by Millie Gray
Freda just nodded, because she really did think that Robin was a cut above everybody else in the business.
Without any further consultation with Freda, Robin called out to the signwriter, ‘Right mate, you can get a move on now! The name above the outside door is to be . . . A Cut Above!’
Freda’s romancing about the shop was put to a sudden end by the doctor’s receptionist calling, ‘Miss Scott, Dr Campbell will see you now.’
Half an hour passed before Freda left Dr Campbell’s consulting room. Leaving, it felt to her as though she had entered some sort of unreal world in which she was divorced from reality; she felt stunned and dazed. To be truthful, her emotions were swinging backwards and forwards with such force that she had to quell a desire to scream. If she was being honest, the doctor really had been so good and so patient with her. The information he had given her was very helpful. She would always remember the concerned understanding he showed her, and the time he took to thoroughly examine every bit of her body. He had even taken a look at her mouth, which was, at times, still very painful – he had recommended that she consult a dentist. She would always remember that the doctor finished his consultation with her by taking her hands in his before saying, ‘The morning after you were attacked, you should have come to see me.’
He then went on to quietly but positively outline all the options that were available to her. His final recommendation, which he most earnestly urged her to consider, was a consultation with a psychologist or a counsellor. He thought this might assist Freda in coming to terms with what had happened to her.
Leaving the surgery, Freda decided that walking home was the best thing to do. It would give her time to think. On reaching the roundabout at Sleigh Drive, she decided she needed to speak to someone – someone she could trust. Most girls she knew would have spoken to their mothers, but Ellen was so changed from the mum of Freda’s early years that Freda no longer felt comfortable opening up to her. Freda wasn’t sure exactly when the change had happened, but, if she was being honest, she thought it must have been around the time her dad died. Yes, her mum had lost her way then, and when Drew Black came into her life it seemed as though she couldn’t wait to marry him. Perhaps, thought Freda, Ellen had imagined that life would go back to what it was like before Dad died. It didn’t. Drew was a brute of a man – a bully – and it was after marrying him that her mother became a bingo addict. Yes, bingo soon appeared to be all that she cared about.
The foregoing all being true, Freda decided to go and visit her grandmother Rosie.
She entered the welcoming, safe house on Marionville Crescent through the never-locked door and lightly called out, ‘Granny, it is only me, Freda.’
‘Shhh,’ Rosie whispered, as she emerged from the main bedroom. ‘Grandad has just fallen over.’
‘Hurt himself?’
‘No. He’s just having a wee nap. But . . .’ She trailed off, looking preoccupied for a moment, before smiling at Freda. ‘It’s good to see you. How are you doing?’
They went through to the back living room, which was awash with sunlight. Freda always thought that her grandparents’ bright, welcoming house complimented their personalities perfectly, but today Granny Rosie looked tired and somehow aged.
‘Granny,’ Freda began, ‘are you feeling all right?’
A spot above Freda’s head seemed to catch Rosie’s attention. ‘Freda, I’m glad you came today. You see, I have something to tell you.’
‘What, Granny?’ Freda asked.
Rosie was a small, round, cuddly bundle from a long line of fisher folk – the Listons, in Newhaven – and like her mum and granny before her, she was very careful with her pennies and her family always came first. Observing Granny Rosie, Freda’s concern grew for she knew that her usually cheerful granny’s gloomy expression could only mean one thing: someone in the family was in trouble.
‘Freda, my dear, I was going to say to you, before that awful night . . .’ Granny Rosie hesitated, hunched her shoulders, and sighed. ‘Och, let’s not talk about that, it just upsets me, because you are so precious to Grandad and me . . . Right, now, on to what’s concerning us today . . . Freda, your grandad is very ill.’
‘What? He can’t be! He was the one who ran about getting things sorted out when . . .’ Freda began to pant and shake her head.
‘I know that. And where he got the strength to do what he did and get everything and everybody . . .’ Rosie grimaced, because she was about to spit out what they all had agreed Freda was never to be burdened with: the truth. Sniffing and nodding, she continued, ‘You see, dear, he has lung cancer.’ A sharp intake of breath from Freda had Rosie lift her hand, signalling to Freda that she should let her continue. ‘Lung cancer it is, and it is inoperable.’
‘How long are the doctors giving him?’ Freda blurted, as tears surfaced.
Rosie sought for Freda’s hand and took it in hers. ‘A few months, but with a bit of luck he might hang on a year.’
‘Oh Granny, I just can’t believe it. You and he have always seemed so indestructible, so dependable . . . When my dad died, if I had not had you to hang on to—’ She broke off to ponder. ‘I remember so well that Grandad even took Stuart and me to Lochend Park every Sunday to feed the ducks, just like Daddy used to.’
‘Losing your dad was a bitter blow to us. He was our only child. Yes . . .’ Granny Rosie paused to look about the room. ‘We were only blessed with your dad, but what a blessing he was. And he left us you and Stuart. In time, you bairns made all things bearable.’
‘I know that. You must have been so disappointed when my mum got Drew in tow—’
Raising her hand again, Rosie narrowed her eyes in warning. ‘We all have our faults, Freda. It is true that your mum and I have not always seen eye to eye, but she gave me you and Stuart, my grandchildren, and I will be forever grateful to her for that. Oh yes, the sun shone again through you and Stuart after we lost your dad.’ Rosie pursed her lips. ‘And, therefore, if your mum was ever in need I would do – and have done – whatever it takes to help her.’
Grandad called out from the bedroom and Rosie rose, but before she went to answer his summons, she said, ‘It’s so good to see you today, Freda, but tell me, is there a reason behind your wee visit to us, or are you just stopping by?’
Freda sighed – how could she further burden her granny today? ‘No, Granny, I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘I just wanted to see you and Grandad.’
*
By the time Freda had walked slowly home, pondering on the events of the day, she was feeling very lonely. When she opened the front door, her nostrils were assailed by the smell of macaroni cheese cooking. To her surprise, her mother called out from the kitchen, ‘That you, Freda, love? Made your favourite tea, I have.’
Before Freda answered, she considered how her mother had changed in the last few weeks. For one thing, she had given up playing bingo – even if there was a big jackpot. She was nearly back to the mum she had been when Freda’s father was alive. Back to smiling, singing, cooking and making sure that the home was as welcoming as it could be for her family. Dear Susan was positively blossoming with all the attention she was receiving! It was as if Drew’s leaving had had a beneficial effect on Ellen.
‘You are never going to believe this pet but—’
‘Please, Mum, don’t tell me you went to an afternoon bingo session and won?’
‘No,’ Ellen replied with a chuckle, ‘even better than that! Oh Freda, you know I have the two wee cleaning jobs, but they just keep things ticking over now that I haven’t got a man’s wage coming in?’
Freda nodded.
‘Well,’ Ellen continued, ‘I realised that I just had to get myself a full-time job. And your granny said I was not to worry about Susan coming home to an empty house, because she could keep an eye on her until I was free to pick her up. Oh Freda, I know it was cheeky of me but I wanted to go up in the world, just like you and Robin are, so I applied to Marks & Spencer. Now, be honest Freda,
you wouldn’t want people to talk about how there’s you with your posh hairdressers, and then me, your mum, putting the walnuts on top of the chocolate whips in Duncan’s factory!’
Freda began to wonder if she was dreaming. ‘Mum . . . ’ she faltered, ‘I’m a bit lost . . . What is it that you are trying to tell me?’
Jumping up and down and clapping her hands, Ellen spluttered, ‘I got a job at Marks & Spencer! Me! They actually offered me a job. I mean, getting a job with them is . . . Well, they only take on the crème de la crème, so they do.’
‘That right?’
‘Yes. And don’t you take offence, but they have hairdressers who come in to do your hair, and one of these chiro-something people that come to cut your toenails . . . and they have a free staff canteen!’
‘You have to be joking?’
‘No, I’m not. There is also a staff shop, where you can buy food that’s not been sold on the day, at giveaway prices!’
Ellen appeared so excited and happy. But was she? Surely her brave face and excessive joviality was all pretence? Ellen had not been demonstrative towards Freda and Susan in the last few years, so why was she trying to appear so motherly, so in control . . . so happy? Drew Black, in Freda’s estimation, was a monster, but he was also her mother’s husband and he had been banished from everybody’s life, including Ellen’s. Not only that, he had been banished by Ellen’s former father-in-law, Grandad Jack, and her own son, Stuart. Surely that was painful for her? To add to that, could any mother feel so elated such a short time after the violation of her innocent daughter? Freda decided that she was too tired to ask her mum any questions today. It was a pity, because when she had arrived home she had hoped that she might be able to speak to her mum about what was bothering her . . .
Reluctantly, Freda concluded that there was no way she could talk to Ellen about anything today – especially her main worry – so, smiling, she replied, ‘Mum, that’s just wonderful. You will make new friends at Marks & Spencer and move forward. Now, how about you dish up your speciality? A nice plateful of macaroni cheese and all the lovely old memories it will awaken is just what I need right now.’
Advancing into the kitchen to dish up the meal, Ellen bit hard on her lip and dared her tears to fall.
*
Sleepless nights always end with morning coming too soon. That night, when Freda was finally exhausted from tossing and turning and trying to work out what she should do, the alarm clock started to ring.
On arrival at the shop, she was glad to discover that she was the first there. Opening up the back window to allow fresh air in and the fumes of paint and disinfectant out, she sighed. Everything, she thought, had been going so well, but now . . .
The familiar whistling of a cheery tune put an end to her contemplations. ‘Well, if you’re not an early bird,’ Robin sang, before grabbing Freda and dancing her around the room.
When he eventually let her go, she tottered away from him and sank slowly to the floor in a sort of faint.
‘Freda, Freda!’ he exclaimed, beginning to massage her hands. ‘What on earth is wrong? Have I hurt you?’
Head still reeling, Freda struggled to sit up. Robin, meanwhile, decided to sit down beside her. ‘What is it, Freda? What’s up?’
Freda’s hysterical wailing had Robin take her into his arms.
‘Robin, oh Robin, do you know what my stepfather did to me?’
‘Shhh, my love. Yes, I do know what the pig did, but you have to try and put it behind you.’
‘I can’t!’ Freda cried. ‘You see, I’m . . . Robin, I’m . . . I’m pregnant!’
An eerie silence overtook the room. Eventually, Freda whispered, ‘Under the circumstances, the doctor says he can help me. Provided I make up my mind to ask before the . . . whatever-it-is is under eighteen weeks of maturity, I can have an abortion.’
‘That could be the answer,’ Robin mused.
‘Just now it wouldn’t be,’ Freda retorted. ‘Oh Robin, Grandad is dying, so there is no way right now that I could face killing off a life that is just starting.’
‘But if you don’t . . . will you be able to live with the embarrassment?’
‘I could. But could my mother and my granny? Robin, what shall I do?’
‘Right now? Get up off the floor and let me give you a hairdo. That will have a double benefit – it will cheer you up but also allow me to make sure that all our equipment is up and running for opening day. Then I think you should call it a day. Go home and have a good rest. Believe me, the answer to your dilemma will be easier for you to come to when you are not exhausted.’
‘But we are so near our opening . . .’
‘We are, but I will work on today, and tomorrow is a new day, so we will both get in here by eight o’clock and work our backsides off.’
*
Lunchtime saw Freda sauntering into London Road Gardens. As a bus passed by, she looked up, and there, waiting to alight, was Angela. On seeing Freda, she waved wildly. When she got off the bus, she rushed over to Freda, and both of them grabbed at each other, excitedly talking over one another.
‘Enough!’ Angela shouted. ‘Yes, we have not seen each other for ages, but let’s calm down.’ She looked about, before continuing, ‘See, there – behind us is a bench. Let’s flop down on it and catch up.’
Meekly, Freda did as Angela bid, but, to be truthful, with her mind in such turmoil, Angela was the last person she wished to spend time with.
Once seated, Angela turned to Freda. ‘Ewan was saying that he met up with Robin for a pint, and Robin said all is going well with your hairdressing venture. However, when Ewan told me the prices that Robin thinks people will pay to have their hair styled by him, I thought he was being a bit ambitious. Hope an old school pal like me will get a good discount!’
Freda smiled. ‘And how is your training at Moray House going?’
‘Good. I’ve had my first taste of getting hands-on in the classroom because I am now able to shadow teachers. You won’t believe me but my first work experience was at Leith Academy Primary, so when the day was finished I decided, as I was in the vicinity of Lochend Road, that I should go and visit Ewan’s mother. She was so glad to see me, because Ewan is just so busy with his studies that she doesn’t see him as often as she would like.’
Angela babbled on, unaware that Freda wasn’t listening to her. Freda’s thoughts were back to her pipe dream of being with Ewan, which was far-fetched and could never come to fruition, especially now . . . No, Freda conceded to herself, a snowball being tossed into hell’s fires would have a better chance than her winning Ewan’s heart now.
*
When Freda arrived at the shop the next morning, Robin was already there, dressed in paint-spattered dungarees and whistling. ‘Hey, Freda,’ he called, ‘I’ve been thinking. It’s amazing what you can do with a little help from your friends . . .’
‘That right?’ commented Freda, taking her coat off and hanging it up.
‘Sure is. Freda, come and sit yourself down whilst I tell you what I think we should do.’
‘Well, I don’t know about you, but after an hour of having my ears bent by Angela yesterday afternoon, I’m now considering suicide.’
‘You’ll forget that when I tell you that I have the solution to your problem.’
Chuckling, Freda stuttered, ‘What, other than jumping off the Scott Monument?’
‘Yes. It is all so simple. You and I are partners, so why not go the full hog . . . Let’s get married!’
Choking laughter overtook Freda. ‘Robin, my dear friend, being partners in a business is one thing. Marriage is for two people who love each other . . . Yes, we are good pals . . . Best pals . . . But . . .’
‘We are all that from nursery school days,’ Robin butted in, ‘and that is why I think – no, I know – that it would work.’
‘Robin, you are romantically in love with Billy, and I am in love with—’
‘You are in love with someone? I didn’t kno
w that. Who?’
No way did Freda wish to tell Robin that she fantasied about Ewan, so, gulping in an attempt to come up with an answer, she hurriedly replied, ‘Paul Newman. Honestly, whenever I look at him I think I become the cat on the hot tin roof!’
‘Look, don’t reach your decision about marrying me right now. Ponder it until early afternoon and I’ll do the same. Then, when we stop for a cuppa we can talk again. And Freda? Stop thinking about what happened yesterday and stop worrying about tomorrow – it will take care of itself. It’s the here and now that you should focus on.’ He stopped to take her hand in his. ‘All I’m offering is to look after you, with no strings attached, just like your father would have done . . . And not only will I look after you, I’ll also take care of the baby.’
*
The tea had just been poured when Freda took a deep breath. She needed it, because she was going to say to Robin, ‘Thanks for your kind offer, but no thanks.’
‘Robin,’ she began, ‘I appreciate what you have offered to do for me, but—’ She got no further, because the door opened.
‘Yoohoo! It’s only me,’ Hannah called out, ‘and I see I am just in time for a bite and a cuppa.’
‘You are!’ enthused Freda. ‘Now, what brings you here today? It’s your lunch hour, isn’t it?’
Hannah nodded and hunched her shoulders, before saying, ‘It is, but I needed to see you, Freda.’ She glared pointedly at Robin.
‘It’s okay, Hannah,’ Robin said, as he got up and vacated his seat for her. ‘I can eat my sandwich in the back room.’
Hannah grinned. Once Robin was out of earshot, she sat down and leaned in towards Freda. ‘I’ve just come to ask you what you think.’
‘About what?’
‘Freda, do you remember that I told you about the nice fellow who was buying me wee French fancies?’
