‘Saturday night?’ Callum asked. Mary nodded her head and it felt very much lighter and a bit odd to her. ‘Shall I ask Eugene if I can take you?’

Mary thought about that for longer than she would have done only hours previously. What would Eugene say? Well, there was a great deal she would have to tell Eugene herself over the coming weeks, she was sure of that. Jutting her chin and straightening her back she said, ‘No, I will do that.’

Callum raised his eyebrows; he wanted to do things properly. ‘Are you sure?’

She wasted no time in replying. ‘I am, I’ll speak to him first, before Mam.’

In that moment Mary made a decision: she wouldn’t ask Deirdre, she would tell her she was going to the picture house with Callum and that he was calling for her – and why not, hadn’t she said herself that at least he worked down on the docks? She would also tell her that she was going to work for Cindy. She wouldn’t mention the flat, or that Cindy was thinking of marrying and having a baby of her own, and she wouldn’t let Malcolm down, she would give him good notice. Cindy’s words came into her mind, ‘… the only way to shape your own destiny is to control it.’

Mary smiled at Callum; there was something about his self-effacing manner that appealed to her.

‘I’ll knock on for you then?’

Jimmy had never taken her anywhere. Had never knocked on for her or spoken to her with thoughtful care and consideration in the way Callum was now.

‘I’d like that, Callum, thank you.’

Not knowing what to say next, they stood and smiled at each other and Callum felt his heart race. He wanted to talk more, ask her more, but he hesitated. Steady does it, was the thought that entered his mind and he knew, instinctively, it was the right thing to do. Mary was not like the other girls on the four streets, she wasn’t cheeky and confident. He remembered her playing in the street, always the one looking after her younger brothers, not running off with the other girls to the wasteland. He had felt sorry for her then, had hated Jimmy for the way he treated her, but not now. Admiration, respect for her dignity and something he was still unsure of, was what he felt now.

‘Saturday, then.’

Mary nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak because she felt as though if she and Callum began a conversation, it would not end, but go on forever, and she knew that this was the beginning, that it would be Callum for always and, not having the words, she hoped that her smile, the pleasure in her face, told him all he needed to know.

*