Wait for Me. Caroline Leech

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СКАЧАТЬ hand. “This isn’t about the note, this is about you. Now, I’ve been thinking again about you applying to the university for next year.”

      Lorna wanted to groan. It would have been better for Mrs. Murray to scold her for the note passing than this torture. “Mrs. Murray, you know that my father—”

      “Yes, I know you’ve told me before that he’s not keen on you continuing your education after you get your school certificate in June, so perhaps I need to go and talk to him—”

      “No! Really, you don’t have to do that.” Lorna tried to calm her voice. “He needs me at Craigielaw, that’s all.”

      Mrs. Murray studied her for a moment.

      “Well, I’m not so sure,” replied Mrs. Murray. “You have too bright a mind to rot on a farm your whole life, and I’m sure he knows that. Remind me of your birthday, dear. April, isn’t it? That’s when you’ll legally become an adult. So you’ll have to find a way to make him understand that you’ll be responsible for your own choices after that. And who knows, perhaps your dad might just surprise you.

      “Now, as I’ve said before, I’d love to see you at the university, but if you won’t, I mean, if your father won’t agree to that, what about Mr. Dugdale’s Secretarial College?”

      She held out the papers in her hand to Lorna.

      “They offer all sorts of classes, like shorthand and typewriting, and I hear that Dugdale graduates are very highly regarded. You’d be able to go up to Edinburgh on the train each day, and the college is just a short walk from Waverley station.”

      The top sheet, with a fancy crest, was a letter thanking Mrs. Murray for her recent inquiry, and a printed brochure lay underneath.

      “It’s amazing what girls these days can do with good secretarial skills,” Mrs. Murray continued. “And secretaries have all sorts of travel opportunities, you know. Glasgow, Aberdeen, or even Birmingham.”

      Lorna tried not to sigh. Mrs. Murray made it sound like Birmingham was the most exotic place on earth, but Lorna knew it wasn’t even as far away as London, where Sandy, her other brother, worked in the War Office. And it certainly wasn’t anything like Paris or New York, or Cairo or Bombay, or any of the other places Lorna and Sandy had talked about traveling to. But right now, Lorna couldn’t think of going anywhere.

      She knew she was virtually an adult now, and she would have to make some decisions soon about what to do with her life, but she couldn’t even think about leaving her father alone at Craigielaw, at least not until the war was over and the boys came back. Then she might think about secretarial college. Maybe. But who could guess when the end might come? When the war was declared in September 1939, everyone had said it would all be over by Christmas. It was now 1945; six Christmases had come and gone since then. How many more …?

      And was secretarial college enough for Lorna? What about her dreams to travel?

      “Lorna?”

      Lorna realized that Mrs. Murray was still waiting for an answer.

      “Lorna, have you got something on your mind this morning?” Mrs. Murray suddenly appeared concerned. “Is everything all right at home, dear? Are your brothers …?”

      Mrs. Murray’s lashes were glistening wet.

      “I mean,” the teacher tried again, “have you perhaps had some news from the regiment?”

      Then Lorna understood what she was really asking. Mrs. Murray’s only son, Gregor, was one of John Jo’s best friends—and Lorna’s favorite by far—and was serving with him in the same regiment of the Royal Scots. Her husband had died when Gregor was quite young, so once Gregor joined up, she’d been left on her own.

      “Oh no, Mrs. Murray, nothing like that. We had a letter from John just yesterday, and he’s doing fine. He moaned about the cold and the food and all the usual stuff but seemed to be fine otherwise. I’m afraid he didn’t mention Gregor in his letter, though.”

      Mrs. Murray’s anxious expression shifted to relief, then to disappointment.

      “But I’m sure Gregor will get in touch soon. I’ll write back to John Jo this evening and I’ll have him tell Gregor you were asking after him, if you like.”

      Mrs. Murray’s mouth smiled, though her eyes did not.

      “That would be kind, dear, thank you. Gregor never was one for writing, was he?”

      Mrs. Murray gave a not very convincing laugh and dabbed at her cheeks with a white lace hankie she had drawn out of her skirt pocket.

      “Come on then, Lorna, back to work, and please think about what I’ve said.”

      Lorna tried to hand back the college papers, but Mrs. Murray didn’t take them.

      “Keep them, dear.” Mrs. Murray patted Lorna’s hand. “You never know what might be around the corner. And if you would be kind enough to pass that message on to your brother, I’d be very grateful.”

      Mrs. Murray pulled open the door of the classroom and, squaring her shoulders, walked inside.

      “George Brown! Sit down! Can I not leave this classroom for one minute?”

      As Lorna returned to her desk, Iris tore her eyes away from William Urquhart to look at Lorna questioningly, but Lorna just shrugged back. The secretarial college papers crinkled inside her cardigan as she sat down. Her secret for now.

      As Mrs. Murray wrote again on the blackboard, Iris nudged Lorna’s elbow.

      “What news?” she whispered.

      Lorna shook her head and mouthed, “Later.” As soon as they were alone after school, she would tell Iris all the details of that morning. After all, Lorna and Iris had shared everything since they were tiny.

      It was strange, though; as the day wore on, Lorna became aware of an unfathomable desire to keep the arrival of that awful damaged stranger to herself.

      Three o’clock finally came. William Urquhart stood up from his desk with an officious clatter. William was the son of the parish minister and was also Aberlady School’s head boy. As such, he was responsible for ringing the big handbell by the front door to signal the beginning and the end of the school day.

      As he passed by, William winked at Iris.

      Iris giggled and blushed.

      Lorna groaned.

      What was Iris thinking? Of all the boys she could set her sights on, why did it have to be pompous William Urquhart?

      As the first heavy peal of the handbell sounded from the front door, Lorna was on her feet, signaling to Iris to be quick. Iris clearly had other ideas. As everyone else surged from the room, she very carefully flipped down the lid of the inkwell set into her desk, wiped her pen nib on a cloth rag, and placed her workbook into her desk, lining it up carefully on top of the pile already inside. Then she took a hairbrush from her schoolbag and began tugging at the knots in her messy brown curls, pulling the hair straight down her shoulder with the brush, only to have them bounce back up again, looking no tidier than when she started.

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