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The Back of Beyond

Page 8

by Doris Davidson


  ‘It doesn’t matter, Manny,’ Alistair muttered as the old man took a sip of tea. ‘We don’t need …’

  ‘Let me finish,’ his employer scolded. ‘On the way back, it came to me – a gift without parallel! Return tickets to London for your parents and sister.’

  Alistair shook his head angrily. ‘No, I can’t let you do that, Manny.’

  ‘You are flinging my gift back in my face, hmm? I believe it to be the best I could possibly have thought of, and the milk has been spilt …’ He smiled at the young man’s bewilderment. ‘The tickets are already bought and the seats reserved. You see, hmm? Consider, also, how your Gwen would feel if none of your family comes to your wedding. She will not want a groom standing miserably by her side wishing that his mother was there. Furthermore, so that she will not feel left out, she can come to the shop and choose a necklace or something of the kind which will be my gift to her.’

  Despite his advanced age, Alistair could no longer hold back the tears, but they were tears of happiness, of gratitude, of love for this old man who had been like a father to him since the very day they met.

  The twenty-eighth day of September 1932 dawned as bright and warm as a day in the middle of July, and there was pandemonium in the Crocker household as four adults made themselves ready for the big occasion – Rosie Jenkins having decided that it would be nice to invite the grooms’ landlady and her husband as guests. Alistair would have loved to ask Manny, too, but he could see that it would cause difficulties, because Dougal couldn’t invite all the people who worked with him. With only one bathroom – there was a dividing wall between it and the lavatory, thankfully – Len said he’d do his ablutions in the scullery, as long as nobody came in and saw him washing his ‘naughty bits’.

  Ivy joked that she wouldn’t mind who saw her ‘naughty bits’, which made them all laugh, although it gave Alistair cause to worry. He knew nothing of a woman’s ‘naughty bits’ and maybe Gwen wasn’t as innocent as he thought. Hadn’t Marge told Dougal ages ago that her sister had been let down by some bloke when she was younger? But she’d have told him, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t the kind to hide anything as serious as that. She was bound to know he would find out … on their wedding night. Tonight.

  Ready first and waiting, a tight bundle of nerves, for Dougal to tie a satisfactory knot in his tie, Alistair’s thoughts strayed to the previous evening, when they had met their families at King’s Cross – the better-off Finnies had been quite happy to spend money on fares to see their son being married. The reunions had been very emotional after such a long separation, hugs and kisses (unusual for Scots) exchanged tearfully on the platform, and then they all piled into a large hackney carriage to be transported to Guilford Street, where Rosie had seen to making rooms ready for the important visitors.

  The meeting of relatives and soon-to-be-in-laws had gone off very well, Alistair recalled, everyone taking to everyone else, and his mother had even found an opportunity to whisper that she was pleased he was marrying such a nice girl. ‘She’ll make you a good wife,’ she had added, ‘so you make sure you treat her right.’ He would have married Gwen supposing the verdict had gone the other way, of course, but it was better that it was so favourable.

  He was brought back to the present by Dougal’s loud sigh of satisfaction. ‘Thank the Lord, that’s it straight now. You know this, Ally, I’m in a right old state! I don’t know how you can look so calm.’

  ‘Maybe I look calm,’ Alistair mumbled, ‘but I don’t feel calm.’

  The last five minutes, waiting for the cab which would convey them to the Register Office where the ceremony was to take place, seemed an eternity to both young men, but Ivy, looking very smart in a midnight blue grosgrain suit and matching straw hat, stopped nerves getting the better of them. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do without you two handsome blokes,’ she giggled. ‘I’ll have nobody to share my bed now when you’re away, Len.’

  Knowing his wife’s propensity for exaggeration, he gave a hearty guffaw. ‘They wouldn’t have come anywhere near you, Ivy, and …’ he pretended to scowl, ‘if they had, I’d have knocked their ruddy blocks off.’

  Ivy chuckled again. ‘A girl can dream, can’t she?’

  The arrival of the taxi put an end to the conversation, and they were soon being borne as swiftly as possible through London’s rush-hour traffic.

  Breakfast was an embarrassing time in the hotel for at least four of the people round the table the following morning. As Dougal confided to Alistair on their way back from seeing their families off that evening, ‘I didn’t think it would bother me, but I felt awful sitting there with them all knowing what Marge and me had been up to. Oh boy, what a time we had, hardly a wink of sleep all night. How did you get on?’

  ‘We were the same.’ Alistair had no wish to discuss the rapturous hours he and Gwen had spent in their first taste of sexual intercourse, for he had discovered, to his infinite relief, that his bride was still a virgin.

  ‘My Mam and Dad were really taken with Marge,’ Dougal observed after a minute.

  ‘Mine were taken with Gwen and all,’ Alistair was happy to say. ‘It’s a pity we’re so far away, though. I’d have liked to show her round the Forvit area.’

  ‘I promised Mam I’d take Marge up for a holiday in the spring. We could all go together … oh no. The girls wouldn’t get off at the same time, of course.’

  ‘I couldn’t afford it, any road. Gwen wants us to save as much as we can, in case babies start coming … you know …?’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Dougal seemed taken aback at her planning for this at so early a stage.

  ‘I might manage to take her away somewhere for a few days, though – Kent, maybe. I’ve heard it’s lovely there.’

  ‘Aye, that would be nice. Em … Ally, how d’you think we’ll get on in the hotel?’

  ‘What d’you mean, get on?’

  ‘Well, we’re bound to feel like two goldfish in a bowl with everybody watching us. I did tell Tiny I wanted to buy our own wee house, not too far away so Marge could still work for him, but he wouldn’t hear of it.’

  ‘Ach, we’ll get used to it.’

  ‘We’ll have no privacy, that’s what I’ll miss.’

  Alistair grinned. ‘We hadn’t much privacy at Ivy’s, either. She always liked to know everything we were doing.’

  ‘Aye well, but that was different. I wasn’t wanting to take you to bed every spare minute you had, like I’ll be with Marge.’

  ‘You knew what you were taking on, and you’ll just have to put up with it.’

  ‘How did the wedding go?’

  ‘It was just perfect, Lexie.’ Unaware that she was turning the screws on her listener’s tortured heart, Bella Ritchie gave a full description of her visit to London, breaking off if another customer came in and carrying on again afterwards as if there had been no interruption. ‘It was different, wi’ two brides. I thought they’d be dressed the same, being sisters, but they’re nothing like each other. Dougal’s wife, Marge, she’s the bouncy kind, full o’ life, and she’s dark-haired like him, though I’d say hers is even curlier. Gwen, now, that’s Alistair’s wife, her hair’s a lovely blonde, natural like yours, nae like some I saw doon there, and it shines pale gold in the electric light. Her face is thinner than her sister’s and she’s a lot quieter, but they’re real nice lassies, though I didna understand half o’ what they said, they spoke that quick. Mind you, they’d a job makin’ my Willie oot, for he couldna think on the English for what he wanted to say.’

  ‘But you managed to get on with … Gwen?’

  ‘Nae bother! I couldna have wished for a better …’ About to say ‘a better daughter-in-law’, Bella finally remembered how attached Lexie had been to Alistair before he went away and caught her runaway tongue. ‘… a better day,’ she substituted, clumsily. ‘Sun shining and an awful lot warmer than it is up here. And the Jenkinses is just like ony o’ us. Nae side to them though they’ve got a fine big hotel. There’
s a younger sister, and all, Peggy her name is, and the three o’ them work there, waitressing, cleaning the rooms and such like, good workers, they are.’

  ‘Oh aye?’ Lexie felt obliged to make some kind of comment.

  ‘Rosie, their mother, she’s a right nice soul, slim like them and quiet, but it’s my opinion she rules the roost, though her man wouldna like folk to think that. He was the biggest surprise we got. You should have seen him, Lexie … a great fat mountain o’ a man, and he does all the cooking sitting on a stool in the kitchen in the basement. The meal – the wedding breakfast they cried it though we didna sit doon till four o’clock – oh, I canna tell you how good it was. Willie said it was the kind o’ soup he likes best, the kind you can stand your spoon up in, I canna tak’ him nae place, then he said the fancy stuffing wi’ the roasted turkey went round his heart like a hairy worm, and I coulda kicked him, but they seemed pleased aboot it.’

  ‘They likely took it as a compliment.’

  ‘Aye, and so it was meant … if they understood it.’

  ‘Was it a kirk wedding?’

  ‘No, no! It was in a Register Office, then back to the hotel in taxis. Mind, I’d’ve been happier if it had been a kirk wedding, but … ach, I suppose that’s the English way o’ doing it, and the registrar had us a’ in tears at the gentle way he advised them to respect their vows, even Tiny, that’s Alistair’s father-in-law …’

  ‘Tiny?’ Lexie gave a brittle laugh. ‘That’s a funny name if he’s so fat.’

  ‘It was a nickname he got in the army. To get back to my story, Gwen being the oldest daughter, her and Alistair was wed first – she’ll be nineteen next month the same as him. Dougal was best man and young Peggy, I think she’s fifteen or sixteen, she was bridesmaid for her two sisters, and Dougal had Alistair for his best man.’

  ‘What were the brides wearing?’ The poor girl couldn’t help but prolong the agony; she was so anxious to know as much as she could.

  ‘Well, Marge was in a sky-blue crepe-di-Chine dress, fitted bodice wi’ a gored skirt – I was surprised she’d chose blue when her eyes are so dark brown, but it really suited her. Gwen looked a picture in a deep pink two-piece, moygashel, I think it was, and Peggy had a plain cream … no, darker than cream, more biscuit – plain linen kind of frock wi’ a Peter Pan collar. Rosie had on a navy costume wi’ a velvet collar, very smart, wi’ a white blouse and a white straw hat.’

  ‘And was there any other guests … besides you three and the Finnies?’

  ‘Mr and Mrs Crocker was there, them the boys lodged wi’, nice woman Ivy is, and all, maybe a bit owner much to say, but she was friendly enough. That was the lot.’

  ‘I’d have thought Alistair would’ve invited his boss. Alice said it was him that paid your fares.’

  ‘The Jenkinses just wanted a quiet family do. But Mr Isaacson – Manny, he likes to be cried – he came to King’s Cross to introduce himself when we were coming hame; he’s a proper gentleman. He’s the first Jew I ever met, and if they’re a’ like him, I dinna ken where folk get the idea they’re oot to rob everybody. I tried to tell him how grateful I was to him for sending us the tickets, but he said he’d bought them as a wedding present for Alistair, because he’d been that disappointed we werena going. That’s the kind of man he is, like I said, a real gentleman. And Rosie and Tiny wouldna tak’ onything for letting us bide there for the two nights, so we’ve had a right treat and it didna cost us a brass farthing.’

  Having exhausted her subject, Bella said, breathlessly, ‘I’m forgetting to ask. How’s your Mam just now?’

  Lexie shook her head and gave a dismal sigh. ‘She’s not good. The doctor says it’s just a matter of weeks.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, lass, and me raving on like that about the wedding. Can I do anything to help you, Lexie? Would you like me to come and sit wi’ her sometimes?’

  ‘Thanks, Bella, but her sister came up from Perth on Sunday for a fortnight. I doubt if she’d know you, anyway. She doesn’t know me, sometimes. I think I’ll need to get somebody into the shop when my Auntie Mina goes home, so I’ll have more time to look after Mam.’

  ‘Poor Carrie. Look, I could easy sit wi’ her every day to let you keep working. Me and her aye got on fine.’

  ‘It would be too much for you, Bella, walking three miles here and three miles back every day. Anyway, I don’t think she’ll last much longer, to be honest.’

  Thus prepared, Bella was not surprised to hear, less than a week later, that Carrie Fraser had died in the night. It was better that she was at peace, especially for Lexie’s sake. And she was glad on her own behalf, and all, Bella thought guiltily. She was so easily tired nowadays she doubted if she’d have had the energy to walk to the village to sit with the poor woman, never mind walk back.

  When he arrived at work about two weeks after the wedding, Alistair’s solemn face prompted Manny to say, ‘Have you and Gwen had words?’

  ‘No, no. I just learned that the girl I used to go with at home … her mother died.’

  ‘Ah! And you have discovered that you still feel a little something for her?’

  ‘I … I feel sorry for her, that’s all. Carrie Fraser was a real nice woman, and Lexie’s left on her own now.’

  ‘You are having regrets, hmm?’

  ‘I’ll never regret marrying Gwen, but … ach, Lexie’ll be free to find somebody else now. She was a nice enough girl, just a bit overpowering, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘She was too pushy? She wanted you to make a full commitment?’

  ‘That’s right, and I wasn’t ready for it. We were just sixteen.’

  ‘And now, at the ripe old age of nineteen, you are a happily married man.’ Manny threw back his head and laughed.

  ‘I am happily married,’ Alistair retorted, a little put out by his employer’s amusement, ‘and even if I’d never left Forvit, Lexie still wouldn’t have got me to marry her. She was bad enough before, but after her father walked out, she was ten times worse.’

  Manny’s smile vanished. ‘Her father walked out? It is not surprising, then, that the girl was a little unbalanced. Why did he go? He must have had a reason, poor man.’ He shook his head mournfully.

  ‘There was rumours he’d run away with a girl he’d put in the family way, but the folk that knew him best found that hard to believe, for he was a good-living man – elder in the kirk, trained the choir, and he’d not long taken over the treasurer’s job.’

  Manny stroked his beard. ‘Would he have been in financial difficulties?’

  ‘There was no money missing. They got auditors in to make sure, but it was all in order, and so were his own accounts in the shop and the post office.’

  ‘No outstanding debts?’

  ‘Nothing! It’s a complete mystery.’ Alistair’s sigh was long and slightly ragged. ‘Now this! Poor Lexie, I hope it doesn’t push her over the edge.’

  Manny hastily changed the subject. ‘How is your dear mother?’

  ‘She’s fine, as usual, running after Dad and Alice …’

  ‘As she had run after you when you were at home, no doubt?’

  Alistair grinned now. ‘Aye, that’s right.’

  Having seen her Auntie Mina on to the bus for Aberdeen where she would catch the train to Perth, Lexie lay back in her chair. She should feel utterly exhausted after the stir of the funeral, but it was as if she were floating on air. She had no one to worry about except herself now that her mother’s suffering was at an end. It would be a perfect situation if only Alistair Ritchie hadn’t left. He would have married her now, and they would have lived happily ever after. But Alistair had gone to London, and he hadn’t had time to tire of his bride, so it would be useless to give up everything to go down there after him.

  Feeling a tear trickling down her cheek, Lexie wiped it away angrily with her forefinger. Why should she cry? She hadn’t given up on him yet. Give it another year or two, and things could be different.

  Tiny attacked the pastry viol
ently with the rolling pin. ‘I should have known!’ he stormed. ‘All the ruddy Jocks I ever knew were randy buggers! The trouble was, I thought it would be Dougal who’d strike home first, but it’s my Gwennie that’s been nobbled and it’s only nine weeks since the bloody wedding. Surely Alistair could have waited a year or two before he filled her belly.’

  ‘Calm yourself, Tiny,’ cautioned Rosie. ‘Do you want the girls to hear you?’

  ‘I don’t care who hears me.’ Nevertheless, he did lower his voice. ‘I can’t run this place without Gwennie.’

  ‘You managed with just two before Peggy left school.’

  Tiny made a rude noise. ‘Gwennie’s worth Marge and Peg put together, as you know perfectly well.’

  ‘Well, it’s done now and you can’t do a thing about it.’ Thinking that it would be wise to issue a caution, Rosie continued, ‘Don’t say anything nasty to Alistair, or criticize him to Gwen. At least they waited till after the wedding to start their family.’

  ‘Good God, Rosie! You don’t think he’d been at her before they were married? I’ll knock his teeth down his ruddy throat if he had!’

  ‘For heaven’s sake! I don’t for one second think that, so take it easy! Your face is as red as a beetroot. You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you’re not careful.’

  ‘Could you blame me?’

  ‘Yes, I’d blame you! Gwen’ll be able to work practically to the time of the birth, provided you don’t make her do anything strenuous. And with four women in the place, there’ll be no shortage of nurses for the little one when it’s born.’

  Her husband glared at her in exasperation. ‘You’re looking forward to this … to being a grandma, aren’t you?’

  ‘I certainly am.’ Rosie gave a rapturous sigh. ‘And when you’re a grandpa, you’ll feel exactly the same.’

 

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