Some sixth sense made her jump out of his way before he lunged at her, and while he was still trying to regain his balance against the table, she made her escape. She was glad that her sister was asleep, for Marie would have seen that something was wrong. Her stomach heaved as she undressed, and even hearing her father coughing for most of the night didn’t make her any less angry at him. It was revolting to remember that his need for women made him take them off the streets, but it was a thousand times worse to think he was so desperate he would look to his own daughter.
Chapter Seven
Too ashamed to tell anyone, not even Aggie Robertson, what her father had said and done, Cissie made sure that she was never alone with him again, and, to safeguard Marie – whose large breasts seemed to be a source of pride to her and who didn’t fully understand the danger she was in – she met Joe on the landing one night and asked him if he would mind not going out on Saturday evenings.
His mouth rose at one corner in the infuriating way it always did when he was puzzled. ‘Why me? Marie’s old enough now to see Pat goes to bed.’
‘Eh, well,’ Cissie hedged. ‘He’s still growing, and he needs all the sleep he can get, and Marie forgets the time once she gets her nose in a tuppenny horrible.’
This only half-satisfied him. ‘But I can surely go out if Da’s there with her, can’t I?’
Cissie felt like screaming that this was exactly what she was trying to prevent, but she managed to smile. ‘You know what he’s like. He’ll suddenly get tired of being in the house, and he’ll just go out.’
Joe laughed. ‘Aye, that’s right, so he will.’
‘Well, do you promise?’
‘I promise.’ He gave her an affectionate poke in the ribs as they went inside. ‘You’re a real old wife these days, do you know that? It’s time you got married.’
Cissie thought sadly that she would give anything to marry Hugh Phimister if he ever asked her, but how could she leave Marie unprotected? She wouldn’t be able to marry until her sister got married, and that would be years yet. She wished that Tommy was still at home. He knew what Da was like and he’d have soon sorted him out, but she hadn’t seen Tommy since he joined the Merchant Navy. He must still be alive, though, for she’d have been notified if he wasn’t. If only Phoebe hadn’t left like she did. Da had been very fond of her, and would likely have married her if she hadn’t gone and spoiled it by trying to hurry him.
An unexpected rush of longing for her mother made Cissie swallow hard. If Mam were still here, everything would be all right. Mam would have watched out for Marie and she, Cissie, would be free to live her own life, the way she wanted. Her thoughts wavered. She was selfish to wish Mam back to all that suffering, however much she missed her, and, in any case, it couldn’t be. It might be best to tell Hugh on Saturday that they shouldn’t see each other any more, that there was no future in it for him, that she was committed to looking after her brothers and sister – especially her sister.
By Saturday night, Cissie had more or less planned out what she would say to Hugh, but as soon as she saw him, his boyish face breaking into a warm smile when he caught sight of her, his long-lashed eyes crinkling, she knew that she couldn’t hurt him. It wasn’t that she hadn’t the courage to say anything, she didn’t want to say it. She loved him and it would break her heart if she couldn’t see him again.
Taking her hand, Hugh said, ‘It’s been a long week.’
‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘I thought tonight would never come.’
‘Would you like to take a walk to the Westburn Park? It’s not too far for you, is it?’
‘It’s not all that far.’ Cissie would have agreed to walk to John O’Groats and back just to be with him.
The long walk seemed to take no time at all, because Hugh told her of all the things he had been doing since he’d seen her, but as they went into the park, he said, ‘You’re very quiet, Cissie. Is anything wrong?’
This would have been her chance to tell him, but she just smiled. ‘Nothing’s wrong, I like listening to you.’
His laugh was somewhat self-conscious. ‘I’d like to hear what you’ve been doing, and all. You must have had customers you were angry with, or had a laugh with?’
She related a few little incidents which had amused her, aware that his eyes hardly left her face the whole time. ‘I can’t remember anything else,’ she said, at last. ‘My job’s not as interesting as yours.’
They had reached the West Burn, which ran through the park and gave it its name, and Hugh said, ‘When I was little, my brothers used to let me paddle here, but I usually ended up falling in and going home soaking wet, and Ma gave them a telling off for not watching me properly.’
‘You must have been like our Pat. He’s always getting into trouble, and goodness knows how he’ll get on when he leaves school. I pity the poor man that gives him a job.’
Grinning, Hugh flopped down on the grassy bank and pulled her down beside him. ‘Might as well sit as stand.’
‘It’s lovely here.’
He looked at her for a moment, then murmured, ‘So are you lovely. Your eyes are twinkling brighter than any star.’
‘Oh, that’s the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me.’
‘It’s true. I can hardly believe my luck to be sitting with you like this.’
Her heart leapt; he did like her. ‘I’m lucky, and all.’
A light summer breeze ruffled their hair as he took her hand, but one strong gust suddenly billowed her skirt up. She was quite sure that Hugh couldn’t have seen anything he shouldn’t from where he was sitting, but she smoothed it down, looking at him in embarrassment, and without warning, his arms were round her. ‘It’s maybe too soon to be saying it, Cissie, but I wish we could be together all the time.’
Wishing that, too, she knew that it would not be possible for years. ‘Some day we might be,’ she said, gently.
‘Aye, some day, but it’ll be a long time before I could ask you to marry me. Not till after my time’s out and I’m getting a journeyman’s pay.’
It would have surprised him to know that this was balm to Cissie’s troubled spirits. By the time Hugh was earning a tradesman’s wage, Marie might not need for protection. ‘I’m willing to wait,’ she murmured, happily.
He held her away from him in astonishment. ‘Are you? I’ve loved you since that day Ma ran out of butter, but I didn’t dare to hope you . . .’
‘I’ve loved you, too, from the very first minute.’
Both of them inexperienced, their first kiss was a quick meeting of unyielding lips, but their second was much more enjoyable, and it was some time later when Hugh broke away abruptly. ‘I’ll have to stop, Cissie, I can’t trust myself any longer.’
Thankful that he could control his feelings, she was still disappointed that the kissing was over for the time being. ‘It must be late, we’d better go home.’
Standing up, they brushed the grass off their clothes and Hugh gave her one last kiss before they set off. Their walk back was silent, charged with an intense awareness which had increased almost to flash point by the time they arrived at Cissie’s door. Stopping, they looked at each other with a hungry longing, then Hugh said, hoarsely, ‘Next Saturday?’ and she was left, a bundle of raw nerve-ends.
She stood for several minutes inside the dark communal lobby until the fire inside her cooled down. When she felt calmer, she wondered if she would have let Hugh carry on in the park if he hadn’t stopped when he did. Could she have let him do to her what her father did to his women? Hugh wasn’t like Da, so it might have been all right. Oh, what was she thinking? Decent girls didn’t think things like that.
When the clock in St Nicholas Kirk started to chime, she counted the strokes fearfully, but there were only ten – it wasn’t so late. Heaving a sigh of relief, she went to the outside lavatory before going upstairs, and on her way up to the house, she met Joe coming down. ‘Is Da in?’ she asked.
‘No, he went out about eigh
t and he’s not back.’
When Cissie went into the bedroom, Marie – disappointed that nothing had happened the week before – plied her with questions. ‘Has Hugh kissed you yet? Has he said he loves you? Are you going steady now?’
‘Yes, yes, and yes,’ Cissie laughed.
‘What’s it like, being kissed?’
‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Yes I would. I’ve read about it often enough.’
‘I’d read about it myself, but, oh, Marie, it’s just wonderful! Your heart thumps till you think it’s going to jump out of your body altogether, your head goes round and round, tingly shivers go all over you . . .’
‘Sounds like you need a doctor if you get kissed.’
‘Don’t be sarcastic. I knew you wouldn’t understand.’
‘How did he tell you he loves you?’
Cissie let out a long blissful sigh. ‘He said he’d loved me since the day his mother sent him for butter.’
‘Oh, that’s real romantic,’ Marie spluttered.
‘It was the first time we met,’ Cissie explained, huffily, annoyed at her sister for making fun of such a treasured moment. ‘Go to sleep. I’m not telling you any more.’
She was still reliving the thrills of Hugh’s kisses when she heard her father coming in, and pretended to be asleep when he eased the door open to see if she was home.
‘Aye, Cissie’s in,’ she heard him say, and a female voice answered, ‘So nobody’ll interrupt us?’
Realising that he’d brought another woman home, Cissie felt her happiness ebbing away, and had to cover her ears in a few minutes to blot out the disgusting noises coming from the kitchen bed. She could definitely never let Hugh touch her if he made sounds like that – it made her flesh creep.
However much she had hated the idea that first night, Cissie had to admit that Sally’s coming made life easier. She was brassy and common, but she kept Da satisfied, and he didn’t need to look to his daughters for his pleasures. The only drawback was that she refused to take on any household duties, and Marie still had to do the cooking and cleaning. She complained every night to Cissie, who felt like saying it was their father she should be telling, but if Marie had told him, it would only have caused trouble.
‘I wonder how long this one’ll stay?’ Marie said, one day.
‘Till she gets fed up,’ Cissie said, drily, ‘or till Da gets fed up with her.’
‘It’s all right for you, you don’t have to be in the house with her all day. She lies in her bed till dinnertime, and spends nearly the whole afternoon making up her mind what to wear. Then she paints her face, and she’s sitting like a duchess by the time you come home. But you don’t care about me, you’re too busy thinking about your darling Hugh.’
Feeling guilty, Cissie said, ‘I can’t do anything about Sally, anyway.’
‘I know. I just like to grouse.’
Unluckily for Cissie’s dreams of another walk with Hugh, it was raining heavily on Saturday night, but he greeted her with his usual, heart-warming smile. ‘Ma says I’ve to take you to our house.’
There would be no chance of him kissing or doing anything else to her now, she thought, uncertain whether to be glad or sorry. He took her arm and hurried her towards his home, a tenement a little way along George Street from the dairy. The Phimisters lived on the top floor and she was out of breath by the time Hugh rushed her up.
‘Come in, Cissie,’ his mother said, kindly. ‘It’s too wet a night to be walking about.’
One of the two young men seated at the side of the fire winked at the other. ‘You don’t notice the weather when you’re in love,’ he remarked.
‘You’re just jealous, Ian.’ Hugh took her wet coat and hung it up in the tiny lobby. ‘Cissie, you’ll have gathered that that’s my brother Ian, and that’s Callum, and this,’ he slid his arms round his mother’s waist, ‘is Ma.’
Mrs Phimister laughed. ‘Never mind Ian, he’s aye teasing Hughie. Sit down there, Cissie.’ She turned to her youngest son again. ‘I know Cissie from the dairy, but I hope we get to know each other better in a wee while.’
Her arch glance made Cissie blush, and Ian gave a great roar of laughter. ‘We’ve a romance in the wind, have we?’
Callum, the eldest of the three, spoke for the first time. ‘Wait till you take a girl home yourself, Ian, and you’ll not think it’s so funny to be tormented.’
‘No girl would look at him twice,’ Hugh laughed.
‘They’re always going on at each other like bairns,’ their mother smiled, ‘but you’ll get used to them.’
Cissie returned the smile. They were a nice family, even if Hugh and his brothers did tease each other. They weren’t alike – Ian being small and very dark and Callum rather stout with a florid face – but there was something about their foreheads, their eyes, that showed how closely they were related.
‘Would you like a game of whist?’ Ian asked, suddenly. ‘Ma doesn’t like playing, for she never wins.’
‘I’ve never played whist before,’ Cissie answered, shyly.
‘We’ll show you.’ He took a pack of cards out of the table drawer. ‘You and me against Hugh and Callum.’ He shuffled, then dealt out as expertly as a professional gambler.
After a few hands, Cissie was enjoying the game. Her quick brain enabled her to remember which cards had already been played, and Ian was soon crying, ‘Well done, partner!’
By the time Mrs Phimister told them to stop because she had made some tea, Hugh and Callum were down by over a hundred points and Ian was cock-a-hoop. ‘Cissie, are you sure you haven’t played before?’
‘Beginner’s luck,’ laughed Callum.
‘No, she’s an absolute marvel,’ Ian declared.
Stretching out, Hugh laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘She is a marvel. The most marvellous girl in the world.’
She was saved further embarrassment by Mrs Phimister, who removed the deck of cards and whipped off the chenille table cover. ‘Put on the tea cloth, Ian, and, Callum, you can help me to set the table.’
It was almost ten when Hugh said that it was time he saw her home. ‘Don’t bother to come out,’ she told him. ‘It’s likely still raining and there’s no point in you getting wet again when you don’t need to.’
Twitching back the curtain to look out, Ian said, ‘It’s still bucketing down, but Hugh’ll not shrink and, any road, what’s a droppie rain when a man’s in love?’
‘I’ll easily manage myself,’ she assured Hugh, but was pleased when he insisted on accompanying her. ‘Goodnight, everybody,’ she murmured, ‘and thank you for having me, Mrs Phimister. I’ve really enjoyed myself.’
‘You’re welcome, lass, any time.’
‘They like you,’ Hugh told her as they went downstairs. ‘I knew they would, though.’
‘And I like them – all of them.’
He gave her a quick kiss before he opened the street door, but when she saw the rain bouncing off the pavement and the water rushing along the gutter, she said, ‘You can’t come out in this, Hugh. You’ll be soaked to the skin before you get home again.’
‘As Ian said, I won’t shrink,’ he laughed.
Holding hands, they ran as fast as they could, but even in the short distance they had to go, they were both dripping wet by the time they reached Schoolhill. Cissie was hoping that he would come inside the lobby with her, but he tilted her head up with his finger and gave her a long kiss there on the pavement, the rain pelting on their faces and making their eyes blink.
‘Oh, Cissie,’ he laughed, softly, ‘it’s great to be young and daft, isn’t it? But I’d better go. Next Saturday?’
Wet as she was, she stood and watched him until he turned the corner out of sight, and her heart was so filled with love that, when she went into the house, she burst into the kitchen without thinking. What she saw made her stand stock still, and she was unable to move for the sickness that rose inside her until her mouth was awash with bile. The sounds comin
g from the bed culminated in a great roar, and then the heaving mass stilled and separated.
Tam, still panting, turned round, his drink-glazed eyes leering at her from his beetroot-red face. ‘So! You like watching it, do you? Maybe you and your lad have been at it, and all? Eh? Eh, Cissie?’
Sally’s coarse giggles followed her as she turned and ran from the room, and Marie sat up with a start when she threw open the bedroom door. ‘What’s the matter with you, Cissie? Has Hugh Phimister been . . .’
‘Hugh never touched me. Let me be.’ The tears came now, and her harsh sobs made Marie understand.
‘Did you go into the kitchen and see them? It’s been bad enough listening to them, the filthy pigs.’
‘Oh, Marie, it’s . . .’
‘Come to bed, Cissie,’ Marie soothed. ‘You’re all strung up, and there’s not a thing we can do about it.’
‘That’s what makes it worse. If you heard them, Pat must have heard them, too, and he’s only twelve. What must he be thinking?’
‘He’ll be a man himself one day, and he’ll do the same.’
‘But I could never let a man do that to me, not the way they were carrying on. It was horrible! It made me want to vomit.’ Her tears easing a little, Cissie began to undress. ‘Marie, I never wanted to say anything, but watch yourself with Da. If he hasn’t got a woman here, he could easily try to do something to you.’
‘Has he tried with you?’
‘Aye, but I was too quick for him.’ Pulling her nightshift on over her head, Cissie lay down on the bed.
‘I’ve just minded!’ Marie exclaimed. ‘When he was getting better of that pulmonary thing, I was washing myself at the sink, and he said my chest was bigger than yours, and he was looking at it like he never wanted to stop.’
‘That’s what I mean, so be careful.’
Marie gave a low giggle. ‘My shift was soaking, so he must have got a right eyeful.’
‘Oh, Marie.’ Cissie shook her head, reprovingly. ‘Don’t let him see you like that again.’
Waters of the Heart Page 6
