Free Under the Bridges by Anne Forsyth

I’m Lana.’
    â€˜And I’m Irene.’
    They stood gazing at Lorna, and then burst into fits of giggles.
    â€˜Oh, be quiet, the pair of you,’ Pete said, looking up from the paper.
    Lorna found she was hungry, and she did justice to the tasty fish pie, and didn’t need a second invitation to heap her plate with vegetables.
    She tried not to notice that the two girls were staring at her. And from time to time they would dissolve into giggles.
    â€˜So what’s your job, Lorna?’ Pete’s father said.
    â€˜I’m a secretary, in an insurance office,’ said Lorna.
    â€˜Oh!’ Lana was impressed by this. ‘You’ve a good job, then.’
    â€˜I suppose I have, ’ Lorna, who was actually a typist, said.
    The two girls were silent for a bit, and then they started giggling again.
    Pete helped his mother to clear the plates.
    â€˜Have a cigarette, Lorna?’ Pete’s father held out the packet.
    â€˜I don’t smoke, thanks.’
    â€˜Pete?’
    â€˜I’ve stopped, Dad.’
    â€˜Have you now?’ Tommy was surprised.
    Pete looked uncomfortable.
    â€˜I was never going to save enough coupons—five thousand for a record player. Besides,’ he added, ‘I’m saving up.’
    â€˜Ooh . . .’ Lana said, looking from under her eyelashes at Pete. ‘What for, I’d like to know.’
    Pete coloured.
    â€˜None of your business.’
    â€˜Leave the lad alone,’ their mother said, coming back into the room.
    Lana laughed and turned to Lorna.
    â€˜Are you saving up, too, Lorna?’ Both girls dissolved into laughter as they left the room, looking back and winking at their brother.
    â€˜Silly girls,’ Agnes tutted.
    â€˜Can I help you to wash up?’ Lorna asked politely.
    â€˜You really shouldn’t, you’re a guest here . . .’
    â€˜Not at all,’ Lorna replied with a smile.
    When they’d finished and went through to the living-room, Pete and his father were discussing the Pars’ chances in the next home game.
    Agnes shook her head.
    â€˜It’s all the latest fashion with Lana and Irene. Stiletto heels! I tell them they’re bad for your feet, but they won’t listen. Now you sit down and tell us all about yourself. Your dad’s on the ferries, Pete said?’
    * * *
    It was easy after that. Pete’s mother was comfortable to be with. And Lorna could sense that Pete was more relaxed, laughing and teasing his mother.
    She dotes on him, thought Lorna, noticing how Agnes’s eyes glowed as she looked at her son.
    She stretched and thought of the long uncomfortable journey home, the damp chill inside the bus, waiting at Dunfermline bus station, probably stamping her feet to keep warm. She was glad of the loden duffle coat her mother had bought her in the sales It was warm and waterproof.
    Pete’s mother stood up and drew back the net curtains.
    â€˜It’s been snowing again,’ she said.
    Without a word, Tommy rose and went to the door.
    â€˜It’s deep,’ he said when he came back. ‘The buses won’t be getting through.’
    â€˜Never mind,’ Agnes said. ‘You can stay the night here, Lorna. You can have Lana’s bed and she’ll sleep on the sofa bed.’
    â€˜But . . .’ Lorna began.
    â€˜It’s no bother, dear,’ Pete’s mother reassured her. ‘I’ll away and see to clean sheets for you. And you can phone your mother, tell her you’re safe here. Then she’ll not worry. We’ve got the phone now—it’s in the hall.’
    Lorna wondered what on earth she could say. Trembling a little, she lifted the receiver and asked to be put through to her home number.
    â€˜Lorna! We’ve been worried sick about you,’ Joe said, sounding irritable. ‘Where are you? I could come out and fetch you . . . Here’s your mother. She’s been worried,