A Silver Lining Read online

  ‘You’re the last in,’ he told Jinny, checking the lights on the bicycle he used to ride home to Blackhall. ‘Your dad and Vi have just gone up and May was first. Said she had to do the cooking tonight.’

  ‘It’s her turn,’ Jinny told him, noting that he must have left his shop to talk to May. By the light of the streetlight she studied his good-looking face with its sensitive mouth, always ready to smile. He’d be right for May, she thought, and added: ‘We girls take it in turn to cook.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know, May told me. Said she’d already made a hotpot for you.’

  ‘Did it last evening. Very efficient, May.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ he said fervently before finally beginning to wheel his bike towards the Lothian Road, from where a hum of traffic could be heard. ‘’Bye then, Jinny. Have a nice evening.’

  ‘You must come and have tea with us sometime!’ she called after him. ‘You haven’t been for ages.’

  With colour rising to his face, he did not stop but called back that he’d like that very much, and Jinny, smiling again, watched him pedal away.

  The flat that had been Allan’s home before it was her family’s was of good size, with a living room, a separate little kitchen, two bedrooms – one double, one single – a boxroom and a bathroom. It was Josh who nobly slept in the boxroom, having given up the double room he’d shared with Etty to Jinny and Vi, while May had the single room.

  How well placed they were in Fingal Street compared to the cramped tenement flat where they’d lived before, Jinny still thought whenever she came home. Ma had always hated that, having to share a WC on the landing with other families and fill up a tin tub to take a bath. She’d been so glad when Mr Forth had offered them his old flat at a rent they could afford, but used to shake her head and say that how things went for you in life was all down to luck. And so it was, thought Jinny, though there were some who said you made your own luck. Whatever the truth of that, one thing was for sure – good luck had run out for Ma, through no fault of her own, when she had been taken by the pneumonia that killed her.

  Everyone was in the living room when she came in. May was setting the table while the hotpot she’d prepared for them all cooked in the oven, and Vi and Josh were sitting by the open fire, reading separate pages of the evening newspaper. Everything seemed warm and comfortable.

  ‘Och, that’s grand!’ Jinny cried when she’d taken off her coat and moved towards the fire. ‘Let me in, I’m frozen! Makes a difference, eh, having a fire like this instead of a kitchen range?’

  ‘A range is more useful,’ said Vi, looking up from her paper, her face so like Jinny’s yet somehow subtly different, perhaps only because her thoughts were different and reflected her dissatisfaction with the world. While Jinny took things as they were Vi was all for reform, her dark eyes regularly flashing over some injustice, making Jinny feel guilty that her dark eyes weren’t flashing too.

  ‘You can cook on a range,’ Vi added now, ‘and get hot water and warmth. Can’t say the same about a fire.’

  ‘Why, there’s a back boiler for the hot water!’ Jinny fast retorted. ‘Trust you to look on the dark side, Vi!’

  ‘Only facing facts,’ her sister replied with a sudden grin. ‘I’ll admit the fire’s nice to sit beside.’

  ‘Aye, come and thaw out, lassie,’ said Josh, rubbing Jinny’s cold hands. ‘That haar’s enough to chill your bones, eh?’

  ‘It’s just moving away now.’

  ‘Thank the Lord for that, seeing as I’ve to get back to the theatre after tea.’

  A handsome man in his late forties, with the dark eyes and hair his younger daughters had inherited, Josh looked across at May, who was bringing in her dish from the adjoining kitchen.

  ‘That ready, May?’

  ‘Quite ready, Dad. Come to the table and I’ll dish up.’

  Three

  May’s hotpot was excellent, with beef, potatoes and carrots, and as they all ate heartily Jinny said it was just the thing for a cold night and worth all her sister’s trouble the evening before.

  ‘Only thing is it’s my turn tomorrow and I’m only doing sausages, so don’t expect anything like this!’

  ‘Can’t expect beef every night,’ Vi remarked. ‘We’re lucky to have it at all.’

  ‘It was only brisket – pretty cheap,’ said May.

  ‘Aye, well, think of the folk in the tenements living on bread and dripping – if there’s any dripping.’

  ‘Come on, now, Vi,’ Josh said easily. ‘Don’t spoil our pleasure in May’s grand meal, eh?’

  ‘I’m not, Dad, it’s lovely – I’m only reminding you how it is for others.’

  ‘And I don’t need reminding, seeing as I was one o’ the others, as you call ’em, when I was a lad.’

  Vi lowered her eyes. ‘Sorry,’ she said after a moment. ‘I know times were hard for you then.’

  After another pause Jinny, to lighten matters, said cheerfully, ‘Saw your admirer tonight, May!’

  ‘What admirer?’ asked Josh, instantly diverted and frowning, while May was already beginning to turn pink.

  ‘Exactly – what admirer?’ she responded quickly. ‘Who on earth are you talking about, Jinny?’

  ‘Why, Allan, of course! He’d just locked up when I got home, said he’d seen you, May, and you’d told him what you’d been cooking.’

  ‘And how does a few polite words in passing make him my admirer?’

  ‘He must have been watching out for you because you were so early back, and – you know – it’s just the way he looks when he says your name. He’s always been sweet on you, May – isn’t that right, Vi?’

  ‘Don’t ask me, I’ve no time for all that romantic stuff,’ replied Vi, shrugging, and Josh nodded in agreement.

  ‘Nor me. Allan’s a nice lad but he’s never shown any romantic interest in you lassies that I’ve ever noticed.’

  That you’d decided not to notice, thought Jinny, who knew her father couldn’t yet bring himself to see that his girls might one day marry and ‘leave the nest’. Aloud, to calm things down, she changed the subject again to her own exciting news from Comrie’s.

  ‘Guess what? We’ve a new chap starting next week and he’s from Vienna! Mr Comrie’s nephew, no less, and a qualified confectioner. He makes gorgeous Austrian cakes, so Ross says. I can’t wait to meet him!’

  ‘What makes him so exciting?’ asked Vi. ‘Because he’s from Vienna, or because he makes gorgeous cakes?’

  ‘I don’t know if he’s exciting or not – he’ll be different, that’s all.’

  ‘There’s nothing different at Madame Annabel’s Hats,’ sighed May. ‘Except I did make a new hat today. A winter felt, dark red, with a curved brim – all set for Christmas.’

  ‘And I had a new row with the foreman over starting hours,’ put in Vi. ‘I mean, it’s ridiculous that women clock in at eight o’clock when they’ve everything to do at home before they come to work! Of course, Bob Stone said it wasn’t up to him, I’d have to take it up with the union – as though I haven’t done that already!’

  ‘Uphill work there, Vi,’ commented Josh, his eyes on what was left in May’s dish. ‘Any chance of me finishing that off, May? Don’t want to waste it, eh?’

  ‘Sure, we’ll let you finish it, Dad, before you go back to work. What shall we do, girls? There’s a Ronald Colman picture on at the Princes cinema – anybody keen?’

  ‘I am!’ cried Jinny, and even Vi said she wouldn’t mind.

  ‘All workers need escapism, eh?’

  ‘Right, then,’ said May. ‘When we’ve done the washing up, we’ll go – right?’

  ‘Right!’ they echoed, and while their father was on duty at the theatre they were far away in the country of Shangri-la, watching Lost Horizon in the cinema, caught up wonderfully in the escapism Vi said all workers should have, all their slight frictions forgotten.

  Four

  Monday morning came at last, a grey cold day but without the haar, and Jinny, early
to work, hurried into Accounts even before Ross, who usually beat her to it. For some moments she stood irresolutely, wondering if the man from Vienna had arrived yet, before realizing that of course he’d be coming in with his uncle. He didn’t usually arrive till getting on for nine.

  ‘You’re nice and early!’ came Ross’s voice and she swung round to find him smiling at her, knowing, of course, why she’d made her special effort.

  ‘Not here yet?’ he asked lightly.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Oh, come on! Herr Linden, of course. Or, should I say Der Leutnant? That means lieutenant.’

  ‘Whatever are you talking about, Ross?’

  ‘I’m just guessing that he’s done service in the army. Don’t all Germans and Austrians do army service?’

  ‘As though I’d know. Anyway, there’s no need to make fun.’

  Jinny moved to her desk and began to bang open drawers and look as though she was starting work, but Ross only laughed, and then of course she laughed too, for she could never be cross with him for long.

  ‘Suppose I am being a bit nosy about wanting to meet him. It’s just like I said to my sister – he’s different, that’s all. Maybe we won’t see him at all today. Mr Comrie will want to take him to the bakery.’

  But it wasn’t long before they did see the man from Vienna, for Mr Comrie, arriving earlier than usual, brought with him a tall, straight-backed young man in a long dark overcoat and a trilby hat, which he swept off to reveal fair hair cut very short.

  ‘Ross – Jinny – this is my nephew, Viktor Linden,’ Mr Comrie announced. ‘Viktor, may I introduce Mr MacBain, my accountant, and Miss Hendrie, his assistant.’

  The young man, smiling gravely, gave a bow, then shook hands, first with Ross and then with Jinny, his hand cold and firm, his light blue eyes meeting theirs very keen, very direct. Was it Jinny’s imagination or did his gaze linger a little longer on her than Ross? Her imagination, undoubtedly, she told herself at once, feeling foolish.

  ‘I’m so glad to meet you,’ he said now, his tone formal, his Austrian accent only slight. ‘I’m so looking forward to working here at the bakery.’

  ‘Everyone is looking forward to working with you,’ Ross assured him cheerfully. ‘We hope you’ll be very happy here.’

  ‘Very happy,’ Jinny added quickly, not wanting to be seen studying the newcomer more than was polite but making no effort to look away from his face. It did not appear to her to be particularly foreign, just very good looking, the nose high bridged, the brow quite noble, the mouth finely shaped. That stubbly short haircut, though, did seem different and the way the young man held himself, so straight, so erect – wasn’t that a bit like a soldier’s style? Ross had joked about him, calling him ‘Der Leutnant’, but perhaps he’d been right, after all?

  Glancing at Ross, Jinny saw that he was looking slightly amused – as though he’d been thinking what she’d been thinking. But why be amused? If the young man had had to do military service, he couldn’t be blamed for having the air of a soldier – and didn’t the look suit him, anyway?

  ‘I have two right-hand men in my business, Viktor,’ Mr Comrie was saying. ‘One is Mr Whyte, my bakery manager – you’ll meet him soon – and the other is Mr MacBain here, who knows everything there is to know about costings, prices, wages, estimates, insurance and business in general. What I’d do without him I do not know, but I’m hoping I never have to find out! Right, Ross?’

  ‘If you say so, Mr Comrie,’ Ross answered, smiling. ‘But don’t forget, Miss Hendrie here is knowledgeable too. We’ll both do our best to help you, Mr Linden, if there’s anything you need to know.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr MacBain, I appreciate that.’ Viktor gave another little bow and turned to Jinny, who now lowered her eyes. ‘Miss Hendrie.’

  ‘Oh, I hope I’m not late!’ cried a voice at the door and Mabel Hyslop came hurrying in, wrapped in a checked coat and woollen scarf, a beret over her thinning hair. ‘My tram was full, I’d to wait for another, Mr Comrie, and I did want to be on time today—’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re not late,’ he told her genially, ‘we’re early. Let me introduce my nephew, Viktor Linden. Viktor, meet Miss Hyslop, my secretary – another expert on all things to do with Comrie’s.’

  Mabel blushed, and there was the shaking of hands and more polite words again, until Mr Comrie ushered his nephew into his office, telling him to hang up his overcoat, exclaiming over his fine grey suit: ‘My word, Viktor, you won’t want to be wearing that in the bakery, will you? Is that what you wear in your Viennese place?’

  ‘Not at all, Uncle, I wear a white overall and hat – see, I have them here in this bag.’ Viktor smiled. ‘I think I know the effect flour has on good suits!’

  ‘Ha, ha, of course, you do!’ Mr Comrie gave one of his ready laughs. ‘But now, before we go to the bakery, let me take you down to meet the manageress, Mrs Arrow, and the staff of the shop and the teashop. Why, we might even have a coffee down there! They won’t be open yet, but they’ll open for us, eh? Miss Hyslop, I’ll be with you later. Meantime, there are couple of letters on my desk to type.’

  ‘Certainly, Mr Comrie.’

  As soon as the uncle and nephew had departed, Mabel rushed into Ross’s office, her eyes gleaming. ‘Oh, my, what a handsome young man, eh? He’ll have all the girls after him here, mark my words. Did you ever see such blue eyes? So keen – like sailor’s eyes, I’d say!’

  ‘As I think he seems like a soldier, we only need someone to say he looks like a pilot and we’ll have him in all three services,’ Ross said coolly. ‘And I rather think the girls downstairs won’t get very far.’

  ‘Why not?’ Jinny asked at once. ‘There are some very pretty girls in the shop and the café.’

  ‘Why, he’s sure to have a fraulein of his own back home,’ Ross said carelessly. ‘Shall we get to work, then?’

  ‘I’m sure I’m ready to do my work, Ross!’ Mabel cried, her face puckering. ‘No need to tell me, I promise you!’

  ‘Nor me,’ said Jinny, seating herself at her own desk as Mabel, sniffing, returned to Mr Comrie’s office. ‘Why so snappy, Ross?’

  ‘I’m not being snappy. When am I ever snappy?’

  ‘Not often,’ she agreed, and gave him a long, level look. ‘You don’t like him, do you? You don’t like Mr Viktor Linden?’

  ‘I’ve only just met him.’

  ‘Don’t always need time to know what you think of someone.’

  Ross shrugged. ‘I expect he’s all right. What did you think of him, then?’

  ‘He’s very good looking,’ she replied obliquely, and began to study the wages book, while Ross, after giving her a return stare, suddenly laughed.

  ‘I’ve just thought – if Mrs Arrow gives him a coffee downstairs he’ll be in for a shock. Probably won’t know what he’s drinking.’

  ‘Something wrong with our coffee?’

  ‘No, no, it’s just that in Vienna drinking coffee is almost a religion. There are so many kinds – maybe as many as fifteen – and all so delicious that you’re absolutely spoiled for choice. Our one brand will seem strange to anyone used to Viennese ways.’

  ‘Well, he’s come here to learn about our ways, hasn’t he?’ Jinny asked quickly. ‘And I’m sure he’ll be very polite, whatever he thinks.’

  ‘Of course,’ Ross agreed. ‘Of course he will.’

  And no more was said.

  Five

  After the exciting morning, things seemed flat for Jinny. Viktor Linden had returned only once to his uncle’s office – to collect his overcoat before going to the bakery, and though he had very definitely smiled at Jinny as he walked through Accounts, he didn’t linger to speak. Ross was out at the time, which meant that if she and the Viennese had exchanged a few words she wouldn’t have been inhibited by Ross’s presence, but there it was – Viktor Linden hadn’t stopped. He probably wasn’t interested. Why should he be, when this was his first day and he had so much to see and learn and so
many people to meet?

  As she worked, totalling up figures and costs of ingredients used the previous week, she put the new man firmly out of her mind, deciding that Ross was probably right, he no doubt had a girlfriend back home, and anyway, why should she be so interested? She’d never been interested in the young men she had occasionally been out with – why should this chap from abroad be any different? Oh, because he was. Different.

  When her lunchtime break came and Ross was back she went down to the shop, as she usually did, to buy at staff discount a couple of filled rolls to eat in the back room which adjoined the kitchen, and found the assistants agog with chat about Mr Comrie’s nephew.

  In between expertly wrapping up bread and cakes for customers, Kirsten, Polly and Rhoda were fizzing with excitement. Had Jinny met him, then? Was he no’ a charmer? Such blue eyes and so tall! And such wonderful English! Why, they hadn’t expected to understand a word he said, but he was so nice, so interested!

  It was the same in the tea shop when Jinny went to pick up her cup of tea, with the waitresses – Audrey, Joan and Fiona – as full of admiration for Mr Linden as the shop girls, and even Mrs Arrow, the thin, sharp manageress, was keen to talk about him.

  ‘Asked me if the customers liked to sit outside in the summer, and when I told him we never put out tables he said that folk in Vienna love to sit outside. And outside or in they stay for hours, just chatting away over a single coffee sometimes, and I said we’d never hold with that – why, we need the space!’

  ‘Of course you do,’ said Jinny at the door, cup in hand. ‘But things are very different there.’

  ‘So it seems. But I gave him a cup of our coffee and he seemed to like it. At least, he didn’t say he didn’t. And he said our cakes looked excellent.’ Mrs Arrow suddenly frowned. ‘Just hope he doesn’t go making too many of his own, though. Mr Comrie muttered something about trying out his sort in the shop and in here too. I’m no’ sure how they’ll go.’