Primrose Square by Anne Douglas

‘You’re sure you’re happy about this?’
    She nodded, as excited as he, and together they made their way into the West Princes Street Gardens; by day, filled with strolling visitors taking in the park-like atmosphere, looking at the statues of famous Scots, listening to the band, but now, of course, dark and quiet. Not completely empty, though. Elinor was sure there must be other couples around somewhere. She decided not to try to see them.
    â€˜The thing is, I feel guilty,’ Stephen was murmuring. ‘Asking you to walk with me here at this time of night. What would your parents say?’
    â€˜I’m a grown-up; I’ve a right to walk with you if I want to.’
    â€˜You know that’s not how it is. Girls – they have to be protected.’
    â€˜Protected?’ Elinor smiled. ‘Have you seen the way some folk live in the tenements? Girls there have to learn to protect themselves.’
    â€˜Have you had to do that?’ he asked quickly, but she shook her head.
    â€˜No, I’ve been lucky.’
    â€˜There have been men in your life, though?’
    â€˜No. No men.’
    â€˜Come, there must have been. Someone who looks like you – you’re telling me there’ve been no admirers?’
    â€˜Stephen, when would there have been men in my life? When I left school, I went straight into service where the only man was the lawyer married to my employer and he never even looked at me. Then I moved to a women’s club.’ In the semi-darkness, Elinor’s smile was now gently teasing. ‘So, you see, no men.’
    â€˜No men.’ He drew her slowly into his arms. ‘And no kisses?’
    â€˜No,’ she whispered. ‘No kisses.’
    He held her close. ‘Would you mind if I kissed you now?’
    â€˜You’re asking?’
    It all seemed strange to her, not what she’d expected from this closeness in the darkness of the gardens. Did men usually ask before they kissed a woman? It wasn’t what she’d heard. But perhaps men like Stephen did. Men who felt guilty if they walked with a girl and her father didn’t know?
    â€˜No, I’m not asking!’ he suddenly cried, and kissed her on the mouth, holding her shoulders with his hands, making the kiss long and at first gentle, then stronger, until he finally let her go and they stood together, breathing hard.
    So this was what kissing meant? This was why men wanted it and girls liked it, Elinor was thinking, for it stirred up so much feeling, so much pleasure. She knew, of course, what it could lead to, although only in theory, for it was true what she’d told Stephen: there had been no men in her life, and certainly no kissing. And certainly not what could follow kissing, either, though she knew about that, too. Had seen the lassies with their bairns, sometimes with wedding rings, sometimes not. So, in a way, she felt herself experienced. But this was her first kiss.
    â€˜You minded?’ Stephen asked anxiously. ‘That I kissed you?’
    â€˜No.’ She put her fingers to her lip. ‘I knew you would.’
    â€˜Oh, God, I knew I would, too. Look, I’m sorry.’
    â€˜Stephen, there’s no need to be sorry. I didn’t mind, I liked it, but now I have to go, eh?’
    â€˜Yes, of course. Of course, you have to go. The last thing I want is for you to be late.’
    They began to hurry from the gardens, hoping, in their moment of intense feeling, that no one would see them, or, at least, would take no notice of them, and no one did. Together, they ran across the road to Maule’s Corner, but when Stephen sighed and said he supposed he’d have to let her go on by herself, Elinor told him not to look so glum.
    â€˜I’ve thought of a way we could meet.’
    â€˜You don’t mean it! How, Elinor, how?’
    â€˜Well, you know I’ve been going home twice a month on free Saturday afternoons? It