Twenty

‘Oh, my, where’s the jug, then?’ asked Mrs Petrie, fixing her eyes on Elinor coming into the kitchen on a Saturday afternoon two weeks later. Lunch was over and Maisie was toiling over the washing-up, as Vera scrubbed the table and Mrs Petrie herself sat drinking tea by the window. Elinor, in her dark brown winter coat and large fawn hat trimmed with ribbon, stopped and stared.

‘What jug, Mrs Petrie? What d’you mean?’

‘The cream jug, of course! Don’t tell me you’ve no’ seen yourself? You look just like the cat that’s been at the cream – is that no’ true, Vera? Sal?’

Sal, looking in from the scullery, blushed, nodded and retreated. Vera, setting down her brush, gave a thin smile.

‘Aye, you’re looking very happy, Elinor.’

‘Very pleased with herself, I’d say!’ cried Mrs Petrie. ‘All this just to see your folks, then?’

‘It is my Saturday afternoon off,’ Elinor replied smartly. ‘I suppose I can look happy if I like?’

‘You’ve looked happy for days, is what I’ve noticed. Got a secret admirer, then?’

‘No!’ Elinor cried, a flush staining her cheeks. ‘Look, I’m off. See you tonight.’

‘Well, don’t be late. There’s plenty work waiting.’

‘No need to tell me.’

Elinor, closing the back door with unnecessary force, ran up the area steps with her brows drawn together and her mouth set in a straight, angry line. Oh, trust Mrs Petrie to try to spoil things, eh? Couldn’t let a lassie enjoy her time off without putting her spoke in, doing her best to cause trouble. Well, she wasn’t going to spoil this precious afternoon with Stephen, that was for sure. No, no, she must control her feelings, stop frowning, look happy – for she was happy, radiantly happy, to be snatching a few hours off with the man who would be waiting for her at Maule’s Corner. The nicest man in the world, in Elinor’s view. Aye, and probably would be, too, in Mrs Petrie’s, if only she could see him.

How wonderful it would have been, if she and everyone else could have seen him, if he need no longer be a secret. But it wasn’t possible. At least, not yet. For now, it was best to keep him hidden, safe from comment, disapproval, and maybe envy. Yes, for now, that was the best thing to do.

By the time she arrived at the familiar corner, she had smoothed out her brow and relaxed her lovely mouth, so that when she saw him waiting for her, leaping forward, in fact, to greet her, she had no worries that he would need to ask her what was wrong. For nothing was wrong, everything was amazingly right now that they were together again.

As he took her hands and looked at her with shining grey eyes, she gave a little inward sigh. On that cold day, he was wearing a fine dark overcoat and trilby hat, which he had just replaced after sweeping it off at sight of her, and it seemed to her, as it so often did, a thing of wonder that anyone like him should be waiting for her. Yet mixed with that wonder was a little question. Why shouldn’t he wait for her? Why was it the way of the world that it should be so surprising? She knew it was, though, and as they stepped aside from the Saturday shoppers, her question died and her wonder remained.

‘Oh, Elinor,’ he was whispering, ‘I was so afraid you might not come, might not be able to come, I mean. That somebody’d said you couldn’t have the time, or something  . . .’

‘Nothing would have stopped me from coming,’ she said firmly. ‘But tell me, where are we going? I’ve to be back by six.’

‘Six? My poor Cinderella.’ He laughed, tucking her arm in his. ‘Oh, but I wish you were Cinderella, and then you’d have till midnight. Where are we going? To the station; we’re catching a train.’

‘A train? Why, Stephen, you know we haven’t got time for train journeys!’

‘We’re only going to Colinton, takes fifteen minutes, or less. There’s country there and a nice place for tea, so let’s be quick and get the tram to Waverley.’

‘I’ve never been to Colinton,’ she told him as they ran for a tram. ‘Is there really country there?’

‘You bet. Why, it’s a village. Not part of the city at all, though they say that’ll be coming.’

‘I’d love to see it; love to see some real country.’ As a tram rolled up and they took their seats, Elinor’s smile lit her face. ‘Nearest I get to it is the square, but then I love that, too.’

‘This’ll be different from the square, I promise you. It used to be our favourite day out, to go to Colinton, before my father died.’

‘You’ve never told me about your father.’

‘We’ve had so little chance to talk at all.’ His eyes were serious. ‘But today, I want to learn all about you.’

Her gaze fell. ‘Nothing much to know about me, Stephen.’

‘Now, why do people always say that?’ He leaped up. ‘Here we are – here’s Waverley. Let’s hope we don’t have to wait too long for a train.’

They were in luck. As soon as Stephen had bought the tickets and they’d found the platform, their little train came steaming in and they were aboard, Elinor as excited as though she was going to London at least, and Stephen indulgently smiling.

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t been on a train before,’ he murmured, as they took their seats in a compartment with only one other passenger, an elderly man reading a newspaper.

‘Of course I have!’ she cried. ‘We did a trip from school to North Berwick, to see the sea.’

‘Never went on holiday anywhere?’

She only looked at him, her brows raised, and he coloured a little.

‘Sorry, probably wasn’t possible.’

‘You’re right. But this’ll be sort of a holiday, eh? Seeing somewhere new? And the country?’

‘Wish it could have been longer.’

‘I’m lucky it’s happening at all.’

Certainly, their journey was short enough, for they’d hardly settled into their seats when they were rising again, and a porter was calling out, ‘Colinton!’

‘We’ll take the lane away from the village,’ Stephen told her on the windy little station platform. ‘I thought we’d walk a bit first, then come back to the teashop. What do you think?’

‘Oh, yes, I want to see some grass and trees. Cows as well!’

‘When we came with my dad, we always went to the Dell, where you can see the Water of Leith and the weir, but there are always people there, and we want to be alone, don’t we?’

He took her arm, guiding her away from the steep main street of the village towards a lane that wound away into open country, explaining that she would get her chance to see a cow or two in the fields, and horses, too: they would be passing a little farm very soon.

‘A farm?’ she cried, charmed. ‘Oh, Stephen!’

It was all he could do to drag her away from the farm premises when they came to them, for she was exclaiming over the chickens, the milk churns, the tackle lying everywhere, the dogs barking as she looked through the gates, and the farmer’s wife at the washing line.

‘No, no, Elinor, we can’t stop,’ he cried desperately. ‘We need time alone. You want it, too, don’t you? We want to be together.’

‘Oh, yes, I want to be with you,’ she told him. ‘It’s just – well, you don’t see many farms in Edinburgh, eh?’

‘But there are the cows you wanted to see, in that field there. I daresay there’ll be horses further on.’ He pressed her arm against his side. ‘I hope you’ll spare me a look, too, from your beautiful eyes.’

She laughed delightedly, until he took her hand and led her into a little copse of trees at the side of the lane, where she became serious, following his mood, which was not just serious, but intense. They didn’t speak, just went into each other’s arms and stood for a moment. Then began to kiss.

It was wonderfully sweet, that kissing. Elinor had been expecting it, knew that she wanted it, and responded wholeheartedly. But then it began to dawn on her that Stephen was holding back, that his kisses and caresses could have been much more passionate, much stronger, except that he seemed afraid.

Afraid? He was afraid of her? Or of himself? Her great eyes on his face were filled with more wonder.

‘I won’t break,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

‘How quick you are!’ He shook his head, running his hand over his brow. ‘You don’t need to be told anything.’

‘I want you to kiss me,’ she said softly. ‘It’s why we’re here. Why we wanted to be alone.’

‘Yes, but I think we should go back now.’ He straightened up, putting on his hat which he had thrown aside. ‘We’ll go and have tea, shall we?’

‘You don’t want to kiss me any more?’

‘Elinor, I want it too much. Look, let’s go. We have to think of the time, you know.’

She had to hurry to keep up with him as he strode back down the lane, but by the time they’d passed the farm again, he’d slowed down and seemed calmer. She took his arm.

‘I know what kissing can lead to,’ she told him. ‘Girls like me, where we live, we learn. But it doesn’t have to happen, eh? What I’m saying is, there’s no need to worry.’

‘I do worry, that’s the point. Your parents don’t know you’re with me, do they? What would they say if they knew?’

‘Why, they’d understand,’ she said uneasily, wondering if they would. Stephen was not the sort of young man they’d have expected her to get to know, maybe not the sort they’d trust, because of his position as a professional man. Where’d be her hope for a future with him? they’d be asking, and she wouldn’t be able to tell them. She wasn’t, in any case, thinking about the future.

‘Let’s leave worrying about them now,’ she said quickly. ‘Let’s just keep on as we are.’

‘Meeting in secret?’

‘Well  . . . have you said anything about me to your mother?’

‘Not yet. Only because you seem so anxious for other people not to know about us.’

‘I thought you were anxious, too,’ she said evenly.

He flushed and bit his lip.

‘You’re remembering what I said, I suppose.’

‘About tutors and students? Yes, well, you did say it was frowned on, forming friendships.’

‘I know, I know, I did say that. Look, everything will be fine when the course is over at the end of March. Then we won’t be tutor and student.’ He was relaxing, managing a smile. ‘Elinor, we can be just what we want to be.’

‘So, for now, like I said, we keep on as we are?’

‘For now.’ He looked along the narrow village street. ‘See, the café’s just here. Shall we have tea, then?’

‘Oh, yes, please!’

‘Are you hungry? I am. Must be this wonderful country air.’