The Shipbuilder’s Daughter

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The Shipbuilder’s Daughter Page 12

by Emma Fraser


  Three months after James’s birth there was a knock on the door. Peggy opened the door and to Margaret’s astonishment – and delight – her parents were standing there.

  ‘Mother – Father! Please come in.’

  Her father looked around her small, but cosy, home as if it were a hovel, but her mother came over to Margaret, took her hand and squeezed it hard.

  Elizabeth hid behind Margaret’s legs and peeped up shyly at the grandly dressed woman who was her grandmother.

  ‘Mother, Father. This is my daughter Elizabeth Elspeth. Elizabeth, say how do you do to your grandparents.’

  ‘You named her after me?’ Margaret’s mother whispered, her eyes glistening.

  Elizabeth detached herself from Margaret and held out her hand to her grandmother. ‘How do you do?’

  Margaret bent down to pick up James from the pram where he’d been napping until the sound of strange voices had woken him. ‘And this is James Sebastian Fletcher.’ She placed her son in his grandfather’s arms.

  Her father held the tiny bundle as if he were holding precious china. ‘He’s a fine-looking lad.’

  ‘He has his father’s determination,’ she replied quietly, ‘as well as his eyes.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Alasdair? My husband does have a name, you know, Father. He’s at work but I expect him back at any moment.’

  ‘I have a proposition for you both. It’s time to let bygones be bygones.’

  Her heart gave a small leap.

  ‘I’d like nothing better than for all of us to be friends.’

  ‘I doubt we will all ever be friends,’ her father replied, his gaze once more resting on James in a way she couldn’t remember him ever looking at her. ‘But we shall do our best. I – we – want you to come and live at home.’

  ‘All of us?’

  ‘All of you.’

  ‘Alasdair too?’ She had to be sure.

  ‘Him, too. I want to spend less time down at the yards and I think it’s time my son-in-law became involved.’

  ‘You want Alasdair to come back to work for you?’ She could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Not for me, Margaret. With me. He needs to learn how to run the business and that will take a few years.’

  A warm glow took hold in her chest and blossomed. This was the day she’d been waiting for. With her parents back in her life everything would be perfect.

  A few moments later Alasdair burst through the door, his look of delighted anticipation vanishing as soon as he saw their visitors. He pulled off his scarf and handed it to Peggy. ‘Mr and Mrs Bannatyne. To what do we owe the pleasure?’

  ‘I was telling Margaret that her mother and I wish you and your family to come and live with us.’

  ‘Do you indeed? What has brought on this change of heart?’

  From behind her parents Margaret sent him a warning glance. ‘Alasdair, please. Let Father have his say.’

  Alasdair folded his arms and leaned against the bureau. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

  Her father repeated his offer. ‘Naturally James, as my heir, will take over when he reaches his majority.’

  Instead of looking pleased Alasdair shook his head. ‘My son will make his own way in the world – like his father and my father before me.’

  ‘Are you saying no?’ Her father barked. ‘What kind of man denies his son his rightful heritage? Because that is what you are doing.’

  Disappointment washed over her. So that was the real reason he wanted to heal the rift. He didn’t want her – or Alasdair – or even Elizabeth for that matter. He wanted his grandson.

  James, no doubt sensing the tension in the room, began to wail and Margaret took him from his grandfather.

  ‘I’ve said all I’m going to say on the matter,’ Alasdair said steadily. ‘You and Mrs Bannatyne are welcome to visit us and the children any time you please, but we will be staying where we are.’

  Her father picked up his hat. ‘You are even more of a fool than I gave you credit for. Come, Elspeth, it’s time to leave.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have been so quick to refuse him,’ Margaret said when they were alone again and Peggy had taken the children to their bedrooms.

  ‘You don’t agree?’

  ‘If you worked for my father you could change things. You could change everything! Don’t you see? You could ensure the men have good working conditions. You could persuade him to put some of his profit into Govan to support the families of the men who aren’t working. We could even build a hospital there.’ It was still her dream.

  ‘You believe that? After all he’s done to you?’

  ‘I know he’s really only interested in James but you could have made conditions.’ She gave an exasperated click of her tongue. ‘You’re so pig-headed sometimes, Alasdair. So protective of your pride.’

  ‘If I worked for your father I’d be selling my soul, can’t you see that? Day by day he’d have a bit more of me until there was nothing left of the man who went to work for him – nothing of the man you married.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be that way!’

  ‘But it would be.’ He shook his head. What about the men? They would see it as a betrayal. They would never trust me again.’ He was still in almost daily touch with the shipyard workers, using his skills as a qualified lawyer to help them with their grievances.

  ‘There’s no point in arguing with you, is there? Not when you’ve clearly made up your mind.’

  He reached over and pulled her into his arms. ‘No, my love, there isn’t.’

  She sighed and laid her head against his chest. ‘Despite everything, Alasdair, I miss my parents, especially my mother. And the children should know their grandparents.’

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. ‘I wouldn’t stop them seeing the children, you know that. But not if it means giving up our lives to live the way your father wants us to. I promised you before and I promise you again, one day you and our children will have everything you could ever wish for.’

  She shifted her head so she could look up at him. He was still the stubborn, proud man she had first fallen in love with, and would always be. And she wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

  ‘Oh, my love. Don’t you know? We have everything we could ever want, right here.’

  Chapter 14

  If money was tight in the early years of their marriage, it became tighter still. The flat they rented absorbed most of Alasdair’s salary and Peggy had to be paid. Then there were the occasional trips to the seaside, new clothes for their growing children, and a dozen other expenses such as the cost of coal, which Margaret had never had to consider before. Discovering how much everything cost had been an enormous shock. Until the falling-out with her father she’d never had to pay for anything, always ordering whatever she wanted without even asking the price, the bills sent to her father. She hadn’t seen either of her parents since they’d called, her letters unanswered once more.

  Money was tight for everyone. The crash of the stock market in America and then in Great Britain had almost destroyed the economy; ship building in particular. She’d read in the Glasgow Herald that almost a third of the workforce was now unemployed.

  It was money that caused their first real argument. And it was a bitter one.

  A few months after her parents’ surprise visit Alasdair had taken on some pro bono work with the Scottish Transport and General Workers’ Union. It would add at least another few hours onto his already busy week and was bound to bring him face to face with her father at some point. However, she knew how important the work was to Alasdair and supported his decision, even though it meant he’d have even less time to spend at home with her and the children.

  On the whole she left their finances to Alasdair. After he’d paid their monthly expenses, he put a sum aside in a tin box tucked away at the back of a kitchen cupboard. That was their savings towards the house they hoped to buy one day. The rest of his wage he gave to her towa
rds housekeeping and Margaret kept that in a different jar on top of the mantelpiece. She never counted it as Peggy was a shrewd haggler when it came to shopping for groceries, so there was always plenty left over. Occasionally she dipped into it to pay for her lectures and today was such a day. There was a Dr Hamilton over from America and Margaret planned to leave the children in Peggy’s care for a couple of hours so she could attend his talk. But when she looked in the jar it was almost empty, with barely enough to cover the entrance fee. Puzzled, she went to the savings tin but there was nothing at all in it.

  She wasn’t unduly alarmed. No doubt Alasdair would have an explanation. When they’d finished supper that evening, and the children were in bed, Margaret brought the subject up. ‘I know it wouldn’t be Peggy – she’s as honest as the day is long.’ She refilled his tea cup and passed it across to him. ‘Did you put our savings in the bank, sweetheart? It’s just so I know.’

  Alasdair looked up from his paper and frowned. ‘Damn.’ He brushed his hand through his hair. ‘I should have told you. I’m sorry, I meant to, but I’ve been busy. I knew you wouldn’t mind so I gave some of it to the men who are out of work. They’re pretty desperate, you know.’

  ‘Of course I don’t mind you making a contribution.’ After all, they had food on their table, unlike those families.

  Alasdair wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘Many of these families would have starved – or frozen to death – without the money those who could paid into the relief fund. I was better off than most so it stood to reason I put in the most. Even then there wasn’t enough to go around.’ His face darkened. ‘I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. You don’t know what it’s like to go hungry, but I do. I see these families most days. I see their pinched faces, their lips blue with cold, their children wasting away in front of their parents’ eyes. Sometimes I can’t sleep for thinking of them. When we advised them to take action against their employers, how can we stand back and let them face the consequences of that advice?’

  She bristled. ‘And that advice, Alasdair? Are you sure you didn’t encourage them to strike because you have a deep resentment against my father and others like him?’

  ‘You think I do what I do to get back at your father?’ His mouth flattened into a straight line. ‘You know me better than that, Margaret.’

  ‘I thought I did.’

  ‘I had to help. I only wish I could have done more.’

  It wasn’t just about the money – although Alasdair should have kept some aside for emergencies – it was the fact he hadn’t discussed it with her beforehand. He was well aware of how she felt about sharing decisions. Women had so recently been given equal franchise with men and Alasdair knew how she felt about their hard-won rights. At the very least she expected the same equality within her marriage. However, he had been working long hours, so perhaps it wasn’t surprising he’d forgotten to mention it. This time she would let it pass.

  ‘I’ll go there. Bring some food and whatever else we can spare.’

  ‘That would be a great help.’

  Her alarm deepened as she realised he was avoiding her gaze.

  ‘It would mean asking Peggy to look after the children for a couple more hours each day, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Which reminds me, I need to buy our daughter a new coat. Her sleeves are almost up to her elbows on her current one and she could do with new shoes as well. We’ll just have to use some more of our savings, but a pound should cover it. Did you deposit what was left in the bank?’

  Alasdair scraped his chair back and thrust his hands deep in his pockets. She knew her husband well enough to realise he was deeply uncomfortable about something.

  ‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘there’s no bank account. I invested what was left.’

  Margaret laughed. ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

  ‘It was an opportunity too good to miss. Someone I know – a client – is a chemist. He needed money for a patent on a new medicine he’s discovered. It’s a sure-fire bet.’

  Margaret felt herself grow cold. ‘A sure-fire bet? You’ve gambled with our savings?’

  ‘Not gambled, Margaret – invested. I don’t want us to be poor for the rest of our lives. I’ve already done our children out of their inheritance. I owe it to them to make sure they have a secure future. If this client comes good, we could make a very good return. Enough for me to buy my own practice and set you up in one in Glasgow.’

  A wave of anger washed over her. ‘Don’t you think you should have talked it over with me first? I’m a doctor, remember. I would have been able to read the papers this client of yours has written. I might not have been able to understand all the chemistry but I would have been able to make a reasonable judgement about this drug he is patenting.’ Was this how he really saw their marriage? With him making the financial decisions without her having any say? She had no doubt that they would never see the money Alasdair had invested ever again. ‘And I do mind. Not about the money that you gave to the people who needed it. You’re right there. If you’d have told me about the fund I would have agreed with you that we should make a donation. What upsets me is that you didn’t discuss the other matter with me. I thought it was understood we would share that kind of decision.’

  ‘I’m telling you now. My love, don’t be angry. We’ll save it up again.’

  When he reached for her, she stepped back, shaking her head. ‘No, Alasdair. It’s not all right. You’re more like my father than you think. This is just the kind of thing he would have done.’

  The ensuing argument had been fierce and had ended with them lying in bed, both staring silently at the ceiling.

  Then a hand reached out for hers and squeezed it. ‘I’m sorry, I should have discussed it with you first. I was wrong. But he was leaving for America and had other investors interested. I had to make a quick decision or lose out.’

  ‘You could have told me afterwards.’

  ‘I meant to, but there never seemed to be a good time. We hardly see each other.’ Alasdair turned and raised himself on his elbow. ‘Forgive me?’

  ‘As long as you understand that it wasn’t the money that made me angry, but the fact you didn’t talk to me about it. I’m a grown, intelligent woman. Don’t you see? By shutting me out, by keeping all this from me, you’re treating me no better than my father treats my mother. Worse, even. I’m your wife, not your child. You have done me a great disservice.’

  He traced the line of her jaw with the tip of his finger. ‘I know how much you have given up for me. You hold my heart in your hands, you do know that?’

  She felt herself soften towards him. ‘As you hold mine in yours.’

  ‘Now say you forgive your idiot fool of a husband who truly respects and admires you more than anyone.’ He grinned down at her. ‘And who misses you every moment you are not with him, who adores you…’ – he punctuated each phrase with a kiss on her eyes, then her mouth, moving to the base of her throat, his hand moving to the curve of her hip, ‘… who lusts for you.’

  As always his touch set her body on fire, and her body arched towards him. She still had something she needed to say. ‘You have to promise me, Alasdair, that you will never keep things like this from me again.’

  ‘I promise.’ He bent his head and kissed her deeply and then, inevitably, hungrily, they made love.

  Chapter 15

  Margaret was sitting in the front room embroidering the collar of a dress for Elizabeth’s fifth birthday in two days’ time, when there was a loud banging on the front door.

  Hoping the noise hadn’t woken the children, she hurried to answer it, wondering who could be calling at this late hour. Most likely someone looking for Alasdair. His reputation among the Glasgow East Enders as a man to turn to for advice and help had continued to spread wide and far.

  She opened the door to find a young man on the doorstep. ‘If you’re looking for my husband, he’s down at the union offices,’ she said, ‘although I am expecting him home any moment.’r />
  Such was their routine these days. Alasdair would spend the day at his office, only popping home to have tea with her and the children, before heading straight back out again on union business. This evening had been no different. There was a meeting with some men down at the shipyard – her father’s, as it happened – about strike action they were planning over pay and working conditions. They’d had supper, then he’d read to Elizabeth before changing out of his good suit and into his older one from the days when he’d worked as a solicitor’s apprentice. He said the men were more likely to relax around him when they forgot he was no longer one of them. He’d set off at seven. It was wet and windy but as always Alasdair was walking the couple of miles to the union offices. She’d kissed him, distracted, as James was calling her, and Alasdair had left, the door blowing closed behind him.

 

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