Primrose Square by Anne Douglas Page A

suddenly came to me that I could see you on one of ’em. I could say I had to go shopping, or something. Then we could meet, have tea, walk somewhere?’
    â€˜Oh, that’d be wonderful!’ His eyes were shining, his hand in hers, pressing hard. ‘Oh, Elinor, what a terrific girl you are! When will it be? When can we meet?’
    â€˜I’ll tell you at the next class,’ she promised, and for a long moment they stood, holding hands, exchanging looks, until she pulled herself free and they both walked fast away, feeling, as their feet touched the old pavement flags, that they were walking on air.

Twenty
    â€˜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.
    â€˜What jug, Mrs Petrie? What d’you mean?’
    â€˜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.
    â€˜Aye, you’re looking very happy, Elinor.’
    â€˜Very pleased with herself, I’d say!’ cried Mrs Petrie. ‘All this just to see your folks, then?’
    â€˜It is my Saturday afternoon off,’ Elinor replied smartly. ‘I suppose I can look happy if I like?’
    â€˜You’ve looked happy for days, is what I’ve noticed. Got a secret admirer, then?’
    â€˜No!’ Elinor cried, a flush staining her cheeks. ‘Look, I’m off. See you tonight.’
    â€˜Well, don’t be late. There’s plenty work waiting.’
    â€˜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