Woman July 7 1956 Page 31

"I wonder if you remember me?" said the stranger, 
towering above Ann. Blood rushed to her cheeks
 continued on page 33

Waiting For You by SHEILA FRAZER

Illustrated by EARNSHAW

Ann expected love to come with a fizz and a sparkle. She didn't know it sometimes creeps up on you

ANN sat at her desk watching her friend Barbara at work in front of the office mirror. "Eye shadow?" murmured Barbara, waving a little glass jar.
Ann shook her head. "Not if you're meeting him now. That blue's much too vivid for daylight."
"Perhaps you're right." Barbara put the eye shadow away a little reluctantly, stepped back from the mirror and regarded herself critically. Then she turned to Ann.
"There, how do I look?"
"Lovely," Ann said truthfully. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, nowhere special. A walk in the park first, I suppose, and then a snack at the Parador, or some other coffee bar. Then another wander round.  "
She broke off.
"Does it all sound deadly dull to you? You see we have only one really grand outing a month now we're saving up to get married."
"It doesn't sound dull at all," Ann  said wistfully. "I wish my fate would come along."
Barbara made an impatient little noise, very nearly a snort.
"There you go," she said. "My fate! You ought to have grown out of such nonsensical ideas at your age,"
"But don't you look on Terry as your fate?" Ann asked curiously. "The only one in all the world just meant for you?
"In a way I do now, I suppose. At any rate I can’t imagine sharing my life with anyone else. But I didn't feel he was my fate the instant we met. My first thought as far as he was concerned was: What a ghastly tie that an is wearing.
"But because I knew he was, well, interested in me, I gave him a chance, and I suppose I just grew to love him. Believe me, darling, real love, the kind that leads to a happy marriage, often starts like that."
"And you've never felt there was anything missing?"
"There isn't anything missing," Barbara said firmly. "And if you've any sense, Ann, you'll stop dreaming away the best years of your life. How many times have Terry and I taken you out to meet various friends of his! And never once did you give the poor man a chance. Just because you didn't fall in love at first sight you were like a glacier."
Dismay widened Ann's hazel eyes. "I didn't mean to give that impression," she said bleakly. "It's just that-well, I suppose I'm over anxious about falling in love: It seems awful to be twenty-three and never to have been in love.
"If only I could meet somebody and feel, click, this is the one!Falling in love ought to be like, like stirring a spoonful of fruit salts into a glass of cold water, everything fizzing and sparkling like mad."
"Mad," said Barbara, smiling in spite of herself, "is the operative word. Madly romantic, that's you my love. I must go now, but think it all over Ann, and if you feel like trying one more blind date I'll see what Terry can do."
After she had gone Ann went to the mirror and made a pretence of tidyng herself, and loneliness began to wash over her in waves. It was not loneliness in its most literal sense, of course, for she lived in the bosom of her warm-hearted family.
No, it was that deep inner sense of her own aloneness that almost every girl experiences before she meets theman with whom she wants to share her life. 
It wasn't that Ann really wanted to get married so desperately, for after all she was only twenty-three.
It was just that she wanted someone who would put her first. One who would look across a crowded room and see only her. One who would share her troubles, laugh at her jokes and dry her tears.
She closed her eyes and there he was, as vivid and clear as a close-up in Technicolor. Blue-grey eyes that I seemed always to look beyond her, a tanned, hard sort of face, lips not quite smiling and tasting of salt.
But perhaps Barbara was right, and she was wasting the best years of her life waiting for him. Perhaps she never would meet such a man, or, if she did, perhaps he would not be for her.
Sighing, she gathered her belongings together. The next time Barbara suggested making up a four, the very next time.
  THE blind date was arranged for the following Friday, and it was to coincide with Terry's and Barbara's grand.monthly outing.
"You are a most unselfish creature, Ba," Ann said, as the two girls dressed in the cloakroom. "I'll try not to let you down."
"Well, don't feel you have to fall in love with the man out of gratitude to me," Barbara said firmly; "Enjoy yourself this evening and if you find you like him, just like him, then give him a chance, Annie love."
"I will," Ann promised, reverently taking the new, exotic, tangerine taffeta party dress out of its cloth bag. "What is he like?"
"I haven't met him. He's just been transferred to Terry's branch from somewhere up north and Terry seems to get on with him awfully well. His name is Arthur Haig."
"Arthur. Arthur Haig," Ann murmured, trying the name over on her tongue. "Arthur and Ann Haig," she said experimentally.
"Now Ann!" Barbara admonished. "You rush on so. If you do like this chap, for heaven's sake don't expect him to propose to you by the end of the week. Men are wary characters where marriage is concerned, you know."
The two men were waiting for them in the foyer of the hotel where they were to dine and dance. Introductions were made, and the four of them went along to the bar.
The girls sank into a deep settee in the comer of the room, and Ann tried hard not to give her partner for the evening a long, considering look.
Nevertheless she couldn't resist the temptation to take a quick peep over the rim of her sherry glass.
It was disconcerting to find that Arthur Haig was doing exactly the same thing.
He as an average sort of person, not tall but not undersized either. He had a well-shaped head, dark brown hair, light brown eyes and a pleasant mouth. He gave her a small cheerful wink as their eyes met, and she smiled back nicely.
Nothing clicked. Nothing fizzed or sparkled. They went into the restaurant. There were red and white roses on the table, their waiter was attentive, and the music spoke coaxingly to dancing feet.
The party spirit caught Ann, and she got up got dance with alacrity when Arthur stood up. The band was playing" These Foolish Things."
"This song," said Arthur, "is you in music. Don't ask me how I know. It just seems to go, with you."
Ann laughed up at him. But to her astonishment she saw that, though smiling, he was perfectly sincere.
"I like you, Ann Reid," he said softly, giving her a little shake.
"I like you too, Arthur Haig," she whispered back, but soberly.
It had never occurred to her before that when a man and a girl met for the first time the click, the fizz, and the sparkle might be there for one of them and not for the other.
But if she had not fallen in love at first sight Ann found, as the evening went by, that she was enjoying herself more than she had ever done on any kind of date before.
Arthur was easy, amusing company, and she, by relaxing, by looking for all the likeable, lovable things about him, brought out the best in him and in herself.
They compared their likes, their dislikes, their favourite books, songs and holidays, their worst gaffes.
About half-way through the evening, Ann retired with Barbara to the cloakroom.
"Well?" Barbara asked, eyebrows raised:
"He's terribly nice," Ann said quietly. "I like him already."
"Good girl," Barbara approved.
They went back to the restaurant together. The lights had been dimmed for the cabaret, but Ann saw that Arthur, sitting at their  table, was watching the entrance anxiously for her.
Her heart warmed. There he was, the one who would look across a crowded room and see only her.
They went out together twice during the following week, the first time to the cinema, where, they held hands in a quiet, companionable fashion, the second time to a meal in a Chinese restaurant.
Ann had never been to a Chinese restaurant before. She was quite determined to eat with chopsticks, and they both laughed a good deal at her clumsy efforts. Afterwards they sat for a long time drinking coffee. Then he took her to the station.
"Oh, it has been fun!" Ann cried, leaning out of the train compartment to say good night to him. She was touched because he had shaken hands with her when he obviously wanted very much to kiss her.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Arthur said gently. "We must spend some more evenings like it."
  A LITTLE glow of contentment enveloped Ann as a week passed, and then another. Life seemed to have purpose and point now.
When the telephone rang at home it was mostly Arthur. When five o'clock came at the office she had a reason for hurrying to clear up her work. 
She planned to take her second week of summer holiday in September because Arthur would have a few days off then.
She had, in fact, joined that great army of girls" going steady."
Arthur was always a pleasant companion. He planned their entertainment carefully, was interested in every facet of Ann's life, took any small setback she might have very much to heart.
On the other hand he was no doormat, and wasn't afraid to argue.
Once they had had quite a sharp disagreement on, of all things, a political subject.
Ann, not terribly sure of her ground anyway, had eventually managed to get herself tied in knots with a dreadful tongue-twisting sentence, after which they had both dissolved into laughter.
Arthur had given her a quick, hug. "I love you, Ann," he said.
He spoke lightly, but Ann went very still and quiet inside.
The following week they made a date to dine and dance alone together.
She wore the tangerine taffeta dress again, but Arthur had booked a table at the new Starlight Restaurant.
  THE Starlight Restaurant was softly lighted, and on hot summer evenings the roof slid back so that the dance floor was open to the sky. The music and the atmosphere were sweet and sentimental.
The mood of the place upset Ann a little because she didn't feel like that about Arthur. Not yet.
She liked to dance with him, she enjoyed his company in every way, most of al she loved the cherished feeling he gave her. The other feeling would come gradually, she felt sure.
Looking up at his nice face, already dearly familiar though she had known him only four weeks, she told herself fiercely that she did love him really. She was determined to love him.
She grew. quiet and stumbled a little when she danced.
"You’re tired, darling," Arthur said at last, gently. "Let's sit the rest of this one out".
It was as they sat sipping their coffee that someone rose from a table no the other side of the room and came across to them. Ann blinked up at him.
"I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion he said formally to Arthur. And then, to Ann: "I wonder if you remember me?"
At that moment the room was flooded with light. The blue-grey eyes that seemed, even as they looked at her, to be looking beyond her as well. The tanned skin. The lips that were ton quite smiling.
"Oh, yes!" she cried involuntarily. And then blushed deeply.
"I'm, sorry she stammered. "I don’t know where it was."
He was smiling openly now. "Do you remember Selford?"
" Oh, yes," Ann said. "We had a holiday there one year."
"That's right," he said with satisfaction "I never forget a face. Your family took the cottage next to ours one summer, though we left two or three days after you arrived. You were about twenty-no, heavens, you couldn't have been ! "
"That was my sister," Ann said excitedly. "I'm supposed to be very like her. I was only eleven then. Oh, yes, I do remember you now! Use used to sail dinghy."
'''That's right. I saw you really close only once. I was rowing towards the shore. You were swimming, you came and hung on to the side of the boat. I put a hand on top of your head and pushed you under."
"Yes," Ann' said quietly. "I remember it all now."
So her dream lover had ton been a dream, after all, but a memory.
 She smiled up at him dizzily. "Your name is Gordon ."
"Gordon Ferrier. Oh, see here! We must get together. I’m only in London for a week unfortunately."
All this time Arthur had been quiet, and now belatedly, Ann made introductions.
"Will you join us?" Arthur asked.
But no, Gordon, it seemed, was with a party and must get back to them. He made a note of Ann's telephone number, and her office number and excused himself.
Alone with Arthur again, Ann was aware of a feeling of anticlimax, and guilt. It seemed the height of bad manners to fall in love with one young man whilst being entertained by another.
For it had happened, click, the fizz, the sparkle.
  ANN excused herself to Arthur and went out to the cloakroom where her reflection confirmed her heart's certainty. Her eyes were like stars. Her skin glowed. She felt as if she was running a temperature.
Now all she wanted to do was to get home, and Arthur, fortunately, seemed ready to go, too.
Why, why did he have to choose that particular evening to kiss her for the first time?
Ann, wrapped in her own secret thoughts throughout the taxi ride to the station, was taken completely by surprise by the hardness of his arms, the sweet, warm, seeking kiss.
She submitted to it, she wouldn't, for anything, have struggled against Arthur, but he must have been aware of her lack of response because he released her instantly;
"Sorry," he said briefly. "You looked so pretty I couldn't help myself. Was it the wrong time, or the wrong place? Or just the wrong man?"
"Oh, Arthur!" Ann said, distressed. " I don't know. A little of all three, I suppose."
"I see."
He was silent until she was safely on the train and leaning out of her compartment window. Then he said: "May I stick around anyway? I'm persistent and an optimist." 
"I'd hate not to see you again." Ann admitted. 
"I'll give you a ring next week then:" he promised. "Good night."
He lifted his hand in all abrupt little salute and was gone.
For the rest of the week Ann lived in a soap bubble world of elation.
By Tuesday of the next week she had sobered up a little. She had expected that Gordon would telephone her the very next day after their meeting. But still he hadn't phoned.
On Wednesday the scales balanced, even began to slide ever so slightly in the opposite direction. Ann became silent and tense, everything about her waiting for the telephone to ring.
On Thursday she faced the fact that not only was Gordon not going to telephone, but that she had lost Arthur too. Previously he had phoned her at least every other day.
She didn't even hear the telephone when it rang, for she was in the bath with both taps running. Her brother hammered on the door, calling: "Your boy friend on the phone for you."
She trembled as she dried herself.
She could not help the crashing, sickening disappointment when she heard Arthur's voice.
"You sound breathless," he said.
"I was in the bath," she replied.
Oh, try as she might she couldn't keep her bleakness a secret. I'm sorry," he said stiffly. "Shall I phone you some other time, perhaps? " 
She swallowed.
"No, it's quite all right," she assured him.
"I was going to ask you if you'd care to, to see a film or something tomorrow night."
She drew a shaky breath. I'd like to, Arthur."
" Good." He was suddenly cheerful. "I don't expect to be through before about six thirty, so shall I meet you at the Kasbah coffee bar,  seven o'clock, say? "
"I'll be there," Ann promised.
  GORDON telephoned Ann at her office the following morning.
 Are you free this afternoon?" he asked.
"This afternoon?" Ann stammered. "Well, I work you know."
"What time do you finish?"
"Five thirty, usually."
"And my train leaves at six fifty. Doesn't give us long, does it? Could you meet me at Victoria, do you think? We Could have a drink together."
It was agreed, it was arranged. Ann put down the receiver quietly, wishing that she hadn't been quite so humbly anxious to fit in with his plans. Of course he had taken it for granted that she would do so.
From across twelve years, suddenly, she heard her father's voice: "That's a very cocksure young whipper-snapper next door."
She was on time at their appointed meeting place and so was he, looking impatiently round him. With a pang she realized that already he was regretting the arrangement they had made, wondering why he had involved himself, feeling hampered and irritable.
When they were sitting opposite each other at a small table with their drinks before them he studied her frankly.
She noticed that he never smiled really properly, and the blue-grey eyes still seemed to be looking beyond her, but only because they lacked the warmth of genuine interest.
Afterwards she couldn't even remember what they had talked about, only that it had been one of the longest half hours of her life. 
Nothing fizzed and nothing sparkled. And when it was time for him to catch his train they parted with illconcealed relief on both sides.
It took exasperating minutes to find a taxi and it was well after seven when she reached the Kasbah.
She was dismayed to find that even so she was still there first. The Kasbah was packed, crowded out, but there was no sign of Arthur.
Never before had he been late when he was meeting her.
She placed her handbag on one of the chairs, Sat nervously on the edge of the other, raking the room with restless eyes. If Arthur didn't come.
He had known there was something wrong. She had made a poor job of concealing her feelings, and he hadn't a doormat personality. On the other hand he was kind, he would never leave her waiting in a public place, waiting and waiting.
And then she saw him in the doorway, and she couldn't stop herself half-rising from her chair, smiling at him radiantly.
Arthur lifted his hand in greeting and began to make his way towards her, and sunddenly it was as if the people fell back to make a, pathway for him, as if there were nobody else in the coffee bar but their two selves.
She was looking across a crowded room but seeing only him. "I was waiting for you," she said unnecessarily.
  PUTTING out a hand to him unconsciously, Arthur took it and gave it a little squeeze.
"Come on," he said. .. Let's get out of here.".......... the end