by Maggie Craig
‘He’s a married man, Pearl. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ An image of Marjorie Drummond flashed across his mind’s eye. This would crucify her, if she ever learned of it.
‘I know what I’m doing.’
It was a front - he could see that. As much of a mask as her marcelled hair and the heavy make-up she wore.
‘You’re only nineteen, for God’s sake, Pearl. Nineteen!’
‘Mmm. Old enough,’ came the drawl he was learning to hate. ‘And deliciously young enough. You ought to try it sometime, Baxter. Variety is the spice of life, after all. But I hear from Jeanne that you’re quite the old faithful married man. How touching.’
Robbie rose so quickly from his seat that he took his two guardians by complete surprise. As his fist made contact with Jack Drummond’s face he felt nothing but satisfaction. The bastard was going to be nursing a beautiful black eye tomorrow. Good. Let him explain that to his wife and their rich friends.
Jack Drummond, however, albeit pushed back against the wall by the force of Robbie’s blow, was smiling at him. Then he began to speak. And as the words spilled from his mouth, Robert Baxter’s world shattered into a thousand pieces.
As she came down onto Dumbarton Road an elderly man stopped at the sight of her.
‘Have you come into money, hen? Naebody’s got the right to look as happy as you do this afternoon.’
Kate beamed at him in passing. ‘Much better than money,’ she said. ‘Much better.’
He smiled back. ‘Well, God bless you, pet.’
Money, in fact, was going to be tight. However, she could go on working for the next three months - maybe four - and the emergency fund was healthy. A mile or so along the road, the hull of the 534 was still looming, rusting, over the town. Now and again the Clydebank Press reported plans to get work started on her again, but so far nothing had come of it.
Surely something would happen soon? Of course it would, Kate told herself firmly. On a day like today anything seemed possible. Work would restart, the men would be earning again. Once the baby was old enough, she could go back to working for Marjorie. Everything was going to be fine. She walked across the road to the tram stop.
‘Hello there, it’s only me,’ she called out as she pushed open the front door. The house seemed strangely quiet.
‘Robbie, did you forget that you were to collect Grace today? Robbie?’
He was standing staring out of the window, his back to her, and he hadn’t turned to greet her. Sharp as a shard of broken glass, a bolt of anxiety shot through Kate.
‘Robbie, is something the matter?’ She crossed the room and put a hand up to his shoulder, taking an involuntary step back when he whirled around and hissed at her through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t touch me!’
His face was pale, his eyes as cold and flat as the river in winter. She knew then. Knew even before he looked at her and asked the question which changed everything.
‘Grace is Jack Drummond’s daughter, isn’t she?’
A terrible stillness descended on the kitchen.
He had worked it out on the way home. Done the sums. It was easy enough when he put his mind to it. The date of his sister’s death was burned into his brain. He could pinpoint every event by relation to it. Funny how it had never occurred to him to do the calculations before.
A lot of things had never occurred to him. Like the fact that Grace had supposedly been born a good month early, yet she was a healthy bouncing baby. Like the real reason why Kate had been so terrified on their wedding night. Not the natural fear and embarrassment of a shy and innocent bride, as he had thought, but the fear of him finding out that her virginity, that most precious of gifts, had already been given to someone else. To Jack Drummond.
‘You ought to listen to me, Baxter,’ he had advised, ignoring the blood oozing from his nose. ‘I’m by way of being a bit of an expert on the Cameron girls.’ He had paused then, deliberately prolonging the agony, playing with Robbie as Mr Asquith might have played with a mouse, pushing Pearl’s hand away as she dabbed with her handkerchief at his face.
‘I’ve had this little trollop several times,’ he said softly. Then, watching Robbie’s stricken face grow paler and paler, ‘And I’ve had your wife too.’ Jack Drummond smiled, and his voice grew smooth as silk. ‘Before you ever did, Baxter.’
Robbie wasn’t entirely clear what had happened next, except that his brain and his tongue began frantically trying to deny what had just been said. Jack, still smiling, went on to supply him with the details: when and where and how, talking about Kate, his Kate, in a way that made Robbie’s skin crawl. He had slumped back down onto the couch, and he had mumbled Kate’s name. Then Grace’s. Pearl, still kneeling beside Jack, had shot him a quick, sharp look.
He didn’t remember leaving the flat. He found himself on the tram heading back to Clydebank, his brain doing somersaults and his heart growing heavier and heavier as each stop brought him closer to home. What had used to be home.
Kate’s mouth had gone dry and she had to lick her lips before she could speak. The words came out as an agonized whisper.
‘How did you find out?’
A grimace contorted Robbie’s lips. ‘Not going to deny it, then?’
Kate shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Robbie made a funny little noise in his throat and proceeded to tell her exactly how he had found out. He did it briefly and succinctly, relating it all in a flat, unemotional voice, but he left nothing out - including Pearl Cameron’s involvement.
‘Pearl - with Jack Drummond! Oh, no!’ Kate shook her head. ‘Tell me it’s not true! Please, Robbie!’
Something flashed in the flat grey eyes.
‘Don’t use my name!’ He put a hand up to his face, bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Taking an instinctive step towards him, Kate was halted in her tracks when he raised his head again, looked her full in the face and spoke, his voice clear and unbroken.
‘Why should it not be true? We all know that Pearl’s a cheap wee tart, don’t we?’ He raised his dark eyebrows in interrogation. Then, his eyes locking with Kate’s, he delivered the body blow. ‘Following in her big sister’s footsteps, you might say.’
It was as though he had struck her physically. She flinched, wrapped her arms about her body and clumsily found her way to a chair, her legs giving way as she got there. She raised huge, hurt eyes to him.
‘Robbie...’
‘I asked you not to use my name.’ He sounded perfectly calm.
‘W-won’t you let me try to explain? To apologize?’ Her voice broke, and the shaking hand she was reaching out towards him fell back uselessly into her lap.
‘It’s a bit late for that, d’ye no’ think?’ He was looking impassively across the room at her. ‘I’m going out,’ he announced abruptly. ‘You don’t have to worry about Grace.’ There had been a tiny pause before he said his daughter’s name. Jack Drummond’s daughter’s name. ‘I’ll ask my Ma to keep her for the night. I’ll tell her you’re not well.’
‘You won’t say anything to Grace, will you?’
His voice dripped contempt. ‘What do you take me for? It’s not the wee lassie’s fault.’
The wee lassie. Could he not even bring himself to say her name a second time, then?
‘When will you be back?’ she asked miserably.
The expression in his eyes was unfathomable. ‘When I see fit.’
An hour later there was a knock at the door. Kate flew to it. If he’d just give her a chance to explain, to apologize ... She’d go down on her knees to him if she had to. She swung the door wide.
‘Do you hate me, Kate?’ asked Pearl. Her pretty face was streaked with tears.
‘Och, Pearl,’ Kate said wearily. ‘You’d better come in.’
Turning, she led the way into the room. Then she sat down at the table and buried her head in her hands.
‘Why should I hate you?’ she asked.
‘Be
cause I’ve been ... going with Jack.’ Kate didn’t lift her head. After a second or two Pearl spoke again. ‘And because I’ve just been to see her - Marjorie Drummond.’
That brought Kate’s gaze back to her sister’s face.
‘In the name of God, Pearl.’ What possessed you to do that?’
Pearl sniffed. ‘It was the way he spoke to me - Jack Drummond, I mean. He called me a-. Well, what he said wasn’t very nice. He might have given me lots of presents. ..’
Kate drew her breath in sharply. Pearl tossed her blonde head.
‘It wasn’t like that, Kate. Honest! He came into the shop about a year ago. Knew me straightaway, even remembered my name. Then we started seeing each other...’ She caught sight of the expression on her sister’s face. ‘Och, I know, I know! But where’s the harm in it really?’
‘Pearl...’ Kate shook her head.
‘It wasn’t nasty, Kate. It wasn’t like being pressed up against the wall of a close with someone fumbling at your buttons and not knowing how to treat you right. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime. Jack took me to nice places, even bought me champagne sometimes.’
Champagne - of course. A tried and tested seduction technique.
‘And he took you to that place where Robbie was today?’ Kate asked, her voice a whisper. ‘And you let him ...’ She didn’t finish the question. The expression on Pearl’s face was answer enough.
‘There was no call to use that word about me. And he didn’t need to tell Robbie about you and him. Robbie didn’t need to know that.’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Och, Kate, if you had seen his face. He looked that shocked ... as white as a sheet. I think he couldn’t believe it at first.’
Well, he believed it now, didn’t he?
‘It was so unfair! I thought she should know too - know exactly what sort of man her husband was.’ Pearl’s voice grew quieter. ‘Once I’d told her I kind of wished I hadn’t. She looked a bit like Robbie had...’
Kate squeezed her eyes tight shut for a moment. Oh Marjorie, I’m sorry you had to find out like this!
‘I’ve just realized what a fool I’ve been,’ said Pearl. With an abrupt, jerky movement, she pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Kate.
‘Join the club,’ Kate said softly.
Pearl gave her a shaky smile. ‘I thought you were in love with him. Jack Drummond, I mean.’
Kate shook her head. ‘Once, maybe. Not any more. Not for a long time.’
‘Robbie’s been here?’ Pearl asked after a pause.
Kate sniffed, and wiped her nose with the back of her hand like a child.
‘Been and gone. Och Pearl, I don’t know if he’s ever coming back!’
Pearl opened her bag and took out a handkerchief and a pack of cigarettes. She offered both of them to her sister, who took one and shook her head at the other.
‘I don’t smoke, Pearl.’
‘Aye, well, maybe you should take it up.’ She lit up herself, watching as Kate wiped her eyes with the scrap of lace-trimmed cloth. ‘After you with the hanky, sister dear.’
Kate gave a half laugh. We’re a right pair, aren’t we?’ She blew her nose heartily and then realized what she had done. ‘Och, Pearl, I’m sorry. I can’t give it back to you now, can I?’
‘Keep it,’ her sister said. ‘I think I’ve stopped greeting now.’
Kate gave her a tremulous smile. ‘What did Marjorie say?’
Pearl took several puffs on her cigarette before she answered. ‘She asked me what age my niece was. Exactly.’
‘Oh.’
So now Marjorie knew everything. Poor Marjorie. That was someone else Kate had betrayed, and she was sorry for it. She’d lost a husband and a friend today - and a job too, she supposed. She could hardly waltz into the studio tomorrow as though nothing had happened.
She bent forward so that her head was resting on the table, cushioned by her arms. Neither sister spoke for a long time, not until Pearl had smoked the first cigarette and lit a second one.
‘What are you going to do, Kate?’
‘I don’t know.’ It came out as a mumble, her voice muffled by her arms. ‘I haven’t a clue.’
‘Well, I know what I’m going to do,’ Pearl announced. She spoke so decisively that Kate lifted her head to look at her. Grinding out her cigarette, Pearl opened her handbag once more and brought out her powder compact, lipstick and mascara. She smiled grimly at the puzzled look on Kate’s face.
‘Jack Drummond’s no’ the only fish in the sea - not by a long chalk. I’ve had other offers. There’s a very nice fella - a bit old, forty if he’s a day, but a real gent - who’s been pestering me for months. Wants to set me up in a wee flat in Glasgow. He’d pay all the bills. I wouldn’t even need to go out to work.’ She spat on the brush, rubbed it on the block of mascara and applied it to her eyelashes. ‘And if he’s changed his mind there’s a few others that might be interested. Jeanne - the woman at the house - says she could rent me out a room.’
Unable to believe what she was hearing, Kate struggled to find words. ‘Pearl - you can’t!’
Her sister stopped, lipstick in hand. ‘How no’?’
‘It’s not respectable, that’s how no’!’
Pearl laid the lipstick down on the table. She looked at Kate, glanced around the shabby flat, then looked back at Kate.
‘Respectable? You think respectable is the be-all and end-all? Well, I don’t. I don’t want to scrimp and save and never have anything nice to eat or to wear. I want the good things in life.’ She waved her arm in the direction of the outside world. ‘They’re all out there, Kate. And I’m damn’ sure I’m going to get my share.’ Lifting the lipstick, she began to paint her mouth.
‘Pearl – think! It’ll break Mammy and Daddy’s heart.’
Checking her mouth in the mirror of her compact, Pearl answered. ‘Personally I don’t think Mammy’s got one. And Daddy doesnae have to know, does he?’
She snapped the powder compact shut and sent Kate a pleading look across the table. For all her air of insouciance, her voice had faltered when she had mentioned their father.
‘What if I write a wee note, Kate? Tell them I’ve gone down south with one of the girls at the shop to work in a hotel or something? Would you give it to them? Please?’
Kate looked at her for a long moment. ‘Is there anything I can do or say that would make you change your mind?’
Pearl shook her head. ‘Not a thing.’
Kate’s shoulders slumped. It was all her fault. She had set her sister a bad example. Robbie was quite right: Pearl was following in her footsteps. Only she was going a lot further down that road. Pearl stood up and came round the table, sliding an arm around her older sister’s shoulders.
‘I was always the wild one, Kate - you know that. It’s no’ your fault that I’ve gone bad.’
‘Och, Pearl!’ Turning, she threw her arms about her sister. Pearl patted her on the shoulder.
‘We’ve had some good laughs together though, haven’t we?’ Kate nodded her head in agreement.
‘And,’ Pearl added softly. ‘Robbie’ll come back to you. I’m sure he will.’
He did come back - but not for long. It was seven o’clock that evening, on the day which was proving to be the longest of Kate’s life. He dropped his bombshell as soon as he came into the house. He had been to the Pool - the Merchant Navy labour exchange up in Glasgow - had just made it before they closed for the day, and he had signed on for a trip aboard the SS Border Reiver, leaving the Clyde in two days’ time for coastal trading on the other side of the Atlantic. Their carpenter had been taken off the ship with acute appendicitis, so Robbie’s arrival couldn’t have come at a better time. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be away - maybe a year.
Open-mouthed, Kate stared at him. A year! He had brought a kitbag home with him and he began now to pack it with various bits and pieces: shirts, socks and underwear; his razor and shaving brush; two or three books. From a little cupboard above the box bed h
e took out a buff-coloured folder which seemed to contain several sheets of paper. Kate had never seen it before, but her attention left it when Robbie came over to where she sat and took an old envelope out of his inside pocket, setting it down on the table in front of her.
‘I’m taking some of the emergency fund but I’ve made an arrangement for you to get money while I’m away.’
He was being very matter-of-fact, but the finger with which he pointed to the scrap of paper he had laid on the table wasn’t quite steady. ‘If you go and see the company I’ve signed on with - that’s the address - they’ll tell you how it works.’
Kate swallowed. ‘I don’t want to take your money.’
He shrugged. ‘Why not? You’ve taken much more from me.’ He turned away from her, and she had to strain to make out the words. ‘My pride for a start ... and my manhood.’
Kate, her elbows on the table and her fingers interlaced with her hair, felt her heart turn over at those quietly uttered words. Was there no way she could get through to him? Tell him how much she loved him? Beg him to forgive her? His packing completed, he was standing staring out of the window again, his back to her. She stood up, her chair scraping on the floor. He turned at the noise, but the expression on his face was anything but welcoming. His features were set in forbidding lines. It was a mask, she knew - knew also how much pain it must be concealing.
Her throat ached. She yearned to open her arms to him, to draw his head down onto her breast. She knew she had forfeited the right to offer him any comfort by her betrayal of him. Yet she must try, all the same. She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye.
‘I-I know you maybe won’t believe this, but I really love you...and I’m so sorry.’
‘Sorry that I found out?’
She was too honest to deny it. She dropped her eyes before the reproach she saw in his.
‘You’ll need money,’ he said a few moments later. ‘I doubt you’ll be working for Marjorie any more. Especially not after I gave her husband a black eye.’
