I felt so sorry for her as she headed sadly out the door. I now realised how deeply she cared for him while getting precious little thanks for all her trouble.
I was also puzzled about her remarks. ‘Granny, has Rosie seen Dad like she says? Every time I go to the Hilltown, he’s never there. Even Rita and Nellie never see him.’
I thought about our old neighbours – two women who also had enough on their plates. They had enough problems with money and the never-ending struggle to make ends meet without the added worry of looking out for Dad – especially when he had rejected all their offers of help.
Granny looked evasive. ‘Well, I think she goes to the Hilltown quite a lot with the Salvation Army – especially at night – and she sees him with his cronies.’
It was an inadequate answer but I let it drop. I had quite a bit of housework to finish before my exciting adventure into the town at midnight.
Danny was working until ten o’clock with his deliveries and then he had to pick Maddie up at the Perth Road. Mrs Pringle wasn’t happy about letting her out so late but Maddie had a way of getting round her parents in a manner that was an eye-opener to me.
‘She could charm the devil himself,’ was one of Hattie’s favourite sayings but the fact that Danny was acting as her chaperone had clinched the deal.
I was waiting on the pavement when they appeared and by eleven thirty we were finally in place at the far end of the High Street, almost in front of the Town House or the Pillars as it was better known as.
The crowd was growing by the minute, milling around the many barrows that were dotted about the street. These barrows were piled high with fancy hats, loud hooters and the favourite first-foot present – the dressed herrings. These were gaudily wrapped in bright, multicoloured crêpe paper frills. The vendors were doing a brisk trade as good-natured customers jostled forward with their purchases into the seething mass. The air hummed with hundreds of voices. The conversations mingled with shrieks of laughter and the high-pitched sounds from the hooters and whistles. Also, from the far edge of the crowd, the sound of noisy singing erupted.
Rain had fallen earlier but it was now dry although still very cold. Maddie had a fashionable fur hat perched on top of her curls – a hat that made my old woollen headsquare look really frumpish and I was grateful for the darkness. It at least hid my tatty old clothes and put me on the same level as Maddie. This was merely superficial because I knew her clothes were as fashionable as the hat and should some spotlight appear in the darkness, well, I would be shown up for my frumpy look.
Danny was also taken by her pretty headgear. ‘Better hold tight to your hat, Maddie, or somebody might pinch it.’
A group of young women who looked like millworkers stood beside us. They had thick shawls around their shoulders and were lamenting about the threatened demise of the Town House, a demise that had now firmly begun with a partially demolished steeple lying as silent witness to the town planners’ dastardly scheme.
This was a source of much chagrin amongst the population at large and the Overgate residents in particular. ‘They’ve got a bloody cheek knocking the Town House down,’ said one of the women while her companions nodded vigorously in agreement.
‘When they knock it down what will happen to the shops? Where will the tramcar drivers go to shelter from the rain? It’s a grand place to huddle when it’s raining,’ said one of the women who had prominent teeth that were chattering in the cold.
We all felt the same about these shops that lay in a row under the arches or pillars. It was a sheltered spot for lots of people in wet weather. This fine William Adams building was now being demolished and the Dundee populace were not happy about it.
‘We better watch our heads,’ said Miss Prominent Teeth. ‘Stones have been falling and almost hitting folk.’ She laughed. ‘Mind you, with the state of some of these folk tonight who are the worse of drink, a stone falling on their heads will not be felt – at least not till the morn.’
Then suddenly the crowd went quiet, the conversations dying along with the singing. The excited buzz dropped away to a low mutter as the bells started to ring. Their sonorous pealing pierced the cold night air and heralded in the New Year.
‘Happy nineteen thirty-two,’ said Danny, giving us both a quick kiss.
Meanwhile, the women beside us shrieked with mock surprise as a group of young men threw their arms around them and started an impromptu dance. With the crowd now surging around, they were soon whisked away into the darkness, still laughing.
‘A happy New Year, Danny,’ we said, almost in unison while Maddie kissed him on the cheek.
We tried to escape from this mass of celebrating humanity. Maddie, with one hand on her hat and another around my waist, and I stayed close to Danny who was leading the way and trying to weave through the crowd.
We were at the bottom of the Overgate when I spotted Dad. He was with a group of men but a woman was hugging him. Perhaps some over-eager reveller, I thought, trying to squeeze my way towards him.
‘Danny, it’s Dad,’ I shouted, trying to raise my voice above the deafening din. ‘I’m going over to see him.’
I was almost there – just a few yards away. I could see Dad’s face clearly when suddenly Jamie appeared in front of me. He was one of Dad’s younger pals and he barred my way, grabbing me and planting a wet kiss on my lips. I smelt the beer aroma from his breath and his grip tightened around my waist.
I tried to struggle free. ‘I’ve got to see Dad, Jamie.’
His response was another wet kiss. ‘Oh, you don’t need your dad when you’ve got me.’ His words were slurred. ‘You know I’ve always fancied you?’
This was news to me and I was aghast. Fear and panic gripped me as I tried to twist away from his ever-tightening embrace. I realised the crowd was so thick that escape was almost impossible and, to make matters worse, Dad had disappeared without ever seeing me.
I thought I would faint in the crowd but suddenly and without warning a strong hand grabbed my coat collar and I was plucked backwards. I almost cried with relief when I saw Danny and Maddie, who had a very worried look on her face.
‘You gave us a fright, Ann’, said Danny. ‘Luckily Maddie saw your headsquare.’
Good old tatty scarf, I thought, mentally apologising to it for calling it frumpish.
Jamie grabbed me again but Danny stepped in beside me and gripped him by the hand. ‘A happy New Year, Jamie,’ he said brightly, as the youth glared at him. ‘Sorry to butt in but Ann has to be home by now.’
Jamie gave another glowering glance at me then to my relief, he nodded. ‘Aye, I’ll see you around sometime maybe.’ His words were more slurred now and I realised he wanted to be home himself or maybe he wanted to be sick. Either way, he pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared into the throng.
I got a lecture from both Danny and Maddie as we made our way along the Overgate. I trudged along, all excitement now gone, and I was deeply disappointed at missing Dad. It would have been lovely bringing in another year with him – just like when Mum was alive.
By the time we reached the house, it was full of neighbours celebrating. As well as Rosie and Alice, all the people from the close had squeezed into the tiny kitchen. I also saw Mrs Watts who lived in the next close. Granny always liked to include her in any gathering and, although there were few occasions for celebrations in this poverty-stricken life, they were all having a good gossip. Mrs Watts was a young-looking widow who had lost her husband at the end of the war. In 1918 she had been just nineteen and looking forward to a married life but there were hundreds, if not thousands, of women like her who had lost loved ones in the carnage.
Then we noticed Bella, sitting on the best chair with a tiny glass of whisky in one hand and a small piece of shortbread in the other. When she spotted Maddie who was a new face to her, she latched on to her like a leech.
‘Come over here, lass, and sit beside me and tell me who you are.’ She patted a vacant wooden stool.<
br />
As Maddie dutifully went over, Danny whispered behind her retreating back, ‘We’ll rescue you in three hours.’
I looked over to where Granny was presiding over her guests. Although money was in short supply, my grandparents liked to be hospitable at Hogmanay. In order to do this Granny joined her New Year club with the small licensed grocer across the street. By paying a small amount every week she was able to buy a half bottle of whisky, a bottle of ginger cordial, a box of shortbread and a small sultana cake. Some people liked black bun at this time of year but Granny’s budget didn’t stretch to that.
The noisy chatter had kept Lily awake and she was sitting up in her pram. Grandad was doing his party trick with the spoons. Rattling them together against his arms and legs in a syncopating, metallic beat which, to everyone’s delight, was mimicked by the baby as she shook her rattle every now and then.
Maddie seemed fascinated by this co-ordinated, dexterous display with the spoons but Bella was annoyed by this because Maddie’s gaze had wandered right in the middle of the tale of Bella’s ingrown toenail. Not to be outdone, she raised her voice over all the distractions. ‘Now, as I was saying, this nail gives me gyp, I can tell you, and there’s no medicine strong enough to help the pain.’ She fished a small bottle out from the pocket of her voluminous apron and almost shoved it under Maddie’s nose. ‘Even this stuff doesn’t help and I get this from the chemist’s shop. She gazed at the bottle as if deciding. ‘Still, maybe I’ll just have a wee drop.’ She sounded like a martyr.
Maddie jumped up. ‘I’ll go and get a glass for your medicine,’ she volunteered, only to be forestalled by Bella’s big hand.
‘No, no, lass, just sit down.’ She yanked the cork from the dark brown ribbed bottle and raised it to her lips. ‘I’ll just have a swig of this. I’ve been taking this medicine for so long now that my swigs are more accurate than any chemist’s measure.’
She then replaced the cork firmly back in the bottle and replaced it in her pocket before picking up her tiny glass and downing the contents in one go. ‘That’s better,’ she said, wiping her lips in satisfaction.
She then called over to Danny. ‘Where’s your mother, son? Are we no’ good enough for her at Hogmanay?’
‘Mum’s had to work tonight,’ he said but she wasn’t satisfied with a short answer and wanted the entire version and nothing but that.
Maddie interrupted. ‘Hattie is working in our house tonight – or I should say this morning? My parents are entertaining a few of my father’s colleagues to dinner.’
Bella gave her a puzzled look. ‘Dinner? Surely your dinner was over long ago. We have our dinner in the middle of the day.’ She took another swig of her medicine which obviously cleared her head and engaged her brain. ‘Oh, I forgot – you toffs have your dinner when we’re eating our supper.’ The perplexed frown vanished from her face and she looked pleased at solving this problem.
Maddie’s face began to twitch and we thought she would erupt in a gale force of laughter but she managed to keep a straight face and she gave Bella a serious look. ‘Yes, that’s right, Bella.’
Meanwhile, to my dismay and Rosie’s apparent anguish, Dad failed to appear.
Another absence hadn’t escaped Bella’s eagle eye. ‘Where’s Johnny, Nan? Is he not coming as well? Heavens, what a family! You would think he would want to wish us a happy New Year – especially folk like me that doesn’t keep well and will maybe not be here next year.’
She stopped suddenly, warned by the annoyed look from Granny. She looked embarrassed when she remembered my mother who had been hale and hearty this time last year. She lowered her head and muttered, ‘Sorry about that but I just thought he might want to wish his kids a happy New Year – especially Ann. He could have wished her well in her new job at least.’ She then fell silent.
I thought the same thing myself but maybe I would see him before I left for Broughty Ferry on the second of January.
By now Grandad had finished his performance on the spoons. Then, in the brief interval that usually followed these impromptu recitals, Mary Watts, a normally timid little woman but now fortified with a dram of whisky, began to sing. Her rich alto voice soared majestically in the small kitchen and we were all spellbound. Lily even stopped waving her rattle.
When the song was over, Granny clapped her hands enthusiastically. ‘Oh that was great Mary. I’ve aye liked “The Sunshine of your Smile” – it’s a grand song.’
Alice echoed this statement and added, ‘You’re good enough to be on the stage. You’re far better than a lot of singers I’ve heard.’
Mary blushed but looked pleased. ‘It’s funny you should say that but, when I left school, my mother was going to get my voice trained but it was the old story of a lack of money. Then I met my man, Willie. Well to cut a long story short, we got married during the war but then he was killed in action. Now of course there’s not enough money to live on, let alone have a voice trained.’ She gazed down at her hands with a wistful expression on her face, thinking maybe of what might have been.
‘Well, that’s a shame,’ said Grandad. ‘A great voice like that shouldn’t be hidden under a bushel.’
Bella, who was feeling left out now that the conversation had swung away from her health problems, said waspishly, ‘Maybe you can win a song competition or something.’
Although it was meant as a sarcastic remark, Grandad immediately pounced on it. ‘What a good idea, Bella! We’ll have to keep our eyes skinned to see if any of the halls have song competitions.’
Bella, puffed up with pride at this unexpected appreciation, tried to look modest but failed. ‘Well, as I’m tired of telling you lot, I’m not just a bonny face. I have good ideas all the time but nobody ever listens to me.’
Granny muttered under her breath, ‘We do nothing else but listen to you.’
It was time for Danny to take Maddie home and he rescued her before Bella could unearth another ache or long forgotten pain.
Then, to my surprise, he asked if I wanted to go with them. The cold wind smacked against our faces as we stepped out into the street which was still thronged with people celebrating another new year.
‘It’s a long way to Tipperary,’ sang a group of inebriated men as they tried to negotiate a narrow close entrance, their voices suddenly amplified by the vault-like walls.
‘Speaking about Tipperary,’ said Danny, looking at both of us, ‘I’m visiting my relations later on today. Would you both like to come?’
I accepted with such alacrity that I was suddenly embarrassed. I hoped I hadn’t sounded too eager. I saw Maddie’s face fall.
‘Oh, Danny, I would love to come with you both but my aunts and uncles always come to our house on New Year’s Day and I have to be there.’
Danny sounded cheerful, ‘Oh, well, maybe another time, Maddie.’
Although I was sorry she couldn’t make it, I was still elated that Danny and I would have some time together before I started work. I had another idea. ‘What about taking Lily with us? It’ll mean pushing the pram instead of taking the tramcar, though. What do you think, Danny?’
Danny thought it was an excellent idea and we strolled on to Maddie’s house. This quiet road was such a contrast to the Overgate with its throng of merry revellers and their loud rasping singing and sharp peals of laughter. It was like walking along a hushed road towards a church and most of the houses lay in slumbering darkness, their gardens deep pools of mysterious shadows.
Maddie was silent during the walk, her eyes downcast on the pavement as if measuring each paving stone. Suddenly she blurted out, ‘Oh, I wish I was coming with you to Lochee instead of a stuffy day with my relations. They’re not as funny and good-natured as your grandparents and their friends. I’ve got two aunts who look down their noses at drink but make a concession at this time of year. They sit around like two stuffed prunes, sipping a little glass of sherry as if it were poison. I do wish they were like Bella.’ She giggled loudly and made a funny face,
imitating her aunts’ expressions, and we laughed so loudly that a light sprang on in one of the darkened houses. We ran along the pavement in case the irate owner would perhaps open his window and shout at us.
Maddie was still lamenting. ‘Then one of my uncles goes to sleep after his lunch and doesn’t wake up till it’s time for tea. What boring company he is and not like Bella with her numerous complaints and medicine bottle full of whisky. Not to mention her “Dinner at dinner time unless you’re a toff”.’ She mimicked Bella to a tee.
Danny was amused. ‘So you noticed that, did you, Maddie? It’s supposed to be our family secret – our skeleton in the cupboard.’
‘Actually I didn’t notice right away,’ Maddie admitted, ‘but, after a few drinks from her bottle and after finishing her glass, she got tired of waiting for a refill. She gave me this huge wink and poured some of her so-called medicine into her glass and it looked like whisky.’
‘Aye, we just love it when she looks so innocent and tells us what a blessing her medicine is,’ I said.
Maddie gave another huge sigh. ‘It’s all right for Joy – she’ll sleep through most of the long boring day – but I’ll have to play the piano and sing something totally cheerless. Still maybe I’ll sing the Horsey song.’ This thought seemed to cheer her up.
When we reached her house, a light still glowed in a downstairs window. I remembered Hattie. ‘Is your mum coming back with us, Danny?’
‘No, her plan was to go home straight after the meal was served. Isn’t that right, Maddie?’
Maddie nodded. ‘Yes. As Bella would say, us toffs are a dull lot with our boring parties that end early.’ She turned to face us. ‘Come in for a moment and see Dad.’
I was dying to get home to my bed as I had had a really busy day with the housework and a heavy stint at the local wash-house but it seemed churlish to refuse.
We stepped once again into the lovely pink-toned room, now made even softer with a solitary lamp burning. This cast a golden glow, making the room seem mysterious with its shadowed corners. The red embers from a dying fire echoed the warm look.
The Sunday Girls Page 9
