The Linden Walk. Elizabeth Elgin
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about what?’ Drew stood in the doorway. ‘Secrets between you already?’
‘Idiot! Of course not. With her mother in Kenya, I offered to stand in if Lyndis wanted to talk about – well, you know – woman’s things. Anyway, who was that on the phone?’
‘Daisy. She insists we go over so she can admire the ring – she wants to have a wish on it, she says.’
‘It took you a long time to say that,’ Julia smiled, relieved the awkward moment had passed.
‘Not really. I had a word with Keth, too. About cars.’
‘So now you can have a word with your intended – about rings. And make sure you’ve got your key with you when you go out. I’m going to meet Polly at the Bothy at eight – okay? And like I said, Lyndis – feel free …’
And with that she was off, banging the door behind her, taking the stairs two at a time, as she always did.
‘Have you chosen?’ Drew asked softly.
‘N-no. I haven’t even looked, properly. I feel embarrassed, sort of; don’t want to pick out the biggest and best.’
‘Why ever not? It wouldn’t worry Mother. She’s never been one for jewellery; keeps giving pieces of this lot away. She gave Lady pearl eardrops for her twenty-first and Daisy got a sapphire and diamond brooch as a christening present. There are a couple I like, though.’ He laid two rings on his hand; one a sapphire, one an emerald. ‘Mother would want you to have something decent. Feel free, like she said.’
‘I like them, too. They’re both beautiful,’ Lyndis whispered, wishing her cheeks didn’t burn so. ‘I think you should choose, for all that.’
‘Then the emerald it is. It matches your eyes, Lyn. Try it on.’
‘Tell you what – the ring that fits best must be the one.’
‘Then it looks like it’s the emerald,’ Drew smiled when the square-cut stone set with diamonds slipped on easily, whilst the sapphire refused to budge past her knuckle.
‘The emerald it is. And anyway, Daisy has a sapphire ring. Wouldn’t want her to think I was copying hers. Will you put it on for me, Drew, and kiss me? And then we’ll put everything back in the box and give it to your mother, before she goes out. She’ll want to know which one I’ve chosen. And will you tell me why I feel so light-headed and floaty? I can’t seem to take all this in.’
‘We-e-ll, I ought to say it’s because of the wonder of the moment, but it’s probably because you arrived late and didn’t want any supper. Now give me your hand, Lyn Carmichael, and bless you for saying you’ll have me. I promise we’ll be happy, cariad.’
‘Drew! Who told you the Welsh for darling?’
‘Who do you think? The adorable Blod, of course, that time we stayed with her. Have you heard from her, yet?’
‘About us? No. She won’t have got my letter, though I think she’ll cable me back when she’s had time to get over the shock.’
‘You’re happy about us, Lyn?’ He tilted her chin, kissing her gently.
‘I’m happy. I’m very happy, Drew.’
‘Fine. So let’s return the sparklers, then go and see Daiz …’
It was as they walked hand in hand to Foxgloves that Drew said, ‘By the way, if we decide on a summer wedding, how about June the eighteenth? Entirely up to you, mind – will it be okay for you date-wise? The curse, I’m talking about.’
‘I – I – yes. Fine,’ she gasped, cheeks blazing, taken aback by the nonchalant reference to her periods. Drew had always been so quiet; never had a sister of his own. Not a live-in sister to talk to about such things. He’d been in the Navy, of course. There would have been talk on the mess decks, she supposed.
Yet the explanation was simple. Drew and Kitty had been lovers, would have discussed such things. They’d have had to, though Lyn was as sure as she could be that Kitty wouldn’t have cared if she got pregnant, wouldn’t have –
‘Penny for them?’ Drew smiled.
‘I – oh, nothing of importance, really. Dates, I suppose. I ring them round as soon as I start a new diary, so I’m sure the eighteenth is fine.’
The ease with which she spoke amazed her; the laugh, too.
‘That’s settled, then. Daiz will be glad about that. She’s been going on about it all week. And might I ask what you find so funny?’
‘You and me, Drew, that’s what. Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh about something so important, but think – a week ago we were friends, yet now we’re all at once – well, personal. So can we,’ she said breathlessly, ‘whilst we’re on the subject of things personal, talk about children, too?’
‘Fine by me. You want some, don’t you? I know I do.’
‘I want children, Drew, and I’d like to have them before I’m thirty, or at least have made a start. So if you don’t mind, I’d like us not to worry about – well …’
‘Being careful? A honeymoon baby?’
‘Exactly,’ she whispered, taken aback once more by his directness, knowing that almost certainly he had talked this way before.
‘Okay. Point taken. Where are we going for our honeymoon, by the way? Abroad is out, thanks to the government’s stupid restrictions. Paris would have been great. And there’s Daisy, waiting for us.’ Quickly, he kissed her cheek. ‘Impatient as ever.’
And though it was almost dark, Lyn could hear the smile in his voice and was grateful for it. And love for him washed over her and made her glad. Happy, she supposed, or as near as made no matter. If Kitty wasn’t so often there to remind her, that was.
‘Hi there, Purvis,’ she called and ran into Daisy’s welcoming arms.
‘Let’s be seeing it then,’ Daisy laughed, holding up her cheek for Drew’s kiss, shoo-ing them into the sitting room. ‘Oh, my goodness, Carmichael. What a beauty!’ She held out her hand for the ring, slipping it on, closing her eyes as she turned it three times on her finger. ‘And don’t ask me what I wished for ’cause I’m not telling.’
‘Just a minute, ladies, before you start oh-ing and ah-ing over rings and weddings and things,’ Keth laughed. ‘Would you mind telling me why the pair of you still use each other’s surname? You aren’t in the Forces, now.’
‘True, Keth. But we both did a fair stint in the war, and using surnames was the order of the day. We’re bound to revert, sometimes, to the old ways. Daisy will always be Wren Purvis-from-the-bottom-bunk to me.’
‘And I was so glad to be Purvis – remember, Lyn? Dwerryhouse was such a drag of a name. The times people said, “Dwerry-what? How do you spell it?” So now you know, darling, and why don’t you two pop upstairs to the cubbyhole whilst we talk about rings and weddings and things. You said you had something you wanted to talk to Drew about. And don’t wake the baby,’ she warned as they disappeared, fugitives from wedding talk. ‘And I shouldn’t tell you what I wished for, but do you want two or three …?’
‘Three, please,’ Lyn laughed, ‘though four would be marvellous. That house is big enough for ten children. And oh, Daisy, you’re such a love. Did I ever tell you so?’
‘Often. But only because it’s completely true.’
So they laughed again and it was as if they were Leading-Wren Carmichael and Purvis-from-the-bottom-bunk again and lived in a billet called Hellas House in bomb-shattered Liverpool, and worked underground in a hot, airless Communications Office. Because they knew they would never completely forget their war, nor would they want to. Good times and bad.
‘Well now. This is a lovely