And what about poor Jane, who had looked so pale and ill last Sunday night? Surely there must be a way to help her find Rob’s mother. Why, even now she might have heard that her son had made it home again. Aircrews who bailed out over occupied Europe did get back, though little about it was released by the censors. Charlie said there was a lot going on in the occupied countries that the ordinary British public knew nothing about. Charlie said that – Charlie. Oh, dear. Here she was, waiting for a sailor called Nick who was already fifteen minutes late. Whatever would Charlie make of that, if he knew? Smiling just to think of it, she concentrated on the ferry, which was now making a half-turn, slowing and swinging to come in port side on to the jetty.
It occurred to her that Nick could be on that ferry. She should wait a little longer. There were plenty of reasons for his lateness. She would wait until eight o’clock. Nick had quite a distance to come; she owed him that much.
By eight o’clock the ferry had come alongside and all the passengers disembarked. Soldiers and sailors and ATS girls and Wrens returning from leave, a few civilians and a kilted Scot with a goat trotting amiably behind him on a lead. Now the jetty was empty save for a Post Office van collecting sacks of mail, and of Nick there was no sign – unless he was the man in RAF uniform looking at his watch as if he just might be waiting for someone. Should she ask him? Dare she? Did she really have a choice? Straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat, she walked up to him.
‘Excuse me, sir’ – well he was an officer – ‘are you Nick?’ The colour flamed in her cheeks. ‘Nick who’s meeting Molly at half-past seven?’
‘Well, if I am I’m unforgivably late, honey. And I’m not Nick, though I sure wish I was. You’re Molly, uh?’
‘No, I’m Lucinda. It’s a bit complicated. I’m here because Molly is ill. I think I’ll have to give up and go.’
‘Me too. Er, Mavis – that’s my date – isn’t going to show, it seems. Guess we’ve both been stood up.’
‘Guess we have. Aren’t you a Canadian?’
‘Getting near. American. Michael Johnson Farrow, from Vermont, New England.’
‘Lucinda Bainbridge, from Lincolnshire, old England.’ Smiling, she took the extended hand. And that, really, was when she should have said it was nice meeting him and wished him goodbye and run to catch the Ardneavie transport which was just now pulling away. But she didn’t, because she was curious about him and, besides, he was still holding her hand.
‘Forgive me,’ she smiled, ‘but what is an American doing in the RAF? This isn’t your war. Why did you come?’
‘Now that,’ he smiled, ‘is best related over a couple of drinks.’
‘Drinks, sir? On a Scottish Sunday?’
‘They’ll serve us at my hotel, no bother. And it does seem like Nick and Mavis aren’t going to show …’
‘Seems like it. And I’d be glad to have a drink with you – if you can get one.’
Sorry, Charlie, but he’s a long way from home. And tomorrow, just to make up for her fall from grace, she silently promised, she would write to Charlie again, even though he hadn’t replied to the letter she sent him a week ago. And wasn’t there a war on and wasn’t life far too short to worry about a couple of drinks? Seemed mean, actually, to refuse. She smiled into Michael Farrow’s eyes. ‘Very glad,’ she said.
Lilith was waiting as if she had known they would come. Fenny, setting out the table, smiled a welcome. Connie, chin on knees, sat on the window seat, staring out over the loch.
‘Want to join us, Con?’
‘No, thanks. You know I’m no good at it.’
‘That’s because you don’t believe; it makes you a disruptive influence. Or is it that you’re afraid of what the glass might tell you?’ Lilith chided softly.
‘Oh, leave me alone, can’t you! You’re always on at me. You’ve got your knife into Johnny and you won’t let it rest. Why can’t you take my word for it that he’s all right?’
‘Because I’m older and wiser than you are, Connie Dean, and I feel responsible for you, though heaven knows why I should. And why aren’t you seeing him tonight?’
‘Because he’s watch aboard, that’s why. And while you’re playing your silly game, why don’t you ask it why you’re such an interfering old bat?’ She jumped to her feet, tears trembling in her voice. ‘I’m going downstairs to listen to the wireless, and if you don’t mind your own business I’ll tell Ma’am what goes on up here, just see if I don’t!’
Choking on her sobs, she slammed out, leaving behind her a disbelieving silence.
‘Ar, hey, Lilith.’ Vi found her voice. ‘Weren’t you a bit hard on the kid?’
‘I don’t think so. And Johnny Jones isn’t on watch tonight. He came ashore on the
