Free Starlight by Anne Douglas

open the doors. Because she wouldn’t want the job, anyway.
    When Rusty came loping in to see her in his break that evening, Jess wasted no time in buttonholing him.
    â€˜Rusty, did you tell Ben we were going out sometimes?’
    â€˜Ben? No!’ Rusty’s grey eyes sparkled with irritation. ‘Why should I? What the hell has it got to do with him?’
    â€˜Nothing, only he seems to know.’
    â€˜No secret, is it?’
    Jess, turning to attend to a customer, made no reply. ‘So, it is a secret?’ Rusty pressed, when she was free. ‘Look, why are you so upset? Has Ben said something?’
    â€˜He made some silly remark.’
    â€˜He’s not usually silly.’
    â€˜He was teasing – the way people do.’
    â€˜And you minded?’
    â€˜It’s just that I don’t want him – I mean anyone – to get the wrong idea.’
    For a long moment, Rusty stood looking down at her, his eyes so strangely cold, his mouth a straight hard line.
    â€˜Sorry going for a few walks with me has got you so worried,’ he said curtly. ‘Now, I have to get back.’
    â€˜Rusty!’ she called after him, but he was already moving swiftly across the foyer, as an irate man began tapping coins on the glass wall of the box office.
    â€˜Two front stalls, miss, WHEN you’re ready!’
    â€˜I’m sorry, sir.’
    â€˜Shouldn’t be rowing with your fella when you’re at work, you know.’
    â€˜Two front stalls,’ Jess said icily as she handed him his tickets. ‘And your change. Thank you, sir.’
    â€˜Thank YOU!’ he cried, glancing with satisfaction at the woman by his side.
    Good job Mr H. hadn’t seen that little exchange, Jess thought grimly. Couldn’t see him wanting to promote her after something like that. Hadn’t been her day, had it? But, for sure, it wasn’t the customers’ fault. Big smile, Jess, she told herself, and was rewarded by surprised smiles from the next couple buying tickets.
    At home, her bad day over, Jess remembered to mention the cinema cafe job to Marguerite, being quick to add that she’d probably not be interested, seeing as there’d be evening work.
    â€˜Who says I won’t be interested?’ Marguerite asked. ‘I was just saying to Ma the other day that I could do with a change.’
    â€˜That’s right,’ Addie put in. ‘And you can get stale, doing the same job, day in, day out.’
    â€˜Maybe I’ll apply, then.’ Marguerite turned thoughtful blue eyes on Jess. ‘When’s the interview?’
    â€˜Probably early December. I could ask Mrs Baxter, the lady who runs the cafe. She’s a widow – very nice, very capable.’
    â€˜So, could you find out how much they’re paying and what the hours are, as well? I’m thinking I might well try for it.’
    â€˜I’m no’ sure it’ll be your cup of tea,’ Jess said uneasily. She was beginning to wonder if she really wanted her sister working so close. ‘I think the wages are the same as you’re getting now, but then there’ll be the longer hours. Everybody’s very free and easy, as well.’
    â€˜You’re saying I’m no’ free and easy? I can fit in anywhere, if I want to.’ Marguerite gave a little laugh. ‘And this might be my chance to meet some rich Edinburgh chap, eh? Never see one in The Galleon Tea Rooms, I can tell you!’
    â€˜Well, if you do go for interview, don’t wear your pale grey two-piece, will you? The one you let me borrow?’
    â€˜Have you forgotten? It’s winter. I’ll be wearing my navy-blue woollen suit with a coat on top.’ Marguerite smiled. ‘Who’d remember that grey two-piece, anyway?’

Thirteen
    Christmas loomed and after Jess had organized the decorations for the cinema – tinsel, holly and paper streamers – she asked Sally if