I had heard enough and I wasn’t going to let her run him down. ‘Of course you know the reason for that, Hattie, don’t you?’
She looked at me as if I had lost my senses.
I continued, ‘If you hadn’t made him promise not to tell the Pringle family or Maddie, then this whole sorry story would be over and done with. At the time, I advised him to tell them the truth because I don’t think they would have given a toss about what happened so long ago. But, no, you made him promise to keep quiet and it’s breaking him up. You’re to blame, Hattie, not Danny.’
She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Meanwhile Granny remained silent.
After a moment or two, she made a sound, her words strangled with fury. ‘My fault? My fault, indeed. It wasn’t my fault but the fault of that awful Mick Malloy and his band of merry boozers. It was his fault.’
‘Aye, in the beginning, Hattie, but not now. If you hadn’t been so keen to keep up appearances it would have been over a long time ago. In fact, I just wish that I’d told them the truth – Maddie and her parents. If I hadn’t promised Danny not to, then I would have.’
Hattie struggled into her coat.
Granny called after her, ‘Now mind what I told you – don’t mention what you found.’ She turned to me. ‘I sometimes think I’m talking to myself with that lassie – she’s so pigheaded.’
‘I could honestly kick Danny,’ I said. ‘It’s been over a year since they split up and Hattie’s yapping on about Maddie returning the ring. What does she think she should do? Pine away with unrequited love, for heaven’s sake?’
I told Granny about Colin. ‘Maddie wants to be fair to Danny. She doesn’t want to go out with another man if she still has her ex-fiancé’s ring, does she?’
Granny shook her head. Her eyes were sad. ‘There’s times when I wish that Dad Ryan was still alive then this wouldn’t be out in the air. What a tragedy.’
‘Aye, it is, Granny, but it’s also a lesson to us all to tell the truth and not have any skeletons in our cupboards.’
She chuckled. ‘Och, I don’t know about that. I think most families have them – rich or poor, it doesn’t matter.’
I looked at her. ‘Have we got any in our cupboard?’
‘No, I don’t think so but I bet the auld Queen Mary is kicking herself for her ignorance of the Wallis Simpson woman. That’s a real scandal in the royal cupboards.’
‘Well, we now have a new King and it’ll soon be his coronation. I wonder if the ex-King will marry Mrs Simpson?’
‘Well, he’d better because he gave up his throne for her,’ she said caustically.
Would Greg give up his job in Glasgow to marry me? I wondered. That was a thought.
After I left the Overgate, I toyed with the idea of going to see Danny but decided against it. He wouldn’t mention the returned ring – I was sure of that. He had hidden it away as if the very sight of it distressed him and now Hattie had unearthed it. Would she keep quiet about it or make a fuss? Anything was possible with her in this mood.
Then, to make matters worse, Greg’s letter arrived and it contained disturbing news.
He wrote, ‘Danny has asked me to find out some details of accommodation here. He is hoping to get a transfer to Glasgow soon. What on earth is going on?’
What could I tell him? I didn’t want to lie to him as well, as I felt my entire life was now one large untruth. Also he knew the story about Maddie and Danny and he knew they wouldn’t split up over something trivial.
I wrote back with the truth – or, at least, most of it. I told him the engagement was over and I didn’t elaborate. Instead I filled the letter with newsy items which I knew wouldn’t fool him but I did say that he could ask Danny why he was leaving if his transfer came through. Then it would be up to him to explain.
I’d planned to see Danny that night but Lily came home from school with some sad news. ‘It was twins again and Janie’s mummy had the babies but they weren’t breathing,’ she said with tears in her eyes.
I was upset to learn that this pregnancy had been another set of twins and, instead of meeting Danny, I decided to visit Mrs Baxter to give her my sympathy. It was dark when I set off for Dallfield Walk and the close wasn’t lit when I got there. The door was opened by her husband. Inside, the room was cosy and Mrs Baxter was propped up in the bed in the corner of the room.
She looked white and ill but she perked up a bit when she saw me. ‘Och, it’s Lily’s sister. Come away in and sit beside me.’
The smaller children were obviously all asleep because there was just Janie and an older woman by the small sink at the window.
Mrs Baxter introduced me. ‘This is my mum. She’s giving me a wee helping hand until I get stronger.’
Mr Baxter said, ‘I’ll just nip upstairs and see Mac. It’ll give you a chance for a blether.’ He disappeared through the door.
Janie began to howl which annoyed her granny. ‘Will you just bide still till I fine-comb your hair? You know the school likes your hair to be free from nits.’
Oh, the dreaded hair lice, I thought. I was forever washing Lily’s hair in Derbac shampoo while the fine bone comb was another torture as far as she was concerned – just as it was for Janie.
There was another howl as the fine-toothed comb caught on a tangle and then it was all over.
I asked Mrs Baxter how she was feeling.
‘Call me Agnes,’ she said. ‘I’m not feeling too bad but it was an awful thing to happen. The bairns weren’t premature but they didn’t stand a chance with their breathing problems.’ She had tears in her eyes and I couldn’t imagine a worse thing for a mother – to lose one child was a shame but to lose two was terrible.
Her mother called over, ‘Well, Agnes, just make sure you don’t have any more. You’ve got enough to look after and feed so send that man of yours upstairs to bide with Mac.’ Although said in a joking manner, I saw that her mother had a serious look on her face.
Agnes lay back on the thin pillows. Although everything was clean, the pillowslips looked threadbare – as did most of the furnishings. The room wasn’t any bigger than ours and I suspected that the back bedroom was even smaller. With all the cots and beds I had glimpsed that day, it didn’t leave much room for more children.
Agnes gave a wan smile. Her white skin stretched over her cheekbones. ‘Aye, I know you’re right, Mum, and I don’t know why all my pregnancies are twins. But enough is enough and I’m not having any more. I’m not going through that again.’
Her mum wiped her hands on a towel. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
I had brought some biscuits and a few oranges with me and I left them on the table when I left.
‘I hope you feel better soon, Agnes,’ I said as I opened the door.
She looked at her mother. ‘I’m really lucky to have Mum. She comes in every day and gives me a help with the bairns. She lives in the next close so she’s aye on hand.’ Agnes lay back on her pillow as if these few words had left her exhausted.
As I walked home, I sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t have any more children. I also hoped she would soon be back on her feet again. Some people had such a hard life while others seemed to sail through it – folk like Hattie who was going on and on about a returned engagement ring like it was the end of the world while Agnes had just lost her two babies.
However, as the days slowly turned to spring, Agnes recovered. I got most of my news through Lily. According to her, Janie told her everything, including her granny’s words. ‘My ma’s not having any more bairns because she’s got enough with us,’ she told Lily proudly.
Then there was the forthcoming coronation which was the main topic of conversation in the shop. Connie said, ‘You should see Bernard Street, Ann. It’s a wee street off the Hawkhill and they aye do the most wonderful display of decorations to celebrate any occasion.’
We planned to take Lily to see these decorations and, on the tenth of May, a couple of days before the royal event, we made
our way to the Hawkhill. Lily was so excited. She chattered on and on about the king and queen and I hoped she realised that it was just the flags she would see and not the actual coronation.
Bernard Street was indeed a delight with its multicoloured bunting stretched from house to house. There were flags everywhere and, although this dark-looking street appeared to get very little sun, the effect of the streams of flags and decorations gave it a colourful festive look. It seemed as if half the population of Dundee was out viewing this spectacle because the area was crammed with people. Children played on the road, where they chased each other with a great deal of noise and shouting, while the adults stood around in groups.
It got so noisy that Connie said, ‘I think we’ll just wander back to the shop. I’ve got wee Eric looking after it for a couple of hours.’
Wee Eric was one of Connie’s neighbours. A tiny man, barely five feet tall, he was the same age as Connie and they had known one another all their lives. He sat behind the counter and it was impossible to see him behind the pile of newspapers. He stood up when he heard the doorbell. ‘I’ll get away home now, Connie – now that you’re back.’ He had a thin squeaky voice which somehow matched his size. He resembled a jovial gnome, all the more so now because his back was slightly hunched.
After he’d gone, Connie remarked, ‘Poor soul – he can’t stand upright now because of his arthritis.’
I mentioned Agnes Baxter. Connie knew everyone and Agnes was no exception. ‘I feel worried about her,’ I said. ‘You know she lost her twins?’
Connie nodded sadly. ‘Aye, I know. The poor wee mites were stillborn and that’s an awful thing to happen. The poor wee things.’ She hung up her coat on the hook in the back shop. ‘But I wouldn’t worry about her, Ann. She’s got a great man and a great mother. Her man has a pony and cart and he goes around the streets collecting scrap metal and rags. You must have seen him around the streets. He gives the bairns a balloon if they bring him anything.’
I had seen him on the street but I hadn’t paid much attention to the man behind the pony.
‘Aye, she’s got a great man in him. He takes his share of the bairns and her mother does her share so Agnes will be all right.’
‘But she has all these twins in her family. She must be run down.’
Connie chuckled. ‘Aye, maybe so but she must have known this was going to be her lot when she got married. Twins run in both their families. Agnes was a twin and so was her man. There was sixteen bairns in her family and fourteen in his so big families are in their blood.’
I felt better after this chat. I hadn’t been able to get Agnes out of my mind since my visit. I had felt so sorry for her lot in life but I was now relieved to hear that her life wasn’t all struggle and doom.
My weekly letter from Greg arrived and it still had news of Danny’s hoped for transfer. He wrote, ‘Danny hopes to get this transfer and, if he does, then he’ll move here at the end of the year.’
My heart sank. If Danny went off to Glasgow, then I knew there would be no hope of him getting back with Maddie. Then I remembered the returned ring. Stop deluding yourself, I told myself mentally – the engagement was well and truly broken so it didn’t matter where he went.
I decided to go and see him that evening. Fortunately, he was at home but, when Hattie saw me, she went white. I wondered if she would ever forgive me for my outburst. Still it had to be said – whether she liked it or not.
We decided to go out and Danny put on his jacket. It had been a lovely sunny day but the wind was bitterly cold. I was well wrapped up in my navy nap coat but this cold wind seemed to penetrate the fabric. Danny looked chilled to the bone and, as we passed a small public house, he pulled me into the tiny snug bar.
I was mortified. There was the time years ago when I had confronted Dad in the Windmill bar on the Hilltown but, apart from that, I had never been in one.
I gave him a stern look but he said, ‘Don’t look at me like that. I don’t come in here to drown my sorrows but it’s too cold to be outside and we can’t speak in front of Mum because she gets so upset.’
The small bar was empty but a barman soon poked his head through the hatch which served as a counter. Danny ordered a pint of beer for himself and a lemonade for me. We sat beside a dark, deeply scarred table that had a pattern of white rings all over its ravaged surface. There was a stale beer smell and the wooden bench was uncomfortable.
‘How are you, Danny?’ I tried to sound cheerful but failed miserably.
I told him about the letter from Greg. Fully prepared to defend him if Danny was annoyed at Greg telling me.
But he didn’t and, instead, he said quietly, ‘Do you remember Minnie MacFarlane’s man? Peter got a transfer to Glasgow when they got married and she had her bairn. Well, seemingly Minnie is back living with her mother and Peter wants to come back to Dundee in the hope of a reconciliation with her and the kiddie.’
The penny dropped. ‘So you want his job if that happens?’
He nodded. ‘It’s for the best, Ann. I don’t know if Maddie told you about returning the ring?’
I didn’t know what to say so I remained silent.
This seemed to unnerve him. ‘Aye, she sent it back by a courier firm. It came to the shop.’
‘Did that hurt your feelings, Danny? I mean, getting it back like that?’
He nodded. ‘At the start it did – when the man arrived. Of course, everybody was agog with nosiness and wondering what was going on but I managed to pass it over – at least I think I did. I mean it’s not every man that wants his workmates to know he got his engagement ring back from a courier.’
‘But you feel different now?’
‘Aye, I do. The letter from Maddie explained everything – the difficulties of sending it by registered post. It would have to be signed for and Mum would want to know what was in the package. No, Maddie thought this was the most discreet way.’
‘And now you’re running away?’
He nodded. ‘Aye, I am. The funny thing is that I’ve finally come to terms with what happened to my dad and I know that I’ve been really stupid. But what’s done is done and there’s no going back.’
‘Of course you can, Danny. You were stupid at the beginning but don’t remain stupid. Go and see Maddie and tell her the whole story. Please.’ I looked at him pleadingly. ‘Please.’
‘What about Colin?’
I was exasperated. ‘Blast Colin. I mean he’s a nice enough lad but Maddie is not in love with him. I’ve said so a hundred times.’
Before he could answer, the door opened and a gust of icy cold wind swept into the tiny room. Three elderly women stood in the doorway and looked at us with astonishment. We were obviously sitting in their seats and they weren’t pleased about it. I looked around and noticed there wasn’t any room for them in this snug bar so we stood up.
At the doorway, we were involved in a brief crush as we squeezed through then the women made a dash for their bench. Just in case some other intruders took over their small drinking domain.
The wind felt colder than ever as we said goodbye outside the door. Before darting up the street, Danny said, ‘It’ll take a while for any transfer to come through so I’ll not be leaving tomorrow, Ann. It’ll take a wee while.’
I turned away from the wind and called after him, ‘I’ll see you soon then, Danny?’
His answer was swept away by a vicious gust of wind and I didn’t hear his reply. For the thousandth time since Dad Ryan’s death, I thought to myself what a mess this was. Still, I had one consolation – life for us as a family seemed to be going from strength to strength. Dad still hadn’t asked Rosie to marry him and she was depressed by this but everything else in our garden was rosy.
That was until one lovely warm sunny day in June when Dad arrived home, his face grey and gaunt. He was also distressed and a cold feeling of dread spread over me.
‘What’s wrong, Dad?’
He didn’t reply so I asked him again.
>
When he spoke, his eyes were glazed with confusion. ‘It’s just something that happened at work today.’
I was frightened to hear any more but I knew I had to. ‘Have you lost your job?’ Dad was now working full-time and what a difference it made to him and our finances.
He shook his head.
Thank goodness, I thought. ‘Well, what is it?’
He hesitated, unsure how to go on. ‘It’s … It’s …’ He stopped and took a deep breath. ‘It’s Harry the gaffer, Ann – he’s disappeared.’
‘Disappeared?’ I couldn’t understand it. Where did people disappear to?
‘Aye, he went out for a walk at dinner-time like he aye does and he never came back. There was still no sight of him tonight when we all finished work.’
‘Maybe he went home?’ I ventured.
Dad shook his head. ‘No. The boss, Mr Pringle, went to his house and his wife hasn’t seen him since this morning when he left for work.’
‘Has anybody looked for him? I mean around all the places where he normally goes?’
‘The police were out looking for him but they didn’t find a thing.’
I could see he was terribly upset and he didn’t even want his tea. Instead he said, ‘I’ve been asked by my boss if I’ll pay a visit to his wife. Will you come with me, Ann?’
I was surprised. ‘Me? Why do you want me to come with you?’
A deep frown formed between his eyes. ‘Well, I don’t know what to say to an older woman, Ann, and I thought you might be good at speaking to her.’
‘How old is she?’
‘I don’t really know but she’ll be the same age as Harry, I expect – around about seventy.’
‘He’s seventy and he’s still working?’ I was surprised.
‘Well, he’s more than a gaffer, more like a manager, and he’s been with the warehouse for years. He gets on very well with Mr Pringle, the boss.’ He stopped and the frown reappeared. ‘It’s funny you should say that but he was thinking of retiring later this year. His legs are playing him up so that’s the reason for the short walk every dinner-time.’
Towards a Dark Horizon Page 11
