Starlight by Anne Douglas Page A

there’s no drink,’ Jess told Rusty, ‘but they do good meals and that’s what matters.’
    â€˜I take it you know this place well?’ Rusty asked.
    â€˜No, I’ve just come with friends now and again.’
    â€˜The friends being male or female?’
    Jess leaned forward. ‘Listen, if I promise I won’t ask about your friends, will you promise no’ to ask about mine?’
    â€˜Done!’ he answered with a grin. ‘But I can tell you this, there’s nobody in my life at the moment.’
    Studying him, she wondered why. There was no doubt that that was a handsome face across the table from her, and a pleasant one. She could imagine girls being attracted easily enough, especially by those unusual eyes, that smiling mouth. Yet, it seemed there was no one special, pining away for him, back in England?
    â€˜You’ll know me again,’ he said suddenly, his voice very soft, and she gave a start of embarrassment.
    â€˜Sorry, I was just wondering . . . why there was no one in your life at present.’
    He grinned. ‘Does that not count as asking about my friends?’
    â€˜Sorry.’ She flushed a little. ‘Never mind, then.’
    â€˜No, it’s OK. I don’t mind talking about it. Let’s say, I just never found Miss Right.’ He leaned forward. ‘But now I can ask – how about you?’
    â€˜Oh, me.’ Lowering her eyes, Jess worked away on her steak. ‘Let’s say I’m no’ looking for anyone.’
    Thank goodness, Rusty needn’t know, she told herself, that if she wasn’t looking for anyone, it was because she’d already found him. And secretly hoped that he’d found her, even if so far he’d made no move to tell her.
    â€˜Really love that job of yours, don’t you?’ Rusty asked cheerfully.
    â€˜We did say, we liked our work.’
    In an effort to distract his attention from herself, Jess asked with an apologetic smile, ‘Listen, don’t think I’m nosey – though of course I am – but I wish you’d tell me how your folks came to live in England. I mean, if your father’s a Scot?’
    â€˜I don’t think you’re nosey, Jess. It’s good you’re interested in me, because I’m interested in you.’
    â€˜But we’re talking about you.’
    â€˜OK. Thing is, it’s not so strange, you know, for Scots to end up in England – they’re usually looking for jobs. Anyway, before the war, my dad trained as an electrician, but there wasn’t much call for his type of work then and he wasn’t doing well. Somebody said he might have more luck down south, so, he upped sticks and went down to Woking.’ Rusty grinned. ‘Found work, met my mother, fell in love, got married.’ He raised his hands. ‘That’s how a Scot came to live in England.’
    â€˜Sounds romantic. When did you come along, then?’
    â€˜1914, just before my dad had to join up. He was lucky, he came back.’ Rusty paused. ‘Only died two years ago, in fact, just after my mum.’
    â€˜Ah, Rusty, I’m sorry!’ Jess reached over to touch his hand. ‘I didn’t know you were on your own.’
    â€˜It was a bit of a blow, I’ll admit, the two of ’em going. I got the house, of course, made a bit of money from the sale, put it into savings. But . . . what’s a house, Jess? What’s money? When you’ve lost your folks?’
    She pressed his hand more firmly, her eyes full of sympathy.
    â€˜I know, Rusty, I know what it must have been like for you.’
    â€˜Didn’t help that I lost my job when the cinema where I worked shut up shop. I think I told you that, didn’t I? And I couldn’t find anything else locally? Finally, saw an advert for this job in Edinburgh where my dad used to live, and thought I’d go for it – make a fresh start.’