That same evening Dave put down the book he was studying and decided he would go for a walk. Might even call on Kay, he thought, allowing himself a half hour break from his books. The air would do him good. His brain was getting stale. He shrugged on a jacket and flicking a hand through his tousled hair, stuck his head into the TV room to tell his mother he was going out.
Mrs. Mason was reading the newspaper and at the sound of the door opening, she quickly pulled off her glasses. Vain about her looks, she never liked to be caught wearing them, and especially by her son. Since she had reached the age of fifty, she was constantly trying to see herself through his eyes and dreaded the thought of growing old.
‘Back in a half-hour,’ Dave told her, amused at her little deception. His mother was always the same to him, seeming no older than when he was at school. But then he never looked closely at her anymore nor had he for years.
He came out of the house to find his father standing by the Volkswagen.
‘Going into town?’ Reggie Mason asked, tucking his muffler into his jacket and pulling on sheepskin gloves.
‘No, just taking a walk,’ Dave replied, trying not to speak curtly. He was ashamed to own it but his mother’s poor regard for his father had begun to influence him. Why doesn’t he smarten himself up a bit, he wondered, as his father stood there with his eager to please, Old Reggie’s a decent sort of fellow smile on his ruined face, pouchy eyes fixed hopefully on him.
‘Not to worry, my boy,’ Reggie absolved him with a wave of one sheep skinned glove, ‘Walk will do me good.’ He moved off, knees slightly bent, swinging his arms energetically as advised in his airforce exercise manual.
Poor old bugger, Dave thought conscience-stricken. He waited until his father’s jaunty figure rounded the corner, then strolled along Carrick Road. The air was chilly on his skin but he liked the fresh feel of it. No matter how cold the weather Dave never wore a topcoat, his only concession to the winter being the addition of a woollen pullover to his wardrobe. As he swung along his mind was filled with the doings at work that day.
Maxwell Tailoring, where Dave worked, was one of the biggest handcraft wholesale tailoring businesses in the country, specialising in high quality mens suiting with a wide range in ready-to-wear clothing, co-ordinating trousers, jackets and casuals. It was the ambition of the managing director to put them at the top of the market. Lately Tony Wall was working on a plan to expand their lines to manufacture an exclusive brand of ski-pants and leisure wear. He was a real dynamo, Dave reflected, familiar with his boss’s view that if you enjoyed what you were doing, it wasn’t work! His own sentiments exactly!
Dave had come into the accounting side of the firm straight from school and spent the last seven years moving steadily up. Just as well he liked studying and thrived on hard, challenging work. Certainly he had had plenty of all three in the past few years.
As he turned in Molly Begley’s gate he came upon Bill in the front garden vigorously cutting back the hedge. The old seaman was beginning to look his years. Bill’s habit in the cold weather of allowing his hair grow long for the sake of warmth did not, in Dave’s opinion, make for a youthful appearance.
Going up the path, Dave gave the bell a polite ring and went on into the house. He found Kay in the kitchen sewing name tags on her uniform. Relaxing into a splitting horsehair chair by the fireplace , he listened to her description of the end of training lunch.
‘So what happened then?’ he asked with a grin, when Kay revealed that Orla and Lucy had ended up getting sick on the floor.
‘We mopped up and went home.’
‘They must have had one hell of a hang-over.’
Gin and Benedictine, Dave thought. Ugh! He reached across to lift a sleeve of her uniform jacket, rubbing the tweed between his fingers
‘Hey, don’t do that,’ Kay protested as the movement pulled it out of her grasp. She dived for the needle and after a moment located it, slanted like a spear in the faded carpet roses. Reaching for it, she pricked her finger and swore.
‘You should look quite well in it,’ Dave said consideringly.
Kay ignored the belittlement. It was just like Dave, she thought, never to offer full praise or acknowledgement. She knew the turquoise and gold uniform suited her, but to be honest the blondes looked best of all. Sally with her fair peach complexion and bell of golden hair quite took your breath away. And Penelope, with that enormous chest, looked equally impressive. She bit off the thread and taking another label, began sewing it on to her skirt.
‘Got into a hell of a stink I suppose,’ Dave referred back to the boozy lunch. He liked hearing the details of the hostess group and felt he knew them intimately.
‘Not really.’
Kay had been surprised there were no repercussions to what she and Sally privately alluded to as ‘Loosey’s Folly.’ Maybe this was because such things happened at every end of training demo and was even expected by the Hostess Chiefs. Or maybe it was all simply forgotten in the rush to prepare for the Wings ceremony.
‘I’d life to meet this Orla,’ Dave said. She glanced up in surprise.
That jolted her, he thought in satisfaction. ‘She’s not your type.’
Kay laid down her work for the moment, not if I am, her unspoken comment.
‘Oh, I don’t know. She sounds a bit of fun.’ He searched around for another name to throw at her.
‘Sandy too, now she sounds a real cracker.’
‘Perhaps, if you like them stupid,’ Kay said haughtily. She picked up her needle and commenced attack on her uniform gloves.
Dave realised that he had gone too far. Recollecting Sandy’s part in the lunch service, he had to agree she sounded flighty and not too bright on top.
‘When is this Wings thing you are planning?’ he asked, changing the subject. From what Kay had let fall, he knew there were plans afoot for some kind of celebration after the ceremony.
‘Nothing has been decided yet.’ Kay said vaguely.
For weeks the group had been discussing a venue for the Wings party but so far nowhere suitable had been found.
‘It’s sure to be a bit of a let-down anyway,’ she said off-puttingly.
Dave got the message. Well, if that’s the way she wants it, he thought, I won’t queer her pitch. Anyway he couldn’t spare the night with his next accountancy exam coming up so soon. ‘So I’m not going to meet Orly and Loosey after all,’ he said lightly, making Kay giggle in spite of herself. ‘What a shame.’ ‘There’ll be other opportunities.’
She put aside her bits and pieces and stretched.
Dave picked up the uniform beret and in keeping with his part as joker, stuck it at a rakish angle on his head.
‘Welcome on board,’ he cried in shrill falsetto.
‘Don’t!’ Kay choked with laughter, though not quite liking her precious uniform to be treated in this irreverent way. She made a grab for it, clawing breathlessly at his shoulders as he held off from her.
‘Give it to me,’ she implored, her breath warmly fragrant on his cheek as with a final lunge, she snatched upwards.
Dave’s stance of pretended indifference was not always easy to maintain, especially now with her so temptingly close. He wondered if his adopted attitude was a mistake, keeping control on himself with difficulty. Surely it was tantamount to delivering her into the hands of the predators that were almost certainly circling? He stared down at her with half-closed eyes, wondering if he might not be better off to grab her now and kiss some sense into her.
But he knew he would do nothing of the kind. He didn’t fancy a relationship that was one-sided, nor one that could be so easily advanced by mere physical manoeuvres. He plucked the beret from his head and bowed low in a courtly manner.
‘At your service, Mademoiselle.’
Kay crooned over it, examining it for signs of damage. Watching her with a half-smile, Dave was aware that the moment was lost. Again he was beset by doubts but he was the obstinate kind of young may who, on deciding on something determinedly follows it through regardless to the finish. When Molly entered the room, he turned towards her thankfully, almost glad of the interruption.
‘Sit down, Dave. You’re surely not going,’ Molly urged him back to his seat and sat herself down near the fire. Having wakened from her nap that afternoon with a chill, a touch of fever added brilliance to her cheeks and her tongue was hectically indiscreet.
Nothing fazed Dave, thought Kay, noticing the way he didn’t even blink when Molly began openly referring to her weak bladder and the inconveniences of her ‘old waterworks’. She was aware that Dave had always been fond of her aunt and supposed he found her a refreshing change from his own undoubtedly snobbish mother who would have fainted rather than mention anything so vulgar. Watching the smiling, grey-eyed young man, Kay decided, not for the first time, that Dave was a strange mixture. It was only towards herself that he was so casual. Kay supposed him to be a suitor though she could see little signs of it. She often thought she would drop in her tracks if he ever sent her a Valentine’s Day card or bought her perfume or flowers. Admittedly the gold charm he had given her on Christmas Day had rocked her slightly but she didn’t place any great significance on it. He had probably asked Breda to get it for him at the Jewellers where she worked.
No - Kay frowned and shook her head - Dave hadn’t changed. He still only dropped round when it suited him and then, like now, spent the most of his time talking to Molly. I mean why did he bother? If he had any sense he would realise he’d do far better to pay attention to her rather than her relatives. She sighed. He could be so irritating at times. Well, he had only himself to blame, she thought, when in retaliation she treated him in a cavalier fashion.
‘So long, Kay,’ he said when she went out with him to the door. ‘I expect to be kept fairly busy for the next few weeks to don’t count on seeing me for a while.’
Well honestly! Talk about playing hard to get! Kay felt the old irritation rising. ‘I expect to be fairly busy myself,’ she retorted coolly.
Okay, Dave Mason, she told herself grimly as his tall figure disappeared down the road, If that’s the way you want it, two can play at that game.