Waters of the Heart

by Doris Davidson

  ‘It’s a long story,’ he warned.

  ‘I want to know, supposing it takes all night.’

  ‘To start at the beginning, I got speaking to an Aberdeen man in a pub in Edinburgh one night – oh, it must be about a year ago.’ Tommy had given a great deal of thought to this after he learned that his sister had married a man who owned both a mill and a wholesale grocery company, and had decided that she wouldn’t want to be reminded of Hugh Phimister, her old lad. There was no need to go into details. ‘When I told him I used to live in Schoolhill, he asked if I knew you.’

  ‘How could he have known me?’

  ‘From reports of . . . the trial.’

  Her face blanched ‘Oh! You know about that?’

  ‘Not till he told me, but I wish I’d been there at the time. I could have helped you through it.’

  She looked at him miserably. ‘It was awful, and knowing folk would be speaking about me made it worse. That’s why I’d to get away, and Phoebe came to Dundee with me.’

  ‘So Marie said.’ He described his long, patient combing of every mill he could find. ‘Nobody had ever heard of a Cissie McGregor. I’d only a few days at a time to look, for I’d always to go back to my ship for another trip, and I nearly gave up hope of ever finding you. But I made up my mind to keep at it, and I started going round them again, waiting at the gates for the workers to come out, and asking them if any of them knew you. As usual, I was getting nowhere last night when one old body said, ‘I kent a Cissie Robertson once. She bade wi’ me for a while.’

  ‘Jen Millar!’ Cissie exclaimed.

  ‘I don’t know her name, but I damn near kissed her. I’d forgotten your name would be Robertson. She told me you and Phoebe had moved to South Union Street, and you’d both got jobs in the office, then she’d lost touch with you.’

  ‘I feel awful about that, I’ll have to go and see her some time. But you still haven’t said who told you where I was.’

  ‘Hold your horses,’ Tommy laughed, ‘I’m nearly there. The office staff had all gone home, so I went back this morning and the manager said you’d married the boss’s son, but he didn’t know your address. I said I was desperate to find you, so he phoned your man’s mill and got it. I didn’t know if you’d be in during the day, so I waited till I thought you’d have had your supper.’

  ‘We call it dinner in this house,’ she smiled.

  ‘Aye, I suppose you would. Anyway, that’s it. My, Cissie, you look well. I needn’t have worried about you, this place is like a blooming palace.’

  ‘It’s far too big, but it’s what Bertram wanted. He’s in Glasgow tonight, but you can meet him tomorrow. He should be home in the early evening.’

  ‘We sail from Leith the morrow afternoon.’

  ‘You can sleep here tonight. There’s enough spare rooms to take the whole crew of your ship.’ She leaned back in her seat and gave a sigh. ‘Oh, Tommy, it’s good to see you. Tell me about Marie and Pat. How are they?’

  Knowing that he had plenty of time to hear about Cissie’s tragedy, Tommy told her about Marie’s children, about Pat’s job in the fish-house, and they were telling each other what they had been doing since they left Aberdeen, when Elma came in. ‘Will I make your cocoa now, Mrs Dickson?’

  ‘Yes, Elma, and make enough for two.’ She turned to her brother in dismay. ‘I never asked if you’d had anything to eat. You could have had . . .’

  ‘I got something in a pieshop.’

  The maid withdrew, her face breaking into a broad smirk as she went down to the kitchen, and it was only a few minutes before she returned with the tray. ‘Will that be all?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Elma, you can lock up now. Mr McGregor will be staying the night in the room across the passage from mine, so you had better put a hot water bottle in the bed to take off the chill.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Dickson.’ Her face impassive, the girl went out, but her eyebrows shot up and her mouth pursed as she crossed the hall to lock the front door.

  Tommy looked seriously at his sister. ‘I think it’s time you told me what happened that night, Cissie.’

  She began long before the actual night, leaving nothing out and hushing him when he roared out in condemnation of their father for raping her. When she explained why she had gone upstairs on the evening Big Tam had got the telegram about Joe, she gulped, ‘I only went to please Phoebe.’

  His face grim, her brother listened while the rest of the tale unfolded, step by horrible step to the final, tragic denouement, by which time tears were flowing down Cissie’s face and he was swallowing hard to keep his own tears back.

  ‘Christ!’ he groaned, when she came to a shuddering halt, ‘I don’t know how you came through that, Cissie.’

  ‘Neither do I, now.’

  Tommy looked at her compassionately until the long silence was broken by the musical chimes of the Westminster clock on the mantelpiece, the first ding-dong making Cissie look up. ‘Oh, it’s midnight! I’d no idea it was that late.’

  ‘Aye, it’s time we got some sleep. I’m glad I know the truth, Cissie, but if I ever meet up with that bugger when he comes out, I’ll not be responsible for my actions.’

  As they went upstairs, she whispered, ‘His time’s half in already, and I’m scared he’ll come after me when he’s out.’

  ‘He’ll never find you supposing he does,’ he assured her. ‘Look how long it took me, and he hasn’t half my brains.’

  She had a faint smile on her face as they went into their separate rooms.

  Tommy held Ricky on his knee while they had breakfast, the boy gabbling to him even when his little mouth was full of scrambled egg. ‘He’s a bright one this,’ he laughed.

  Cissie beamed proudly, then said, sharply, ‘Ricky, be careful. You nearly spilled your milk over Uncle Tommy.’

  ‘Ommy,’ her son said, looking pleased with himself.

  ‘That’s the first thing he’s said that I’ve recognised,’ Cissie exclaimed. ‘He won’t even try to say Dada or Mama, no matter how often I say it to him.’

  Tommy grinned. ‘It was likely a fluke. Say it again, son. Tommy?’

  ‘Ommy,’ Ricky obliged in his shrill voice, his violet eyes dancing with what seemed almost like devilment.

  ‘You’d think he was just doing it to spite me,’ Cissie said, ruefully. ‘Say Mama now, Ricky, for me? Mama?’

  ‘Ommy!’ It was so decisive that the two adults couldn’t help laughing.

  Having been unable to persuade her brother to stay any longer, Cissie saw him out just after ten. ‘I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet Bertram, but you’ll come back?’

  ‘Try keeping me away now I’ve found you again. I’ll make for Dundee every time the ship docks, for I want to see my nephew growing up.’

  He took her in his arms. ‘I’m glad you’ve got a decent man, Cissie. You deserve the very best after what you’ve been through.’

  ‘Bertram is the very best,’ she assured him, and as she watched him striding away, she was glad she had not told him about the long succession of nights when Bertram had been the worst husband any woman could have had.

  When she returned to the sitting room, Ricky was standing in his playpen with his arms held out to her. ‘No,’ she told him firmly, ‘you’ll have to stay there. Mama has to sit down and think what we’re going to have for dinner tonight.’

  ‘Mama.’

  Her heart filling with joy, she ran to lift him up, and the triumph on his face made her shake her head. ‘You’re a wee monkey. You knew how to get round me, didn’t you, but that’s it. One cuddle, that’s all.’

  ‘Mama,’ he said, hopefully, when she bent to put him back in the playpen, but when she didn’t give in he settled down quite happily to play with his toys.

  That afternoon, she had much to tell Dorothy Barclay, who was delighted that her friend was reunited with her brother, and amazed at Tommy’s persistence in his search. Then Cissie told her why Tommy had left Aberdeen in the first place, but did n
ot mention her own reason for leaving, and Dorothy – only waiting for her friend’s story to end before imparting her own good news – did not notice the omission.

  ‘And this morning,’ Cissie went on, ‘I said something to Ricky about Uncle Tommy, and he actually said “Ommy”.’

  Dorothy smiled. ‘Now he’s begun, he’ll likely . . .’

  ‘Yes, he said “Mama” just after Tommy went away.’

  ‘Well, there you are. Um – Cissie, you’ll never believe this, but after all the years we waited for Fenella, I’m going to have another one.’

  ‘Oh, Dorothy, I’m pleased for you! There won’t be long between them and they’ll be company for each other.’

  Bertram decided to go home for a bath before he went to the warehouse. He had been up half the night drinking, and it was almost noon before he surfaced with such a thumping head that he’d just had a wash and shave, and driving home had made him feel sweaty, so a change of clothes wouldn’t go amiss, either. Knowing that Cissie would be out, he went straight upstairs to the bathroom to turn on the taps, and he had just taken off his collar and tie in the bedroom when Elma walked in. ‘Don’t you ever knock?’ he asked, in some irritation. ‘I might have been naked.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you naked,’ she simpered. ‘But I came to tell you something, Bertram.’

  He was alarmed. ‘Nothing’s wrong with Ricky, I hope?’

  ‘No, his mother’s got him out in the pram. It’s just – I thought you’d like to know . . . a Mr McGregor turned up just after dinner last night, and Mrs Dickson ran and kissed him. Then, later on, she told me he was staying the night. He didn’t leave until ten this morning.’

  Bertram’s face blanched, then turned magenta. ‘What?’ he bellowed. ‘Are you telling me my wife slept with another man? The bitch! The goddam bitch! The minute my back’s turned! And her always pretending butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.’

  ‘Bertram . . .’

  Her interruption went unheeded as he began to pace the floor in his temper. ‘No wonder she didn’t want anything to do with me! She’s had a bloody lover lined up, waiting for the first opportunity to get him into her bed!’

  ‘Bertram, listen . . .’

  ‘They’ve likely been carrying on for months, taking a room in some whorehouse for the afternoon – Christ! What a bloody fine wife she’s turned out to be . . . Who is he? If I get my hands on him, I’ll . . .’

  Worried at the purple mottling on his face, Elma shouted, ‘Calm down, Bertram. You’ll give yourself a heart attack. I wouldn’t have told you if I’d known you’d take it like this, but you’re always saying you can’t think how to get rid of her, and now’s your chance. You flew off the handle before I got time to tell you they didn’t sleep together, but I could say they did.’

  His chest still heaving, he eyed her uncertainly. ‘They didn’t sleep together. Are you sure?

  ‘He used one of the guest rooms.’

  His unhealthy colour was receding. ‘You’d be prepared to swear they used the same bed? But it would be your word against hers.’

  ‘I changed the sheets and hid them so you can take them to the laundry, and nobody would be any the wiser. And Cook knows he was here for breakfast, and she believed me when I said they’d spent the night together.’

  Looking at her admiringly, Bertram said, ‘There’s more in that head of yours than I thought.’ He pulled his shirt off over his head, then smiled wickedly as he opened the top button of his trousers. ‘Would you like to scrub my back?’

  ‘Ooh, Bertram, what a man you are,’ she giggled.

  ‘Why don’t we have a bath together? Tildy’s not likely to come up, is she?’

  ‘No, she’s in the scullery cleaning the silver.’ The eager light suddenly went out of her scheming eyes, and she said, regretfully, ‘Mrs Gow would wonder why I was so long.’

  ‘True, and I don’t want anyone suspecting there’s anything between us. Not yet. Not until after I throw my wife out, and that won’t be easy. She’ll likely kick up a fuss when I won’t let her take Ricky.’

  ‘Oh, Bertram!’ Despite her dislike of her mistress, Elma couldn’t stomach this. ‘You’re not keeping him from her, are you? That’s cruel! And he needs his mother.’

  ‘Come here, Elma.’ He held out his arms, sure that a few sweet nothings would change her mind, and when she pressed against him, he murmured, ‘I thought you’d be pleased to take her place, and he’s only a year old. He’ll soon forget her. Oh, Elma, my darling, think about it. A father needs his son.’ He kissed her then, long, probing kisses that had her shivering with ecstasy.

  He was running his hand down her back when she whispered, ‘I’ll look after him, I love him as much as you, anyway.’

  Thankful that she had lost her scruples, he kissed her again and then said, as if he were sorry about it, ‘You’d better go downstairs before I take you to bed.’

  ‘We’ll have plenty time for that,’ she smiled, as she went out, walking as if she thought herself cock of the walk.

  Dropping his trousers, Bertram gave a sneering grin. She had no idea that he was using her for his own ends. Once he got Cissie out of the way and things had settled down, he didn’t intend to dally any more with Elma. She’d be Ricky’s nurse or nanny, but not Bertram Dickson’s mistress.

  As he stepped into the bath, he gave a harsh laugh at the prospect of seeing Cissie’s face when he barred her from the house. She had served her purpose by giving him the son who would fall heir to half the Dickson cash within a few years, and his father couldn’t put any blame on him this time, because it was Cissie who had been unfaithful. He could still hardly credit what she had done, but she had played right into his hands. She would be home in another hour or so, little knowing what was in store for her, and he could hardly wait.

  Cissie was humming softly as she walked up the drive, and smiled when Bertram came out to meet her. ‘I’d have come back before this if I’d known you’d be home so early.’

  There was no answering smile. ‘It seems I did not come home early enough.’

  His cold voice took her aback. ‘What do you mean? Has something gone wrong at the mill? Or the warehouse?’

  He wrenched the pram out of her hands. ‘I’ll take the baby inside and you can go wherever you like.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why are you behaving like this?’

  ‘You don’t understand? Don’t you think it is I who should be saying that? I go away for one night, and come home to find that my wife has had her lover in my house.’

  ‘My lover?’ It was a moment before the truth occurred to her. ‘If you mean Tommy, he’s my brother.’

  ‘From what I have been told, no brother and sister would act the way you two did.’

  Knowing that only one person could have told him anything, Cissie burst out, ‘What’s Elma been saying?’

  ‘Can you deny that you threw your arms round him as soon as he came in, and that you kissed each other repeatedly?’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? We hadn’t seen each other for years. Let me past, Bertram, we can’t discuss this here.’

  Blocking her way, he hissed, ‘You will not set foot inside my house again. You cannot deny it, can you?’

  ‘Of course I can’t deny it. I did throw my arms round him, and we did kiss each other, but just like brother and sister, not like lovers.’

  ‘That’s not the way I heard it, and what is more, you even slept together.’

  Cissie’s legs were shaking now, but she did her best to keep calm. ‘If Elma told you that, she’s lying. She knew Tommy was going to sleep in the room across the passage from ours, she’d to put a hot water bottle in the bed, and the sheets would have been sent to the laundry. Ask her.’

  ‘She has already told me that only one bed was slept in, and she has no reason to lie.’ Wresting the pram from her, he wheeled it inside and slammed the door in her face.

  Cissie leaned weakly against the wall. This c
ouldn’t be happening! He couldn’t take her child away from her in retaliation for something she hadn’t done! Anger suddenly replaced the self-pity. She wouldn’t let her son go without a fight. Lifting the heavy brass knocker, she banged on the door. ‘Bertram, let me speak to Elma!’

  She kept pounding on the door, and at last the sitting room window was edged fractionally open by the new maid, who peered at her nervously then whispered, ‘The master says I’ve not to let you in, Mrs Dickson.’

  Tildy, just left school, was obviously terrified, but Cissie was past caring about anything except getting in to take her son. ‘Open the door for me at once! I must get some clothes. He can’t expect me to go with nothing but what I’m wearing.’

  The white face disappeared but was back in a moment. ‘The master says you should have thought of that before you . . .’ She hesitated then repeated the words Bertram had flung at her, her face scarlet with embarrassment, ‘. . . before you started whoring in his house.’

  A barked order from behind her made her close the window hastily, and Cissie was left standing, her small spark of rebellion fizzling out. What was she to do? Why had Elma told those lies? She knew that Tommy was her brother – but maybe she didn’t! Cissie’s heart sank as she recalled what she had told the maid about Tommy staying the night. She hadn’t said ‘my brother’, she had said ‘Mr McGregor’, and Elma wouldn’t have known that McGregor had been her maiden name. She hadn’t connected them as brother and sister, but she had told a deliberate lie about the way they kissed, and worse, about them sleeping together. How could Bertram have believed that?

  It was then that Cissie recalled the looks that she had seen passing between her husband and Elma at times, the kind of looks only lovers exchange. She had believed it was her imagination, had chided herself for being jealous, but she hadn’t imagined it. When had it started? When had they had the opportunity? Of course! There had been ample opportunity when she was in hospital.

  Turning round, Cissie kicked the door several times. ‘Let me in, Bertram! I know you’ve been carrying on with Elma!’

  He banged the window open. ‘No one’s going to believe a word you say after I tell them what you did.’