Chapter Seven

For his first few weeks in Liverpool, Roddy did feel homesick, although Mrs O’Shaughnessy did all she could to make him feel at home. He missed his parents, he missed his old school pals, but most of all, he missed his sister. When he awoke each morning, he felt this acute pain nagging at his heart, and it grew worse at night. It was as if part of him had disappeared, had been lost for ever, yet he knew that he would always have this same love for her, whether it was right or wrong. Deep down, of course, he knew that it definitely was wrong.

As the weeks passed, however slowly, so slowly at first, he got to know his workmates and other young men in his lodgings, and the hollow feeling diminished and almost died, although there were times when, late into the night, he woke up with the same yearning eating at him; the yearning that could never be appeased.

It was another young clerk from the same firm who guided Roddy’s feet onto the road to enjoyment. He had, as a result of his mother’s nagging letters and enclosed postal order, made the journey home to Cruden Bay after three months, and returned after the weekend in deep depression. It had been agony to see Dilly, to have to talk about mundane things, never to have the slightest chance of touching her, or speaking privately to her. On the Monday morning, he looked so miserable that Tony Riley, at twenty just over a year and a half older than him, asked if he would like to go to a cafe with him for lunch. Roddy agreed listlessly, lunch wasn’t a priority for him just then, and he was pleasantly surprised by how well they got on. Over their soup and sandwiches, Tony had him smiling, then giggling, then laughing out loud, and lunch together became a regular thing, followed by the weekends.

The invitation to spend Saturdays and Sundays at the Rileys’ home was issued on only the third week of their acquaintance, although Roddy was reluctant to accept at first - he didn’t feel up to mixing with other people, nor intruding on a family’s weekend - but when he arrived there it was obvious by their welcome that they enjoyed extra company.

Indicating each one with a wave of his hand, Tony made the introductions, ‘Mum, Dad, Boppy - my pest of a baby sister - and my faithful companion Google. After my favourite website,’ he added with a grin.

His mother shook her head at his casual manner. ‘You’ll have to excuse my son, Roddy. He’s got no finesse. I’m Tess, my husband’s called Wilf, my daughter was christened Barbara but called herself Boppy when she was just a wee tot, and it sort of stuck. Google’s a mixed breed …’

‘He doesn’t like being called a m-o-n-g-r-e-l,’ Tony interrupted in a loud whisper, stroking the dog’s head affectionately.

Noticing the adoring way the dog’s eyes regarded Tony, Roddy knew that the dog felt the same way about his master. ‘Thank you very much for inviting me for the weekend, Mrs …’

‘It’s Tess, and we’re delighted you agreed to come.’

Wilf came forward with his hand out, giving the boy a brief, but extremely firm, handshake. ‘Now you’ve met my unruly brood, you’ll maybe have reservations about coming again, but we’ll always be pleased to see you.’ He turned to his wife. ‘And now the introductions are over, perhaps we can have our meal, Tess?’

Still feeling slightly ill at ease, Roddy sat down in the chair Wilf pulled out for him, while Tess and Boppy went through to the kitchen to dish up and the other two took their seats. The meal passed in a flurry of light, teasing talk, especially between the brother and sister, with their parents smilingly putting in an occasional few words to settle a difference of opinion. Roddy was soon drawn into the discussions and mock arguments about anything and everything.

The evening was spent in playing Monopoly, which lasted until Tess said, ‘I think we should call a halt now. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need my beauty sleep.’

Roddy was surprised to see that the large clock on the wall was showing five past twelve, and realised that he actually felt quite tired. Of course, the scores had to be totted up before the table was cleared - Boppy having most of the cash and only Roddy left with some property. He had never played the game before and thoroughly enjoyed the pseudo-serious bargaining that went on, and when he went to bed - a cup of cocoa and a digestive biscuit later - it dawned on him somewhat belatedly that he had laughed more over the past few hours than he had done for months. The Rileys had been a proper tonic. They were a very close-knit family although they pretended to bicker about this and that. Brother and sister were not in the least alike physically, Tony taking after his mother with his almost black hair and startlingly blue eyes, while Boppy and her father had light brown hair and dark, nearly black eyes.

It was the opposite from his own family, he reflected, sleepily; he with the same colouring as their father and Dilly with their mother’s. He fell asleep thinking of her, as he had done ever since he had realised that he loved her, but this time it did not keep him awake as it usually did.

He awoke in the morning feeling refreshed He still loved her, he always would, but he was only too aware that they had to lead separate lives now, find new friends, new happiness. Boppy Riley was the only girl he had come to know in Liverpool and it was too early to tell if she would be his eventual Fate, though he was almost sure that she wouldn’t. She could be good company, though, and that was what he needed now.

‘He’s writing a lot about this Tony Riley who works with him.’ Roselle Lewis handed the letter to her husband, but couldn’t stop speaking her thoughts out loud. ‘He’s been going there for whole weekends and …’ ‘I can read, thank you.’

Brian’s quiet comment made Dilly smile a little. Her parents often argued but not for real, and she knew they loved each other as much as she loved Roddy. She was not quite so sure now, though, that he still loved her. How could he when he was for ever going to see Tony Riley’s family? There was a sister there, too, so it was on the cards that she and Roddy would get together … wasn’t it? Not that he ever hinted at anything like that, but if she was a pretty girl, he must be tempted. He’d been seeing her every weekend for months now; it was too awful to imagine what they could be doing together. They did go to the pictures, and her brother surely wouldn’t want to play gooseberry, so they’d be sitting together, walking home together, maybe even sitting in the sitting room or lounge or whatever after everyone else had gone to bed.

Her father cut into this agonising thought. ‘What d’you think about it, Dilly? Your mother seems to think he’ll hit it off with the daughter of the house.’

‘He could do worse, I suppose,’ she said, forcing herself to make a joke.

Roselle shook her head. ‘He could, and she seems to be a nice girl, but he’s still a bit young to be thinking of settling down.’

The knife turning in her daughter’s heart stilled at this. Of course he was too young to get serious, with this Boppy - stupid name - or any other girl. She was worrying for nothing. Once he’d had his fill of Liverpool, he’d come back to her, even though he’d said they could never be really together. They could, if he loved her as much as she loved him. She would go away with him tomorrow, if he asked her to. Nobody would know they were twins if they went to a strange place. He said that was impossible, of course, because any children they might have would be insane, or misshapen, but they wouldn’t need to have any children. There were all sorts of contraceptives available. She felt the blood rushing to her face, wave after wave, at the thought of having sex with Roddy.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ Her mother was eyeing her in concern. ‘You’re very flushed.’

‘I feel a bit queasy,’ she lied, ‘but I’ll be all right when I get outside in the cool air.’

‘You should have a lie-down.’

‘I’m all right, I tell you. I promised to meet Janice Burns at eight. She wants to go for a walk in the hope of seeing Jeff Dawson and his pals.’

‘So are you after one of his pals?’

‘Don’t be silly! They’re a bunch of dopes. Well, I’d better be going, or I’ll be late.’

She was barely out of the door when her mother said, ‘You know, Brian, I’m getting really worried about her. She hasn’t been well for …’ she paused, then ended, ‘… for a long time.’

‘You mean, since Roddy went to Liverpool?’

‘Well, yes, but it surely couldn’t be that? He’s her brother - her twin brother.’

Pulling on his jacket, her husband pulled a face, and then said, quietly, ‘I’ve read somewhere that if one twin goes away, the other pines, and I’ve heard people saying it’s true.’ He turned as he went out, adding, ‘It’s only natural, Ros.’

Knowing that there was no sense in arguing further, she wisely said no more, but she was still convinced that there was something far wrong going on in her family.

Although Roddy enjoyed Boppy’s company, it did not take him long to realise that she felt more for him than he felt for her, and he was always relieved when there were other people present. Then, to his horror, over lunch one day, Tony said, with mock drama, ‘Thou art not the only one with an admirer, Roderico. I, too, am being pursued by a tasty wench. Which of us, prithee, will get his leg over first, I wonder?’

‘Stop clowning,’ Roddy snapped, angry at his own embarrassment. ‘I don’t know what you’re on about. I don’t have a girlfriend.’

Tony shook his index finger at him reprimandingly. ‘Cruel, cruel. Thou cannot pullst the wool over mine eyes, however. Canst thou not see that the fair Boppy is ready for the plucking?’

‘Don’t be daft, man! She’s your sister! How can you say anything like that?’

‘It be the truth, Roderico. Hast thou not got eyes in thy head?’

Deciding that changing the subject was the only way out, Roddy said, ‘So you’ve found a girlfriend, have you? Come on then, out with it. Who is she?’

‘Nice try, my friend, but thou willst soon find out the truth for thyself, so I willst answer thy question. See, here she cometh, the delectable Desdemona.’

‘Cut it out, Tone,’ said the tall blonde girl now taking a seat beside them. ‘Hi, Roddy.’

He blinked in amazement. ‘Samantha?’

‘Didn’t you know about Tony and me? Everybody else in Finance does.’

Guffawing at his friend’s blank look, Tony said, ‘Blind as a bat, this one, Sam. Never mind, m’laddo, it’ll be your turn next.’

Roddy gave his head a vehement shake. ‘I don’t think so, Tony. I’m not ready for a girlfriend.’

‘Hast got a wench waiting for thee in Aberdeen - or that Godforsaken place you call home? Is that it?’

‘If you mean Cruden Bay, it’s a lovely village, and there might be somebody there.’ As far as he could see, it was the only way to stop the teasing.

His ploy certainly worked. Tony’s face turned a deep red, and his brows shot down. ‘My God! So you’ve been leading my sister up the garden path all this time. Well I tell you this, you low-life, you’ll never be welcome in our house again.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘Come on, Sam! I can’t stand to look at his two-timing, lying face!’

The girl did as she was told, but before following Tony out, she turned and shrugged apologetically. Roddy, however, was left with a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t told Boppy any lies, he hadn’t let her believe he was serious about her. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but he would never get the chance now to tell her so. Unless …? Should he write and explain? How could he, though? He could never tell her, or anyone else, for that matter, that the girl he loved was his twin sister. That would set alarm bells going with a vengeance. It would be blazoned from the rooftops and soon everybody he knew would believe he was some sort of pervert. His name would be in all the papers, with a photo, no doubt. Maybe he’d land in prison for - whatever the crime was called, because it was a crime, he was well aware of that.

He had to force himself to return to work, and was thankful that Tony Riley was on another floor, but no doubt he’d be telling all and sundry what had happened. He did not see his ex-friend during the rest of the week, but knew by the embarrassment of the other members of staff he encountered that news of his ‘girlfriend’ had got out. He purposely avoided the little cafe where he and Tony had always gone for lunch. Going hungry was better than being ridiculed by the people who had witnessed the incident.

On finishing work that Friday afternoon, he made for the railway station. He had to go home, to be with people who wouldn’t turn their backs on him.

Roselle had been delighted by the phone call from her son a couple of days ago. It was time he put in an appearance. It must be at least four months since she’d seen him, and she was beginning to think that he was serious about this Boppy girl he’d got to know. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. As his mother, she thought he was far too young to be serious about any girl, but, on the other hand, it would mean that he’d got over his feelings for Dyllis, which would be the best news she’d had for ages.

As soon as she saw him, she could tell from his manner that something had happened, and made signs to her husband and daughter when they returned from their usual Saturday morning walk. Sometimes they went to Slains Castle, the eerie ruins standing on the edge of the cliff, where, the story went, Bram Stoker had got his setting for Dracula. Today, however, they had gone a little farther, to the Bullers of Buchan, the fearsome natural formation where, over hundreds, thousands, of years, the sea had eaten deeply into the cliffs, leaving only a tiny footpath between two bottomless pits in which the sea constantly churned in a massive vortex. Both places were known to be extremely dangerous - several accidents, even suicides, had taken place there - and Roselle was never happy until they came home again.

Fortunately, each gave Roddy a loud and boisterous welcome now, and conscious of what Roselle was trying to convey to them, asked him no questions. It was not until after lunch, when the ladies were washing up, that he took the chance of speaking to his father.

‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m not with the Rileys this weekend?’

‘It did cross my mind,’ Brian said, quietly, ‘but don’t tell me if you’d rather not.’

‘It was Boppy, you see, the daughter. She … she …’

‘You didn’t … ? For God’s sake, man, you haven’t made her pregnant, have you?’

The young man hastened to dispel the gathering anger in his father’s face. ‘No, no, nothing like that. It was just, um, well, she got the wrong impression. I didn’t feel the same way she did.’

Brian nodded wisely. ‘A woman scorned, was she?’

‘I didn’t give her any reason to think I was interested in her. I did like her, she was good company, but I think her family must have been expecting a romance.’

‘What’s this about a romance?’ Roselle asked as she came in. ‘Have you found a girlfriend at last?’

Stricken with guilt at seeing Dilly’s stunned expression as she followed her mother, Roddy said, ‘No, no, it’s not me.’

Roselle saved the situation by adding, ‘It’s your friend, then? Tony?’

Unwittingly, his mother had given him a way out. ‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Tony’s got a girl, and I’d just be odd man out.’

‘Never mind, dear,’ she consoled, ‘your turn’ll come.’

Dyllis’s face had brightened as she sat down. ‘You’re still quite happy working in Liverpool, are you?’

He turned to her. ‘Oh yes. Of course, it’s much bigger than Aberdeen, and Cruden Bay would fit in dozens of times, so there’s a lot to do - lots of things to see.’

‘I was going to suggest a walk,’ Roselle said now, ‘but I suppose you and your dad have done enough walking for one day, Dilly, so what about a wee run out in the car? It’ll be like old times again, the four of us.’

Sitting close beside his sister in the back seat, as he had always done, was a heavenly torture for both of them, as Roddy could tell when she turned her wistful eyes on him. He took hold of her hand with the intention of comforting her, but instantly wished that he hadn’t. This was worse than torture, it was absolute purgatory, but he couldn’t break away now. And so they sat for the rest of the journey, through the rural countryside, the small villages, and back along the shore road, past Boddam, which had been home to an important aerodrome during World War Two and had remained as RAF Buchan until its closure in 2005, but which was better known now for the huge chimney that had been built for its role as an oil terminal.

Five minutes later, they were home again, the back-seat passengers having to untangle legs as well as fingers before spilling out of the car, relieved that neither of their parents had noticed. Both Roselle and Brian, however, although they had their own separate reasons for not mentioning it, had been acutely conscious of what had been going on.

That night, after an evening of watching television, each of the Lewis family spent a wakeful night. For hours, Roddy’s thoughts veered between love, lust and guilt, but just as dawn was coming up, he made the great decision. He couldn’t go on like this. He couldn’t expect Dilly to keep loving him when there wasn’t the vaguest chance of a future for them. He would have to put an end to his visits home … but how could he explain that to his parents? He agonised over this for some time before the answer hit him like a kick in the stomach. When he went back to work on Monday, he would ask for a transfer. He’d been in Liverpool for just over a year now, and the Head Cashier seemed to be pleased with his progress, so there shouldn’t be any problems. It would also take him away from the uncomfortable situation he was in because of Tony Riley. The move would need to be out of Britain altogether, though; somewhere far enough away so that he couldn’t afford to come home very often … if ever.

The idea of never seeing Dilly again was unbearable, but it would be the only way to give her a chance to meet and, hopefully, fall in love with somebody else and start a family of her own. This was another unpalatable thought, but he did wish for her to be happy, and - who knows? -he might fall in love with somebody, too. Stranger things could happen, although he couldn’t believe that at the moment. Having jumped the hurdle, almost, he dozed off only to be awakened in what seemed like minutes by his mother calling, ‘Breakfast’s ready, you two sleepyheads. Come and get it!’

Dilly was reliving the ecstasy of Roddy’s fingers twining through hers, of his hip against hers as they sat in the car. Why couldn’t he see that she didn’t care how closely they were related? What had that to do with being in love? Even if they had a child together, it would be all right. They were both healthy - she’d only had that silly meningitis when she was newly five - what was that? It wasn’t catching! It didn’t run in families - not that she’d ever heard of, anyway. She would never - could never - love anyone else, and Roddy said the same, so why wouldn’t he throw convention, or whatever, to the wind and take her away somewhere. They could be really happy without this constant worry that somebody who knew them would spill the beans. Nobody would know them if they went far enough away. It would be heart-wrenching to leave Mum and Dad, but they had each other, and they’d been in love once - maybe still were - so they shouldn’t begrudge their children the same happiness.

Her imagination lingered over the loving life she and Roddy could lead, maybe somewhere in the Caribbean, their kiddie-winks turning as brown as berries in the sun, and she and Roddy would sit holding hands on the beach to watch them. It would be absolute heaven … wouldn’t it? Common sense edged in now. Was Roddy right? Would their children be born disfigured, or have something far wrong with them. If that happened, people would know, or at least suspect, that they weren’t an ordinary couple at all - they were criminals living a life of lies, that they had committed a sin and were being punished for it.

Restlessly, she turned over. It could never happen. She could see that now. Even if Roddy did swallow his principles and take her away, their parents would never rest until they were caught. It was all a pipe dream and she had better try to get some sleep or else she would be like a washed-out dishcloth in the morning, when she wanted to look her best for Roddy. She had barely closed her eyes, it seemed, when her mother’s voice penetrated her dulled senses. ‘Breakfast’s ready, you two sleepyheads. Come and get it!’

He couldn’t let it happen, Brian thought. It wouldn’t be so bad for him now that he was thinking more rationally, but Roselle would go out of her mind if she knew that their son and daughter had really fallen in love and wanted to go off and live together. It was a confounded, difficult situation, but there was surely some way out of it. The trouble was that Dyllis, vulnerably romantic, was probably, at that very moment, spinning some airy-fairy dream of them running away together and setting up home somewhere exotic. In her mind, Roddy would be her knight in shining armour, taking her away from her humdrum existence. It was going to be a bugger getting that out of her head. The best way to go about it, he supposed, was to speak to Roddy, warn him that he must not let her talk him into doing something stupid. The boy was more wordly-wise, however, so maybe he had the sense himself to steer clear of it. It was Roselle who was the real problem for him, Brian concluded, and he would do anything, within reason, to save her from being hurt. He had overcome the panicky fear of this same situation that had almost led to him taking his own life before.

‘You awake?’ The soft question came as he had nodded off, but what did that matter? She likely hadn’t been sleeping either.

Roselle’s mind was a welter of ifs and buts, it’s not trues and it is trues. It couldn’t be possible, she told herself, over and over again, but the reflection she had seen in the front-seat mirror of the car told a different story. It was true, there was no getting away from that. Not only had her twins been holding hands, they’d been gazing into each other’s eyes as if they couldn’t see enough of each other. It had given her a right shock, but she didn’t intend to say anything to Brian. Relationships don’t last at that age. In another few months, they’ll have moved on to someone else and she’d be left wondering why she’d been so upset today.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She needed to confide in somebody, talk it over with somebody, but she didn’t want to drag Brian into it. It was better that he was left in ignorance. She lifted her head to look at the clock, the hands capable of being seen even in the dark. Ten to six - there was no point in trying to get some sleep now. ‘You awake, Bri?’ she said softly. ‘Mmm, what is it?’

‘I was thinking we could go for a picnic today. The forecast’s good.’

‘We’ll have to be back in time to drive Roddy to Aberdeen to get his train.’

‘Oh yes. Well we can still have a wee run around. It’ll be good for all of us to get away from the house.’

‘I suppose so. We’d better get up, then, and get breakfast going. We can have lunch somewhere on the road.’

When Brian took the Fiat out of the garage Dilly was excitedly looking forward to being close to her brother in the back seat again, but Roselle said brightly, ‘I’ll go in the back with you, Dyllis, and Roddy can go in the front. He’ll get a better view.’

The girl was obviously disappointed, but the thought that she was still in company with him soon cheered her. Brian took the coast road, all of them marvelling at how lovely the sea was with the sun shining overhead.

‘It reminds me of pictures I’ve seen of the Medittera-nean,’ Roddy said, which started a discussion on holiday resorts they would like to see some day.

Cruden Bay and Peterhead were well behind them when Brian decided to stop for some ice cream in Cullen.

They all got out when they got round to the Seatown part of the town, and sat on the sands to enjoy the treat.

‘Look at the three rocks over there,’ Dilly said. ‘They look like a family, as well. The one farther up the beach is the father, the middle one is the mother, and the smaller one just coming out of the sea is the child.’

‘I’d say they were probably all standing in the sea at high tide,’ Brian observed. ‘They’re quite a height, anyway. Look how small those people look beside them. Do you want to go and see them properly?’

The boy and girl were quite keen, but Roselle said, ‘No, I’d rather not. I don’t like the idea of stones being human. They give me the creeps.’

Brian grinned at Roddy. ‘Your mum’s got some peculiar ideas.’

But he didn’t try to force her, and took them a walk round the harbour before going back to the car. ‘This is great,’ he smiled as he turned on the ignition. ‘The whole family out for a jaunt. I’m glad you thought of it, Roselle.’

The other three nodded their agreement and off they set again, through all the quaint fishing villages, until they reached the signpost to Pennan, the setting for the film Local Hero. Brian had to carefully negotiate the extremely steep road down to the inn, where they went in for lunch. An hour later, their stomachs pleasantly full, they left the seaside and made for the main road to Aberdeen. The A90 was, as usual, very busy, but they all enjoyed this part of their trip as much as the first part. This route, of course, took them through agricultural land, fields of corn almost ready for harvesting, large areas of vegetable crops, and villages and towns completely different from those in the coastal areas.

They had taken Roddy’s haversack with them so it was straight to the Joint Station in Aberdeen, with some manoeuvring to get a parking place before going to the tea room for a quick snack. Roddy had been worrying over his departure all day. His family didn’t usually come to the station with him, and he feared an emotional farewell, and when his father pointed out that he wasn’t going to the other side of the world, it struck him that that was what he might be doing - should be doing.

His mother’s eyes were moist when he said, ‘Well, this is it,’ and without thinking he gave her a kiss on the cheek. This could be the last time he would see her. With this painful thought in his mind, he had to hold himself from kissing Dyllis too, knowing that he would have difficulty in breaking away from her. His father came forward to shake his hand, and luckily the guard blew his whistle, so he had only time to touch his sister’s hand briefly. Even the tears on her cheeks did not stop him from jumping aboard and by the time he found his seat, he was too far away for his family to see the tears trickling down his face. Having waved from the window until he could no longer see them, he sat down. He felt as if his heart had been torn from his body by some alien force and lashed with a whip until it bled.

Three very despondent people made the journey back to Cruden Bay, Roselle being the first to speak, her voice husky. ‘I don’t think we’re ever going to see him again.’

‘Don’t be so daft!’ her husband reprimanded, although the pressure of his son’s hand on his had made him suspicious. It had seemed as if the boy was bidding him a final farewell, but his wife couldn’t have thought that, too? Glancing in his mirror, he saw that his daughter was also wiping tears away, and his resolve to be strong for them wavered a little - but he had to reassure them. After all, he couldn’t be sure. He had probably imagined it. ‘He’s a bit upset with the misunderstanding over the Riley girl, and you can’t blame him, can you? Anyway, he won’t be going there for his weekends any longer, will he, so he’ll be home a lot more.’

Roselle’s sigh was long and deep. ‘Oh, I hope so. It’s just there was something about him, I can’t tell you …’ she broke off to look round at her daughter. ‘Did you not feel it as well, Dilly?’

‘I know he was upset,’ the girl said, carefully, ‘but he’ll get over it, won’t he?’

Her forlorn tone, her uncertainty, was almost Brian’s undoing, yet somehow he managed to save himself from giving way. Gulping, he said firmly, ‘What a pair of worriers you are. He’d be ashamed of you if he knew.’

It was the right approach. For a few moments there was silence, and then Dyllis said, ‘Of course he’ll be back Mum. It’s just because he hasn’t been home for a while that we feel like this. It’s stupid, really.’

In bed that night, however, she couldn’t convince herself of that. She could swear that what she had seen in his eyes just before he jumped aboard the train meant that they would never see each other again. He did love her, she was quite convinced of that, but he was just as sure that there was no future for them. If only he had believed her when she said she would go away with him whenever he wanted, that she didn’t care what other folk thought of them. That train of thought came to an abrupt end. Other folk, yes, but their parents would never forgive them. They were the ones who would suffer. They would have to face the inevitable scandal it would cause.

Much as she hated to think it, Roddy had done the honourable thing, the only thing, really. He was too decent to change his mind, so she would just have to accept it and get on with her life, though she might live to regret it when she was a lonely old maid. Upset by the prospect of having nobody to care for her thirty or forty years on, she turned over to sleep, or at least try to sleep, though she knew that she wouldn’t.

Roddy Lewis’s long journey back to Liverpool was taken up by imagining the poor quality of the life ahead of him, wherever he ended up. He could never love another girl, never have the comfort of a wife waiting at home to give him a welcoming kiss, with his slippers heating by the fire, a substantial meal ready for him. He’d be a decrepit old bachelor, grumpy with his landladies, working for no purpose at all, going to bed by himself with nobody to unburden his troubles to - for there would be troubles, there was no doubt about that.

He took a taxi to the office. It wouldn’t do to be late nowadays; not when he was intending to ask for a transfer to somewhere abroad. The firm had offices in Norway,

Canada, head office in New York, and probably lots of other branches he knew nothing about. There were oil companies all over the world. It didn’t matter to him where he was sent, of course, as long as it was far enough away to give him the excuse of not returning home. He wouldn’t be able to leave Dilly if he was ever in her presence again. It would be absolutely fatal.

All that morning he had quite a problem keeping awake, and dreaded meeting Tony Riley in any of the corridors. Thankfully, as he was on his way out to buy a couple of sandwiches for lunch, it was only Samantha - he didn’t know her surname - who ran into the lift as the doors closed, leaving him waiting for it to come back for him. She did say, quite breathlessly, ‘I’m sorry, Roddy’, whether because she didn’t have time to speak to him, or what had happened the previous week, he didn’t know. What did it matter, anyway?

He bought his Spartan lunch at the little delicatessen a few doors along the street, and strolled into the small island of green grass which passed as a place of recreation for many of the men and women who worked in the area. As he unwrapped the tuna baguette and unscrewed the top of his Coke, he began to plan what he would say to the Head Cashier; how he would explain his request for a transfer. He would have to wait until he was absolutely sure of his ground, sure that there were no black marks against him. He didn’t think there could possibly be anything, but maybe Tony Riley had concocted a revenge of some kind for the imagined rebuff of his sister. He’d been mad enough.

It took almost a week for Roddy to pluck up enough courage to ‘beard the lion in his den’, and although there had been no accusations or criticisms raised against him, he was so nervous that his stomach was churning as he tapped on the door. At the loud command to enter, he turned the handle and walked in.

The man sitting in the leather executive chair looked over his horn-rimmed glasses.

‘It’s young Lewis, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, sir. Can I speak to you for a minute, please?’

The bushy eyebrows went down. ‘I presume you can speak to me, but the question is - may you speak to me?’

His face scarlet, Roddy stammered, ‘I-I’m s-sorry, sir -that’s what I meant. Please may I speak to you?’

With a twinkle in the tired blue eyes, the brows lifted. ‘You may, but remember that I like my staff to talk in perfect English - it is easier for everyone concerned, especially if dealing with clients from foreign climes. Just say whatever it is that you have to say.’

The planned, well-rehearsed speech vanished from the boy’s mind, but he went on, doggedly, ‘I feel that I have … much to offer the company, but my present position …’

‘You think that you deserve promotion?’

The smile lurking at the corners of the other man’s mouth gave Roddy the boost he needed. ‘Well, yes sir, I do. I’ve been here for well over a year now, I’m nineteen and I’m still only a junior.’

‘The problem is, Lewis, that there is no vacancy available here at present, or likely to be in the foreseeable future. I do agree, however that you are worthy of promotion. Perhaps—’ The chief clerk tapped his desk as if hoping for inspiration, and then smiled. ‘Would you be interested if I suggested a transfer to another branch? Or is there a young lady - the real reason for your rebuttal of young Riley’s sister - who makes you want to remain in Liverpool?’

‘There is nothing to keep me here.’ Roddy could scarcely believe that it would be so easy. ‘I’ll be happy to go wherever you send me … sir.’

‘Distance no object?’

‘Distance no object, sir.’ The farther away the better, came the thought.

‘I must say I admire your spirit, Lewis, although I am rather inclined to believe that you need to extricate yourself from the situation in which you find yourself. No matter! I will find out if there is a suitable vacancy anywhere in our numerous branches, and let you know as soon as I can.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Turning, Roddy walked out as confidently as his trembling legs would carry him. He had been astonished that the Big Boss knew about Boppy Riley, and guessed that it had got round the whole staff. It was much better that he got away from here. Of course, it could take weeks or even months, but he’d been battling against his only real problem for well over a year now, and he was quite prepared to wait a reasonable amount of time to make the break from it. He would have to be careful to avoid bumping into Tony Riley, of course, and he’d have to spin some story to his mother about why he couldn’t come home. Telling her by letter that pressure of work meant that he was having to work every Saturday and Sunday would probably be the most believable, and though he hated having to lie to her, it had to be done.

That evening, after dining with two of Mrs O’Shaughnessy’s other boarders, he went back to his second floor room to compose the fatal missive. He tore up several attempts - too long-winded, too abrupt - and over two hours passed before he was satisfied. He longed to tell Dilly the true explanation for his transfer, but she knew how he felt, and would surely understand.