by Millie Gray
Still staying silent, Anna thought that the Wee Free Church was so dull and austere that nothing, including the flu virus, would venture in there.
“Anyway,” Jack lamented, “like she wanted, I took her back home and buried her there. Lovely service it was. You should have heard the mouth music.”
A deep sigh escaped Jack before he pulled his chair closer to Anna. “Now,” he said, taking Anna’s hand in his, “sad as it was to lose my mother, who said the only thing she had against you was you not being one of us, I have to be consoled by the fact it leaves me free to ask you to marry me.”
Still there was no response from Anna but the look of horror on her face spoke volumes – as did the pulling of her hand from his.
“Oh,” Jack went on, picking up his bag from the floor and pulling a package from it. “Nearly forgot. This here is a haunch of venison,” he said as he laid his courting inducement in front of her. “Slaughtered a stag, they did, for my mother’s farewell tea and I asked for them to put a rear end by for me to bring down. And who else would I be giving it to but my … wife to be?”
Still choosing to ignore Anna’s indifference, Jack bent towards her and began patting her left hand, which was stroking her chin. “Know it has all been such a big surprise to you, but you’ll get used to it,” he coaxed. “And don’t forget forbye you landing me there’s a three-roomed flat with kitchen and bathroom, and electricity just about to be put in at 103 Easter Road and that’s in addition to my regular policeman’s pay every week.” With a nod and a wink Jack stopped to emphasise the advantages. “And,” he added with a smile, “I’ll be quite generous with your housekeeping. Mind you, you’ll need to give up the Salvation Army and come back and worship with me at my church.”
“That right?” Anna slowly responded whilst looking up at the broken gas mantle. “Well, know something, Jack. I like biding here at 18 Couper Street with my two laddies and two lassies and all my pals. And know something else? I would rather have this,” and she now pointed to the five oatmeal-coated herring, “for our tea, a broken mantle and bang a tambourine than the luxury you’re offering!”
Jack’s mouth gaped. He was obviously in a state of shock and could only stutter, “Perhaps my dear departed mother was right in saying that …” he paused, sniffed and snorted before continuing, “I should have given Shona Nicholson all the attention I’ve lavished on you.”
“Shona Nicholson?” gasped Anna before raucous laughter overtook her. “Now when did I ever think I’d agree with your mother? Oh yes, my dear Jack,” she added, going over and patting him vigorously on both cheeks, “what you justly deserve is to be sentenced for the rest of your life – to your mother reincarnated in the form of Shona Nicholson!”
Without another word Jack stood up, pushed past Anna, grabbed his bag and headed for the door. It had just banged shut when he flung it open again but Anna well knew why he’d so hastily come back, so before he could ask for the return of the venison, the haunch hit him squarely in the chest.
No one had told the audacious influenza virus that it was to remain in the towns and cities, so when it invaded Melrose and the surrounding countryside everyone was caught ill-prepared. Sir Charles was the first in the house to fall ill, then one by one members of his personal staff. Before long only Eugenie was left. Eugenie had worked tirelessly to nurse her father through the worst of the illness but the old gentleman was too frail. He had only been laid to rest in the family crypt when Eugenie announced she was going back to Moray Place.
However, they had just arrived back in Edinburgh when Eugenie herself became ill with a chest infection. In addition to a doctor calling in daily Rachel tried all the remedies she’d seen her aunt use. Plenty of water to drink. Tepid washes. Camphor chest rubs and steam inhalations. Eventually Eugenie did recover but she was very weak.
Taking her doctor’s advice, Eugenie arranged to go to Switzerland to recuperate. Before leaving she sent for Rachel who was surprised when Eugenie said, “Rachel, my dear, you won’t be accompanying me to Switzerland. You see I am so incapacitated now I require the services of a trained nurse companion.”
Rachel’s face fired and she bowed her head to hide her disappointment.
“Now, now,” Eugenie continued. “Please accept that my decision is no reflection on you. Believe me when I say I’ve so enjoyed the time we’ve spent together that I’m going to furnish you with a year’s wages. Now,” she stopped to take a slow breath. “The money is meant to keep you until you find suitable employment. And I mean suitable. Please do not become fodder for the factories of Leith.”
The smell of crisp fried herring not only wafted through Anna’s house but also drifted into the passageway.
“See when you’ve worked yer guts oot aw day in the docks it’s just great to come home and get your bones thawed at the fire and your belly filled. And,” Robert added through a packed mouth, “I just love boiled tatties and fried herring.”
“I’m glad about that,” responded Anna while serving up Freddie’s tea and putting it in the fireside oven to keep warm. “And here was me feeling guilty about passing up a roast venison dinner for you.”
Robert stopped eating to look quizzically at Anna. “Naw. Too rich, venison is. Mind you, I do long for Hogmanay – the only time we might be lucky enough to have the dosh to buy a nice steak pie swimming in plenty of that ‘Ah! Bisto’ gravy,” enthused Robert before loudly sniffing the imaginary aroma of that beef delicacy.
He barely stopped his daydream when Freddie walked in. “Do you know? I smelled what was for the tea down at the dock gate. And look who chased me up the stair.”
“Rachel!” Anna and Robert shouted in unison.
“Hope there’s some tea for me,” remarked Rachel as Freddie laid down her two suitcases.
Eyeing the luggage, Anna asked, “Looks like you’re gonnae be staying a while?”
“How about for good?”
“Been sacked, have ye?” queried Robert, as he got stuck into his second fish.
“No,” replied Rachel, turning to face Anna. “Auntie,” she continued, “Firstly Sir Charles is dead …”
“So Eugenie’s back,” responded Anna with delight. “But she must be devastated at the loss of her dad. Nice man, he was – and they were so close. I’ll go and see her first thing tomorrow.”
“Sit down, Auntie,” coaxed Rachel.
Obediently Anna sank down on the fender stool and Rachel joined her there before saying, “Eugenie’s been very ill too and she’s now gone to be nursed in Switzerland for at least six months. It’s the only hope she has.”
No one spoke. They all knew Anna’s relationship with Eugenie was a special one. It had been forged when they’d met on the suffragette marches. Eugenie had never visited Couper Street but they had kept in touch over the years by meeting occasionally for afternoon tea at Moray Place.
“Auntie, I’m sorry to bother you,” Freddie whispered, “but I’m meeting Violet. We’re going to the last showing at the Palace Picture House, so can I get my tea?”
Anna nodded and fetched the plate out of the oven.
“Still going with Violet? Must be serious,” teased Rachel.
Freddie humped and hawed before admitting, “We’ve got plans. Saving up we are.”
“Aye. But still happy to squander a bob or two at the pictures.”
“Look, Robert, I’m only going because Violet is desperate to see Mary Pickford in Poor Little Rich Girl.”
“Would you no be better to wait another two weeks and then take her to see that John Barrymore playing Dr Jekyll …” Robert was now pulling gruesome faces and throwing his hands about, “… and Mr Hyde? Real horror film, that is.”
“And why should I take Violet to see a picture like that?”
“Because she’ll be so scared she’ll jump up on your lap and then …”
“That’s quite enough out of you, Robert,” snorted his aunt, giving him one of her famous warning glares.
“Och
well, Auntie, see the way Freddie, Johnny and Bud all drool? Makes me want to boak.”
“Here, Robert, what’s Johnny and Bud got to do with Violet and the pictures?” demanded Rachel, prodding him in the shoulder.
“Just that when you’re here,” continued Robert, dodging away from Rachel, “Johnny and Bud run around you like lovesick parrots.”
“But Johnny isn’t here. He’s in India and won’t be home for another year. And as for Bud, he’s so in love with himself he’s not able to court anyone else,” mocked Rachel, giving Robert another poke in the shoulder.
Running footsteps stopped at the door and Robert quipped, “And talking of the late Bud, that’ll be him now.”
It was Bud and he was breathless and even more so when he saw Rachel.
“We need to get a move on, Bud,” urged Robert.
“Aye. Aye,” replied Bud. “But surely I’ve time for a wee word with Rachel. After all, it’s nearly three months since she was home.”
Quickly Rachel recounted to Bud why she was now home. “So you see,” she announced, “now that I’m unemployed I’ve got to get myself a career.”
Freddie burst out laughing. “Oh dear, here’s another one that’s lost it. But tell me, what’s wrong with just finding a job?”
“Nothing. But if you think I’d be happy bottling whisky in the bonds, packing biscuits in Crawford’s or putting walnuts on top of the walnut whips in Duncan’s – you’re quite mistaken.”
“Good for you,” Bud encouraged. “So what would you like to do?”
“Write a few letters to the big stores up town and try to get into their ladies fashion departments.”
“Oh. Oh. Oh!” mocked Freddie.
* * *
Three long weeks passed. Rachel had written to a dozen top-class stores and ten had replied by return of post, stating that there were no vacancies in their shops. She knew this was a lie and that she must be doing something wrong.
On rehearsal night Bud asked if she’d been successful in finding work. She explained just how difficult it was before adding, “I can’t even get an interview.”
Pondering earnestly for a minute, Bud ventured to suggest, “It’s not your experience or your references that are the problem. They’re all first class. But,” he hesitated and looked directly at Anna, “I think it’s your address!”
Anna stopped her treadle before demanding, “And what’s wrong with 18 Couper Street?”
Swallowing hard and shrugging Bud muttered slowly, “Nothing. That is, if you want to work in the factories around here. But look, the likes of Jenners and Greensmith Downes are looking for ‘ladies’ to promote their image. And they have a mistaken idea these ‘ladies’ won’t be found in …” Hesitating, he tried to find words more acceptable than, “A slum like Couper Street”. Eventually he managed to mumble, “The port of Leith.”
“See,” snarled Anna, wagging her finger. “That’s exactly what I prophesied about this unholy amalgamation. The snobs in Edinburgh think we’re all like the working girls that frequent places like that notorious Standard Bar on Parliament Square. Forever creating bloody havoc, they whores do. Especially when they’re that full of Red Biddy that they cannae even stand.” She stopped, took a deep breath then exhaled with a grunt. “And if they Edinburgh business folk know what’s good for them, in no way should they class my Rachel along with them.”
Bud ignored Anna’s outburst. “Look, Rachel,” he advised, “next time you write a letter, head it up with my address. And, believe me, you’ll get the right reply.”
“No need for that. Our Bella has a better address than you have and Rachel will use that,” countered Anna.
When Rachel arrived at Bella’s house in Lochend Road, Bella, her chosen sister, was delighted to see her.
“I was expecting you,” crooned Bella.
“You were?”
“Yeah, your mother told me to expect you today. She also suggested I get in a couple of chuck-out cakes from the store bakery.”
Rachel was not at all surprised by Bella’s claim that she had been speaking to her long-dead mother. Anna had told her that Bella had been driven mad by Sandy forever demanding to know when he would get his forty pounds back. In desperation Bella had gone to a spiritualist meeting to see if the lady medium knew where Gus was and when he would be likely to come home. The clairvoyant, like the shipping agent who Bella badgered on a weekly basis, had no news about Gus, except to say he would eventually turn up somewhere alive or dead. This statement had left poor Bella quite despondent until the medium said she felt convinced that Bella was one of the few people who had the gift of being able to talk with the deceased and that she should cultivate the talent. Anna had given a sly wink to Rachel when she concluded, “And ever since, on a daily basis, our Bella communes with the dead. And that’s fine by me because she really doesn’t have the gift of being understood by the living.”
Not wishing to upset Bella by being sceptical about her powers, Rachel began, “And did my mother tell you why I would be coming?”
“Of course she did. And there’s enough hot water for you to wash your hair and have a bath. Hope you brought your own soap and towel.”
Before Rachel could respond to this bizarre question Bluebell toddled over to her. Picking the child up, she smiled. “But my, are you not a bonnie bairn? And Bluebell suits you because your eyes are as blue as they are.”
“Aye, Gus is missing the best of her. She’s long gone one and I’m wondering if he’ll put in an appearance before she’s two.”
Looking about the room Rachel asked, “And where’s Nat?”
“Feeding the ducks in Lochend Park with Mrs Grant, he is. You know the auld busybody that bides next door.”
After thirty minutes had agonisingly passed Rachel began to wonder if she was ever going to get Bella told the real reason why she’d come. It was annoying her that Bella was forever turning to speak to those in the spirit world and passing on messages to her from deceased relatives she didn’t know. When she could take it no longer Rachel suddenly screamed, “For goodness sake. Bella, will you shut up and listen to me? I’m here because I need your address so I can get a good job in one of the department stores up town.”
“Edinburgh! And what’s wrong with Leith?” replied a miffed Bella. “Don’t you realise … the only way we can survive this enforced amalgamation with pride is for us to stay loyal to Leith!”
“But Bella, can you see me working in a factory?”
Scratching her head while looking Rachel over, Bella began to wonder if sending her to Eugenie who, like Anna, saw her as the refined daughter she’d never had, had been a good thing? No way could Rachel survive in the Roperie where a number of lassies smoked pipes, snuffed and whose idea of enjoying themselves was to get blotto on Red Biddy in any jug bar that would serve them.
Time ticked slowly by before Bella said, “Not in the factories … but how about trying to get into our braw new Leith Provident Department Store? As good as any in Princes Street, it is. And that’s on any day of the week.”
Rachel pondered. Why hadn’t she thought of writing there? “Look, Bella, thanks for that. I’ll write to them tomorrow but to be on the safe side, could I use your address?”
“Aye, on the condition you do some watching of Nat and Bluebell which would let me go back to do nights in Sandy’s funeral parlour.”
Since Rachel had left for Bella’s, the pendulum wall clock had been checked every fifteen minutes by Anna. After an hour not only did she look up at the clock, she also craned her neck to look out from the kitchen window. “What’s keeping her?” she asked herself over and over. Bella had been strange of late but she was a good lassie. And for sure weren’t Rachel and she like sisters? Hadn’t she reared them that way? So no matter what Rachel asked, Bella would do it. But why wasn’t Rachel back home to tell her all was fine?
Rising again to peer from the window she was surprised when the draught from the front door being opened hit her back. T
urning quickly and skipping over the floor, “Rachel,” she crooned hopefully, but instead she was faced with her guid sister Rosie. Her delight was quickly extinguished.
“Don’t say you’re pleased to see me.”
Recovering, Anna patted Rosie on the shoulder. “Of course I’m pleased to see you. Whenever am I not?” Anna peered behind Rosie. “But where’s Davy? You never come without him.”
Rosie didn’t reply but she took a seat at the kitchen table. Anna, perplexed, sat down opposite her. “What’s wrong?” Anna asked, leaning over to grasp Rosie’s hands that were drumming ceaselessly on the table.
Swallowing hard Rosie replied, “Anna, you know I’m not a gossip.”
Anna nodded. “Is there a problem with our ain folk?” she asked. Rosie shook her head.
“Well if you’ve come to tell me that there’s something seriously going on between Freddie and Violet – I’ve already guessed.”
“There is a problem – but not with your Freddie and Violet that I know of,” emphasised Rosie, shifting in her chair.
Anna quickly realised how uncomfortable Rosie was but she said nothing.
Suddenly Rosie spluttered, “You do ken Mona’s …”
“Dead. I know. I laid her out and boxed her.”
“Naw. Naw. Listen. What I trying to say is Mona’s sister Gladys – well she’s chapel, like me.”
“Aye, she turned when she married her man.”
“Oh, Anna, just listen and hold yer wheesht till I tell ye.” Anna nodded. “When we were coming out o’ benediction last night she took me aside and told me – and I swore I wouldn’t tell anybody else but I feel I have to …” Rosie now crossed herself and appeared reluctant to go on.
