Authors: The Handkerchief Tree
‘I didn’t say he was taking him on.’
‘Took me on,’ said Cassie. ‘Oh, it’d be lovely if your cousin came to work here! Imagine seeing him instead of Mr MacNay!’
‘No’ instead of Mr MacNay, Cassie. He’d just be Mr MacNay’s assistant, if he’d be anything at all.’
‘As long as he ends up coming,’ sighed Cassie. ‘Why, it’d be like working with a film star, eh?’
‘A film star who can do accounts?’ Shona managed a smile. ‘That’d be a change.’
At a quarter to ten the following morning Brett arrived at Maybel’s. He was wearing his winter jacket which he removed to reveal a dark suit of good material and cut, with an immaculate white shirt, and seemed a little under strain when Brigid said she’d take him up to Mr Kyle’s office. Naturally he was looking round for Shona, but she was keeping in the background, trying to convince herself that what she’d brought about was really nothing to do with her. His dark eyes found her, though, and as hers sent the message –
Good luck!
– he smiled.
‘Oh, my,’ sighed Cassie when he’d left the front shop, a briefcase under his arm, to follow Brigid. ‘If it just went on looks he’d be given a job, eh?’
‘His looks won’t cut any ice with Mr Kyle,’ Shona said quietly.
Cassie’s blue eyes rested on her and she nodded. ‘Think it might go the other way? He’d rather your cousin doesn’t look like he does?’
‘All I’m saying is that Brett will have to show that he can be useful. Mr Kyle’s a businessman – he won’t want to spend money taking on somebody who doesn’t know what he’s doing.’
‘See Brett’s briefcase? I bet it’s full of his qualifications and good references.’
‘I just feel so sorry for him,’ put in Isla. ‘Interviews are so horrible, eh? I hated mine with Mrs May.’
‘Never mind, you got the job,’ Cassie said comfortingly, and Shona, moving to attend a customer coming through the door, wondered if that might be a good omen. On the other hand, of course, there was no job actually involved. Unless Mr MacNay had had a word, as he’d said he might. As she sold yet another bunch of daffodils, Shona felt she must be looking as strained as Brett himself.
Upstairs, Fraser was rising from his desk as Brigid showed in ‘Mr Webster’, trying not to show his surprise at the looks and style of Shona’s cousin. He’d been expecting someone so different, some sort of unpolished guy from abroad, and here was this fellow in a good suit with matinee idol looks and a charming manner! Hell, he’d said he didn’t stand a chance beside him, but that had been a joke. Now it seemed only the perfect truth.
‘Come in, Mr Webster,’ he said, drawing on his own ease of manner. ‘Take a seat by my desk. Thanks, Brigid.’
As Brigid reluctantly withdrew, Brett seated himself before Fraser’s desk, settling his briefcase on his knee, and looked expectantly at Shona’s boss, whose gaze was so riveted on him. After a pause, Fraser spoke. ‘Now, Mr Webster, I’m told you are a cousin of Miss Murray, my manageress?’
‘Yes, that’s right, sir. Our mothers were sisters.’
‘But your family emigrated to Canada, where you were brought up. Did you have any particular reason for coming to Scotland?’
‘Well, both my parents were Scottish. I’d heard a lot about the old country and thought I’d like to see it before I settled down.’
‘I see.’ Fraser shuffled papers on his desk while Brett opened his briefcase.
‘Mr Kyle, I’d like to say thank you for seeing me,’ he said earnestly. ‘It’s good of you to give up your time.’
‘Not at all. I’m always interested in finding the right staff, though I’m not at the moment advertising for any.’
‘I know, sir, that’s why I appreciate your seeing me.’
‘It was, of course, Miss Murray who told me about you.’ Fraser smiled briefly. ‘She’s anxious to help you find a job, so I said I’d see you.’
Brett had flushed a little. ‘Shona has been very helpful to me since I arrived. I’m very grateful.’
‘Quite right. Well, have you anything about yourself I can read to begin with?’
‘Yes, I’ve everything here.’ Brett opened his briefcase and passed a sheaf of papers across to Fraser. ‘The top one’s my own details, education and so on. Then there are my certificates of professional exams passed, and two references – one from my college tutor and one from the firm where I was working in Toronto.’
Fraser, leafing through the papers, raised his eyebrows. ‘Very impressive, at first glance. I see you have the Canadian qualification of CA – that’s good. You did well at college, and three years ago joined a Toronto accountancy firm.’
‘That’s correct.’
‘You weren’t worried about losing your place on the ladder at all? I mean, to come over here?’
Brett smiled. ‘I take the view you’ve only got one life, so you should see something of the world before you settle down. I decided to begin with Scotland, my parents’ country.’
‘But you will be returning to Canada, when you’ve seen what you want to see abroad?’
‘Definitely. My real roots are there.’
Fraser seemed to relax as he laid down Brett’s papers. For some moments he considered the young man whose great dark eyes were fixed on him. ‘Obviously, I’m going to have to study what you’ve given me,’ he said slowly. ‘I did say that I’d no plans to advertise for another accountant, but there has been a possible change in requirements. My present accountant, Mr MacNay, thinks that with the expansion of the business he does need some help. At the moment he’s responsible for looking after accounts for this florist’s and my market garden, our main supplier, but from the spring there’ll be a second florist’s here in Edinburgh. We’re not a huge concern, of course, but I think now it’s likely I might be able to offer you some work, on a temporary footing.’
‘That would be wonderful!’ Brett cried. ‘I’d appreciate that very much.’
‘Subject to my study of your application, of course, and possible taking up of references.’
‘Of course, Mr Kyle.’
‘How long might you be with us, would you say?’
‘It would be some months, at least.’
‘Excellent.’ Fraser rose, his large bulk overshadowing Brett’s slender frame as he, too, stood up. ‘If you leave your details with me, I’ll take you through to meet Stuart MacNay next door. He’ll be the one who’ll deal with the formal side of things, should you be appointed. Give him your address and we’ll be in touch.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
At the door, Fraser stood still, studying Brett’s face. ‘I expect after that you’d like to go down and have a word with your cousin, wouldn’t you?’
Brett’s eyes softened, his smile was tender, and Fraser’s heart gave a sudden stab of pain. ‘I can’t really say much yet,’ Brett murmured. ‘Unless it’s to say I’m hopeful.’
‘You could say that.’ Fraser opened his door. ‘Yes, just say you’re hopeful, Mr Webster.’
That evening Shona and Brett were, after all, celebrating. Having dinner in exactly the sort of restaurant Shona wanted to avoid, with the haughty waiters and French menus, but Brett hadn’t been warned and said when he celebrated he wanted it to be somewhere good.
‘But should we be celebrating yet?’ Shona asked. ‘You said you’d only been told to be hopeful.’
‘Yes, but look who said that – the boss himself! He should know whether I can hope or not.’
‘All right, it’s encouraging, but I’m still no’ happy coming out to an expensive place like this, Brett. I mean, you haven’t the money to throw around, have you?’
‘Throwing money around?’ He sipped his wine and laughed. ‘I like that idea, sounds great. As a matter of fact, I’m not too badly off. I saved up quite a bit to come here, you know.’
‘Savings don’t last for ever.’
‘But then I’ve my job to look forward to.’ Brett leaned forward, his eyes glinting. ‘Listen, Shona, I’ve something to tell you: I think I know who your special man is – the one you didn’t want to talk about.’
Shona drank some wine, frowning over what she considered its sharpness. A waiter came to serve their dessert course – something with meringue and ice cream – and she waited to reply until he’d gone.
‘Who is he, then?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘Well, isn’t it Mr Kyle? I’m not prying again, honestly, but it was so obvious today at the interview. His whole face sort of softened when he spoke your name; he couldn’t hide what he felt, even from me, just a candidate for a temporary job.’
Shona sighed. She picked up her spoon and began to eat her meringue. It was delicious, but she could hardly taste it. ‘You’re right,’ she said, finally laying down her spoon. ‘Mr Kyle is the man I didn’t want to talk about. I still don’t, but I might as well tell you that he’s asked me to marry him.’
Brett sat back in his seat, too taken aback, it seemed, to speak. ‘I see,’ he said at last. ‘Well, that’s a piece of news I didn’t see coming. Are you engaged, then?’
‘No. I haven’t given him my answer yet.’
‘You’re thinking about it?’
‘I have been.’
‘You’ve decided?’
‘Yes. I’m going to give him my answer on Thursday. We’re going to a musical show.’
‘I am your cousin,’ Brett said quietly. ‘If you’re going to be engaged, you might like to tell me.’
‘Coffee, sir?’ a waiter asked, clearing their dessert dishes, but Brett, looking at Shona’s face, asked only for the bill.
Outside, in the wintry street, he took her arm. ‘Look, don’t worry about it. What in hell am I thinking of? You don’t need to tell me anything. It’s your business and his, nothing to do with me. Please forgive me, Shona.’
‘I feel so bad, Brett, that’s the thing. I’ve sort of led him on, never saying from the beginning that we weren’t right for each other.’ As they walked towards their tram, she was almost crying. ‘But one time I did think we could make a go of it. Work together, like he said. Be partners in running the business. That’s what appealed, because I am ambitious, I want to get on and make money for deprived children, amongst other things.’
‘Sure, you wanted to do those things and you’d a right to take your time making a decision. It’s a big one, isn’t it, deciding who you’ll marry? You’ve nothing to be sorry about, Shona. Mr Kyle will understand.’
‘You’re very sympathetic, Brett. Thanks for trying to make me feel better.’
‘You shouldn’t be worrying, anyway. Happens all the time – someone loving, someone not. Can’t be helped.’
How many girls had loved him, Shona, wondered, and had not been loved in return? Had he really not minded, telling them?
‘Let’s get the tram,’ she said tiredly.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we take a taxi? Just another splash out, eh?’
‘No, you’ve spent enough tonight. And, see, there’s a tram coming. It’d be a waste of money to take a taxi.’
‘OK, then.’ He hurried with her towards the stop. ‘Mustn’t upset your Scottish soul, I suppose.’
‘Hey, you’re Scottish too!’
‘Would anybody think it?’
As the tram clanked to a halt, she looked at him fondly. ‘Maybe not, but whatever you are, you’re very kind.’
His gaze on her as they sat together in the tram was very sweet, very tender, as were their later farewells. No kissing, of course, just hugs and comfort, and hopes exchanged for good news soon. Shona even felt a little better after they’d parted, but by Thursday she was as apprehensive as ever.
Before the Gilbert and Sullivan concert Fraser took Shona to supper at a small restaurant during which nothing of importance was said. Shona did begin to speak of what was in her mind but Fraser put his finger over her lips and said, ‘Not now, dear girl, let’s enjoy our meal.’ And even when she tried to thank him again for seeing Brett, hoping to get some idea of what his verdict would be, he only shook his head and made no reply.
Supper over, they found their seats at the theatre. The curtains parted and on came the three little maids from school, singing and fluttering their fans so charmingly, with Fraser waving his hand in time and saying, ‘Oh, I do like
The Mikado
!’ while Shona was just wishing she could be a thousand miles away.
‘Coffee?’ Fraser asked in the interval, but agreed with her that the crush in the bar would be too great and they’d be better staying where they were. As she stared fixedly at the safety curtain, he suddenly took her hand. ‘Shona, you’re on pins, eh? Wanting to speak to me?’ She turned large, sad eyes on him, and he nodded. ‘I can feel it, you see, you wanting to tell me what you have to tell me, but the fact is, you needn’t. I know what you want to say. You don’t have to say a word.’
‘But, Fraser—’
‘No, I mean it. I was a fool ever to think you might take me on. It’s not just that you’re so young, it’s more . . . Well, I’m not the one, am I? You never pretended I was, and though I was all for saying it would come, that you’d love me as much as I love you, I knew in my heart it wouldn’t happen. So, let’s just forget about marriage plans and be good friends. What do you say?’
‘Oh, Fraser, I don’t know what to say. I just feel so bad—’
‘No, there’s no need for that. I shouldn’t have asked you for something you couldn’t give. Let’s not say any more.’
‘But, won’t you want me to leave?’
‘Leave? The shop? Are you crazy? Of course I don’t want you to leave! You’re still going to be my right hand; we’re going to work together. For God’s sake, don’t talk about leaving!’
‘And then there’s this.’ She touched his bangle on her wrist. ‘I should give this back to you, Fraser. Things were different when you gave it to me.’
‘That was a gift bought for you and for you to keep.’ He glanced at people returning to their seats. ‘There goes the bell. Better say no more.’
What more could she say? He’d been too nice, too thoughtful for her; she wished he’d been angry. Instead, he’d just been understanding, and sad.
And, oh, God, here came the company to perform excerpts from
The Gondoliers
, and Fraser was putting on his act again, humming and beating time, saying he loved
The Gondoliers
, as tears were stinging Shona’s eyes and she was trying hard not to let them fall.
Driving back to Baxter Row, Fraser was full of his plans. Everything was going smoothly with his purchase of the Morningside florist’s. Soon it would be his and then he could see about ordering new fittings, for the present owner had allowed the shop to become rundown. The only problem was he’d need an extra supplier for the regular stocking of flowers and plants. The present market garden could satisfy George Street’s needs, but for a second large shop he’d have to find another source. A challenge, eh? But he liked a challenge.