can’t wait. You can’t imagine.’
‘Is that your young man talking to those two fiddle players?’ She resisted the urge to turn around and nodded dumbly, wishing profoundly that she could deny Stephen. ‘I think he’s trying to catch your attention. Is he a musician as well?’
‘Oh, no. He designs jewellery. He’s actually very good.’
‘Jewellery, eh? Did he design that brooch you’re wearing?’
She nodded.
‘Quality piece,’ he commented approvingly. ‘Very elegant…You look very elegant yourself, Maxine, if you don’t mind me saying so. I love your dress.’
‘Oh! Thank you.’
Her delight showed in her eyes, but Brent did not have time to notice it. His attention was suddenly drawn beyond her, beyond Stephen, and Maxine thought she saw him acknowledge someone. It was a woman, possibly in her mid-twenties; statuesque, beautiful, exquisitely dressed, her dark hair sleek in a style straight out of Vogue.
‘Sorry. I have to dash, Maxine.’
‘That’s all right.’
‘See you at rehearsals.’
As Brent walked away she turned and rejoined Stephen who was labouring over his conversation with the two violinists.
‘I see you’ve already met our Brent, then,’ Bill said.
‘Brent, yes. I’d quite forgotten his name. He introduced himself after my audition.’
‘He should’ve introduced you to Gwen. Come with me, young Maxine. Let me introduce you to Gwen. You’ll be playing alongside her. Brilliant cellist, is Gwen…’
‘Maxine, can I ask you something?’ Stephen said, breaking a silence that was disproportionately long for the short drive back to Ladywood.
‘What?’
‘Will you marry me?’
He’d sussed that she’d earlier avoided admitting that Brent Shackleton had been the one to suggest going to meet some of the orchestra after the concert, that he was the one she’d really gone to see. He’d seen her acknowledge Brent too eagerly and turn her back on everybody else. He’d witnessed her sparks of interest for Brent, sparks too bright for her own good, too bright for his own good. He must prevent them flaring into a full scale inferno, and the only way he could think of doing that was by escalating her interest in himself. He had not caught sight of Brent’s beautiful companion, so this was a radical strategy which, in all probability, would not work anyway. But desperate situations required desperate measures. And Stephen was desperate. He was also desperately celibate.
‘Did I hear you right?’ Maxine replied, surprised and disappointed that he should offer marriage.
‘You did. I’m asking you to marry me.’ He flipped the indicator switch on the hub of the steering wheel and they turned right into Reservoir Road.
‘Oh, Stephen…’ She sighed, full of sympathy for him in his foolishness. ‘In God’s name, why? What on earth for?’ She turned to look at him. The meagre light falling from the street lamps as they drove past, momentarily brightened his face so serious, so intense, as if he already knew her answer.
‘Because I love you,’ he answered straightforwardly. ‘Why else?’
Maxine felt sorry for him and his self-inflicted vulnerability, and was silent for a few seconds, stalling as she decided how best to answer him.
‘Oh, Stephen…’ she responded at last, not wishing to sound exasperated, although she imagined she did. She should, after all, be flattered. But whatever words she chose in refusing him they would hurt him. She did not want to hurt him. He was her friend; one of the most reliable friends she’d ever had. ‘I…I’ve just got this new job, Stephen…and…well, I really prefer things the way they are right now.’
‘I love you, Maxine, and it’s driving me mad the way things are.’ He slowed the car and turned left, then right into Daisy Road.
‘How do you mean, driving you mad?’
‘I would have thought it obvious.’ He looked at her but she didn’t answer. He pulled up under the gas lamp outside the house and switched off the engine and the headlights. ‘It drives me mad when I’m alone with you, when I can touch you like this…’ He stroked the silky smooth skin of her forearm under her sleeve. ‘But I’m never allowed to make love to you.’
‘But we sometimes kiss goodnight, Stephen.’
‘Occasionally you allow me a quick goodnight kiss, Maxine, but that’s all. That’s not making love. It’s never passionate, never lingering. I want more. I want to lie with you in bed, naked, and feel your warm, soft skin pressing against mine.’
‘Stephen! What a thing to say!’
‘Well it’s true. I want to kiss you all over your body, I want to caress every inch of you, and…oh, you know what I mean.’
‘Stephen! If you did that with Evelyn, you’re not doing it with me. Lord above!’ She shuffled in her seat, affecting righteous indignation. ‘They say men are only interested in one thing. Is that all you want to marry me for? So you can…so you can do that to me?’
‘No. Of course not. I want to look after you. I want to provide a home for you, give you security. I want us to have children.’
‘I’d want children too, Stephen. But the world’s not fit to bring children into if you ask me. Not the way things are. You only have to look at what’s happening in the world…Unemployment, poverty, the Depression, Hitler, Mussolini and all that. Why, every day in the papers you read about some lunatic thing somebody’s up to. Everybody says there’s going to be war sooner or later. Will reckons there’s going to be a war again.’
‘He’s got a child now,’ Stephen argued logically.
‘That doesn’t mean I should have one yet. I don’t want to bring children into a world riven with war.’
‘All the more reason to let me look after you, Maxine. Anyway, there might not be a war at all. It’s only speculation.’
She shrugged. Of course, she could not be sure. Nobody could be sure.
‘Look, Maxine, I’m going to start my own business soon. I shall do well. I shall do very well. I know I shall.’
‘Well, I hope you do,’ she said sincerely. ‘I’m sure you will. But I don’t want to get married, Stephen. Really, I don’t. I don’t want to be tied down by marriage. Not yet at any rate. I’ve got my career to think about. It’s only just beginning. I want to exploit it. I want to get the most out of it. I’ve just been presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity. You don’t begrudge it me, do you, Stephen?’
‘I don’t begrudge it you at all, sweetheart,’ he replied earnestly. ‘You know I don’t.’
‘It sounds as if you do.’
‘Rubbish. You can still do all that even if we get married. Marriage wouldn’t stop you.’
‘Says you now. What if I found myself having a baby?’
‘You wouldn’t, Maxine…I wouldn’t…I mean, I wouldn’t let you get pregnant if you didn’t want to. I’d be careful. I’d be very careful. It wouldn’t interfere with your career. We’d only think of starting a family when you were ready.’
Maxine sighed. What madness had suddenly seized him to make him think of marriage? Why did he have to spoil everything by wanting to tie her down?
‘Do you want to think about it?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Stephen…’ With the utmost sympathy she took his hand and gently stroked it. ‘I don’t deserve such consideration. I’m not ready