Fortunes of the Heart

by Jenny Telfer Chaplin

  Chapter 12

  Over the next few weeks calm reigned in the Kinnon house. Daniel’s name was mentioned only once, when Jenny asked where he was, fortunately out of Pearce’s hearing. Mrs Delaney made no mention of the book of poetry she had bought, or of seeing Kate at the book barrow.

  Kate dropped in to the newsagent’s shop from time to time to chat to Daniel and on one occasion Mr McGregor made a point of sending Daniel out on an errand.

  “I don’t want to interfere, Mrs Kinnon, but Daniel knows I know some of the sailors that ship out of here and that I could probably get him a place as a ship’s boy ...”

  “Has he asked you to get him a ship?”

  “Well ... not in so many words ... yet ... but I don’t think it will be long before he leaves us. He wants some adventure – more than running a wee newsagent’s–and he wants to earn some more money.”

  “Then he’d be better placed by someone you know than chancing his luck by himself, wouldn’t he?”

  “I hope so. Then, if he asks, I should talk to my friends?”

  Kate sat silent, thinking for a spell.

  “If he’s as close to just going as you think, Mr McGregor, maybe you should broach the subject yourself. I’ll be sad to see him go, but I think there’s no stopping him now.”

  Two weeks later Kate was not surprised when Daniel told her he would be shipping out as a ship’s boy the next day.

  “But if your ship’s registered here, you’ll be back from time to time, right?”

  “No, Mammy, the company sails out of Liverpool. The ship only called in here with cargo of tobacco. It’s not her regular run. Their ship’s boy broke his leg. That’s why they’ve got a spot for me.”

  Pearce shrugged when told the news, then after a long silence told Kate and Jenny to sit down.

  “With Daniel gone, one source of income for the family is gone – “

  “Pearce, he didn’t bring in very much,” Kate objected, fearing what was coming.

  “Never the less,” Pearce continued, ignoring Kate, “it means less income. Jenny will leave school and seek employment at the mill. They’re always looking for girls there.”

  “But, Dadda, you said I could stay at school and maybe become a teacher,” Jenny said.

  “I’ve changed my mind, and there’s an end to it. It’s foolish to give a girl an education. Years without income to the family and then they’re off to get married.”

  Despite Jenny’s tears and Kate pleadings, Pearce’s mind was made up and he would not be moved.

  So Jenny, at fourteen, much against her will, left school and went to work at the local mill. Kate came to an arrangement with Mr McGregor to take over some of Daniel’s jobs in the newsagents, dropping her stair cleaning activities, but keeping her job with Mrs Scott. It wasn’t quite as convenient to Mr McGregor since Kate’s times had to be fitted round feeding Mrs Delaney and Pearce, and her mornings with Mrs Scott.

  Relative peace, if not harmony, returned to the Kinnon household. Jenny bitterly resented having to leave school, but when Pearce suggested to her it was Daniel’s fault for having run away, she vigorously defended Daniel, saying he wouldn’t have needed to leave home if he’d been better treated there.

  Chapter 13

  Almost two years after Daniel left home, sixteen-year-old Jenny still detested her job at the mill and at home was barely polite to her father, avoiding him whenever she could. A works outing was announced and Jenny was reluctant to go, saying she saw enough of the girls at the mill on a daily basis and had no desire to spend her free time with them. However, Kate persuaded her to go, pointing out there would be all sorts of other employees there from different parts of the mill and other shifts.

  About a month or so later, when the Works Day Outing was but a memory, young Jenny seemed happier than she’d ever been in her life before. She went around the house singing, even offered to do the odd household chore like cleaning the brasses on a Friday night without even once being asked to do so, and strangest thing of all, she went off to the mill each morning not just with stars in her eyes, but even earlier than she needed do. In fact, there was such a dramatic change in her that one morning over breakfast Kate felt compelled to remark on it.

  “Jenny, lass, I’ve been meaning to say, it’s so good to see you happy these days. Does that mean you’ve finally accepted your lot in life? Or is there some other reason? Are you in love or something? Is that it?”

  Jenny coloured then, bending her head over her plate, she became intent on breaking pieces of bread into tiny pellets which she pushed to the rim. Obviously, Jenny was loathe to pursue the subject, but Kate persisted.

  “You don’t need to tell me, Jenny. I can see it from your face, lass. You’ve got a lad, haven’t you?”

  When there was still no reply and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and Pearce’s intermittent snores from the haven of the wall bed, Kate took a deep breath and, determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, decided on one more try.

  “Well now, Jenny, it’s really nothing to be embarrassed about. After all, let’s face it; you’re growing into a real bonnie young lass. It would more surprise me if the fellows hereabouts were not flocking round you. So, tell me, dear, did you meet somebody special at the Day Outing, is that it, eh?”

  Jenny, having now transferred her attention from the bread pellets to her bowl of porridge, pushed the already congealing mess around with the edge of her spoon and, keeping her eyes down, still made no reply. Kate sat down to join her with a welcome cup of tea and after idly stirring in a spoonful of Nestle’s milk which did double duty both as sweetener and milk, she cleared her throat.

  “Come on, Jenny, lass. You can tell your Mammy. To tell you the truth, there’s nothing I’d like better than to see you fixed up with some decent young chap, married and settled into a cosy wee single-end of your own. That’s my great ambition for you, darling. If nothing else, it would get you safely out of this existence we have here; what with the problems we have with Hannah, not to mention your Dadda, and his black moods and terrible rages.”

  This last comment was made in a whisper, accompanied by an anxious glance over at the huddled figure beneath the patchwork quilt.

  “Mind you, dear, I’m not meaning any disrespect in talking about your Dadda like that ... we all know it’s just his illness ... and poor Hannah can’t help being the way she is. But the point is, that’s my cross to bear. That’s not to say that you have to suffer it along with me, dear. You’re young, you’re a lovely looking fresh faced young lady. So I suppose what I’m really trying to say is ...”

  Jenny opened her mouth and pushed back a stray lock of hair.

  “It’s all right, Mammy, I think I get the message. I know what you’re trying to say. And believe me, I’m grateful to you for confiding in me like this. I know you’d like fine to see me married and settled in a wee place before I’m too old and maybe left on the shelf. Is that it, you don’t want to be lumbered with an old maid, eh?”

  Kate reached across and laid a hand gently on her daughter’s arm.

  “You an old maid? I don’t really think there’s much danger of that. And mind you, you’re young enough yet in all conscience. But the thing is; if you’re starting to be interested in boys, going about with them and all that, well, I thought we’d better just have a wee chat about it. You see, dear, there’s two kinds of men, those that are willing to enter the married state and those ... er ... those that are dead keen to enter the marriage bed but without going through the formalities ... if you get my meaning.

  Jenny blushed to the roots of her hair and made as if to get up from the table, but her mother’s hand detained her.

  “No, listen to me, darling, for I know what I’m talking about. And let’s face it, how often do we get a chance of a real heart to heart talk? But for once, with Hannah and your Dadda both sleeping and ...

  “Yes, indeed, Jenny. Marriage to a good man. It would be the making of you
, girl. But I’ve been going all round the house this past ten minutes in trying to spell it out for you. you must remember to keep yourself and your body pure. Till your wedding night, give nothing away, nothing, until you’ve got that gold wedding ring on your finger. Do you understand, darling?”

  Jenny finally raised her head, with a face the colour of boiled beetroot.

  “Ach, for goodness sake, Mammy. I’ve only just met the lad. The way you’re going on anybody would think that I was engaged or something.”

  Delighted to have her suspicions confirmed that there was indeed someone on the romantic horizon, Kate, determined to ignore the rebuff, pressed on with her speiring for news.

  Smiling happily, she leant back in her chair.

  “Oho, so I was right. There is a young man. Yes, I knew it. But what did you say his name was?”

  Jenny smiled.

  “Mammy, you’re the absolute limit, do you know that? Talk about fishing for titbits of news. You’re even better at it than old Nosey Parker Gordon in the next close. Anyway, as you very well know, I did NOT mention what his name was.”

  Kate took a leisurely sip of her tea.

  “No, but you are going to tell me, aren’t you, dear? And before you go out that door to the mill. Right?”

  “Mammy, you wouldn’t keep me late for my work? That new gaffer is the limit. Two minutes late and he docks your pay.”

  Kate sat silently until at last Jenny blurted out: “Well, if you must know, his name is Ross. There now, will that satisfy you?”

  Jenny at once got to her feet and taking her heavy cardigan and her outdoor coat from the peg, behind the door, she made as if to leave. She was already halfway out of the door when her mother, with a worried frown on her face, stretched a detaining hand out to Jenny.

  “Here, Jenny, just wait one minute, my girl. There’s only one man I know round about here who’s called Ross. It’s not all that common a name, you must admit. Round here, it’s nearly all Patrick, Terry, Jimmy, or Jock. Like I say, the only Ross I have even heard of in this district is that layabout Ross Cuthbert. Lives in that stinking slum just round the corner. Not that I’d hold that against him, you understand, but local gossip has it that he’s not just lazy, bone idle in fact, but he’s a drunkard, a womaniser ... and God alone knows where he gets the money for that style of living, and even worse, he’s ...”

  Jenny, her face puce now, which in itself was reply and confirmation enough for her mother, pushed away Kate’s hand.

  Then, with the light of battle in her eyes, she yelled: “Yes, Mammy, it is Ross Cuthbert I’ve been seeing. But he’s nothing like what you say. He’s a lovely fellow, not a drunkard, not a womaniser and as to the thing you were about to mention ... something even worse, I just cannot imagine what you mean.

  Kate, furious, with an admonitory finger, spelled out for Jenny exactly what she meant.

  “Womaniser I said, and womaniser I damn well meant, my girl. Even worse, he’s not even a decent church or chapel going man. And he’s years older than you.”

  Jenny opened her mouth to speak but her mother had not yet finished.

  “I doubt that it would be marriage of any kind which that scum would want. No, he’d be after just taking what he could get, what was on offer, like. Then, true to form of his kind, he’d run off like a yellow coward, leaving you with a full belly and a lifetime of disgrace before you. Take it from me, marriage is not for the likes of him. That’s the very last thing he’d want. Oh, yes, happy enough to accept and enjoy to the full the pleasures of marriage, all the home comforts of wedded bliss. But without the formality of a wedding.”

  There was a wild look in Jenny’s eyes.

  “Well, Mammy, I don’t know where you get your information from, but I’m happy to tell you that you’re dead right on at least two counts: he doesn’t attend any church or chapel, because he doesn’t believe in any god, and yes, the women flock round him. If that makes him a womaniser, then you’re right there as well.”

  Kate took a step back from the fury which she could not only hear but also see in her daughter’s face. Then she held her splayed hands out towards Jenny as if in this way she could somehow stem the flow of bitter, angry words. But it was not to be, for without even pausing for breath, Jenny continued.

  “What you may not yet realise, not only is he a very handsome lad, a real dark-haired charmer, but ... yes ... I will say it, I love him.”

  Kate drew back in shock then rallied.

  “Oh no, Jenny, you don’t mean it. You can’t mean it. You could never be happy with a wastrel like that. Apart from anything else, there is just no way that I could stand aside and see you, a good, well brought up Christian girl, throw yourself away on a heathen the likes of him. Don’t do it, I beg you, please don’t do it.”

  Jenny looked her mother up and down.

  “You’re a fine one to talk, Mammy. He’s years older than me, you say? Dadda’s twenty-two years older than you – and he was when you were wed. You don’t go to mass at Dadda’s High Anglican church or attend any other church I know of. Anyway, who said anything about marriage? Nobody but yourself even mentioned the word marriage. Your gossips should keep up to date with the news. Ross is married already. He had to get married – a shotgun wedding, isn’t that what they call it? Big Aggie’s father would have killed my poor dear Ross if he hadn’t married Aggie to give her bairn a name. But he doesn’t love Aggie, he loves me.”

  “And Aggie’s bairn was an example of immaculate conception?”

  Kate wept as she watched her daughter secure the Tam O’Shanter on her head, give a last tweek to her long knitted scarf, and make for the hallway. In the background, Kate was dimly aware that over in the wall-bed, Pearce was stirring and cursing as he slowly opened his eyes to the rude awakening. Hannah too was making the odd grunting noises which usually presaged a temper tantrum.

  Ignoring both her mother’s bitter weeping and the extraneous noises from the two beds, Jenny turned on her heel to give her parting shot.

  “Right, then, that’s me. I’m off for another fun day of bloody hard work at the mill. But there’s just one thing I’ve decided; there must be more to life than this constant misery. Danny made it away and good luck to him. So if ever Ross Cuthbert asks me to run away with him, I’ll not need to be asked twice. I’ll be off like a bloody shot and as fast as I can and as far away as I can get, to put as many miles as possible between me and this ... this fucking ménage, with daft Hannah and her fits, screams, and tantrums. And I’ll tell you this, Mammy, I would elope with the very Devil himself if I thought he could get me far away from that old bugger ... that bad-tempered old bugger of a father.”

  As the door crashed behind her fleeing daughter with a force that seemed to shake the very foundations, Kate looked round, as one in the grip of a nightmare from which there could be no possible awakening.

  Chapter 14

  In the weeks which followed the row between Jenny and her mother on the subject of Ross Cuthbert, to Kate’s vast relief, his name had not been mentioned again. True, Anne-Marie Caughlan, one of the Kate’s acquaintances, had whispered to Kate that she had seen Jenny and the young man walking along the street together on several occasions. However, closer examination of the scrap of gossip revealed only that the two had occasionally walked together to and from work.

  When Kate discovered this, her feeling was one of relief as she thought: Well, as long as that’s all they’re doing, I’ve no call for worry. After all, nothing much can happen in those circumstances, especially right in the middle of busy city streets and in full view of such nosey parkers as Anne-Marie Caughlan and her meddling cronies.’

  What further reassured Kate was that apart from never once mentioning Ross’s name, at least in her mother’s hearing, Jenny had taken to going out with a girl friend from the mill every Saturday night. For the past month, every Saturday night, Lizzie Fergus turned up faithfully at Kate’s door to meet Jenny. Then together, the pair of them would s
et off happily for the weekly soiree run by one of the churches. True, Lizzie herself was a bit more loud-mouthed and common than Kate would have chosen as a bosom friend for her daughter to go around with.

  Even so, just once or twice of late, Kate had begun to wonder, when late each Saturday night the girl came back from the soiree with stars in her eyes, a lilt in her voice, and a spring in her step.

  Meeting him on the quiet? Kate thought. Perhaps that loud-mouthed Lizzie is really just a front, a cover-up? Oh, no. I can’t believe that of Jenny. She may have her faults–who doesn’t – but I can’t accept that she would ever be so devious. Not Jenny.

  Thus reassured, for the moment at least, Kate accepted the situation at face value, and plodded along reasonably happily each day, all the while working on her long-held tenet, the blissful assumption that no news is good news.

  Matters continued fairly smoothly until one morning when, unusually for her, Jenny had difficulty in rising for work in her usual bright and breezy manner. After much cajoling, prompting, and finally an ultimatum from her mother, she eventually did surface. With her pale face and red-rimmed eyes, she was indeed a sorry sight across the breakfast table. As if that alone were not enough, so unlike her usual cheery manner, not only did she seem disinclined for idle chatter, but also she was as irritable as a cage of bears with outsized headaches.

  Finally, when Kate could stand her rudeness not a minute longer, she fixed her daughter with a steady gaze and said: “All right, let’s have it. What in God’s name is wrong with your torn face this morning? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  Asked a direct question in this way, it was impossible for the sullen young woman to ignore it. However, she did the next best thing, by averting her gaze from her mother, and then staring down into her bowl of porridge.

  “What’s wrong did you say, Mammy? Nothing, at least nothing more than usual. You know I hate that damned mill, always have, and always will. But for your sake, I do try to make the best of it. After all, I know it wasn’t your fault that you had to break the promise to me about staying on at school and going for Teacher Training.”