by Maggie Craig
Mind you, thought Kate, suppressing a laugh and looking around at the other men, you could say the same for all of them. It was launch day at Donaldson’s and work had come to a standstill. The men stood eagerly awaiting the arrival of the launch party onto the platform which had been constructed at the bow of the ship.
Kate had to admit that she was feeling pretty pleased herself. It had been decreed that the men could bring their families to the launch. Agnes Baxter had come up with the dress she’d promised Kate back in December. It was a sprigged cotton with a honey-coloured background, decorated with tiny flowers in navy and dusky pink. She’d also found a knitting pattern for a bolero which Kate herself had made. It was navy, picking up the colour of the tiny flowers in the dress.
Jessie had knitted one too. Hers was yellow to go with her best frock - which had been Kate’s best frock until she had grown out of it last year. Agnes, looking unusually ferocious with a mouthful of pins, had pronounced the necessity of letting the new dress out at the bust. ‘You’ll never have a flat chest, Kate Cameron, and that’s a fact. Now hop up onto the table so I can check the hem.’
Kate, on display in the kitchen in front of Mammy, her sisters, Granny and what seemed like a sizeable part of the female population of Yoker, had let her hair fall over her face to hide her embarrassment. Fashion might decree a boyish figure and the new bust bodices might be designed to help a girl achieve just that, but Kate knew she was a hopeless case.
Even Mammy had seemed to enjoy all this prettifying. She hadn’t even complained when Neil had found the few shillings necessary to buy the wool for the boleros. She had put her foot down about Kate’s hair though. She might be nearly sixteen, but she wasn’t to be allowed to put it up.
‘You’re no’ going to put your hair up till you’re eighteen, my lady, and there’s an end to it!’
So Kate brushed her hair till it shone and pinned her old straw hat on top of her head. Agnes had helped out again, finding a new piece of navy ribbon to trim it with.
Kate caught sight of a tousled head about twenty yards away, over to her right. Like her, Robbie was scanning the crowd. When she caught his eye he grinned and waved. With a slight inclination of his head he drew Kate’s attention to his father standing beside him. Jim Baxter had his face lifted towards the hull of the Irish Princess, his mouth curved in a smile of pure pleasure. He had his flat cap, his bunnett, clutched to his chest, ready to fling it into the air once she was launched.
‘See you later,’ mouthed Robbie, and Kate nodded.
‘Look,’ she whispered to Jessie and Pearl, ‘Mr Baxter’s going to burst too.’ Jessie giggled, but Pearl gave her a very knowing look.
‘What?’ Kate demanded.
‘Oh, nothing,’ said Pearl. ‘Happy now that you’ve seen him though, are you?’
‘I can’t think what you mean,’ Kate said airily. ‘My goodness, would that wind off the river not cut right through you? You wouldn’t think it was April, would you?’ Pearl gave her another look, one which a twelve-year-old certainly shouldn’t have been capable of.
Robbie was a friend, that was all. There had been no repetition of what had happened at Hogmanay. In her more honest moments, Kate didn’t know whether she was happy or sorry about that.
The noise level around them ebbed and flowed. The wind was cold but it was a beautiful spring day, with a blue sky above them - a good omen for the launch of the Irish Princess. The men had laid her keel last summer and they were bringing her in well on time, although the launch of a ship was far from the end of the story.
Almost as soon as she hit the river, she would be tugged back into the fitting-out basin for the interior work to be done. There was a lot of carpentry involved in that - internal bulkheads and panels for the cabins, the making of the furniture - beds, tables and chairs.
Destined for the Glasgow-Dublin run, the Irish Princess wasn’t a big ship, but she was a bonnie one, small and neat with nice lines.
Kate said as much to her father. ‘What’s that, lass?’ He angled his head to hear her better over the hubbub, rising now in anticipation of the imminent launch.
‘Aye, you’re right there. Lovely lines.’ Neil smiled at his daughter. ‘I wish the whole family could have been here.’
Wee Davie was thick with the cold. For one awful, selfish moment, Kate had been scared that Mammy would make her stay at home to mind him, but Lily had declared that she herself would do it, Granny being no longer fit to be left in charge of a baby.
‘Never mind, Daddy,’ said Kate. “There’ll be plenty of other launches they can come to.’
‘Aye, lass.’ The two words were said without much conviction.
She could have kicked herself. It had been the wrong thing to say. There was no guarantee that there would be plenty of other launches. There was another ship on the stocks, a cargo steamer, but once she was complete there was little else on the order books.
Like many men, her father could and did take his skills to other yards along the river, but it was the same story there. Time-served though he was, a riveter to trade, Neil Cameron had been laid off twice in the past two years. That had been terrible. Kate had nearly had to leave school then. There was dole money, but it didn’t go far - and a family didn’t get it at all until the Means Test Inspector had been to the house, poking and prying and trying to prove there was money coming in to the house from somewhere, that they were lying about what they needed to get by.
Kate’s cheeks burned still at the memory of those humiliating visits and the spectacle of her father being forced to put his Highland pride in his pocket in order to beg for the money to keep his family going until he was back in work.
Trying to think of something to say that would lift the frown creasing his forehead, she was interrupted by Mr Crawford, one of the managers, coming round handing out sweets, a launch-day tradition.
‘Take a couple, lassies. There’s plenty.’ Encouraged by his smile, Jessie shyly did as she was bid, dipping her hand into the crumpled paper bag and extracting two sweets, brightly wrapped in coloured paper.
‘I’ll save one for Davie,’ she told Kate.
‘So will I,’ replied her sister, smiling her thanks to Mr Crawford in his dark suit and bowler hat, the badge of his office.
‘Well, I’m going to eat both o’ mines myself,’ said Pearl, tossing her golden curls.
‘You would,’ said Kate and Jessie in unison. Arthur Crawford moved on, making his way back through the crowd, seeking out the men who belonged to his own squads.
A murmured comment from a few rows in front of them floated back to the Cameron family. ‘Sweeties, is it? And we all know that the bastards in bowlers would pay you off as soon as look at you.’
Neil Cameron’s Highland accent was more pronounced than ever. ‘Mind your language, man. I’ve got my family here.’
‘Oh, sorry, Neil. I didnae notice. Ladies present too, I see.’ The man had turned to look at them. Kate didn’t like the way he was looking Pearl up and down. She liked it even less when he did it to her.
There was a bustle behind them.
‘Launch party coming through!’ bellowed a deep voice.
‘Mrs Donaldson,’ Neil informed his daughters. ‘The owner’s wife.’
Mrs Donaldson was a tall woman, rolls of sleek blonde marcelled hair visible under a wide brimmed hat. She wore a light camel-hair costume with a fox fur round her neck. She swept past yards from the Cameron girls.
‘Oh, doesn’t she look lovely!’ breathed Pearl, staring after her in awe-struck admiration.’
‘Aye, if you want to festoon yourself wi’ dead animals,’ said Jessie acerbically.
Kate grinned at her. Mrs MacLean had a fox fur which she brought out, smelling heavily of mothballs, on special occasions. She arranged it like Mrs Donaldson’s, with the fox’s head hanging down over her bosom. The first time Jessie saw it she had said, ‘The poor wee thing!’ and burst into inconsolable tears. Kate had to admit it gave her the
willies too, glass eyes shining where once the fox’s own eyes had been, glittering and alive in the freedom of the night.
Aware of other eyes on her, Kate turned and met the gaze of a girl who might have been her own age or perhaps a couple of years older. She was walking towards the platform, following the men in bowler hats who, in their turn, were walking behind Mr and Mrs Donaldson.
If Pearl had admired Mrs Donaldson, she was all but speechless now. The girl, tall and willowy - and with practically no bust that Kate could see - was dressed in the latest fashion. Her silk afternoon frock had the new fashionable low waist and the skirt was cut on the bias so that the material hung and clung in the most flattering way. The cloth was almost the same colour as Kate’s frock but the pattern on it was abstract, modern and right up-to-date. Kate, so proud a few minutes before of her pretty sprigged cotton, felt dowdy and old-fashioned in comparison. The girl’s hair was short and fair, tucked neatly under one of the new little cloche hats. Two long strings of pearls completed the picture. She smiled at Kate and moved on, making her way elegantly up onto the launch platform. Her legs were slim but shapely, encased in shiny silk stockings.
‘Well, look who it is. The workers’ friend.’
Several heads in the crowd turned and there was a rumble of disapproving murmurs. A couple were hurrying through the crowd - well, they were trying to hurry. The woman looked like a bad imitation of Mrs Donaldson. She had the fox fur all right, but her camel-hair costume wasn’t nearly so well cut and it was at least two sizes too small. She was red in the face from what seemed to be unaccustomed exertion.
It was her husband who had caught the interest of the men. After a second or two, Kate recognised him. He was the Means Test Inspector. She glanced anxiously at her father’s thunderous face. With a few others he moved to bar the man’s progress. The Camerons weren’t the only family to have been visited by him in the past couple of years.
‘How you’ve got the brass neck to show your face here-’
‘I only do my job, Cameron. Just like you.’
‘Aye, but you enjoy it a wee bit too much for our liking,’ said another man, his voice a growl of soft menace. The three Cameron sisters exchanged anxious glances. They knew from experience that it often took a lot less than this for a fight to break out.
‘My lady wife and I have an invitation,’ blustered the man. ‘From Mr Donaldson himself.’
‘I don’t care if you’ve got an invitation from the Archangel Gabriel.’
‘Wullie!’ his wife wailed. ‘We’re not going to see a demned thing.’
Jessie snorted. ‘Touch of the pan loaf, wouldn’t you say?’ she murmured. It was the expression they used for anyone trying to put on airs and graces. Anxiety at the prospect of missing the launch was stripping the mock-gentility from the woman’s speech, her working-class origins shining through. Her elocution teacher would have been ashamed of her.
‘Gentlemen! Gentlemen!’ It was the man who had looked Kate and Pearl up and down. He laid a restraining hand on a couple of shoulders. ‘Let’s not have any trouble on launch day now. We’ll allow the lady and gentleman to pass. In fact, we’ll do better than that. We’ll find them an excellent vantage point - just to show there’s no hard feelings.’
Neil Cameron and the other men fell back without a murmur, bland smiles on their faces. Kate had seen nothing, but somehow a signal had been given. Ushering the inspector and his wife through the crowd, the apparent peacemaker turned and gave her a swift wink. She looked across at her father. There was a definite twinkle in his eye, but he put one long finger up to his mouth in a gesture of silence.
‘May God bless her and all who sail in her!’ The bottle of champagne broke over the bow. For one awful, heart-stopping moment Kate thought the ship wasn’t going to move at all. The crowd seemed to be holding its collective breath. Jess slipped her hand into Kate’s. Even Pearl darted an anxious glance up at their father.
Then, so slowly at first that the movement was barely perceptible, the Irish Princess began to slide away from the platform towards the river. All of a sudden she gathered speed and a roar went up from the assembled workforce. She was really moving now, so swiftly that Kate saw why they had to attach chains to arrest her progress towards the Clyde. Huge rusty red clouds of dust rose from them, sparks flew out and there was a noise like the sea washing over shingle - only a hundred times louder. She hit the river.
‘Oh, Daddy, she’s no’ gonnae sink, is she?’ cried Jessie.
Neil Cameron laughed. ‘The Clyde’s not deep enough for her to sink, lassie. Just watch what happens now, and keep your eye on those daft laddies right down by the waterfront.’ He pointed out a knot of apprentices standing to the right of the slipway and several yards above it. A man and woman stood with them. ‘We got the boys to show those folk a really good vantage point.’
Jessie’s eyes were dancing. ‘Och, Daddy, you didnae!’
Neil chuckled. ‘We did, lassie. We did!’
Just when it looked as though the Irish Princess might be going to sink after all, she bobbed and righted herself. The bunnets were flung in the air and a mighty cheer went up. It was followed by a deep rumbling laugh which spread throughout the assembled crowd. When the ship slid into the water, her displacement caused a great wave to come back up the slipway. It was huge and unstoppable, rising several yards to cover anyone foolish enough to be standing near it. The apprentices yelped and ran. The Means Test Inspector and his wife also yelped - and tried to run. It was no use, the force of the water too rapid for them. They were soaked from head to foot.
The excitement over, people began to mingle. Under cover of the general conversation, Kate asked Robbie about the young woman who’d been part of the launch party.
‘Oh, that’s Donaldson’s daughter, Marjorie. My Ma does some dressmaking for her and her mother.’
So that’s what the look and the wee smile had been about. Kate was wearing Marjorie Donaldson’s cast-offs.
‘She’s a smasher,’ broke in Pearl. ‘Don’t you think so, Robbie?’
‘If you like that skinny, straight up and down look, I suppose,’ he said absently, turning to wave to some of the other apprentices.
Kate laughed. Smiling at Robbie, she gestured towards the launch platform.
‘A sturdily built structure, eh?’
Robbie grinned back. Pearl looked puzzled.
‘I don’t think building a platform’s very exciting.’
Robbie’s dark eyebrows went up. ‘Oh, you don’t, Miss Pearl Cameron? Let me tell you something. That platform marks a great pinnacle of achievement for me. It’s the first thing I’ve actually been allowed to do any real carpentry on - and it’s a good deal better than being sent to fetch some tartan paint.’
Neil Cameron clapped Robbie on the shoulders. ‘Och, laddie, you didn’t fall for that one, did you?’
Robbie gave him a wry smile. ‘That one - and the long stand. Green as cabbage, I was.’
Neil laughed, as did Jim Baxter. Jessie wrinkled her nose. ‘What’s the long stand?’
Jim Baxter explained. ‘When a laddie gets a start, there’s a few jokes get played on him at first. One is being sent to fetch the tartan paint and another one is to send him for a long stand. When he gets to the store, the chap there tells him he’ll need to wait a while for it.’ He turned to Neil for confirmation. ‘I’ve known laddies wait half an hour. Have you not, Neil?’
‘Even longer sometimes,’ said Neil, nodding his head and smiling at Robbie.
‘So eventually the laddie gets fed up and repeats the request - he was sent for a long stand - to which the answer is - you’ve just had it!’
‘Well, girls?’ asked Jim when they had all finished laughing. ‘What did you think of the launch then?’
‘It was great,’ said Kate. ‘Really exciting. And when she hit the water-‘
‘Aye,’ said Jessie. ‘That was rare, especially when those folk at the front got soaked.’ She laughed up at Kate. �
�I was scared she wasn’t going to move at first, were you not, Kate?’
‘It’s always like that, lass,’ said Neil, putting a large hand out to smooth his youngest daughter’s hair. ‘Your heart’s in your mouth... and then she goes down so sweetly, like a seal sliding off a rock into the ocean. It’s quite something to watch a ship you’ve worked on with your own two hands take to the water.’ His voice was suddenly husky.
‘Aye, Da,’ Kate said gently, giving Jessie a quick smile. ‘Pride of the Clyde.1
Neil Cameron, his eyes bright, patted Kate on the shoulder.
‘Huh!’ said Pearl in disgust. ‘Listen to the lot of you. It’s just a big lump o’ iron and metal and wood. And now she’s launched, there’ll be no work for the Black Squad.’
Kate could have hit her sister. Her father’s face fell and the light which had been in it a few seconds before died away as though it had never been. As a riveter, he belonged to the Black Squad, the team of men who worked on the basic skeleton of a ship. Once the hull was complete, there was no work for them. They either moved on to the next yard on the river which was laying the keel for a ship or they were out of work - for days, weeks or months.
Neil Cameron was still working at Donaldson’s because of the small cargo ship still on the stocks, but her hull wasn’t going to take long to complete. If another order didn’t come in soon, Neil knew as well as anybody what was going to happen. None better.
He was proud of his skills and it pained him to be idle. Kate frowned at her sister behind their father’s back. Pearl looked innocently back. She was a minx.
Kate looked up and saw the understanding in Robbie’s eyes. At least, she thought, trying to smile at him, there would be plenty of work for him and his father. Carpentry was a good trade. It would take a good few months to complete the internal fitting out of the Irish Princess.
Unless one of the yards on the river got another order, however, things were soon going to get hard again in the Cameron household - and Kate’s chances of staying on at school were growing smaller by the day.
