Read Online Primrose Square by Anne Douglas - Free Book Online

might – you know – try for a different job.’
    â€˜Lassies doing office work these days?’
    â€˜Seemingly.’
    Her tram was looming. She put her hand on his arm. ‘Dad, this is me. I’ll have to go.’
    â€˜I’ll see you on, then.’
    She kissed his cheek – when had she last done that? – and murmured, self-consciously, ‘Dad – thanks.’
    He looked away. ‘Better join the queue, lassie.’
    When the tram halted, she followed people on to the platform, looking back at her father, watching. Neither smiled, but both waved.
    â€˜Fares, please,’ said the conductor, and she was borne away, her father still watching until the tram was out of sight.
    Oblivious to the noise and rattles around her, Elinor was gradually coming to terms with what had happened. Her dad, in one of his good moods, had made the huge effort to seek her out and – yes, incredible though it seemed – had apologized to her. He’d actually got the words out. Admitted he’d made a mistake. Asked her to come back home when she could. Was it possible?
    She supposed that, with him, anything was possible. As her mother had said, he could be all blow and thunder one minute, all sunshine the next, and this apologizing to her must be in one of his sunny times, then. On the other hand, she’d never known him cave in to anyone in the family before, and it might just be that when she’d left, she’d given him a shock. She’d stood up to him like no one else had done, and being unused to it, he’d not known how to deal with it. When he’d finally realized that she was not coming back, he’d bitten the bullet and apologized. Because it was true, then, that he’d missed her?
    A warm glow consumed her as it came to her that her dad must care for her. Cared for all his family, though he had no idea how to make them happy. Would always want his own way, always be ready to fly off the handle, but deep down, they meant something to him. And understanding that meant something to Elinor.
    For a little while, she had quite forgotten where she was going and what for, but when she only recognized her stop at the last minute and scrambled out just in time, it dawned on her with terrible realization that she was going to be late for her first class. She must have missed the tram she’d intended to get, and now she could see from a church clock across the road that it was after seven. The class would already have begun.
    Late! When she had wanted to appear so calm and well organized; had wanted to create a good impression on Mr Muirhead and the other students. Late already, when she didn’t even know where Carlyle High School was!
    Of course, she found it. Found the notice board inside the entrance giving the room number for her class. Arrived at the door, flushed and breathless and, at her light knock, met Mr Muirhead himself. Smiling, thank God.
    â€˜Oh, I’m so sorry I’m late!’ she burst out, but he only drew her into the classroom.
    â€˜That’s quite all right. We haven’t started yet – I’ve just been taking a roll call. Come in and find a seat.’

Thirteen
    Everyone was looking at her. Or so it felt to Elinor, though with her eyes cast down as she found a seat next to another young woman, she couldn’t of course be sure. Aware that Mr Muirhead was waiting for her, she tried to be as quick as possible in slipping off her hat and jacket, which he immediately came forward to hang up, and then, after taking out her exercise book and pencil, managed to snatch a look around her.
    The classroom was typical of all the rooms she remembered from her schooldays: long dusty windows, bare boarded floor, maps and posters on the distempered walls, and rows of desks to seat two pupils facing the teacher’s table. Squashed into the desks, regardless of height or weight, were twenty or so men and a few women, all young,