The Shadow of the Sycamores (12 page)

Hearing footsteps, she looked up expecting to see her father and mother outside but it wasn’t them. It was a young man who reminded her of … it
was
Henry Rae and he had walked straight past. Not taking time to wonder why he hadn’t come in to see her, Fay raced out to call him back. ‘Henry! Henry!’

He turned uncertainly, even reluctantly, she thought, wishing that she had just let him go wherever he was going but his slight frown disappeared into a broad beam of sheer delight as he ran towards her. ‘Henry,’ she murmured, her throat constricting, her cheeks on fire, her heart thumping a merry tattoo.

Caught up in emotions too strong to deny, she ran into his open arms and was swung off the ground in his exuberant hug. Little they knew, or cared, that the church had disgorged its congregation and that dozens of people, her parents included, were witness to their show of love.

Their euphoria was not to last. In just a few seconds, Joseph Leslie was hauling his daughter away and pushing her through the shop door, waiting until they were inside before he gave vent to his feelings. ‘What do you think you were doing?’ he roared. ‘Not only were you making a fool of yourself, you were making a fool of me. What must people think of me for not teaching my daughter what is decent and what is indecent
behaviour? I have never, ever, seen such a disgraceful show …’

‘I think you have gone far enough, Joseph.’ His wife had brought the shaken Henry in with her. ‘They were doing nothing indecent, as well you know, and everyone was smiling, not criticising. Just the same,’ she continued, addressing the two young people, ‘it is not exactly seemly to hug in the street.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Leslie.’ Henry’s face was burning now with embarrassment at what he had done and the disgrace of it but also with the heat of the passion which had swept through him when he was holding the girl of his dreams in his arms. ‘I didn’t mean any harm, it was … I thought Fay wouldn’t want to have anything to do with an odd-job man and, when I realised that she felt the same as I did, I … didn’t think.’

Fay, who had been reduced to tears by her father’s verbal assault, now plucked up courage to say, ‘It wasn’t all your fault, Henry. I was just as much to blame.’

Taking note that boy and girl were holding hands, Catherine Leslie looked sternly at her husband. ‘Have you forgotten how it feels to be young and in love? There were times when you couldn’t wait and you kissed me wherever we were.’

‘Certainly not if anyone could see us,’ he retorted but his tone was less harsh.

‘I didn’t notice anybody there.’ Henry was almost wishing that he had not been so impulsive. It should have been a private moment, not a peep show for all and sundry.

Catherine’s smile was wide. ‘I think we should draw a curtain over the incident, Joseph. It was certainly not planned. Now, Henry, you will stay for some dinner? Then you and Fay can go for a walk and talk things over.’

Later, alone with her still brooding husband, Catherine asked him why he was so against Henry. ‘I thought you liked him. He is a decent boy, hard-working …’

‘I did like him but liking is one thing, having him courting my daughter is an entirely different matter. Hard working, you said? An odd-job man in an asylum? What kind of work is that? How can he hope to provide for a wife and family on what he earns?’

‘I should not imagine that he will be an odd-job man for ever. As a married man, he will have ambitions but, even if he does not, I am sure that Fay would not mind being an odd-job man’s wife. Love is all-powerful.’

‘Love is blind!’ he sneered.

‘Yes, Joseph, that is true, too. I have not exactly been happy to have my only daughter coming in contact with men and women who were perhaps carrying all sorts of diseases but I knew that you loved your work and I loved you so I said nothing.’

‘You have not been happy here?’ Joseph sounded incredulous. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I got over it. I have been happy with you, Joseph, though I must say it would be nice if you showed me a little more affection.’

‘Ah, Catherine, I am sorry. I was never one for displaying my feelings but I do care for you. I do … love you.’

‘I know, really, but it needs to be said occasionally, don’t you see?’

‘Indeed I do … but to get back to the present problem. You are not honestly suggesting that I accept Henry Rae as a suitable husband for Fay?’

She grinned at his serious face. ‘Yes, I
am
honestly suggesting that. They love each other and that is all that matters.’

‘Love conquers all?’

‘Yes, it can if they work at it.’

Fay had almost as much of a problem in making Henry understand that she loved him and didn’t mind what he worked at or where.

‘But your father won’t agree to our marrying,’ he said sorrowfully, ‘and I wouldn’t blame him. I would want better for my daughter if I had one.’

‘We will have one,’ she beamed, her kiss making him ache to marry her as soon as it was possible. ‘More than one and sons and … oh, Henry, isn’t it wonderful?’

Not so sure that marriage would ever be an option, he gave
a valiant smile. ‘It couldn’t be more wonderful, my darling.’

When they returned to the shop, Catherine said brightly, ‘I expect you have something to ask Fay’s father, Henry?’

This aspect not having been discussed, the youth hesitated, but the girl’s prod made him burst out, ‘Yes, I have. Mr Leslie, will you give me your permission to court your daughter … with a view to marriage?’

Again a little hesitation, again a little prod, before Joseph muttered, ‘I have been talked into this and I am still doubtful about the wisdom of it but I give my permission for you to court Fay. Just remember, if you let her down, you will have to answer to me.’

‘I won’t let her down, Mr Leslie, I promise.’

On his long walk back to The Sycamores, Henry went over everything that had happened that day. Fate had made Fay notice him going past because he didn’t believe, even now, that he would have had the courage to go into the shop to see her. An even kinder Fate had let him know that she felt as deeply for him as he did for her but they were not out of the woods yet.

Joseph Leslie had given his permission to the courtship but had avoided any mention of marriage. He was likely hoping that Fay would tire of the relationship and bring it to an end before it got as far as marriage. If that was the case, Henry thought grimly, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

After walking out with Fay once a week for over a month, Henry still hesitated about giving her any hint of how deeply he felt about her. For one thing, he suspected that her father was anything but happy about the courtship. No doubt Joseph Leslie had anticipated having a son-in-law he’d be proud to present to his friends – tall, handsome and, most importantly, with a business of some kind at his back, a man who could provide a home even better than the one she would be leaving. A short, scruffy odd-job lad like himself could never hope to equal, never mind better, the house over the pharmacist’s shop.

This feeling of uncertainty and inadequacy wasn’t all that held Henry back. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Fay – he worshipped the very ground she walked on – but he was afraid that he could have inherited his father’s outrageous needs. He was determined not to cut
his
wife’s life short like his mother’s had been but would he be able to withstand the temptations of the marriage bed?

On returning from Drymill one night, he relived the thrill of just being with Fay and having his arm round her slender waist. He had tried this for the first time that very evening and she hadn’t objected. The thing was, he reflected sadly, he had better not go any further than that. It would be so easy to lose his head altogether, which would put a full stop to their relationship.

His workmates, of course, teased him about his lass and Max was desperate to meet her but he meant to prevent that at all costs. He wasn’t going to run the risk of her falling for his friend who had much more charm than he had. None of the lassies at The Sycamores had ever turned Max down –
they even seemed content to share him for he made no secret of the fact that he didn’t stick to one.

Not for the first time in his life, Henry felt a flicker of jealousy at his friend’s good looks. Apart from standing six feet two in his socks, he had a slim, yet muscular, body, his skin was healthily tanned from working out of doors, his fair curly hair had been bleached by the sun and his eyes, a piercing blue, always had the glint of mischief with a hint of passion lurking within. There was no comparison between the two of them, the dejected Henry concluded. His own mousy hair was dead straight, with a bit sticking up at the back no matter how much he brushed it or dowsed it with water – a cow’s lick, his Gramma had called it. His fair skin didn’t tan so his face was as red as … a turkey cock. He was too short and, although not really fat, he was undeniably chubby. The minute Fay set eyes on Max, she would be lost.

There were other times, thankfully, when Henry laughed off his fears, when he was sure that Fay wasn’t the kind to jump from one lad to another, that she at least liked him, which was a good foundation, a solid foundation, for a courtship.

The two youths were taking a stroll one frosty night in November, before going to bed, when Max said, ‘I can tell you’re serious about your lass but you never tell me any of the … you ken … the juicy bits.’

Annoyance at what he took as a gross indelicacy passed over Henry’s face. ‘There’s no juicy bits to tell.’

Max’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Dinna try to tell me that! How d’you feel when you kiss her? Does she kiss you back? Does she?’

‘I havena kissed her.’

Screwing up his nose now, Max gasped, ‘Govey Dick, man, what d’you do when you’re out wi’ her?’

‘I put my arm round her waist a couple o’ weeks back and …?

‘You mean it took you a’ this time to put your arm round her waist?’

‘I’m not like you, Max. I respect her, you see.’

‘You’d best hurry up and let her see you mean business, then, or some other lad’ll turn her head and you’ll end up losing her.’

In bed, Henry gave this statement deep consideration and came to the conclusion that Max was right. Whatever sacrifices he had to make in the future to avoid filling her belly, he would have to court her properly and let her know that he was serious. He would have to ask her to marry him as soon as he could – next time he saw her.

During the two days he had to wait, Henry’s courage ebbed and flowed several times but, fortunately for him, when Fay came out in answer to his knock, it was at its peak. He slid his arm round her waist in just a few minutes and once they were clear of the houses, he pulled her towards him. ‘I’ve something to ask you, Fay,’ he began, his wavering voice gaining strength as he went on, ‘and I’d thank you not to say anything till I’ve finished.’

Her trusting eyes were almost his undoing but he carried on after a brief hesitation. ‘We’ve only been going out for a few weeks, but … well …’ He stopped to clear his throat. ‘What I’m saying … what I mean … you’ll likely think I’m too forward but … it’s like this …’

She laid her finger over his lips. ‘I know what you’re trying to say, Henry, and I know you’re scared to come out with it but I’d really like to hear it. Would it help if I told you that I love you, too?’

With a strangulated moan, he held her tightly and kissed her soft, sweet lips as he gathered the strength to utter the words she wanted to hear. Then, letting her head rest on his shoulder, for she scarcely topped five feet, he murmured, ‘Aye, I love you and all, Fay Leslie, and I want to wed you but …’

She lifted her head to look at him. ‘No buts, Henry. If you want to marry me, ask me properly. Ask me now!’

‘Dearest Fay,’ he whispered, his lips against her cheek, ‘will you … do me the … honour of becoming my wife?’

‘My darling, darling boy,’ she said softly, but triumphantly,
‘it was easy, wasn’t it?’ She gave his ear a teasing nibble. ‘And the answer is yes so there
are
no buts.’

‘But there
is
a but. What will your father say? I’ve nothing to offer you …’

‘All I want is you,’ she breathed, her kiss proving the truth of it.

‘What about your father?’

‘It might be better if you ask him but we are both over sixteen and we don’t need parental permission – not as the law stands.’

When Henry returned to The Sycamores, Max took one look at his smug expression and burst out laughing. ‘You sly dog! You’ve done it, haven’t you? You’ve actually gone and done it?’

Henry couldn’t help puffing out his chest. ‘I have that.’

‘Tell me, then! What happened? How does it feel? Is it as good as they all make out? Did she just let you do it without trying to stop you?’

Gradually realising that they were talking at cross-purposes, Henry blushed a deep crimson. ‘I didn’t do what you’re meaning … I wouldn’t do anything like that to her … I just … asked her to marry me … and she said yes.’

‘Och, you!’ Disappointment oozing from every pore, Max shook his head as if despairing at his friend’s lack of backbone. ‘Well, you’ve done it now, lad, and there’s no going back.’

‘I wouldn’t want to go back,’ Henry said spiritedly. ‘We love each other and it won’t matter what her father says or …’ He paused, then added pensively, ‘So you don’t know what it’s like? You that spins stories about what the lassies say and do and …’ Throwing back his head, he roared with laughter. ‘The great Max Dalgarno, lover of more than half-a-dozen … or so he says … and he’s never done it once.’

Max did have the grace to look shamefaced. ‘It was them tormenting me, the other lads … you ken. I couldna let them think I was … scared to touch a lassie …’

Henry could scarcely believe this. ‘Scared? You? The things you said … Were you never even tempted?’

‘If there had been a lass I really fancied, I suppose I’d have been tempted but … well, it was all just a bit o’ fun, just kittlin’ an’ larkin about.’ Max turned his powerful blue eyes on his friend in appeal. ‘You’ll not tell?’

Feeling that he had the upper hand for once, Henry smiled beatifically. ‘I’ll not tell … if you stop asking things you’ve no business asking.’