Trio - [6]

She went in and up the stairs.

‘Bit parky out there,’ Betty commented as Joan hung her scarf on the rack. ‘You know what you get, sitting in the cold?’

Frozen, thought Joan. She could see Duncan through the open door to his office at the end of the larger room, pretending to read, but she could tell from the set of his back that he was eavesdropping.

‘Piles,’ said Betty.

‘That’s from stones,’ she couldn’t help smiling, ‘not benches.’

Betty grunted and returned to her ledger.

‘Joan,’ he called.

She walked to the doorway.

‘Any chance of staying on a bit today? I’ve a whole heap of these to get done.’

‘Yes,’ she said simply.

Megan

Soulmates they were, her and Brendan. Made for each other. She watched him at the counter, waiting for the girl to get the coffees from the big machine. Even looked alike, same flame-red hair and bright blue eyes. She’d more freckles though. She knew they’d get married. Everyone kept on about how young they were but that was daft. They were both in work, what else was there to wait for? They’d need to save a bit, of course, they’d have to stay at her mammy’s till they got on the housing list.

She’d seen a lovely ring, white gold, quite plain.

He brought back the drinks.

‘You’d make a good waiter,’ she teased.

‘Go on. Dying breed with all the self-service.’

‘They won’t bring it in everywhere,’ she said scornfully. ‘Restaurants and that’ll still have service.’

The grocers on Mount Street had put out fruit and veg and a sign saying pick your own.

‘I don’t fancy that,’ her mammy had pronounced, ‘everyone handling the fruit. Silly notion.’

Mammy was still stuck back in the old country. She didn’t like modern stuff. Megan did.

Even their names practically rhymed – Megan, Brendan.

She poured sugar in her drink and stirred at the froth, watched the gaggle of lads and lasses piling in from the pictures. Waved hello to those she knew.

When she turned back Brendan was pulling a daft face; sucking his spoon so hard that his nose was pinched and white.

‘Give over,’ she laughed.

He crossed his eyes.

‘Eejit. Put ‘Living Doll’ on… and ‘Dream Lover’.’

He waggled his eyebrows at her and licked his lips.

‘Go on.’

He went over to the jukebox and put his money in, pressed the buttons. Megan watched the records move round and the black disc selected and lowered to the turntable. She joined in the song.

‘Fancy a walk?’ Brendan asked.

‘I’d better get back, they’ve left Kitty in charge and they’ll all be swinging from the chandeliers.’

He frowned.

‘I told you,’ she shoved his arm. ‘They’ve gone to see Some Like It Hot.’

‘Ten minutes,’ he bartered.

‘It’s flippin’ freezing out there.’ She knew exactly what Brendan’s ten-minute walk would involve.

‘I’ll keep you warm.’ He did his John Wayne voice, making his eyes go sleepy-looking.

‘I know your sort of warm,’ she said primly.

His eyes flew open and he looked shocked. She snorted, got a load of bubbles up her nose. Wiped at her face. ‘Come on, take me home,’ she drained her cup.

‘Kathleen,’ he joked. ‘What mass are you going to?’ He wouldn’t give up.

She caught her lip between her teeth, teasing him a moment. ‘Early, I think.’

He winked and caught her hand.

She smiled.

The rest of the family went to the eleven o’clock. It gave Brendan and Megan the run of the place for a whole hour, though the last ten minutes were always spent setting the table and getting the veg on so it looked like they’d been making themselves handy.

Very handy.

She smiled again and pulled away. Outside, they linked arms. It was bitterly cold for September. The sudden frosts had caused most of the trees to drop early and the smell of rotting leaves mingled with the smoke from coal fires and the stink of dye factories along the canal.

She pulled her muffler up to cover her nose and pulled him closer.

Caroline

Caroline just couldn’t believe that you could get pregnant on your first time. Her understanding of it was a bit hazy, though she knew something from seeing the animals on the farm where she helped out and from the local wildlife to have a rough idea of the way of the world.

It was when she tried to apply it to her own experience that things got all mixed up. For example, they had to keep Bess, the dog, inside when she was on heat or there’d have been pups. But Caroline’s mam had told her that her own monthlies were a clearing-out, so how did that work?

She turned over in bed. The room was bitter now and although she had heaped extra blankets on and wore her socks her toes were like ice and she knew she wouldn’t sleep until they were warm. She reached down, her head under the covers, to rub at her feet.

If she’d only known, if she’d had an inkling. It had all been so quick. Five minutes. If only she could take that five minutes back.

A barn dance to mark the end of harvest. Jim Colby, chuffed at the amount of hay baled in his barns and the promise of a good fruit crop to follow. A hot summer had blessed them.

Caroline liked Roy, Jim’s middle son. A quiet, hard-working boy with sulky, film-star looks like Montgomery Clift. Roy had no steady girl and despite his looks no bad reputation. He was shy and didn’t mix much.